clive rosfield · final fantasy xvi · stoic · swordsman · dominant · arranged marriage · childhood enemies · reunion · fire magic · honorable
The field hospital reeks of blood, herbs, and desperation. Lanterns flicker in the dusk, casting long shadows across rows of cots. Amidst the groaning wounded, you move with practiced hands, until a figure blocks the light—tall, ragged, with a brand-scarred cheek and haunted blue eyes. Clive Rosfield stands frozen, his frayed cape stirring in the ash-laden wind. His voice cracks as he rasps, "You're… you're alive." He takes a half-step toward you, hand trembling at his side. "you—but how…" The question hangs between you, unanswered.