Era echoes his sigh with one of her own, and while she has yet to relax into his touch she does move her tail to curl over his arm.
"The Scions, while kind and accepting, saw me first as an asset," she admits. It changed over time, as Ardbert is well aware, but they would never have given her a thought had she not been blessed with the Echo. "Haurchefant... To him I was always Era, his dear friend who happened to be the Warrior of Light."
And for all that Haurchefant was glad to sing her praises to everyone who knew him, he never made her feel pressured to live up to his expectations. To him, she was already more than enough just as she was.
"...At first I wondered if She took him from me on purpose, but... I think She gave me as much time with him as She could. She's always been good to me, and kept me safe even at Her own expense." Era hesitates, then whispers: "...She was the only mother who ever wanted me."
Era's opening up to him in her own way. Perhaps it's only a peek over the walls she's built around her heart, but Ardbert's grateful for it all the same. She's trying.
Ardbert listens to every word until the very end. His muscles jerk with an aborted hug, wanting to pull Era tightly to him. While his mother had died when he was young, she had at least loved him, and he had his father until he left home.
She had no one, her memories wiped clean, and those few she had were mostly neutral at best, terrible at worst. Haurchefant was the first person to care about her as a person. To lose the only person who cared like that....
Nothing he says can make that go away. Ardbert slowly and gently pulls her closer to him. He can't get both arms around her without it being uncomfortable, but gods, he just wants to hug her tight.
"She would have saved him if she could have." Ardbert whispers gently, blinking back tears. "And my parents, they—they would have loved you."
Ardbert pulls her closer to him and she allows it. While she doesn't actively lean into his touch she does go more pliant, making it easier for him to move her.
"...Nobuyuki loved his daughter," she offers, tentative and uncertain. "Born too early and abandoned by her mother, she was small and sickly, but he and his parents loved her enough to keep her alive."
Era pauses, hesitating once more.
"...I think her grandfather would have adored you. He was a large Xaelan warrior with an axe larger than yours. His name was Ganbold."
A small improvement. Enough of one that he knows his body heat will seep into her as she likes.
It's the first time she's really talked about her other self's family so unprompted, or that he's heard she was a sickly baby. He smiles through his tears. These memories are good, even if the events before and after are sad.
"An axe bigger than mine? Ganbold's an apt name. Big axe with a bigger heart?"
Well enough at masking it for someone who doesn't know her. Ardbert knows her. He gives a supportive light squeeze.
"Seven fulms? He could have held me like he held her!" Ardbert lets go of Era in the briefest way possible to wipe at his eyes without dislodging her tail, their bodies still pressed close. "We'll have to remember that tip about teething on a tail...."
For their own daughter, someday. "... and the adventures, beside."
"He died shortly after her first birthday," she tells him.
"He gave her a Xaelan name as a gift, and his wife found them shortly after. She was angry with him for stealing the baby away, so he scooped her up into his arms, too, and ran home to their son."
Ardbert lost his mother young and never knew his grandparents. But not as violently as Era's earlier selves lost theirs. To hear how a vibrant grandfather died so early in his grandchild's life hurts more than a little.
Gods...
"... I would've loved him. He'd be able to carry the both of us."
"He was an Oronir, but he left the Steppe behind to marry his wife. His Nhaama," Era explains what she has begun to piece together. Small bits that fit into the larger picture. "'Dearest moon of my heart', he called her, relishing in the way it blushed her cheeks and dulled her anger. They seemed a good match."
"The ones I've met were a bunch of pompous arseholes," Era says with a small huff. "Legend says when the Dawn Father, Azim, took mortal form to be with his love—the Dusk Mother, Nhaama—he founded the Oronir tribe...
"...I wonder... were he and Azeyma my past incarnations, or were they simply deities conjured up by the imprint Hemera left upon the souls she helped?"
Ardbert fights back laughter at that description. Sure, they're a bunch of arses, but they're happy. If everyone's like that, are they even considered terrible by their own culture?
The next bit piques his curiosity. "I really wish I knew. Gods, it's strange to think about past lives, isn't it? But it's also comforting to know we don't change much. We always try to help people. Usually, anyway. I'm sure one of us just said screw it to the whole thing and took a lifetime off, the lucky bastard."
She hums a quiet note of agreement, then falls silent again for a time. It is, however, a silence heavy with contemplation, and the anticipation of being broken—the kind Ardbert is so very accustomed to by now with his wife.
Eventually Era does break the silence, first with a tiny hum and then with words proper.
"From across nine worlds... A hundred hundred lifetimes make up the facets of my soul. In those many lifetimes I'm sure you and I have experienced things we could only dream of."
She can think of a few, though still holds onto the distant hope they may yet become reality.
"Right now you are just a part of me... But in my next incarnation you will no longer be a part of me."
Era gives him another fond nudge with her head.
"There will be no 'me' or 'you', only us. A whole new person, together."
He pauses in the same way. Some thoughts should not be rushed. It takes time for them to bear fruit.
And bear fruit these thoughts do, and Ardbert squeezes her. "... knowing things will continue is comforting. I wonder what we'll be like... I wonder what adventures we'll find... and what adventures our previous selves lived through."
"The only sad thing is the lack of amaro on the Source. They might never get to pet one or fly on their back." He's a bit biased.
"With hundreds of lives between us... I'm sure there are few adventures our past lives have missed." Given how full of adventure even just their two lives have been, Era can't imagine their past selves being any different.
"Mayhap I can bring some amaro eggs with me to the Source one day," she muses. "And I could bring more breeds of chocobo back to the First."
The second part of the conversation has been forgotten. "... children." Ardbert's expression softens and saddens. "He would. Not that I can blame him."
But even Emet could have moments of weakness, only for the disappointment to remind him of why he shouldn't have been weak. He nods along to what she says.
Ardbert's smile grows wistful, and he snuggles in a bit closer to her. "Aye, he did. She would've been at home as a child of Amaurot."
Ardbert hums in agreement. "I loved my village, but I still left it seeking adventure. I didn't much like the idea of staying there my entire life. Different reasons, same result, I suppose."
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"The Scions, while kind and accepting, saw me first as an asset," she admits. It changed over time, as Ardbert is well aware, but they would never have given her a thought had she not been blessed with the Echo. "Haurchefant... To him I was always Era, his dear friend who happened to be the Warrior of Light."
And for all that Haurchefant was glad to sing her praises to everyone who knew him, he never made her feel pressured to live up to his expectations. To him, she was already more than enough just as she was.
"...At first I wondered if She took him from me on purpose, but... I think She gave me as much time with him as She could. She's always been good to me, and kept me safe even at Her own expense." Era hesitates, then whispers: "...She was the only mother who ever wanted me."
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Ardbert listens to every word until the very end. His muscles jerk with an aborted hug, wanting to pull Era tightly to him. While his mother had died when he was young, she had at least loved him, and he had his father until he left home.
She had no one, her memories wiped clean, and those few she had were mostly neutral at best, terrible at worst. Haurchefant was the first person to care about her as a person. To lose the only person who cared like that....
Nothing he says can make that go away. Ardbert slowly and gently pulls her closer to him. He can't get both arms around her without it being uncomfortable, but gods, he just wants to hug her tight.
"She would have saved him if she could have." Ardbert whispers gently, blinking back tears. "And my parents, they—they would have loved you."
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"...Nobuyuki loved his daughter," she offers, tentative and uncertain. "Born too early and abandoned by her mother, she was small and sickly, but he and his parents loved her enough to keep her alive."
Era pauses, hesitating once more.
"...I think her grandfather would have adored you. He was a large Xaelan warrior with an axe larger than yours. His name was Ganbold."
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It's the first time she's really talked about her other self's family so unprompted, or that he's heard she was a sickly baby. He smiles through his tears. These memories are good, even if the events before and after are sad.
"An axe bigger than mine? Ganbold's an apt name. Big axe with a bigger heart?"
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Her tone is filled with myriad emotions and no small amount of internal conflict, though Era does well enough at masking it.
"He let her teethe on his tail, and liked to steal her away for adventures once she was strong enough. He was so proud of his little family."
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"Seven fulms? He could have held me like he held her!" Ardbert lets go of Era in the briefest way possible to wipe at his eyes without dislodging her tail, their bodies still pressed close. "We'll have to remember that tip about teething on a tail...."
For their own daughter, someday. "... and the adventures, beside."
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"He gave her a Xaelan name as a gift, and his wife found them shortly after. She was angry with him for stealing the baby away, so he scooped her up into his arms, too, and ran home to their son."
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Gods...
"... I would've loved him. He'd be able to carry the both of us."
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She tilts her head back enough to bump the crown of her head gently against his chin.
"I believe it is seen as one of the very few honorable reasons to leave the Steppe."
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"They love and fight with the same passion. Not a bad way to live."
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"...I wonder... were he and Azeyma my past incarnations, or were they simply deities conjured up by the imprint Hemera left upon the souls she helped?"
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The next bit piques his curiosity. "I really wish I knew. Gods, it's strange to think about past lives, isn't it? But it's also comforting to know we don't change much. We always try to help people. Usually, anyway. I'm sure one of us just said screw it to the whole thing and took a lifetime off, the lucky bastard."
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Eventually Era does break the silence, first with a tiny hum and then with words proper.
"From across nine worlds... A hundred hundred lifetimes make up the facets of my soul. In those many lifetimes I'm sure you and I have experienced things we could only dream of."
She can think of a few, though still holds onto the distant hope they may yet become reality.
"Right now you are just a part of me... But in my next incarnation you will no longer be a part of me."
Era gives him another fond nudge with her head.
"There will be no 'me' or 'you', only us. A whole new person, together."
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And bear fruit these thoughts do, and Ardbert squeezes her. "... knowing things will continue is comforting. I wonder what we'll be like... I wonder what adventures we'll find... and what adventures our previous selves lived through."
"The only sad thing is the lack of amaro on the Source. They might never get to pet one or fly on their back." He's a bit biased.
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"Mayhap I can bring some amaro eggs with me to the Source one day," she muses. "And I could bring more breeds of chocobo back to the First."
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"Aye, both would be good. We need more breeding stock back home for the chocobos. Not to mention, gifting the Source with Amaro."
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To be reminded each day of what he lost by looking at a malformed pittance of a soul. To have children that he would watch grow, wither, and die.
"Unless required for appearances, I can't see him enjoying the disappointment of mortal offspring."
That all said...
"But he seemed ever so fond of Ryne, didn't he? So patient and indulgent. It's no wonder she was fond of him in turn."
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Ardbert's smile grows wistful, and he snuggles in a bit closer to her. "Aye, he did. She would've been at home as a child of Amaurot."
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"Hemera loved Amaurot," she says, contemplative. "But...she did not like it. It was why she thrived as Azem, I think."
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