solennelagarde:

There’s a familiar figure on the
ground up ahead. Through the smoke and dust and chaos of this battleground that
was once an impenetrable fortress, Arnvi sees the ornate armor of a high
ranking Garlean officer. She knows this particular armor. She knows this
particular officer. In a moment of breathless terror, she breaks formation. The
Eorzeans pouring through the gates and raining down arrows over the walls are
suddenly unimportant. The chorus of shouts and screams and metal-against-metal
fade into the background. 

The officer lies on her back next
to a dead Eorzean Roegadyn. The Eorzean’s axe, resting close to his bloodied,
outstretched hand, is the only explanation necessary for why the Garlean
officer’s left leg has been cleanly severed at the thigh, armor and all. There
is so much blood coating the ground that the officer seems almost to be
drifting in a river of red.

Arnvi throws down her sword and
drops to one knee. “Lina,” she whispers, clawing at the officer’s
helm until she finally manages to pull it off completely. A cloud of black hair
spills out, and a dark-skinned Garlean woman stares up at Arnvi through hollow
eyes.

“Lina!” Arnvi says more
insistently, cupping the woman’s face in her hands. Then she looks up, suddenly
frantic. “Medicus! Medicus! Officer down!”

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