Final Fantasy XIV

Summary

Alphinaud is determined to conquer his fear of ghosts.

I-I’m not afraid, merely excited! Alphinaud’s words from his first time visiting the Sirensong Sea echoed through his head. Alisaie had rolled her eyes at the time, which had made Alphinaud chagrined.

But that had been some time ago. Alpinaud had been through a lot since then. So many adventures, so much peril–surely by now, his fear of ghosts had abated?

Only one way to find out. He stood at the prow of Carvallain’s ship, sea salt spraying his face, both hoping and fearing they’d find the ship graveyard again. He squashed the fear as well as he could, but it kept bubbling back.

As before, the sea was shrouded in mist. Even with the knowledge that their destination must be getting close, Alphinaud still startled when one of the crew called out: “Island, dead ahead!”

Carvallain ordered the sails furled. The ship slowed and ran aground. “You sure about this, lad?” Carvallain asked.

“Quite,” Alphinaud responded. He stepped off the ship–alone. His nouliths fluttered nervously around him. He’d gotten used to Father’s weapons and had grown quite comfortable with them, but now he felt a pang for a good codex and the presence of Carbuncle. Oh, he knew the egi was not really flesh, just an arcane entity, but still, it would have been comforting to have the illusion of a companion with him.

He took a deep breath, tried not to hold it, and marched forward. It didn’t take long before he was set upon by his first enemies. He felt relief–and also a pang of guilt–that they were not undead but just some ordinary Ymirs and Crackclaws. He made short work of them, nouliths flashing.

The second group of mobs caused a sharp intake of breath: banshees. “You can do this, Alphinaud,” he muttered, and attacked. Thankfully, they too went down quick, but afterward he could feel his pulse had quickened, and not just from the exertion of battle.

He made a frustrated noise, and went on. This was not likely to get any easier, but he was determined to see it through…

Soon enough, he was approaching the Jane Guy. As before, the ghost ship glowed eerily. He crept aboard. One step… Two steps…

…and there they were: skeletons. He tried not to yelp, but it slipped out; the skeletons heard, and turned and advanced on him.

“I’m..I’M NOT AFRAID!” Alphinaud shouted, and sent his nouliths flying towards them. But oh, he was afraid; his heart was beating erratically and it took effort to control his weapons. He chanted his spells in his mind: Dosis, Phlegma, Dyskrasia. Dosis, Phlegma, Dyskrasia. The chanting seemed to work, as minutes later he stood alone, the skeletons vanquished.

He took a couple of deep breaths. This was not going as well as he had hoped. Sure, he was winning the fights, but the fear he’d had for so long was still there. Would nothing drive it away?

He was not one to see a job undone, and thus he continued on. Specters, zombies, and more: he fought them all, knees shaking but somehow managing to hold him upright nonetheless. Ever closer he came to the lighthouse, at the end of the island’s path. On their last visit, they had fought against Lorelei there. The undead siren had been fearsome, with a wide grinning mouth, dark eyes, and feathery appendages. Alphinaud dreaded to fight her again, but he was here on a mission, and was determined to see it through in spite of his fear.

And all too soon, he was there inside the lighthouse, but before him was not Lorelei but an entirely different apparition. It was the silvery glow that gave her ghostly nature away; with her long hair, slim body and pretty features, she could have passed for your average Hyur.

She turned to him and, upon spotting him, smiled. Alphinaud found the smile curious, for it hadn’t been reviling but gentle. He could not relax, though; all those ghost stories of his youth that frightened him came back to his mind, and his pulse quickened as the ghost started moving towards him slowly.

He wanted to bolt, but his legs wouldn’t allow it. Soon she was standing right in front of him. She smiled gently again, then reached out a hand and tapped the back of his balled fist twice.

His nouliths fell to the floor in his shock at the touch. He wasn’t sure what he had expected – wasn’t there stories of ghosts passing right through a person? Yet her touch had been firm. Cool, yes, but firm.

The academician in him reared up at this: he wanted to know if he had been mistaken in how her touch felt. She was still standing in front of him, looking at him directly. Hesitantly, he tugged off his glove, and reached out and tapped her hand, as she had done his.

Again: coolness, but her skin was firmer than any ghost had the right to be. She smiled again, and nodded at him, then reached out once more to touch his arm lightly.

And then she waited.

Still a bit hesitant, he dittoed her touch once more. She nodded again. They continued trading light touches: first a bicep, then a shoulder. Slowly, Alphinaud began to relax.

Then she brushed her thumb against the bare skin of his inner wrist, and Alpinaud’s pulse sang. It was an intimate touch, more so than the cursory ones they had traded up to now. He hesitated, then brushed his own thumb against her wrist, and felt surprise as warmth bloomed under his thumb.

Yes, this was far exceeding his expectations.

She smiled that gentle smile at him again, then brought up a hand to cup his cheek. His breath hitched at the touch, and found himself dittoing her again, cupping her cheek gently, which blossomed in rosy warmth. As one, they leaned in together, and their lips touched: hers cool at first but then radiating his heat. If he had had his senses right now, he might have wondered if she was stealing his warmth for nefarious purposes, but his mind was dazed as he lost himself in that kiss. It was gentle, and sweet, and he was just yearning for more of her touch when he suddenly found himself stumbling forward awkwardly before catching his balance.

Just like that, she was gone.

He took a few deep breaths. Slowly his pulse quieted, but his mind was anything but. A multitude of questions peppered his thoughts: Who was she? Where had she gone? How was it that he could feel her touch? Would the experience be repeatable should she appear again? He felt himself blush a bit at the memory of her kiss, but it was not so much the intimacy he craved, but the knowledge. It was a good thing he had intended to return home to Sharlayan after this; he was eager to hit the stacks at Noumenon—surely there would be writings about such phenomena there?

He turned to leave and nearly tripped over his weapons, which still lay quietly on the ground. It hit him then: his fear was gone. He could almost hear Estinien laughing at the absurdity of it all. The dragoon would find it amusing, but Alphinaud didn’t care; he had research to do. He waved his arm and his nouliths sprung into position behind him once more. It was time he headed back to Carvallain’s ship, filled with real excitement this time.

Notes

Partially inspired by all my friends participating in Spook Me! last year. I didn't participate because well, it's rare that I write, but then this idea got into my head and wouldn't let go... (Also, I really had fun writing the Sage weapons!)