(no subject)

[wouldratherbecrafting]

Hot, acrid wind whipped across the Ghimlyt Dark as Ostrie and the others finally broke through the last line of Garlean defenses. She glanced behind her to see Pepebehi dispatching a straggler while Six held several others at bay, then turned her attention back toward the clearing ahead. Backed by the blood red light from numerous blazes, Zenos stared back, a lopsided, uneasy grin accentuating the bloodlust she could see in his eyes, even from here.

They needed to end it here. He could not be suffered to continue wrecking havoc across Eorzea and her allies.

"I've been waiting for you, my dear friends," Zenos drawled. His grin widened, splitting his face in half in a way that made Ostrie shudder. At his side he held Ame-no-Habakiri loosely, though Ostrie knew it was anything but useless. "Shall we dance?"

It was all the warning he gave before Zenos lunged forward. Ostrie sucked in a breath, caught off guard at his speed, but thankfully Lotus was there to catch his attack with her shield. Sparks flew across the battlefield as the others engaged, Eon all but flying across the open space between them to land his fist against Zenos' face with a satisfying thud only to be tossed aside a moment later as the prince flung him afield. On Eon's heels came a slew of spells from Pepebehi and Estrid, with Six barrelling in, magicked bullets clanging against Zenos' swords with deadly speed.

Ostrie could feel Ratatoskr stir within her, drawn by the sounds of battle, and she took strength from their bond. With a cry, she drew in the great Wyrm's power, feeling it swirl about her, and leaped toward Zenos, bringing her spear down to just narrowly miss cleaving him at the shoulder. He snarled as her spear pierced his armor and ran down his arm, but he'd avoided heavy damage. Ostrie danced back nimbly, albeit slightly winded, and prepared for another jump as Lotus lobbed a shield toward their foe and Six continued harrying Zenos on his flank. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and each attack took its toll much faster than it used to, even with Ratatoskr to bolster her.

The battle raged on for what felt an eternity, the party slowly gaining ground on the crown prince. Xieathe and Altan kept them refreshed, tending to the worst of their ills as they attacked in waves. Ostrie found herself paired with Eon often, using his brute strength as a shield while she jumped, thankful his constant pummeling kept Zenos on the defensive. Lotus and Six expertly juggled the prince's attention between them, while Pepebehi, Estrid, Xie and Altan formed a loose ring along their perimeter, pelting Zenos with spells from afar.

As she landed this latest blow, however, Ostrie was beset suddenly by a dizzy spell. It felt as though something were tugging at her consciousness. It was that same otherworldly calling they'd all heard so many times in the recent past; the same relentless pull against her soul she'd felt as, one after another, their allies had fallen into unending slumber. Ostrie cursed beneath her breath. Whatever this pull was, it had a horrible sense of timing.

Ostrie came to her senses just in time to see Zenos bearing down on her, and it was all she could do to parry. It wasn't enough, though, and she gasped as she felt metal slide into her side, cutting deep enough to knock her from her feet. Breathing heavily, the dragoon pressed a hand to her waist to staunch the bleeding, waiting for Xie to heal her. Only the expected solace never came, and she glanced behind her to see the others laid out on the ground, unconscious.

No... She thought, struggling to her feet. At first she thought Zenos had gotten to them, one of his attacks landing during that brief moment her vision had gone out, but glancing back toward him, he looked as perplexed as she. Ostrie sucked in the hot air and closed her eyes to focus. The dizzy spell. Perhaps...?

Focus.

Her eyes snapped open and she repelled Zenos' attack, though it left her off balance. It didn't matter what had laid her friends low. She was standing, and she had to keep them safe. Zenos wasn't about to offer any of them a reprieve.

Thank you, she murmured to the old soul residing inside her. Had Ratatoskr not warned her, she very likely would be dead.

Drawing on the Wyrm's strength, Ostrie went back on the offensive, doing her best to push Zenos away from the others. Her side ached, blood soaking through her armor as she parried, thrust, and dodged, weaving in jumps whenever possible. But for every blow she landed on Zenos, he landed two on her, and the old dragoon knew it was only a matter of time before her body could take no more.

Retreating for the moment to catch her breath, Ostrie took one last look at her friends - her family - before steeling herself. Taking a deep, painful breath, she closed her eyes. Please, she beseeched the Wyrm with whom she shared a soul. Just this one last time, share your strength with me, Ratatoskr.

In answer, she could feel the dragon's power grow within her. For a brief moment, her pain fled and she felt years younger. She would not waste this gift, she promised, and with a cry to Halone she took to the skies again, focusing all her energy on the man who would threaten her loved ones. She could feel Ratatoskr move around and within her, feel the Wyrm's power build outward and envelope her, swirling in great rivulets. Like a river, it drew the heat of the air around her, focusing it into a deadly spiral, and she brought that power to bear against Zenos, driving down into him with enough force to crack the ground beneath them.

"Six! Ostrie!"

The dragoon glanced up to see the blurry figures of the Azure Dragoon and Lord Commander as they burst onto the battlefield, Estinien going immediately for Zenos. The prince had survived Ostrie's attack, but not unscathed, and with fresh reinforcements arriving, he made his leave. Estinien didn't make it easy for him, though.

"See to the others," she instructed brusquely as Aymeric approached her. He frowned, but did as she said, though not before calling for the chirugeons to see to her wounds. It would be for naught, she knew, but she had not the strength to tell him not to bother. She was fairly certain he knew it, too.

Clinging to her spear, Ostrie did her best to stand, only to fall back to her knees at the attempt.

Rest now, child.

Ostrie frowned, confused. She recognized the voice, but it sounded so far away. She turned her face toward the sound, blinking though the haze, and swore she saw Ratatoskr towering before her. The Wyrm spread her wings wide enough to blot out the fiery sky and brought her snout close to the Elezen, gently brushing Ostrie's cheek with a scaled horn.

Rest, my child, the Wyrm repeated, her voice commanding and yet soothing, as well. She reminded Ostrie of her own mother, and the thought brought her comfort. They are safe now, thanks to you. They will live. So rest. You've earned your slumber.

"Thank you," Ostrie whispered. Her grip on her spear loosened, and as the chirugeons rushed toward her she slowly fell to the ground, a soft smile on her lips as the ghost of Ratatoskr kept watch until Ostrie exhaled for the last time and her soul finally found peace.