Archive of Our Own ^beta

Five years.

She had to go back and count them. And so she counted five years.

Five years ago, Hydaelyn saved her from a tragic death in the face of the Seventh Umbral Calamity. The Calamity that she had been assured could not happen. The Calamity where no scholar could identify what element this was to be associated with. It felt perfectly unreal, as did the last five years.

For Dia, contact with others was limited exclusively to what shopkeepers she could talk to in Gridania, a marketplace she learned to navigate on her own. Otherwise, all of her efforts were put into continuing her father's research into the elementals and using all of Oliver's notes to perfect the DuPointe technique. While her efforts in spellcasting were proceeding apace, the elementals were another matter. With the fall of Dalamud did the elementals weaken significantly to the point where they were no longer visible to the naked eye.

In this moment, however, she sat alone, huddled in a corner, her knees meeting her face, blood coating her knuckles, and her eyes red with tears. In front of her, the laboratory once used by Oliver and since taken over by Dia was laid to waste. Torn up notes were strewn about the place, tables were knocked over, chairs were broken, and not a soul could be seen that could help.

It was just her.

Research was a miserable, miserable experience. She had nowhere close to the connection to the elementals that Oliver once had. He had nothing special to him that she knew of; what was he doing differently that she couldn't do herself? She scoured his notes from when he started this project close to thirty years ago with nothing to help her to be found.

She denied it for the last five years.

Today was the day she would admit it.

She couldn't continue Oliver's work.

Everything that he studied and attempted to understand of the creatures was to go to waste.

She had the DuPointe technique, and that was all she could say, not that she said much anymore. Having no one to talk to did that to a woman.

This much in mind, she had no idea what to do. 'Get drunk and sleep' would help tonight, but then the morrow? And the next day? Her life had little meaning when she was in her teens and childhood; it was simply to exist and learn. Now? Where was the meaning? What was next?

The world beyond was massive; so massive, that it was difficult to see the future as more than a void. There was nothing next. And gods, did that frighten her.

Her head looked to her right, and she found a book she had never seen before that moment sitting in the bookshelf. She pulled it out of its spot and opened it up. Inside was a blurb and a signature from someone she never met, but seemed to know Oliver well.

It can only be lived.

But how?

Would that she could ask, but she didn't know this person at all.

She didn't know anybody at all.

Even Buscarron can't remember her.

How do I live my life? How do I find happiness?

I'm so lost.

I'm scared.

I'm alone.

I'm alone.

I'm alone.

------

A knock was heard against the master bedchamber.

"Dia? It's G'raha. Are you awake?"

The painkillers' effects were beginning to wane, leaving her awake enough. "Yeah, come in."

He entered the bedchambers and went to her side. "Lord Aymeric's taken it upon himself to make dinner."

"Oh, has he? I should probably tell him that--" Before she could finish that sentence, she noticed something missing in her ear.

"He's also locked away your linkpearl, though it was initially removed by Alisaie."

"Alisaie!"

"Don't be too angry; your blood pressure can't handle that."

G'raha examined her body to ensure that nothing decided to worsen or become infected, neither of which appeared to be the case. As he examined, however, Alisaie marched in, carrying a copious amount of envelopes and packages.

"The poor delivery moogle has run himself ragged trying to deliver all of these. I don't think there's a soul you've met that's not sent something to wish you well or thank you." She dropped the pile onto Dia's nightstand. "You deserve it, of course."

"She might need that nightstand for medication", G'raha reminded her gently.

"I intend to sort through it, thank you very much."

"Open up the nightstand drawer", Dia advised.

With a curious raise of Alisaie's eyebrows, she followed Dia's instruction and met with a black void, much to her shock.

"What is this?!" Alisaie demanded.

"Just toss them in there, for now. I don't want to make you do all that, and I'd rather read them myself."

Wearing a look of utter dismay, Alisaie hesitantly dropped the pile from the nightstand's top into the nightstand's drawer, watching them disappear.

"I thought you couldn't manipulate aether in your state."

"I set that up ages ago."

"Clever", G'raha complimented. "Do you do that for everything?"

"Just for the smaller spaces. Back when Aymeric and I were just friends, I would send him letters with a care package, and I'd reuse the same box. I'd just pop anything I wanted into a small void I set up in it; I sent him a sandwich, a suit, a pin I picked up in the Ruby Sea, a chewed-up quill- part of a larger joke within the letter series- an interesting vase I found in Kugane that had gold across it- I think the locals called the tradition Kintsugi or something along those lines. I think I sent him an ink se-- nope, that was when we met up in person later. I know there was more, but I can't remember the specifics."

"Interesting."

"I believe the word you meant was 'creepy'", Alisaie refuted.

Dia shrugged her shoulders. "One woman's creepy is another's useful."

Alphinaud soon followed, carrying a tray. "Lord Aymeric will arrive shortly. He asked that I give you your meal, Dia, while he carries the remainder. He made you a different meal than the one we'll be receiving."

The Elezen placed the tray atop her lap, being careful with its balance. It was a soup with plenty of easy-to-digest ingredients. At least Aymeric wasn't sparing with the spices- he knew her too well. Most likely, he followed one of the recipes she wrote for him to the letter. Still, the scent of solid food began to waft in the air and reached the room in time for her to envy. She understood that she couldn't eat solid food if she didn't wish to have a nasty digestive reaction against her heavy painkillers, but she could still dream of eating roast beef.

Soon, Aymeric arrived with a bigger tray with servings enough for the four of them. "If those of you who are able to could come grab your meals, that would be lovely."

The twins and G'raha moved to Aymeric's tray and took their meals from him.

"Thank you", he bid before turning away.

"Where are you going?" Dia asked, her tone sounding disappointed.

"Oh, I thought you all might wish to be left to your own business."

"Noooo, I wanna eat with you. I haven't had a meal with you in weeks."

"Your company would be welcome, Lord Aymeric", Alphinaud insisted.

"C'mon, I'm injured. Sit with me."

Aymeric gave a soft smile and sat at Dia's bedside on the mattress, careful not to trip the balance of her tray. "Better?"

"Much."

Just as they thought they could settle in with their meal, the window burst open loudly, much to the shock of the room's inhabitants. They all stared at the cause, except for Dia, who shouted, "I can't turn my neck! What's going on?!"

"Oh, Estinien! Did you wish to join us? I have extras downstairs I could grab for you", Aymeric offered with a happy smile, unfazed by the dragoon in his bedroom window.

Estinien sat in the window, staring like a deer in headlights at the crowd of people in here, who all stared back at him in a similar fashion.

"Estinien, you're letting in the cold. Join us or don't", Dia ordered.

The dragoon sighed heavily, hopping in and closing the window behind him.

"Don't worry about the meal. I didn't believe I'd be here for very long, anyway."

"You sure? I'm pretty sure Aymeric made my roast beef recipe", Dia asked.

"You should have some, Estinien. It's quite good", Alphinaud insisted.

"Doing instead of thinking as usual, I see", Alisaie barbed.

"Please, Estinien. Enjoy some food. I think we've all deserved something nice", G'raha added.

Estinien let out a long breath through his nose. "All right. I'll grab it."

"No need, Ser Estinien", Angelbert the head steward insisted, entering the room with a plate in hand. "I saw you coming from a malm away, I'm afraid."

"Oh." He gently grabbed the meal from the elderly steward. "Thank you."

"Of course. It's nice to have you back in the house, Ser Estinien. It's been some time."

"Sure, sure."

Angelbert bowed and left the group behind. Angelbert preferred eating alone, so Dia knew better than to ask, much as she would have liked to catch up with him.

"Allow me to find you another chair", Aymeric offered once again.

"No need. I'll stand."

"Are you sure?"

Estinien nodded before taking a bite of the food. "Mm, this is good." He looked up to Dia's tray. "What's that you have there?"

"A light vegetable soup. Something that would do well with her medication", Aymeric answered for her.

"I yearn for solid food", she said dryly.

"At least your weird sense of humor's not gone." Estinien took another bite before asking, "I would have thought if you were having dinner with friends, there'd be more here."

"Well, this is less a planned dinner with friends. If it was, Thancred, Y'shtola, and Urianger would be here, but they've decided to wait until I was better for a social visit. These three, however, showed up at the doorstep and asked Aymeric to let them see me. They've been helping me out since this morning."

"I only wished to repay them for their service, you see", Aymeric added to the explanation, "And thought to make dinner for all of us."

"A very kind thing. Thank you, Lord Aymeric", Alisaie piped in.

"Of course. All of you deserve something for what you've done. I could never truly repay the monumental nature of your actions, but I hope I can continue to offer my assistance. Especially to you, Estinien", Aymeric smiled at him. "If you need anything or simply need an ear to bend, I'm happily available."

"Hm. A nice gesture, though it won't be needed. You should focus on Ishgard, and on Dia, not on me."

"Supporting someone doesn't mean they have to sacrifice these things, Estinien", Dia added. "We're here to support one another, just like you've supported us. Once I'm all patched up and ready to move again, I intend to do just that."

"And we'll be there for you", Alisaie added. "Whatever it is you end up doing with your time."

"Absolutely. We've not made up our minds on what we wish to do with our time now that we've averted the Final Days, but rest assured that we'll always be here for you. Right now, the best use of our time is making sure you're cared for, Dia", Alphinaud added.

"A fine use of our time, at the present moment", G'raha agreed.

"And a use of your time that I will never make you feel bad if you need to move away from it. You deserve to live your lives. After all, life cannot be dictated, it can only be lived."

"Trust us; if this was something we didn't wish to do, you would know", Alisaie insisted. "Now hush and eat your soup."

Dia smiled and took a spoonful of vegetable soup, the rest digging into their roast beef.

She had forgotten about that letter. It spurred her into action so many years ago, yet she left it forgotten in the cottage all those years ago. It wasn't until this moment, however, that she finally understood it. It was here with her friends at her side, laughing and talking, enjoying a fine meal together with her that the words written to Oliver all those years ago made sense. Life was to be lived, and dear gods, did she live it. Almost to extinguishment. Now that she had, there she sat with friends and loved ones galore, more than she could have ever imagined all those years ago. Gods only knew how many more sent their best wishes in that pile Alisaie brought in. Across the star did she have people she could call upon, many looking to aid however they could. She would be sorting through those for a while, a decent way to spend her time while convalescing.

Her life was being lived. Advice that she was sad Oliver could not follow through on, but at the very least, she would not fail him there. No, she was no researcher of elementals; she was Dia Sito, and she would live life as she pleased. It was hers to live.