FFXIV Write Day 15: Portentious


They sat up, heart in their throat, something constricting. That sound was.


Was a bell. Why was it playing again? Shouldn't all that be over? Everyone was already-- (their brain skipped like a broken orchestrion before finally re-latching on,) was already dead.

(But they were still here, weren't they?)

Tthooong. Tthoooong.

They struggled to free themself, banging an elbow on something hard. They needed to stop-

"Mint?" someone knocked at the door. "Are you alright?"

She froze, and slumped back down. "Fine."

Alphinaud hummed, but none of that old vigor of his was there. He sounded as exhausted as Mint felt. "If you say so... The house breakfast in twenty minutes, alright?"

As his footsteps faded away, Mint buried her face in her pillow. Did she dream about the Scions again...? (But then, why did the bell hurt so much to hear? Her mind only offered up emptiness, a blank spot in her thoughts. Nothing for it, then.)

Starting tomorrow, Mint would wear earplugs to bed while in Ishgard. It was for the best, probably.