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finalfantasyxivwritings · 5 years

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Prompt #3: Lost

About FFXIV Write | Personal Entries | by @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

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Lost | adjective

1. unable to find one's way; not knowing one's whereabouts. 2. denoting something that has been taken away or cannot be recovered.

Featuring @samilenjawantal

Note: Though you don't need to read it, this is written in the same continuity as this fic with the reader and Samilen!

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It’s hard not to feel turned around within the thick forest of the Black Shroud. It seems that no matter how familiar you feel you are with the various regions and endless blanket of trees and underbrush, you never quite catch the subtle details needed to have an idea of where you are at any given time.

In short, getting lost is one of your better skills--if anyone could even call it that. Though hardly purposed you do seem to have a knack for finding yourself in confusing places you can barely guide yourself out of, often requiring no shortage of time, sanity or the aid of others to get you out.

Thank the gods for Samilen.

You’re not quiet sure yet how long the man has lived within Gridania (it’s a detail you haven’t felt comfortable enough yet to breach), but it’s obvious that the Keeper knows it more than enough to navigate the thick forest with hardly the help of a map.

While there are many times that he seems nearly to forget that you’re accompanying him on his many botany tasks across the Black Shroud, there’s never been an instance where the two you you had been separated, or at least not in a manner that Samilen hadn’t distinctly told you to stay put for some reason or another--he’s proven to be quite the worrier for most things he thinks you can’t handle, though he did caution correctly about not letting you handle what turned out to be a mildly poisonous flower some suns back.

So suffice to say when you finally do find yourself turned around and utterly alone in the narrow space between several old, thick trees, it comes as quite the shock. You had just seen the Miqo’te a few minutes before--the two of you were following a well-traveled path in the eastern region before your botanical quarry required a little straying, and that had been your undong. In a brief moment of curiosity you had taken your eyes off of his back, just for a singular moment, and suddenly he wasn't there anymore.

The natural noises of the forest seem to covered up any directional indication of where he might be. Left alone and growing fearful, all you can do is stand still and let your mind run with worry--did he wander off without you? What happens if he doesn't find you?

A few minutes past with a similar lack of directional awareness and the fearful thoughts only grow more thick with panic. It seeps into your bones and mind like a cold rain. For a moment the thought crosses that perhaps you could turn around and try to find your way back towards the path, since you might be able to reach town from there and merely wait for Samilen to return--

But even the way back is confusing. The Black Shroud is too mazelike for such simple things, too twisted with greenery and half-forgotten paths that cross over one another; you fear getting even more lost if you try to meander your way back, thereby making it all the harder for your partner to find you. So in turn you're left to stand and hope and wait, trying not to think about how all the little details of the peaceful environment start to feel a tad less peaceful and a little more leering.

At least it's not dark yet--thats the only thing you fear more than getting lost within the ephemeral thickets of the Black Shroud; it didn't get it's name for nothing, you figure, as the blanket of nightfall leaves the forest almost impossible to navigate. Perhaps it's why Samilen so often chooses to take you with him on excursions that are best done during the light of the day--not for his own benefit, but simply to make sure you don't lose your way or find yourself in such a precarious situation.

You're able to find a comfortable spot to sit at least. The exposed, flat part of a tree root proves to be such a spot, leaving you to wait and listen to the soft noises of the forest (of which there are plenty). You've been a partner to the Keeper botanist for several weeks, and he had kept well to the promise of paying you for your aid though you sometimes wondered what manner of aid he pays you for--you're hardly trained in the same field and scarcely know any of the plants in the region. Sometimes you play the part of translator for clients who can't understand his handspeak, and that's fairly worthwhile a duty, but other times...

Well, he pays you for your companionship regardless, and he does pay you quite well. Perhaps it's a situation you're never quite ready or allowed to understand; it's not like you particularly loath the man's company either--he's proven to be a wonderful friend and employer both, even if he so often leaves you wondering quite where you fit, as protective of you as he often is in your standing as an immigrant to Eorzea's lands.

There's a sudden snap of a branch. It's loud and sharp, pulling you out of your thoughts as if ice water had been dumped over your head. Breath catches over your lips as you find yourself upon your feet, body tense and mind rolling over thoughts of panic and dread for what attentions you might have accidentally caught from the inner-city thicket of the forest.

Sprites and bugs are the least you need to worry about. Though unfamiliar with the geography of the East Shroud, you are quite understanding of the creatures that prowl within. Hogs and weevils may be of the many that would give chase, but there is also the constant concern of running into a poacher so especially far from the closest large settlement.

In fact, when you pick out the sound of footsteps, that's the first conclusion your mind clutches to. You've heard about the poachers--aggressive felons who try to hunt the protected game of the forest without a single care to the laws that Gridania and the Twin Adders strictly impose. From how Samilen and others have spoken of them, you're certain that one would sooner use you as a hostage than simply leave you be.

You have little more than a small hatchet that Samilen gave you as a weapon, but you weild it as one all the same; the wooden handle is held so tight against your palms that it almost hurts. The footsteps grow closer and more obviously hyuroid; two feet, pushing through the underbrush in what seems to be a hurry. Fast, faster, closer with every thump of your heart against your chest.

The breath goes cold in your chest when the form finally breaks through the underbrush. A Miqo'te, short, with snow-white hair and dark skin and-

"S-Samilen?"

The name falls from your lips with no shortage of relief in the sound. It's little more than a sigh than else, an echo of the emotion that tangles and kills off each worry and inkling of panic that had settled deep in your thoughts just a few minutes before.

Samilen looks how you feel, and that surprises you more than his appearence relieves you--he looks as equally panicked, golden eyes drawing upon you in a heartbeat and his footsteps hurrying close to you.

'I thought I lost you,' he signs with small, slightly quickened motions. 'Are you alright?'

Though it's now there anymore, you're almost certain in catching the faint imprint of what had been worry pinching between his brows. You know it mostly because the emotion is still in his eyes, shining bright with gold and concern in a way you know he can't hide, and likely doesn't realize he's wearing so clearly. Always the earnest man in word, work and emotion.

"I'm okay," you assure him as much as yourself. "Just lost sight of you is all--you know how easy it is for me to get turned around in some part of the forest."

Though the words are more of a cut to your lacking directional awareness and less so to his attention, Samilen looks worried all the same.

'I promise you'll start to get familiar with it,' he signs again, gentler, his hands spending more time on the words and his ears gently flicking almost with all the same emotional queue as his tail behind him. 'Keep closer to me so you don't get lost again, okay?'

It's obviously something that worries him. You've never really stopped to ask why he stresses so much about the risk, almost to the point of excess, but something tells you that it's an issue far deeper than you merely getting lost. Something that might take a while to understand.

There's a lot to Samilen that you're yet to understand anyway.

You agree to his silent request with a nod.

"I promise I will."

He waits a moment. His eyes flick down to your hips, then back up to your eyes again--its the sortoff look when he was pondering on something. After the Keeper lets out a sigh and seems to come to a decision on his thoughts, he finally extends a hand out to you.

To take in yours.

He doesn't need to form the words with his hands for the message to be clear. Though it catches you by surprise, it doesn't stop your hand from reaching for his in kind. Your fingers intertwine and palms press warm against one another.

Samilen's cheeks look a little darker and his eyes softly avert from yours, but it's so quick that it's hard to catch before he's moving into the thicket, but this time with you gently in tow behind him.

Even in the days after, even when you finally learn some parts of the forest, even when you feel comfortable in its gentle maze of trees and foliage, he still likes to hold your hand.

To keep you from getting lost, of course.

No other reason.

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