Journal

Resistance - Chapter 1
Fic Table of Contents

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV
It's time to face the past.

CWs: none

It's finally time to start the Bozja fic! This is one of the most important bits for both of my boys, and it is angsty. They have a lot to work through, after all, since Kris went MIA for four years going around doing Warrior of Light stuff. I'm not sure how long this one will be, but we'll be going through the whole Bozja story in the process!

Of note, I've moved the Bozja storyline from post-Shadowbringers to post-Stormblood, and Cid's around more. That's the important canon-bending stuff!

Other links: Tumblr | AO3

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"Must you glare at me so, Kris?" Hancock looks over the rim of his teacup at the Viera, rose-rimmed glasses making his gaze inscrutable. "Have some tea! I just wanted to have a simple chat."

Kris sighs and leans over to pour himself some tea. "Chats are never simple with you."

"Hah! You know me too well." Kris's frown only grows deeper as Hancock chuckles, and the Hyur quickly clears his throat before continuing. "I have something of utmost importance to discuss."

Of course it's important… no one would call the Warrior of Light for a relaxing tea time. Kris inwardly rolled his eyes at the unwanted title. He's helped to liberate countries and slew eikons the world over, but it's never enough to earn some rest.

"I received word from Lord Hien that our friends in the Bozjan resistance, our comrades in the Eastern Alliance, seek the aid of distinguished heroes in their fight against the Empire." Hancock sets down his teacup with a smile. "Naturally, your name immediately sprung to mind."

The Bozjan resistance, strange that they're asking for help. Kris remembered some of the interactions—or rather, arguments the Bozjan and Dalmascan resistances had over the years. Neither group was willing to accept much in the way of outside help, to both of their detriment.

But Bozja won't truly be free without loosening the Empire's grip on Rabanastre, and that much is clear to Bojzans and Dalmascans both.

That'll likely mean working with the Dalmascans eventually… but with any luck, my work will be done before I run into someone who recognizes me. The last thing he'd want is for—

"So, what say you?"

Kris snaps out of his thoughts to look at Hancock. "Yes, of course. I can't very well deny them after you so… thoughtfully talked me up, now can I?" He stands up and heads toward the door, tea untouched. "I'll find Hien straightaway. Thank you for the tea."

"Ah, must you leave so soon—" Kris shuts the door before Hancock can finish his sentence.

** **

The next few days flew by in a haze. It appeared that the Bozjan Resistance wanted more than just heroes—they also wanted to outfit them with recreations of the Blades of Gunnhildr. Seeing vaunted heroes on the field with such legendary arms would serve not only to boost morale but also send the Garleans a message that the Queensguard lives on.

The problem was no one remembered how the godsdamned things looked. It appeared, however, that Mikoto from the Students of Baldesion was able to conceive a device to delve into a person's subconscious—and if they found someone who had been close to the weapons in the past, they could get the information they'd need to recreate them now.

However, in years past, the Garleans destroyed the whole of the Bozja capital, and with it, the soldiers that would have seen the Blades. But if Mikoto's precognitive Echo was correct, there is one person who can still help… Cid Garlond.

"Bozja… I would never have thought I could try to atone all these years later." Cid's voice is quiet, nearly carried away from the wind whipping around the airship.

Kris looks towards Cid in silence until the man continues. "The incident that destroyed the capital… it was my fault. If I had only—"

"Self-flagellating will get you nowhere." Kris shakes his head. I know that all too well myself. "We will be diving into your past shortly, anyway. No need to torture yourself by reliving it now."

"Perhaps…" Cid mumbles, then turns to meet Kris's gaze. "Bozja is but a stone's throw away from Dalmasca."

Kris frowns slightly. "That it is."

Through a lapse of judgment on Kris's part, Cid found out about him being a former member of the Dalmascan Resistance. He didn't tell the Garlean much of the details, just enough to sate his curiosity. Thankfully, for his part, Cid never told another soul about this.

But his past is hard to ignore when it's so close by.

Cid clears his throat, then continues. "Is seeing your former comrades again something you wanted? No doubt they are happy to know one of their own is the Warrior of Light."

"I doubt that, Cid. And you know full well it's never been about what I wanted."

The sharp edge in Kris's tone stops Cid from prying further, and the Garlean falls silent. He gives Cid a slightly apologetic look. "My apologies, that came out harsher than intended. Regardless, the Bozjan resistance is not working with Dalmasca—they'd spend too much time bickering instead of fighting the enemy."

"I see…" Cid stares at the horizon as Gangos comes into view, lost in thought.

Kris follows suit, looking at the approaching cove. "Are you ready?"

"No, but I will face the past regardless."

** **

Kris sighs as he watches the sunset. He and Mikoto delved into Cid's past as planned, and the Garlean was forced to face some harsh truths about his family and his past. It felt cruel to put him through that…

However, the effort wasn't fruitless. Cid had been in the inner sanctum that held the Blades, and seen each in enough detail so the others could recreate both the look and important inscriptions upon each weapon.

But as expected, creating the weapons takes time, and Kris has spent the last few days idle. He has offered to go to the battlefront, but Bajsaljen refused, urging Kris to save his strength. The Viera spins a ring on his finger, frustrated with being unable to do anything.

Kris's ears twitch in the direction of footsteps coming from behind, breaking him out of his ruminations. He turns around quickly to the sight of Bajsaljen. "Apologies, I hadn't meant to sneak up on you."

Kris simply shakes his head and turns his gaze from the Hrothgar to the weapon in his hands. "Is that the blade you'll have me wield?"

"Yes." Bajsaljen lifts the greatsword up slightly. "This is Blade's Justice, a greatsword used by one of the Queensguard with some… more unique abilities."

A Dark Knight, then. He takes the greatsword in hand and turns it over a few times. What a savage-looking blade… and deadly sharp to boot. It'd take no effort to cleave a man in two. Such a fitting weapon for the Warrior of Light.

The Resistance leader continues. "The inscriptions you helped us recover have a use, as well. If you channel a small amount of aether into the blade, it will glow. Many soldiers rallied to the Queensguard on the battlefield by flocking to the light."

"Makes sense. Easier than trying to yell over the noise of battle, and it wouldn't be a proper recreation if it didn't act as a beacon… for allies and enemies alike." Bajsaljen fumbles over his words in an attempt to respond, but Kris ignores him and channels a sliver of aether into the blade.

The weapon begins emitting a dark purple hue, somehow bright despite the shade. He watches the blade's colors pulse and shift for a moment before cutting off the flow of aether.

"Fascinating." Kris looks back up to Bajsaljen. "Thank you, I'll be sure to use it well."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Kris had thought the conversation would have ended there, but as the Hrothgar shifted his feet in the sand, it was clear he was not yet done.

"What else, Bajsaljen?"

"Ah—we've… we've completed the recreation of all the weapons, so we are nearly ready for you to join the front lines. We're simply waiting for the soldiers from Dalmasca to join us."

"The Dalmascan Resistance? I thought your group and theirs were on poor terms."

Bajsaljen lets out a growl of frustration. "That is true, but… we thought to extend our hand in hopes of mending the rift, and having a few of their strongest fighters wield the Blades and fight with us. To me, there seems no better way to work towards our shared goal than for the troops to see us all fighting together."

"I can't argue with that." As much as I wish I could… Godsdamnit, why is Dalmascan getting involved already? "Who are the soldiers they're sending?"

"I don't have any names, but of importance, they have a fighter that can wield the Blade's Resolve."

Kris's brow lifts slightly. "You mean… the gunblade? Why would you have a Dalmascan wield the very symbol of the Queensguard?"

"We… have no Gunbreakers among our ranks. Not anymore." Bajsaljen shakes his head and shifts his gaze to the nearly-set sun. "We thought the art completely lost when the capital was destroyed, as so many were killed when the capital fell. We had heard of a survivor happening upon the Dalmascan Resistance, however, and that he trained anyone with the aptitude how to wield a gunblade."

The Hrothgar crosses his arms. "Likely he thought he was the only one left and needed to pass down the art any way possible."

"I see…" Kris remembered the time the Hrothgar mercenary came across his camp all too well. He indeed taught as many as he could how to use a gunblade, but only a handful of soldiers showed enough aptitude and confidence to take them afield.

"But you needn't worry about the resistances' petty squabbles. Just know that you will have allies at your side." Bajsaljen turns around and begins heading back to the camp. "Rest well, the fighting will begin soon."

Kris watches Bajsaljen leave, then looks down at the greatsword, nervously strumming his fingers against the hilt. What awful luck to have Dalmascans joining us so soon. I hope no one recognizes me. And a Gunbreaker too… The Warrior of Light looks out on the water reflecting the last light of dusk. I know there are several Gunbreakers in Dalmasca's ranks, and likely even more since I left, but I can't help but think to…

** **

"Captain Elja..."

Laurent doesn't turn away from the papers scattered across the table of his tent. "What is it?"

"A… a message from the commander."

The Gunbreaker waves a hand vaguely toward the edge of the table. "Put it there, I'll look at it later."

He hears the messenger clear his throat. "The commander said the orders are urgent and I'm not to leave until I've seen you open it."

Laurent huffs and turns on his heel, facing the messenger. "Fine. Give it to me."

The messenger shifts his eyes away from Laurent and holds the letter out.

"Don't be so nervous. I'm not a Garlean." Laurent grabs the letter out of the messenger's hand as he attempts to string together a response.

"I… yes, s-sir…"

Laurent ignores him as he breaks the seal. Whenever Fran needs something from me, it's never anything pleasant. As fuchsia eyes scanned the letter, he could tell that this time would be no different.

~

I have an urgent request for you. The Bozjan Resistance is looking to make a push to liberate their lands now that Garlemald is reeling from its losses. They are looking to recreate the Gueensguard, with none other than the Warrior of Light at their head.

Furthermore, the Bozjans have asked for a few token warriors in our ranks to help with the push, looking to bring us into the Queensguard as well. It appears to be a goodwill attempt, perhaps a way to get us to shift our focus to Bozja. That said, a unified front will be better than a fragmented one, so regardless of the reason I felt compelled to agree.

You are to travel to Gangos, where the resistance is currently stationed. Go there, accept their terms, and fight to free Bozja so we can free our own lands. Make sure our interests are known, so that they will not forget this kindness and help us, in turn.

~

"What in the hells is this? I am to simply drop everything and head to Bozja? Ridiculous—" Laurent looks up from the letter to complain to the messenger only to find him gone. I guess he did see me open the letter…

He reads over the contents a few more times before pinching the bridge of his nose. Gods, why me? I've never been good at dealing with the Bojzans. Eir was—Laurent shakes his head and begins packing the tent up. I came here to fight, not to hem and haw over nothing.

"And the Warrior of Light, too…" The Viera clicked his tongue in annoyance. He had heard plenty of stories of the supposed hero that has liberated countries around Hydaelyn, but they sounded too fantastical to be true.

No singular person could achieve such feats on their own. "On top of the Bozjans, I'll have to deal with some pretentious and over-confident child that rode on the coattails of the armies. Gods, what a mission…"

But, I can't refuse Fran, so… I best prepare to leave.

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