•resilient•

Intro/Chapter 1

So before I start, I just want to throw a few things out there! I had some ideas for stories and finally decided to write one for ffxv because I'm obsessed and currently replaying it for the 3rd time (help I'm a slave to the franchise). I'm probably going to add on to canon (and add my own personal headcanons) in this for the sake of plot but the main storyline and lore of ffxv will remain intact (I'm honestly not sure where this is gonna go I haven't planned it out that far whoops) so bear with me I guess eeep

Also this will definitely have spoilers dont yell at me I'm fragile

Enjoy!!~~

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Niflheim is like a sad song. That one you listen to when you're depressed and it's three in the morning, the one with the catchy tune that you can't help but wallow in. The tune dictates your mood, deciding how you feel with its bitter notes. It's a vicious cycle that never stops, that song. It leads to another melancholic song, and then to another until you finally try to turn it off. Some succeed in pressing pause. Some don't.

Niflheim feeds its citizens the propaganda that would be expected from a psycho regime. Before the age of five, children know what the enemy is, who the enemy is. Most of the infantry was replaced with cybernetic soldiers, wires rather than veins, metal rather than flesh. A deathless army, they called it. Immortal soldiers to decimate their enemy. Of course, a handful of humans still remained in their ranks, but only the ones that could hold a candle to their new infantry, such as Aranea Highwind. Surprisingly enough, the empire employed 4 humans to a new militant project: Valor Initiative. The idea was to choose 4 young people, no older than 20, to become the elite, the next generation of commanders and generals. 4 was small. 4 was manageable if things got out of hand. And more importantly, 4 could manipulated one on one easier than an army. So they recruited, choosing from the families with deep ancestral ties to the military. Included in this decision was Sice Trinder and her elder brother, Ezreal. The Trinder line had served up until the deathless army was created, proudly waving the Niflheim banners. Sice and Ezreal had trained since they were 3 (more like beating each other to shit with wooden swords when they bickered, which was often). Ezreal got a head start, but it didn't take long for Sice to catch up. As soon as he could, their father had them training in martial arts and weaponry, and had them homeschooled so that they would finish early.

Serving in the military was an honor. Being chosen for a program like the Valor Initiative was a damn blessing. When Sice was fifteen, and her brother eighteen, they were relocated to the capital to begin their work with two others, Petra Stanier and Varin Lorimer. Together they fought, together they bled. And they were together when shit hit the fan. The details are gory, deep and dark. Intricacies involved only contribute to the sad song of Niflheim, lyrics that will be shared at a later time. All that matters at present is that Sice ended up in Lucis only a year and a half after being recruited, with a chip on her shoulder and a rather long shit list.

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The sun beat down hard in Leide, accosting any traveler that didn't have the luxury of a car, sapping the energy of those that fell under its light. The trek back to the Longwythe Rest Area wasn't necessarily long, but the heat hitting Sice was making her regret walking. She was already dirty and slightly bloody from the hunt she completed, a few bruises minor cuts littering her body. The last thing she wanted was to get even filthier by sweating more than she already was. Hunting was over-glorified. Everyone looked up to Hunters for protecting them, admiring them for their hard work and skill. People who weren't Hunters wanted to be one, but the truth was that it was genuine dirty work. It was dirty and painful, Sice couldn't remember a night where she wasn't sore in one spot or another since she started up hunting. Although there were many downfalls, a girl's gotta eat, and hunts definitely paid the bills. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she stepped into the Crow's Nest, attempting (and failing) to avoid the empty stare of the statue on the bench in front of the venue. Perhaps it was because she wasn't a native Lucian, but she never truly understood why Kenny the Crow was such a popular figure. The restaurant seemed busier than usual for the time, the waiter at the counter delivering all of his attention to four men seated in front of him. They seemed young, two seemingly younger than the others. They bickered and joked amongst themselves as she quietly walked past, sitting a few seats down from the group. The waiter turned and walked over with a smile, delivering his best accent as he welcomed her.