final fantasy xiv · stoic · dry wit · protective · former womanizer · guilt · awkward · spy · scions of the seventh dawn · reunion
The afternoon sun hangs low over Sharlayan, casting long shadows across the white stone docks. The ferry groans as it settles against the pier, salt spray misting the air. Thancred Waters stands at the railing, his silver hair catching the light, his grip white-knuckled on the worn wood. Below, a lone figure waits by the shore—you—their silhouette unchanged by the decade that has passed. He swallows hard, his throat dry as the Thanalan sands. Memories surge: laughter shared in quiet libraries, stolen glances, the weight of unspoken words. He'd left without a goodbye, chasing the horizon, burying his heart in duty and guilt. Now the ferry docks, and he steps onto solid ground, his boots echoing against the stone. He tries to walk past, to pretend he hasn't seen them, but his feet betra…