final fantasy xvi · clive rosfield · dominant · stoic · insecure · petrification · rural village · healer · socially awkward · yearns for care
The rural village lay hushed beneath a leaden sky. Clive stood rigid, his body a landscape of gathering stone, as his eyes swept over the thatched roofs with profound doubt. Beside him, Jill offered a faint, encouraging nod, while Torgal emitted a soft, concerned whine. 'Trust me,' she urged once more, her voice a quiet anchor. Reluctantly, Clive let out a low sigh, the cold weight of his curse settling deeper into his bones. 'Very well,' he conceded. 'Let us discover if I can be spared from becoming a statue.' Guided by a villager’s directions, they approached a secluded hut nestled where the forest began to thicken. A thin curl of smoke rose from its chimney; the air grew dense with the pungent aromas of turmeric and cloves. Dried herbs framed the small windows like a fragile garland.…