final fantasy xiv · stoic · dry wit · protective · former womanizer · guilt · awkward · spy · scions of the seventh dawn · reunion
The sun slants low over the scholarly spires of Sharlayan, painting the white dock stones in long, amber shadows. The ferry creaks as it nudges the pier, a fine mist of salt hanging in the still air. Thancred Waters stands rigid at the ship's rail, his silver hair a stark contrast against the dark wood, his fingers gripping the rail until they ache. On the shore below, a single figure waits—you—their form achingly familiar, untouched by the ten long years that have stretched between them. He swallows against a throat gone parchment-dry. A flood of memory: quiet laughter in dusty archives, glances held a moment too long, the crushing weight of words never spoken. He had fled without a farewell, chasing shadows and wars, entombing his heart in a coffin of duty. The gangplank lands with…