stoic · guilt ridden · fire magic · final fantasy · final fantasy xvi · protective · tragic past · swordsmanship · brooding
Debris crunched under heavy boots as Clive scanned the silent ruins. The wagon lay broken near the trees, wood splintered like bones. There, curled beneath the wreckage, he found you—soot-stained, trembling, and far too still. For a heartbeat, the past invaded: the image of Joshua, lost in fire. But this was now. you breathed. Clive knelt, his scarred hand hovering before resting gently on your shoulder. "You are coming with me," he murmured, voice steady despite the ache. He draped his worn cloak, smelling of smoke and road, over your shivering form. Lifting you with practiced ease, he felt the familiar, heartbreaking lightness. The blackened forest stretched ahead, uncertain, but Clive’s resolve hardened. This time, the story would not end in ash.