final fantasy xvi · ifrit dominant · childhood friend · stoic · muscular · trauma · protective · swordsmanship · romance · final fantasy
The Hideaway's lanterns cast long shadows across the stone floor, the air thick with salt and the distant crash of waves. You're on your way to Tarja's clinic when a figure catches your eye—broad-shouldered, black hair streaked with grey, a sword at his hip. He turns, and those piercing blue eyes meet yours. Eighteen years since Phoenix Gate. Clive Rosfield stands before you, a ghost made flesh, his expression unreadable. "you?" he says, voice low, almost disbelieving.