The sun had not yet touched the Sil'Dih ruins; the peach colored skies had barely yet seen the light of morn. Yet under the waterfall, Berrod Armstong stood, naked and alone, braced against the cold torrent of water that deluged him. His hair was loosed from its tail and flowed down to the middle of his back, dark red and matted against his skin. His clothing was piled on a rock not far away, dusty and dirty enough to have warranted the impromptu bath -- but not what spurned it. The Highlander needed comfort, and he found showering water was one of the most comforting things of all.
Berrod ran through the plan in his head over and over. There was always an hour of the early morning when no one stirred in the Agency house, and he was easily able to extract himself from his bed mate - if he was even allowed in the bed by then. Their last fight...it had not been pleasant. It had never been a problem for him to move around quietly, and it was easy  to get down to the vault. All he'd need was a good shoulder bag, enough to stuff the raw coins in. He'd leave the gems. Selling gems was always suspicious. There'd be no need for him to pack clothing, food or supplies, either; with his take from the vault he'd be able to provide himself with new things and then some.Â
The hardest part would be leaving Caleb behind. A whole year had gone since the two had bonded and become almost inseparable; he would just have to take that pain and go forward. He knew Caleb would hurt -- probably hate him for the rest of his life; but he'd heal. It was okay for him to be hated; what he planned to do was despicable. Leaving Grimm behind, Camy, Sarij, Iex, Avenio, I'sen, Athe, Zindelo and all the others...it didn't have to be so difficult; a year ago he didn't know any of them. A year from now it wouldn't matter. Just another thing he did to survive.Â
Sudden nausea overtook him and he doubled over. Anxiety had come in the form of sickness and physical pain. Luckily, he hadn't eaten anything; all that came up was a dry, belching rasp. Three times he retched emptily before straightening up again, trembling from head to toe. He mustered all the willful ignorance he possessed to fight the tempest of emotions and cautions down. It was for the best. This wasn't the life for him. The people he met had come and stolen him from his world, his home. He could never go back to that place, not without being found easily -- but he could start deciding on his own destiny for once.Â
The sudden resentment at the thought was thickly bitter, and angered him to the point where he made solid fists at his sides. It served to strengthen his resolve to do what he wanted to do. As for stealing the gil from the vault -- it was not even enough. He deserved more for being thrown into this situation, for enduring everything he had. He was entitled to it. With that settled, he began to  plan beyond his flight.Â
The first stop would be Limsa -- it was a place where a name was easy to change, and new papers were easy to come by with enough gil -- which he had. A visit to an Aesthetician afterward was intended to change his appearance. Loose his hair some, color it blond, or brown perhaps. Black, even. Change the way he dressed. Maybe walk around in armor for a bit. From there he'd travel back to Ul'Dah to register in the Adventurer's Guild under his new name, bearing his new appearance. After that; Revenant's Toll. The crowd of adventurers there was perfect for him to get lost in. Hells, he'd even do adventuring work there for a living; that sack of gil wouldn't last him forever.Â
Maybe someday he'd be forgotten and return to Ul'Dah. Or just move on to other things. It didn't matter at the moment. One thing was clear; he was done with fighting to do a job he didn't ask for. Done with wrangling grown people like children. Done suffering the consequences of the actions of others. To those who were mistrusting toward him, to those who doubted him, questioned him and challenged him; he'd give them a reason to harp on about being right all along.
In two days, he would rob and leave the Agents, and everyone he had grown to love.
In the end, he loved himself most. A thug and a thief. Perhaps not much had changed, after all.
Berrod ran through the plan in his head over and over. There was always an hour of the early morning when no one stirred in the Agency house, and he was easily able to extract himself from his bed mate - if he was even allowed in the bed by then. Their last fight...it had not been pleasant. It had never been a problem for him to move around quietly, and it was easy  to get down to the vault. All he'd need was a good shoulder bag, enough to stuff the raw coins in. He'd leave the gems. Selling gems was always suspicious. There'd be no need for him to pack clothing, food or supplies, either; with his take from the vault he'd be able to provide himself with new things and then some.Â
The hardest part would be leaving Caleb behind. A whole year had gone since the two had bonded and become almost inseparable; he would just have to take that pain and go forward. He knew Caleb would hurt -- probably hate him for the rest of his life; but he'd heal. It was okay for him to be hated; what he planned to do was despicable. Leaving Grimm behind, Camy, Sarij, Iex, Avenio, I'sen, Athe, Zindelo and all the others...it didn't have to be so difficult; a year ago he didn't know any of them. A year from now it wouldn't matter. Just another thing he did to survive.Â
Sudden nausea overtook him and he doubled over. Anxiety had come in the form of sickness and physical pain. Luckily, he hadn't eaten anything; all that came up was a dry, belching rasp. Three times he retched emptily before straightening up again, trembling from head to toe. He mustered all the willful ignorance he possessed to fight the tempest of emotions and cautions down. It was for the best. This wasn't the life for him. The people he met had come and stolen him from his world, his home. He could never go back to that place, not without being found easily -- but he could start deciding on his own destiny for once.Â
The sudden resentment at the thought was thickly bitter, and angered him to the point where he made solid fists at his sides. It served to strengthen his resolve to do what he wanted to do. As for stealing the gil from the vault -- it was not even enough. He deserved more for being thrown into this situation, for enduring everything he had. He was entitled to it. With that settled, he began to  plan beyond his flight.Â
The first stop would be Limsa -- it was a place where a name was easy to change, and new papers were easy to come by with enough gil -- which he had. A visit to an Aesthetician afterward was intended to change his appearance. Loose his hair some, color it blond, or brown perhaps. Black, even. Change the way he dressed. Maybe walk around in armor for a bit. From there he'd travel back to Ul'Dah to register in the Adventurer's Guild under his new name, bearing his new appearance. After that; Revenant's Toll. The crowd of adventurers there was perfect for him to get lost in. Hells, he'd even do adventuring work there for a living; that sack of gil wouldn't last him forever.Â
Maybe someday he'd be forgotten and return to Ul'Dah. Or just move on to other things. It didn't matter at the moment. One thing was clear; he was done with fighting to do a job he didn't ask for. Done with wrangling grown people like children. Done suffering the consequences of the actions of others. To those who were mistrusting toward him, to those who doubted him, questioned him and challenged him; he'd give them a reason to harp on about being right all along.
In two days, he would rob and leave the Agents, and everyone he had grown to love.
In the end, he loved himself most. A thug and a thief. Perhaps not much had changed, after all.
![[Image: tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png]](https://68.media.tumblr.com/80be4033cdf57fb6268473ef9ce37db6/tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png)
