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There are some things about being blessed by Hydaelyn that you notice right away – such as the fact that you can understand anyone now, regardless of their race or language. Things previously hidden to you are now suddenly in plain sight.
But there are other things that appear more subtly.
For example, the mark that has appeared on the inside of your left wrist. At first it wasn’t very apparent, appearing first as a smudge of dirt before gradually darkening into recognizable lines. The meaning of it has you mystified completely, but your efforts to research the matter have proven fruitless as best.
It’s not until you meet the Scions that things finally start to fall into place.
---
The Scions were Hydaelyn sent –literally. From the moment you walk through the doors of the Waking Sands there was nothing but acceptance and love. There’s Thancred with his playful flirtations and Y’shtola with her astute observations; Yda who is forever optimistic and Papalymo, her grumpy counterpart; and then Urianger, whose poetic way of speaking leaves him hard to comprehend even with the assistance of the Echo.
And then there is the Antecedent, Minfillia, the shining centerpiece of it all. She welcomes you to their home with open arms and you accept, grateful to have finally found a place where you belong.
But there is more than just a home here – Minfillia is blessed with the Echo much like yourself and when the others have been dismissed she sits you down to talk.
With the patience of a saint she answers your flurry of questions, one after the other.
Inevitably the matter of the mark on your wrist comes up. Hesitantly you pull off the leather band you have been using to cover it up and show it to her.
“Oh.” Minfillia gasps quietly, hand going to her mouth.
“You know what is it, then?”
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Yes. I do. One could consider it as a fate mark – it responds specifically to one person.”
“And that person is…?”
“It’s…well, it’s supposedly the person you are destined to be with.”
The idea that a few simple lines on your skin could dictate who you love most in life is hard to comprehend – particularly as you have never felt anything beyond platonic friendship for others. You nod anyways because you are confident that she would not intentionally mislead you, and launch into your next question.
“Do you know who yours is for?” It might be intrusive, especially for someone you just met, but your curiosity burns.
Minfillia smiles politely, not even looking mildly offended at the bluntness of your inquiry. “No, I don’t. But one day I’m sure I’ll find out.”
The conversation does not play out for much longer from there. Though you are still full of eagerness there is other work to be done. She bids you a farewell and you stand up, bowing gratefully.
As you turn to leave you fail to register the sad look in her eyes until you are long gone.
---
The Thousand Maws of Toto-rak is a dark, dank, and thoroughly unpleasant place, but nowhere near as unpleasant as the hooded man who stands in the center of the Abacination Chamber. His words are strange but you understand them – even if you didn’t you would have easily picked up on his arrogance.
“An intriguing power, the Echo. I must need speak my words with care.”
He bows mockingly, introducing himself. “I am Lahabrea, of the Ascians. Servant to the One True God.”
Somehow you get the feeling he’s not referring to Hydaelyn.
“Yours is a most fascinating tale. Truly absorbing.” He continues. “It is a tale to tell the children of Eorzea before bedtime.”
The Dark Minions… Hydaelyn’s voice comes to you again, cautioning. Without thinking your hands are on your weapons but Lahabrea merely laughs. “Do you suppose yourself strong enough to defy me as you are?”
Not really but it’s worth a try – anything he is planning cannot be for the good of the realm. The Ascian, however, is completely disinterested in engaging in combat with you and seems to be more into taking careful observance.
Though you cannot see his face underneath the mask you sense his glance at your wrist. Instinctively you move to cover it up despite the leather band covering the mark. Lahabrea’s lips turn upwards in a cruel smile of amusement. “Pitiful. As long as you choose to walk Her path you will never know lasting joy.”
Your brows furrow, confused by his wording. But he did not stay to explain them to you.
“Farewell, o Bringer of Light. Like all good tales, yours must needs come to an end.” He beckons upwards and a banemite, morphed and twisted beyond all reason crashes down onto the floor. Its pincers clack as it gave an unholy shriek of fury, and you have no time to give thought of chasing after the Ascian or pondering his words before the banemite comes charging after you with murderous intent.
By the time you are able to defeat it, he is long gone.
---
It is like walking into a living nightmare. The sight of your fallen comrades makes your stomach churn with nausea and your vision sway each time your eyes fall over a new body. Desperately you search the rooms for survivors, finding none until you reach Minfillia’s office to discover one small form still breathing – Noraxia.
Weeping as you cradle Noraxia’s battered body in your arms, the tiny sylph relays one last message from Minfillia to you before passing away.
With no other choice presenting itself, you do as was last bidden to you, leaving behind the memories of the Waking Sands to the Church of Saint Adama Lama. Every step you take away from your home hurts, but nor can you bear to remain there.
If it weren’t for Alphinaud, you might just have spent the rest of your days there living in quiet agony at the Church. With his arrival he brings back the fire you didn’t know you’d lost, reigniting your passion to fight for what you believed in.
But first there is the matter of finding Cid’s lost airship. Your search in Gridania lead you to the frozen wastelands of the Holy See, the wind bitter and the people possibly even more so.
And there you meet him.
You thought your world had ended when the Scions had been attacked – but now it’s ending all over again. Or perhaps, it was just beginning– it was too difficult to tell. The feelings swirling about are so many and so intense it is difficult to pick them apart and make sense of them. And the mark burns like it has never done so before, a prickling sensation that runs up the length of your arm straight to your heart.
Without thinking you procure the letter that Lord Francel gave you, offering it up to him. He takes it and for a brief moment your fingertips brush. The feeling is electrifying and you swear for a brief moment he falters to stare at you. The moment passes too quickly to tell for certain.
You can barely keep yourself together as you casually discuss the matter of the missing Enterprise, but you miraculously pull it off.
When you exit the building you find your strength has suddenly left you and you’re left gasping in the freezing air.
“Are you alright?” Alphinaud asks, looking on in concern as you pant and lean against the cold stone outside. Cid steps forward to help steady you. “Are you getting sick? Should I have them fetch a chirurgeon?”
“No. I am well.” You breathe out, standing up shakily. You politely declined Cid’s proffered arm and forced the tremors running throughout to stop.
And it’s true – for reasons you can’t explain, meeting Haurchefant of House Fortemps has revitalized you in ways you didn’t know possible.
---
With the ordeal of the inquisitor now behind you, there was nothing else to prevent your entry into the Stone Vigil. As you begin to gather what you need, you find your preparations halted by the unexpected appearance of Haurchefant.
“Ah, there you are! I was hoping I could catch you before you were on your way!” He grins at you and though you try your hardest to suppress it you felt a blush rising to your cheeks.
“What brings you to Whitebrim?” You ask, ignoring the sudden racing of your heart.
“I felt the urge to come see you again and thank you personally for everything you have done.”
“There’s really no need to.” You look away, suddenly shy and absentmindedly rubbing at your wrist though the cuff.
“But I insist! And that’s why I came to inform you that our camp shall ever be open to you and your allies in your times of need!”
“That is quite generous of you.” You reply. His grin widens and he chatters on happily with you before Alphinaud comes calling in, informing you that he would like to depart sometime this era.
Haurchefant looks put out to have his time cut with you short and you feel the same, although you are careful to shield that emotion from him. You promise to come see him again, an idea that delights him.
He shakes your hand firmly in farewell and you know, for certain this time, that his hand lingers in yours before falling away.
---
It’s a long time coming, but you’re finally able to make good on your promise to visit again albeit overshadowed by the political reasons. As you approach Camp Dragonhead you can feel the tell-tale pricks dance across your skin to let you know that he is close – indeed, Haurchefant is inside at his post looking over a mess of documents until you enter.
“Ah, the Warrior of Light! Ever a welcome sight here!”
Haurchefant stands to embrace you tightly and you accept it with no small amount of satisfaction. He steps back, beaming brightly at you and you can’t help but return his infectious smile.
“Our hearths have been stoked to blazing in anticipation of your arrival! It would not do for such a distinguished personage to catch a cold whilst enjoying our hospitality! And speaking of hospitality,” his tone lowers, “you should know that the doors to my chambers are always-“
“The gesture is much appreciated. I feel I shall ever struggle in these cold climates.”
You’re disappointed when Alphinaud came in and interrupted, completely oblivious to what he’s walked into.
Haurchefant’s enthusiasm dims significantly as well as he glances over at the younger Elezen, his smile becoming tighter with strain. “Ah, Master Alphinaud…An honor, as always.” His displeasure escapes the younger Elezen’s notice.
The unspoken offer piques your interest, but it seemed it would have to wait until the more important matters are taken care of first.
As fates plan it, you are unable to learn more about his offer until several weeks later as you lay in bed at Camp Dragonhead, recovering from your trial with the Primal Shiva.
A quiet knocks announces his arrival but you already know it;s him from the warm sensation in your wrist. You bid him entrance and so he does, the door to your loaned room clicking quietly shut behind him. You notice immediately that he is wearing lighter cloth instead of his traditional armor – he must be off duty. In his hands is a kettle of hot cocoa with him which he quickly sets aside on the small table.
“I do believe you have yet to experience the full extent of my hospitality.” He says with his eyes twinkling.
You watch him intently as he approached you slowly. He positions himself on the edge of your bed and leans in, staring you down. You stare back, eyes wide but you do not feel afraid.
“What?” You blurt out after several awkward moments of him not saying anything.
“It’s just…” Haurchefant hesitates, and then confesses, “It’s just that ever since I met you I have been hopelessly attracted you. And the more I try to reason with myself how illogical I’m being, the more attracted I find myself to you.”
“O-oh.” You exhale shakily, not sure how to respond.
“Am I the only one?” He presses.
“No.” You say in the same breath as you lean forward to kiss him on the lips. He stiffens and you think, for a heart stopping moment, that maybe you are wrong – and then he suddenly pushes you back on the bed, kissing you fervently.
You gasp, clutching at him as his hands dance across the length of your body, touching and teasing until there is a fire burning in your belly. You are barely aware of the clothes sliding off but you are aware of how he repositions himself over you and you allow it with an eagerness that surprises even yourself.
You know it’s all happening so fast but you don’t feel alarmed at all; only relieved and excited as you finally come together with him as one - as if it were always meant to be.
---
He’s your savior for the second time after that catastrophic Feast, bringing you back from the brink of darkness just before you fall in. Your faith in others is shaken, but Haurchefant remains a faithful ally.
He makes good on his offer from long ago, providing a safe haven for you that you might recover. Still, you remain wary of others, friend or otherwise, retreating into yourself to allow time to process what had happened.
It is as you lay one night, replaying the events of that night for the hundredth time more that he comes to visit you. You cannot bear to turn him away and so you allow him in, where he quickly embraces you and pulls you in for a kiss.
But instead of indulging in those sinful pleasures as before he simply holds you and strokes your hair, reminding you that he will always think of you as a beautiful person, as a hero.
-
Even in Ishgard there is plenty of work to do that only you seem capable. But you find you don’t mind as much for you are oft accompanied by Haurchefant to perform duties. In the chance you have free time you reverse it, following after him whenever possible to help him finish his.
The nights are also spent comfortably at his side, spent in front of a warm hearth with a mug of his cherished hot cocoa and usually ending in bursts of ecstasy. You are both quite shameless in it, and the house and your allies are good enough to overlook it.
You wonder how you can possibly be so lucky to have someone so beautiful like him here to love you. Maybe it’s the Soul Mark making you like this, and a part of you ponders if you would be just as happy with him if you weren’t under its influence – and then you realize it doesn’t matter.
You could be happy like this with him, forever.
---
Of course, forever does not actually last.
As you soon learn, the truth of Isghard is not what you were led to believe but something different entirely, something darker. It is the feared and infamous Lady Iceheart who guides you and the Azure Dragoon down that path, revealing what the Holy See has hidden for centuries.
But, truth or not, nothing now will prevent Nidhogg raining destruction down upon Ishgard and that is something you cannot allow. Though you sympathize with Ysayle’s sorrow you know there is no other choice.
So you return to Ishgard to seek a possible transport and are informed that such a thing is obtainable if only you wait. You agree, already knowing exactly where you plan to go.
It is to Camp Dragonhead you return to as you await news of the Manacutters completion, sneaking into Haurchefant’s room to await him. The moment he opened the door he spotted you, jaw dropping momentarily in surprise to find you sitting placidly on the edge of his bed.
“You have returned to me!” There is a rush of air before he is suddenly on top of you, hugging you so tight you can barely breathe.
Despite yourself you laugh at his enthusiasm, indulging him in a kiss as he dotes over you.
“Have you been well? I scarce knew you were making plans to leave before you had already gone. I was quite concerned!”
“Yes, yes, I am fine.” You neglect the details behind your journey for now as you pat the top of his head consolingly. He does not even bother to remove his armor as he lays in bed with you, stroking your hair as is his habit to do so now. You smile, leaning in close to nuzzle him and bask in his company.
At some point, though you are not exactly sure when or why, he begins talking again.
“I envy you, you know – sometimes I envy myself. To be able to take off on adventures at a whim.” Haurchefant tells you as you lay together, basking in each other’s company. “My mother was a woman most beautiful and righteous, yet terribly, terribly frail. Though she desired to explore what lay beyond Ishgard;s walls she was unable to journey outside her own home most of the time. As such, I am ever fascinated by those with physical and spiritual fortitude in equal measure.”
“I have always wondered if perhaps…ah, well, it no longer matters.” He shrugged. “We’re here now, and I suppose that’s what is most important.”
“It is.” You agree just as you drift off to sleep in his arms.
---
Chaos, confusion – the invasion of the Heretics within the walls of the Holy See brings madness onto the streets. It’s not what you expected to come back to following the defeat of Nidhogg.
Following the prickling of your wrist as it intensifies, you run down the street with Estinien and Ysayle close behind – straight into Haurchefant’s arms. You both stagger but he manages to steady himself and catch you before you can fall over, holding you close to him for a brief moment. However, you cannot relish the warmth of being near him with such pressing matters at hand.
He looks to you, then over at Ysayle, tense.
“It’s alright.” You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She’s with me.”
You can see the hesitation in his face but underneath his chainmail you feel his muscles relax ever so subtly. He looked back at you and nodded. “I trust you.”
“That’s all I need.” You breathe out.
“This way!” Ahead Estinien beckons to the top of a ramp where a crowd of heretical followers and temple knights have gathered to face off. You exchange one last look with Haurchefant before rushing off after Estinien with Ysayle taking the lead.
You are just in time to prevent them from engaging in a skirmish, throwing yourself directly between them to physically block. Together you and Haurchefant stand to Ysayle’s back, protecting her as she pleads with her followers to lay down their arms and leave. It’s tense, but she triumphs and you guard her carefully as they put away their weapons.
“Our first concern should be providing succor to those who are in need.” Haurchefant steps in front of a temple knight who had the intent to charge them, looking stern. “If the heretics seek to observe peace, then it would be folly for us not to do the same!”
She nods gratefully to you, gathering her followers and exiting the city proper as fast as they can manage.
Haurchefant turns back to you as the temple knights depart, looking as jovial as he normally does. “That was rather close, don’t you think? ‘Twould seem, at the least, that calm is returning to Ishgard’s streets. Come, let us return to Fortemps manor and you can relay to us the tales of your adventures.”
“Agreed. I shall fetch Ser Aymeric and bring him – he will be quite interested in what there is to be said.” With that Estinien pardons himself, making immediately for the Congregation as you start back for home with Haurchefant.
However, the he seems to have other plans in mind for you.
On the way back to the manor you find yourself unexpectedly pulled into a shielded nook. Confused you turn around to ask Haurchefant what he’s doing only to find him down on one knee before you, the most serious expression on his face you have ever seen him wear.
“Marry me.”
“What?” The question comes so suddenly you have no time to prepare yourself.
“Marry me. When this is all over. I couldn’t stand it when you were gone – I kept thinking, What if you died? What if I never saw you again? It made me sick with worry, with regret over how many opportunities we could have missed and I decided that the moment you got back I would propose to you. I wasn’t really planning on asking you this way – Seven hells, with everything that’s gone on tonight I’ve gone and left the ring at home so I hope you can forgive me,” A ring, “but I swear to you an oath that is stronger than any polished band of metal that I would be faithful to you and you alone as long as you’ll have me. You are the most important thing to me and I love you. So please, please tell me – will you marry me?”
“Of course.” You say without even thinking about it. “Of course!”
He leaps to his feet and grabs your face in both hands, kissing you so passionately you could burst. Your heart is pounding loud enough to drown out any other thoughts and you feel lightheaded from the sudden rush of exhilaration, embracing him back so as to hold onto this moment as long as possible.
And you’re happy. You’re so, so happy.
---
Cold. So cold. And the pain. It’s not you who’s bleeding out on the hallowed ground of the Vault but it might as well be.
“Haurchefant.” You sob, reaching down and clasping his hand tight in yours as if your grip was strong enough to keep his soul anchored to this realm. He lies before you in Ser Aymeric’s arms, a strange aetheric blue fire radiating from the gaping hole in his stomach where that accursed spear had pierced him.
His turns his head slightly to look at you, a weak smile on his face despite the immense amount of pain he is undoubtedly in. “You…are unharmed? F-forgive me…I could not bear the thought of…” His words trail off as he struggles to take in breath and you squeeze his hand tighter to you.
He speaks up once more, imploring you to stay focused on him. “Oh, do not look at me like that so. A smile better suits a hero…”
It’s all you can do to force yourself to give him a genuine smile, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can see in his eyes the immense joy it brings him to see you do so before they start to become unfocused, the spark of life in them dimming slowly.
His last breath leaves him as a sigh, head rolling back as the last of his strength leaves him whilst still wearing that smile.
The moment his eyes close you scream, and collapse.
---
You’re not sure how long you lay there but it’s not very long. Estinien urges you back onto your feet, firmly holding onto your elbow in case you might falter. You lean heavily against him as he supports you and leads you out of the Vault, away from that awful place and its horrid memory which will be forever etched into your mind.
Aymeric assures you that he would see to it that the bod- that Haurchefant would receive the highest care, yet you are loathe to part with him. You kneel back down one last time to rest your forehead against his, holding his hand. You brush your fingertips, little intimate touches that he loves so much. He’s still warm you think and except for the blood he could be mistaken for merely sleeping. You know once you get up and walk away you’ll never get the chance to hold him again. But you have to. There is a final duty you must perform before the day is over.
With a heavy heart you walk up the steps to Fortemps Manor, gently nudging the door aside and entering the foyer to be greeted with the back of Count Edmont.
Before you can speak a word to him he stops you. “Don’t. Please.” You obey.
“A knight lives to serve.” Count Edmont stated. “To protect. To sacrifice. There is no greater calling. Leave me to mourn, and give chase. For my son and for the nation he loved. Go.”
The Count’s words are strong, but his emotions quickly betray him as he collapses to his knees and weeps for his lost son.
You feel numb as you stand there, unable to say or do anything to comfort the sobbing father. Eventually Alphinaud is able to force himself to turn away, gently guiding you out of the room and away from the others as they grieve.
---
More than anything you want to hide yourself away from the world and its agonizing reality, but you cannot escape the frequent, painful throbbing in your wrist as your soul mark reminds you of what you have lost.
Eorzea, also, does not have time to let you mourn; The Archbishop’s plans are furthered day by day, and though you lack the will to do anything anymore, you can scarce bear the thought of letting his sacrifice go in vain. So you get up again, as you always do, to push yourself to be the hero he believed you to be.
---
The wind is bitter and unforgiving, but you refuse to remove from the frozen overhang. The events of the past weak repeat over and over again in your mind until you’re near mad – you’re not quite sure why you thought visiting Haurchefant’s memorial would bring you peace. You’ve been trying so hard and it feels like all you’ve done is make things worse. You have served Hydaelyn faithfully only to lose those closest to you.
Ysayle who has sacrificed herself to prevent the Garleans from shooting down the Enterprise. Estinien has turned into nothing more but a mere vessel for Nidhogg. Minfillia has been lost to the aetherflow of the Mother Crystal.
The weight of your despair crushes you. Lahabrea was right – as long as you continue to serve Hydaelyn and preserve the balance of Eorzea you will never have the happiness you seek so desperately.
So lost are you in your emotions that you fail to notice the approach of another until he kneels besides you to place a single red rose on the site.
“Hello again, old friend…” The words draw your attention fully to him and you recognize Francel de Haillenarte – the one who spurred you onwards to your first meeting with Haurchefant. Noticing your attentions on him he pauses briefly to acknowledge you. “Pray forgive me, I did not intend to disturb you.”
You nod to him and look back at the stone, but for some reason your heart is suddenly not as heavy as it was just moments ago.
“It never gets easier, does it?” Francel smiles sadly at you and you shake your head, agreeing silently. You both remain there without further words for some time before he slowly stands, bowing towards you in farewell and departing.
You watch him quietly go and internally resolve that if you will not at least fight for yourself, you will continue to fight for him.