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soulstitcher · 6 months ago

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Remember Me

AO3

A/N: Okay, so…first fic in a while. I’ve been having a rough couple weeks. Grief and stress do a lot to disrupt life. I wanted to write something that got the emotions out, then I thought of the unresolved stuff with Eren and his mom, and how much I hate the Alexandrians. So yeah. This one’s angst. Prepare to have your hearts broken. It’s amazing what Goodbye from Arcane can do. Spoilers for Dawntrail!

———

Some time after Sphene’s defeat, Erenville walked through the abandoned ruins of Tesh’pyani, alone. His steps were slow, reminiscent. This was a journey of remembrance.

It had been a while since he’d had alone time, especially in his hometown. He spent much of his time with Elayne, her doing her best to be there for him, but today, when he felt the overwhelming urge to be well away from people…she understood. All she asked was that he take her gun, so he’d be safe on his walk. She waited for him back in Tuliyollal.

Now he walked to the cliff, gazing out at the ground below, his ears folded down slightly, rigid and tense. He closed his eyes and remembered how rroneek had once roamed these dusty plains, their hoofbeats echoing through the dirt. He remembered seeing the herds once during a cold snap, heads bowed against the chilly winds, walking on like a horde of Rus marching across the roads of life. He could still feel the shivers in his bones.

“Elene’shpya? ELENE’SHPYA?!”

He remembered his mother Cahicua calling him, searching for him to get inside and get warm. She’d found him at this very cliff.

“Elene’shpya!” she called in relief, picking him up. “It’s too cold for you out here! What were you doing?”

He had been a shy child, never liking to talk much. Instead of saying it, he motioned out at the herds down below.

“Oh, you wanted to watch the rroneek?” He nodded timidly. “You know what, bunbun?” Cahciua cocked her head, tapping her lip with a mischievously playful grin. “How about tomorrow I take you to Mehwahhetsoan to see the Hhetsarro and their rroneek?”

He didn’t know exactly the expression he made, but he knew his eyes had lit up. Cahciua laughed and took him back inside to the warm fire. Exhaling deeply, Erenville opened his eyes and saw the plains below. No longer did they have rroneek roaming happily. The ground now bore only plain dirt, the rroneek bones rotting somewhere beneath for decades. There was no sun beating down on the rocks — now it was darkness, and frequent rain. It wasn’t hoofbeats echoing across the plains anymore — it was the booms of everlasting thunder.

None of it was supposed to be there.

He couldn’t help but feel a rush of rage at the Alexandrians. How dare they destroy his homeland — how dare they take it all away in the name of their nation, of people who could never understand the heinous crimes they committed against nature and humanity because to them it was normal.

How DARE they take away everything he loved…

Erenville stood still and breathed in and out deeply, letting the sound and motion lull him back to some sense of calm. There was nothing he could do about that — not right now, anyway. He wasn’t on this trip to be angry — he was here to remember.

He walked away from the cliff and back to the village, passing by the houses of friends he’d once known. Of course, he hadn’t exactly been the friendliest, especially with Cahciua’s pressure to get out and have fun and be around others, but there was something to be said of the familiarity of those you grew up with. They may not have been friends, but time and age worked in strange ways.

Too bad Alexandria had erased that too.

He stopped in the village square, his anger conjuring another memory. He’d been a teenager, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Even when he was young, Cahciua had had a habit of wandering off on a whim, always because she had heard of some new mystery or creature and wanted to see it for herself. The day he saw the rroneek herds had been a rare moment when she was actually home. More often than not he was left with her friend Iyaate, or even with her other friend the Dawnservant and his children.

Lately she’d decided he was old enough to mind himself and the house, so she was increasingly up and leaving without saying a word to him. He didn’t know where she was going or who she was with, or even if she would come back. All he could do was wait and worry. And it was starting to eat him up inside.

She’d just come home from another of her trips, and he was waiting at the doorway, arms crossed and nostrils flaring.

“Where have you been?” he asked, not waiting for a greeting. “I have been waiting for you for days, Mother.”

“I’m sorry, Elene’shpya — a friend in Sheshenewezi Springs wanted to show me some of the new inventions they were cooking up and I had to go see —“ Cahciua told him.

“So that’s where you’ve been!” he said, throwing his hands up. “Why didn’t you just tell me that was where you going?! Then I wouldn’t have had to spend days worrying!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t, there wasn’t any time —“

“Oh, you’re sorry? That’s what you said last time. And the time before that. And all the times before that. But you still do it. There’s never any time! You didn’t think to! You thought I’d be alright! Can’t you see that I’m not alright, Mother?!” Erenville shouted at her.

Cahciua froze. So did everyone else in the vicinity; they’d heard him shouting and came out to see what was going on.

“You leave me here and I’m stuck here waiting for you to come back! I don’t know where you go, and I lose my fucking mind, Mother! What if you’re hurt? What if you’re dead?! I don’t know, because I wouldn’t know where to look for you! Do you think that because I can take care of myself now that I don’t need you anymore?! I still need you, Mother!”

Erenville had never cried much before, but he definitely was now, hot angry tears spilling from his eyes. Heat surged through his every vein; he felt like he would erupt.

“I have needed you every time you left, but you didn’t listen! You didn’t seem to care! You just left me alone, every time! Did you ever care, Mother?! Is that all I am to you, an obligation?!” he screamed at her.

Cahciua stared at him, and for the first time, he could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Elene’shpya, I —“

He shook his head, not listening to whatever she tried to say. “No. No. That’s it. That’s fucking it. This is one time too many.” He ran back inside, got a satchel, some food, and a skin of water, and came back out, hoisting it over his shoulder. “I’m done waiting for you. Enjoy your life without me to weigh you down.”

“Elene’shpya —“ Cahciua grabbed his wrist.

“Let me go!” he yelled, jerking his hand out of her grasp. “You’re not stopping me. You’ve made your choice. I’ve made mine.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, enraged venom dripping with every word. “I hate you. I hope I never see you again.”

He stalked off, stomping. Cahciua tried to go after him, screaming his name, before she stopped and fell to her knees, sobbing.

It wasn’t until many miles later, and night had fallen, that he stopped and realized exactly what he’d said to her. Regret and shame had flooded his senses, but…pride and arrogance, ever the sins of youth, had overpowered him, and even then he was still too angry to think about going back. So he went to Tuliyollal, asking the Dawnservant if he could stay with them for a few days to cool off. For once, the Dawnservant acquiesced, and as far as Erenville knew, he never said a word to Cahciua about where her son had gone.

Erenville felt a hard lump in his throat as he remembered that fight, guilt flooding him. He’d returned to Tesh’pyani eventually, but it was after months of traveling and attempting to find the golden city, an unconscious attempt to prove to her that he was worth something, and nothing was the same between them. They rarely ever spoke to each other, and now he left as often as she did, not being able to stand being near her for long. He had the rest of Tural to see.

And it was worth it, too; he saw the wonders of Yok Tural and the people who lived there, the opportunity-seeking but well-meaning Pelupelu, the prideful and ambitious Mamool Ja, the eccentric and inventive Moblins, the cheerful and lively Hanuhanu. He got to see the hidden villages of Xak Tural, where canyons of blue gold were being hollowed out to fuel creatures with metal lungs that coughed out smoke and soot, and the frozen reaches where everything seemed stopped in cold time.

But nothing made up for what happened between mother and son.

Fighting down the lump in his throat, Erenville slowly walked to his old home, ducking into the entryway to get inside. The windows were gone, rotted away. Half the ceiling upstairs had caved in. Everything was covered in dust. But there were still some traces of those who once lived there. The pots and pans were still there, still neatly stacked on the counter. Cahciua’s rock collection still stood on the shelf. Paintings they had made when he was little still lined the walls, faded but still there.

He took off his backpack and placed it against the counter, then slid Elayne’s musketoon off his shoulder and carefully leaned it beside the pack. He lowered himself to the dirt floor, sitting with his legs crossed as he looked around. His eyes came to the kitchen table, and he had to fight down the gasp as he remembered the very last time he spoke to his mother in the flesh.

He was twenty-two, maybe twenty-three. He’d forgotten exactly how long it had been. He’d come home from another trip, this time to Tuliyollal to pay a quick visit to Lamaty’i. For once Cahciua was home at the same time he was, her back turned and working on chopping vegetables for dinner. He hadn’t been sure what he was making. She didn’t acknowledge his presence. In the approximately five years since the fight, she had deflated. Nowhere near as happy-go-lucky as she had once been.

And for some reason, there was a letter on the table, waiting for him.

Without hesitating, Erenville picked up the letter and opened it, reading it quickly. It was an invitation to go to Sharlayan, to check out the gleaners’ guildship. His eyes had gone wide at the opportunity.

“Koana sent that,” Cahciua finally said, not looking at her son. “He wants you to join him in Sharlayan.”

“He does?” Erenville said quietly.

Cahciua nodded, still not looking at him. “I think you should go. It would be good for you.”

Erenville glanced at the letter, then at her. It was the first time in years he’d felt like her uncertain fussy little bunbun. “Are you sure?”

Cahciua nodded again. “It would be good for you,” she repeated.

The next day, he had packed the essentials. There would be food on the ship, but he still packed some for the trip back to Tuliyollal. Cahciua had watched him, not saying much, but when he was putting on his boots, she got up and slid a homemade snack and a traditional Shetona pendant into his pack. He elected not to say anything, and he simply hoisted the pack on his shoulders without a word.

Cahciua reached out to pick a thread off his shoulder, and the two finally looked each other in the eye for the first time in years. How…how long had it been? When had he grown up? His time in Tuliyollal? On his trips through Tural? Where had the time gone?

Where had her fussy little bunbun gone?

Cahciua suddenly hugged him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Erenville froze in place. He had no idea what to do. It had been years since she hugged him. But…it had been years since he hugged her. He awkwardly patted her shoulder, blindsided. She squeezed him tightly, then pulled away, an oddly serious expression on her face.

“I love you, Elene’shpya,” she whispered.

It had been years since he heard that. But he couldn’t bear to respond in kind. He simply nodded and muttered, “See you around, Mother.”

And he walked out the door. Leaving her standing there, a tear streaking down her cheek.

Unbeknownst to them, never to see each other again.

Then everything since flooded his memories. The wonder he’d felt with the gleaners. His first kiss with Elayne, the love of his life, under a night of Ishgardian auroras. The first letter he’d sent Cahciua since he left, with a photo of him and Elayne and Lamaty’i, a small but cruel part of him wanting to tell her Look how happy I am here, with my new family. The rite of succession, and his homecoming.

Then the mess with the Alexandrians.

His dead homeland.

His mother resurfaced, only to find out she was an Endless all along.

The very last moments he would ever get with her, knowing he could never truly take back what he’d said all those years ago.

Because the real her would never get to hear it.

I hate you. I love you. You messed up. But I’ll miss you.

I’ll always miss you.

The tears finally broke through the dam, and Erenville finally began to cry, lungs heaving as he sobbed. He fell back until he landed on the ground, flat on his back, and finally let out a gut-wrenching scream of sorrow, burying his face in his hands as his eyes burned like fire.

Remember me, my son.

#ffxiv #ffxiv dawntrail #ffxiv fanfiction #erenville #cahciua #angst #listen to goodbye if you haven’t already it’s amazing #first erenville-centric fic and I’m so happy about it #let my boy properly grieve SE #he needs hugs #and all sorts of comfort #difficult parent relationships

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