#Eighth Umbral Calamity

[quinnthebard]

WIP Wednesday :)

A snippet from Like the Dawn, my funky little eighth umbral calamity au thingy? AO3 Summary:

At the world's darkest, just past the events of the Eighth Umbral Calamity, G'raha Tia spends his days surviving. No one woke him up with a plan, the Ironworks crew having not survived long enough to devise such ideas or mechanisms. The world is lost and hope's light snuffed out.Or so he thought until he peered into his mirror and saw her, an echo of someone he knew long ago. Suddenly, an ember thought long dead, rekindled. Reincarnation is a myth right?Then, like the dawn, hope rises and his destiny takes a turn he hadn't foreseen.

The rustle of the reeds from the near barren lake’s shore feels ominous. A wind stirs. The hairs on her arms stand tall. Instinctively, she reaches a hand towards her weapon and she looks around and sniffs the air, the intense scent of ozone, of aether making her nose wrinkle.

Hear…

Saoirse’s heart pounds. Hear wha—

A scream pierces the sky and she runs.

It can’t be very far. The scream was so loud. The soles of her feet pound against the ground, her chest feels—

Feel…

—heavy, breaths shallow and she has to focus in order to keep them long and strong. Another shriek, closer, she thinks.

Think…

Resolution sets in and her fists clench. Exertion is taking its toll on her stamina but still she pushes onward until she reaches a small cavern, its crystalline formations a mix of the familiar blue and the out of place orange uncommon to the rest of Mor Dhona as known to her. On the ground, a child cowers and quivers in the face of a beast or—

—a nightmare more like.

Her blood runs cold at the sight of it. It’s hulking mass was a void of the deepest night. Light can not escape its darkness. Its limbs are barely identifiable within its miasma and the sanguine glow of its eyes felt unnatural. Whatever it is, it commands attention and power. Frozen, she stares, hands useless at her sides. Resting, holstered on her back, her bow is useless but for the first time she’s petrified, well and truly.

Surrender not, my child.

That voice. Saoirse feels like she should know it. It’s comforting, feels like a warm embrace. Caressing her, it floats on the breeze, seemingly audible to only her and with it, the strength to reach back and knock an arrow, taking aim at the creature threatening an innocent child.

A deep breath, steady aim, right at the heart. Or what she assumes is.

Look thee to the Light.

Exhale. Release.

Her quarry roars, rearing tall on its hind legs. The arrow struck true.

“Run!”

The child, a young elezen, whips to look at her, eyes wide and red from crying. He needs comfort but there’s no time. “Run, I said! You must leave! Hide!”

But the child hesitates and, taking advantage of the opportunity, the beast lunges.

It is like time has slowed. Saoirse has no time, yet an eternity to react. Her instinct fuels her, she knows what will happen and what must be done to protect the innocent. And so she does.

First, she reaches to her waist and yanks her knife from its holster. In desperation, she throws. It’s unpracticed but effective. The blade does little damage but it successfully pulls attention to her. Another roar, deafening. Her heart pounds.

Deep breaths.

Again, she knocks an arrow, watching as this time the beast bounds straight for her.

Feel…

Wait. Patience. She must have patience. Darkness incarnate races towards her; its fists pound into the ground impatient to instead impact with her flesh.

Think…

It’s close now. She can smell its rancid, foul odor. Its bitter, much like its heart must be. Just a bit more. Her arm aches from holding her position but then finally—finally—it is time.

Exhale. A silent prayer. Release.

The arrow flies true, leaving an otherworldly trail of light in its wake until it strikes the fiend in the eye, driving in deeply. It takes her a moment to register the scent of ozone that lingers but then she realizes—aether. Her suspicions are confirmed when the arrow bursts felling the beast, its shriek of pain stopping in an instant. The world falls silent with it, all is still except for the heaving of her chest as she processes what just happened.

Then there’s the sound of something falling to the crystalline ground, delicately tinkling until it settles. Verdant eyes search until she spies what caused it. There, just ahead, near the body of the beast lies a crystal. It is completely different from that which makes up Mor Dhona. It is not simply a piece broken from the star, left to crumble but instead a seemingly crafted vessel of sorts. It glows gently.

She chews her lip in thought as she approaches, worrying it between her teeth. Saoirse is unsure what to make of it but it seems to call to her. Words echo, deafening yet silent. It speaks to her directly to her mind.

Hesitantly she reaches out and as her fingers touch its smooth, strangely warm surface, her vision goes black.

[lcstkey]

Eighth Umbral Calamity - Mooncry Photoshop, alcohol markers, colored pencil and this neat black pen

Selena Wolfsong initially survived the Eighth Umbral Calamity that was brought about by the Black Rose, the deadly gas used by Garlean Empire, and the resulting chaos afterward.

In a bid to protect Mor Dhona and what little she has left, the keybearer became overly dependent on her own powers of darkness, and abused them to the point where it took a physical toll on her. The darkness' corruption shifted her raven-black hair and silver eyes to white and golden amber. This shift would be complete before she turned twenty summers.

Many years later, on the one last "adventure" for a promising lead that could help the other survivors, the keybearer is eventually killed by one who she mistakenly trusted as a "friend" who wanted the keyblade's power for themselves on an isolated shore of Silvertear Lake, her body never to be found. Selena would never be buried and that "friend" failed to obtain the Heartsickness keyblade, having dragged and drowned them into the cold waters of the lake with it.

Selena is survived by a son who would grow up become an adventurer inspired by the stories of the Warrior of Light she had told him at bedtime. He eventually lends his support to the Garlond Ironworks. He would then tell those stories to his children and so on.

Unknown to everyone else, Selena's soul and aether became entangled with the keyblade that rested underneath the lake's waters. Her ghost became the inspiration to the Key of Silvertear fairy tale, only showing up when shadows are about. Throughout the years, there have been only several sightings.

[sasseebeee]

THIS CATBOY'S BREAKING MY HEART :((((

[bi-disastersoup]

Chapter 2: Allagan Eyes just went live today! Very brief preview under the cut.

In the distant past, a shadowy entity monitors the resulting panic on Norvrandt after the Flood of Light. In the future, G'raha sets eyes on a post-apocalyptic Mor Dhona for the first time, while starting to piece together what caused such devastation.

The bright sun beat down mercilessly upon the sandy waste, touching the red rock outcroppings with fire and leeching the color and vitality out of everything else.  Waves upon waves of liquid sand rolled out across the landscape as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by mountain ranges of bare rock and the occasional tower made of sandstone blocks.

The sun was appallingly bright.  But even more so was the crystalline wall that could just barely be made out over the ridge to the south of the little outpost.  At least, it had once been a little outpost.  By all accounts, it was probably the largest settlement left for malms around, now.  The people were having some difficulty coming to terms with that fact, it would seem.

It might have been amusing, he pondered, to watch the populace scatter away from their enormous city, splitting against the mountain range like a waterfall hitting a rock in its path and pouring down each respective valley in a rush.  As it were, the fleeing refugees were now pooling in this outpost, filling up every nook and cranny with their numbers as they sorted through their predicament and decided where to flow to next.  It made little difference to him where they went.  Soon they would run out of places to hide.  It didn’t matter that they’d escaped for now...

It has arrived! "Our Unbroken Thread" Prologue and Chapter 1 are live!

This project has been my baby for 3 years, and I'm really excited to finally be picking it back up again and finishing it. Link below, and a quick preview under the cut.

Our Unbroken Thread

“Bugger this thing,” Biggs muttered under his breath, sliding the left-most dial on the device almost imperceptibly counterclockwise.  Even with the near nonexistent adjustment, the readout on the small center screen fluctuated drastically.

Soren glanced briefly over at his companion before returning his gaze to the mammoth golden gates towering over them, his beefy arms crossed over his chest.  “Mind the particle differentials,” he admonished quietly, the stoic expression on his ashen pale skin never so much as twitching.

“Aye,” the equally pale Roegadyn acknowledged, making another miniscule adjustment to the other dials on the device.  The readout screen flickered and flashed, lines of frequency and other measurements bending and twisting in response to every tiny movement of the dials.  There was a fainter set of lines in an alternating color, and with each small adjustment, the fluctuating lines came closer and closer to lining up with their still and silent counterparts.

The device had been long and difficult in the making.  Not only had it already been a monumental undertaking to create a device that could mimic and emit an arcane signal, but finding and fine-tuning the precise signal needed to make the gates of the Crystal Tower respond had been nigh impossible.  It had only been by an incredible stroke of luck — and the tremendous help of a gifted bio-arcanist that had lent her help — that the device had even come into being.  And then, only after decades of slow-moving development.  The chaotic state of the world at large made for extremely slow progress in any sort of scientific or technological endeavor, and this was decidedly both.

Even considering all of that, there was no sure guarantee that the device would even work in the end.  They’d tested it in a number of controlled experiments, but this was the first attempt to actually open the gate itself.  To say that Biggs was anxious would certainly be an understatement.  Presently, he held his breath as he made one final adjustment to the arcane frequency, the wavering lines finally coming to rest precisely on the outlined target.  The emitter gave a gentle chirp to indicate that the desired signal had been achieved.  Biggs blinked twice, but dared not release his sigh of relief just yet.

The Au Ra turned his dark eyes to the device, then to meet Biggs’ hopeful gaze.  “Well, that’s one step done,” he breathed, his arms unfolding to rest anxiously on his hips as he returned his attention to the towering doors.  The intricate carving across the metal facade seemed like a symbol of foreboding, or warning — a man and a woman holding their hands out toward the viewer, barring the way.  The eerie shadows cast by the faint glow of the crystalline substance threaded throughout the cavern gave a forbidding air to the passageway.

The two Ironworks scholars stood as still as stone before the gate, breath held in anticipation, as the hefty device whirred and chirped quietly for a few minutes.  It appeared at first that they were entirely out of luck.  But then, so slowly it was barely noticeable, the glow of the crystal in the dim cavern began to brighten ever so slightly.  The growing brightness was beginning to resemble the activation of some tired old machine before either of the two scholars noticed it.  Biggs glanced around nervously, but held the device as steady in his hands as he could manage.

“Is it…” Soren began, swallowing the shake in his voice before continuing.  “Is it… waking up?”

[tenuuchlegch]

Finished the Pathless and I can safely say -smacks game case- THIS is peak Odtsetseg core right here.

[dancingwillows]

(snippet) beneath dark arches—

Marya thought of the little Ala Mhigan girls who'd made daisy crowns for her, their cheeks dimpling impishly as they made one ridiculous request after the other before their mother found them and dragged them away, profusely apologizing for their enthusiasm. The grizzled Hyur man at a pier who had given her coin while sporting a good-natured grin when she'd stubbornly decided to board a ship to Eorzea, newly-named and alone, now so long ago. She thought of the boundless kindness of strangers who'd buoyed her forward before the weight of all she carried could drown her in deep, dark waters. Their names she never knew, but she carried the memories with her, an endless array of candles she could light during moonless nights. In her heart of hearts, she knew she would die for them one day—it was but a matter of time. She would greet death not as a lamb blindly led to the slaughter, but as a woman who would do no less for the world and people she had come to love.

[tribaloflight]

((Tag drop while nobody is on/ Reference for people who don't play XIV. For players, they will be self explanatory in most cases. Tags are usually expansion names or related to expansions. For post expansion content, it will be the title of the first patch released post launch At least until the end of the patch cycle where it will likely shift to the end patch. Only exception is 1.0 (although I doubt it will get any use) which is based off the album title

before meteor- 1.0

A Realm Reborn- 2.0

Before the Fall - (Post ARR)

Heavensward- 3.0

The Far Edge of Fate - (Post HW)

Stormblood - 4.0

A requiem for Heroes (Post SB)

Shadowbringer - (shadowbringers)

Death Unto Dawn - (Post ShB)

Endwalker - (6.0)

Newfound Adventure (Post EW)

Dawntrail - (7.0 after it is released)

Journey to Eos (XV)

Arrival in Valisthea (XVI)

tales of loss fire and faith (headcanons)

warrior of crack (crack)

questions of a warrior (memes)

Azem's musings (OOC)

Edit: forgot a few special ones:

Dragonsong's reprise (A special AU built on the alternate timeline from the Ultimate raid of the same name where Haurchefaunt was saved at the Vault from being killed, and the series of events that led to the fight against Dragon King Thordan)

Unwritten Future (The unwritten future of the Eighth umbral calamity where Etherys has had societal collapse due to Black Rose being released by the Garlean empire and Rasada works with the remains of the Garlond Ironworks to find a solution to reverse the course of history.)

))

[voidsentprinces]

Ishikawa is just a crack genius writer, she used Meteion to not only tie off the storyline of Hydaelyn/Zodiark Arc Arc Arc. But also to tie off the Syrcus Tower Questline. If you remember the Students of Baldesion were trying to enter the Tower to begin with but didn't have the resources to really get in it. Until we came along and could fetch it easily for us. But who sent us over? Nero. And why did Nero send us over? Cause he kept getting this strange morse code from the Syrcus Tower that was trying to get in contact with him.

Now...the Syrcus Tower has us meet with Cid and G'raha. G'raha eventually is sealed into the Syrcus Tower to make sure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. In another time line, the Eighth Umbral Calamity occurs. Cid and his descendents invent time travel by inventing a Faux Alexander. G'raha goes to the past and ends up in the First. We save the First from the Umbral Calamity and then go back to the Source with G'raha in tow.

Later during Endwalker, we use that same Syrcus Tower with the aid of Elidibus's fading spectre to go to Elpis, meet Meteion and Hermes and kick start the entire series in motion.

Okay, Void fine, we all played Endwalker we all know this. What does this have to do with Ishikawa being a crack genius writer?

Well...Nero was following a morse code coming from the Tower.

And what is a phrase Meteion and her sisters repeat after finding that most the universe is suffering or dead?

[jewish-anime]

Portrait of the Lord and Lady Greystone, c. 7th Astral Era, Ishgard. Artist unknown.

One of few surviving portraits from this era, and the only portrait of the Warrior of Light painted during her lifetime. It is believed that the Greystones sat for this painting sometime after their victory against Dragon-King Thordan, though records of the Eighth Umbral Calamity beginning shortly afterward cast doubts on the veracity of this claim.

____

i drew this like a year ago around when the seigneur outfit came out and only just now got around to coloring it lmao....... (the caption is a reference to my fic the paths not walked, wherein DSR is canon in the doomed timeline that the exarch came from)

[lightparty-fullparty]

Can't possibly be me Zenosposting again - what is this a day ending in Y?

Anyway, I've been thinking about the murder boy again. This has mostly spawned from my replaying of the Stormblood patches and seeing Amnesiac Yotsuyu, which sparked a bit of a Nature vs Nuture debate between me and my friends.

Basically, my question for this post is "How much of Zenos' whole deal is Nature (aka He was just born like that) and how much of it is Nuture (aka the enviornment he grew up). Some of you might content to say Nature and leave it at that, which is a completely valid outlook to have. But for me there's just one... teeny... tiny... little detail that has sent me on a wild consipriacy theory of a ride that's resulted in this post. Emet-FUCKING-Selch.

Listen to me, listen okay? I cannot, CANNOT ignore the fact that this absoulete motherfucker (affectionate) is Zenos's cannonical Great Grandfather. Who was very much alive and kicking during his childhood. Emet-Selch or Solus zos Galvus whatever moniker you wanna give the man, is an Ascian. One of THE Ascians. Not only that, he's 'The Architect" the guy who's job it is to design and engineer the calamities meant to rejoin the Shards of the World back together again. What does he do to achieve this? He builds empires, he starts wars, manipulates people and situations to result in untold elemental chaos. Iirc correctly he's responsible for causing all eight calamities that have occured so far in FFXIV. (Eight got undone but I'm still counting it).

Now for this post I'm going to be focusing mainly on the Seventh, Eighth, and Fourth Umbral Calamities. (Which are the ones coincidentally we're told the most about in game). This Calamities all involved Empires. The Allagan and the Garlean, both of which Emet-Selch was responsible for creating. From the Allagans we have the creation of Dalamud, Cyrus Tower, and the Ultima Weapon. As well as an extensive history of biological research. Cloning, Gene Splicing, Mutation and so on. (A sundered mortal's attempts at creation magjicks perhaps?) The Garleans too, have a notible history of biological research, they draw a lot of their modern technology from Allagan design. No coincidence there given Emet-Selch's involvement. But we've seen them use genetic mutation, cyber augmentation, and cloning (Emet-Selch's shadow the hedgehog ass clone bodies because he refuses to look like anyone other than his unsundered self). The also so a lot of research into the Echo. Hydalyn's mark for her champions, and soul maipulation. (Ala Mihgo Dungeon and In From the Cold Duty both points of note for examples of the Soul being manipulated here - physically torn out of the body).

"Now Gengar " - I hear you ask - "What does this have to do with Nature vs Nuture or Zenos?" Well, I tell you, everything really. Hear me out. Emet-Selch designed the Garlean Empire to be the perfect chaos causing conquest force. They have no ability to use either, making them initially vulnerable as a people to the rest of the races. Building up a tasty, tasty resentment and need to feel superior. He sent them marching to 'reclaim their home' and then to 'unify the three contents under their superior peaceful, organised leadership'. The 'Savage Races' summon evil primals and weild evil distructive magjiks. He gave them a perfect cause and reason to hate everyone else. He gave them magitech to level the field and make them supieror at combat. Garlemald as a nation is the perfect war machine. Allagan 2.0 if you would. And Zenos is the perfect 'Champion' to lead that nation into battle. To spark that next Calamity. Look at the guy. Garleans might be on the taller side (depending on the character. Cid is a shorty), but Varis and Zenos are HUGE. Emet-Selch isn't nearly as tall as either of them despite being a blood relation. Which makes me think there was some of that Allagan/Garlean/Ancient playing with genetics and form at work. Make them bigger, more durable, stronger, more intelligent.

It's like Captian America. You want the perfect solider. And a perfect solider for Emet-Selch would also need to be cold, ruthless, manipulative.

There was a post I saw a while again about Mecha Pilots. And OP pondered on the idea of physcially having your brain and body contiditoned to love battle. To love destruction and killing and fighting.

Do you see where I am going with this?

You want someone bloodthirsty enough to cause a Calamity for you, you need them to feel nothing for their fellow man. (Insects all of them. Disappointing. Found Wanting.) You need them to find such overwhelming joy in battle that no other earthely pleasure can compare to it. (Brilliant. Blinding. Trandsenant Moment.)

No attatchments. No emotions, Just violence. I offer to you dear readers, that Emet-Selch carefully modified Zenos' litterally brain chemistry. Making him predisposed to a lack of empathy and his brain releasing those pesky joyous chemicals during battle. Inflicitng and feeling pain. I offer the theory that Zenos has literally been built for combat. If you cut him open, his bones and muscles and organs would be so alienly perfect. Denser, perfectly optimised. Exceedingly perfect. His brain remapped for pattern recognistion and quick skill building, Easy to train in the art of slaughter and tactics. Unable to forge the emotional connections that would only serve to hinder him. (To isolate him from family).

What evidence to I have? Outside of Emet-Selch's known history of building Empires? Easy. I already know he's done this kind of thing before.

Vauthry. The baby Emet-Selch mutated into half a Lightwarden. Able to command the Sin Eaters and ensured would be raised into a tyranically, childish, king. To keep the First from Uniting. To ensure the Eighth Umbral Calamity would continue along it's march to completion.

Why wouldn't Emet-Selch have done as much to Zenos too?

[wundergeek]

From my currently 15K WIP in which I am Very Normal About Wanting To Fuck Self-Esteem Into G'raha Tia

---

"What's on your mind?" I asked mildly.

"I... was wondering about what you said last night..."

"Care to be more specific?" I asked after a long moment of silence.

G'raha turned red and looked at his hands. "About what... what you think of me," he stammered.

I smiled and said nothing.

"How... why... do you think that? About me?"

I paused in my chopping to give him an incredulous look. "Raha, have you seen yourself? There's a reason you've never had any problems finding 'study partners'."

"Not that," he shot back, dismissing the compliment with an irritated wave of his hand. "I know I'm good-looking. I meant... the other stuff."

I just barely managed to refrain from calling him an idiot. As dense as he could be sometimes (including right now) - he did appear to be genuinely confused. "Any particular part of it that you're having trouble with?"

G'raha's turned nearly the same color as his hair. "You said I was... fascinating. But..." He squirmed and looked down at his hands. "I'm just... a nerd."

"A nerd who knows more about the Allagans than all of the Allagan researchers for the last thousand years combined," I countered sharply.

"Only because I have the Eye of Allagan - which didn't have anything to do with me," he protested. "It was a genetic lottery win."

I gave him sour look to let him know what I thought of that argument, but let it slide. "Alright then. A nerd who is extremely accomplished, even by the standards of my very long-lived people."

G'raha's ears flattened with dismay. "I can't take credit for any of that! Most of what happened on the First was your doing, and the rest... I was just playing out my part in a plan that took dozens of researchers almost two centuries to perfect. They mapped out the path and set me on it, all I did was walk it."

"Raha," I said with loving exasperation as my determination not to insult him went out the window. "My dear, sweet buffoon. I would hold your face gently while I say this if my hands weren't completely covered in onion, but... The 'path' they set before you was literally insane."

G'raha blinked at me in bafflement.

"Seriously. Try and step outside yourself for a moment and look at it from my perspective. You went to sleep to safeguard the Tower's secrets, never expecting that a bunch of scholars would break in two hundred years after the literal end of the world to task you with crossing time and space to travel to another Shard and undo everything that had happened since the Eighth Umbral Calamity - a task which would require you to forsake part of your humanity by merging your essence with the Tower. Any way you look at it, it's completely mad."

"But..."

"Furthermore," I continued, my voice steely. "No one forced you to 'play your part' in this grand plan - you could have said no."

"You know I couldn't have refused!" G'raha exclaimed, tail lashing as he narrowed his eyes in hurt confusion. "How could I, when I knew what hung in the balance? Knowing that I was the only person who could avert the Calamity, and thus save thousands, maybe millions of lives?"

"I didn't say it was a good choice. But it was a choice. And let's not forget," I pinned G'raha with a sharp stare. "You weren't even given a detailed plan! It was more the shape of a plan that you had to fill in by yourself. By your own account, it took decades to figure out how to summon me to the First, which you had to do while shepherding the community that grew up around the tower."

"I..." G'raha was too intelligent not to see the trap he was walking into, but doggedly persisted anyway. "I couldn't just leave them to get turned into sin eaters right on my doorstep. That would have taken more time away from my research."

"You didn't have to let them build their settlement around the tower itself, though." I countered. "Nor did you have to become their leader and protector. But you did, because it's what you do. You leave people better than you found them."

"This... you're changing the subject," G'raha complained, not meeting my gaze.

"Maybe a little," I admitted. "But only because it makes me crazy how little credit you give yourself for everything you've achieved, or for how much you had to go through in order to achieve it. Those researchers could never have hoped to comprehend the magnitude of the sacrifice you had to make! By the time I showed up in the First, you had so much love in your life. You loved and were beloved by a community of people whose lives you had shared for three generations. You had a daughter, who you raised to be strong, and good, and tirelessly excellent at what she does. You had everything to lose, and still you didn't hesitate to lay down your life when the time came."

There was so much more I wanted to say, but G'raha was all but bent in half under the weight of so much positivity, his shoulders shaking with barely-contained emotion, which made me afraid that I'd said too much already. "It's what you would have done," he choked out.

My heart twisted in my chest as I hurried around to the other side of the table to pull him into a crushing hug. "You are worth so much more than how much you're willing to sacrifice for others," I said fiercely. "And... Gods, Raha. I wish I could show you what I see, because you're the best of us."

G'raha shuddered and pushed his face into my shoulder. "Y-you can't possibly think that."

"I do," I shot back, my words sharper than my touch as I gently stroked his back. "So deal with it."

Finally, he seemed to have run out of arguments. So I held him as he cried, and again that big dangerous something reared its ugly head, too damn obvious to avoid putting a name to.

Love. I loved G'raha. And I knew in that moment I always would love him, just as I loved Alisaie.

I wanted so badly to say it, to give G'raha something he could hold onto when his self-doubt made believing in himself impossible, but doubt held me back. I couldn't tell G'raha I loved him without saying the same to Alisaie, and I didn't have the faintest clue of how she'd feel about the level of implied commitment that would bring.

Unfortunately, I dithered too long, and the moment was lost when G'raha pulled away and wiped his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "No one has ever understood me so well as you. Indeed, I think you understand me better than I understand myself."

"We always see others more clearly than we see ourselves," I pointed out, giving him one last squeeze before I let go. "And lest you worry about living up to my standard, I'll tell you right now that there's no sign saying 'you must be this heroic to ride the Warrior of Light's dick'."

The joke had the desired effect as G'raha involuntarily snorted with laughter. "You can be a real ass sometimes," he said, his eyes sparkling with something much closer to his usual good humor.

"What can I say? Alisaie's a bad influence."

Read from the beginning on AO3

[chiclet-go-boom]

look. guys. gals. non-binary pals.

shadowbringers spoilers

Emet-Selch was winning. By all metrics, right until the Unsundered tripped over our Warrior of Light and it all started unravelling like a loosely knitted cardigan, the Convocation of Three was at the crest and just starting the downhill slide to utter victory.

Hydaelyn was leaking the last of her strength like a punctured balloon. Midgardsormr had to cut us off from the teat for awhile as our drain could easily have been the end of the Mother - if it turned out we weren't the right Chosen One and she had to somehow struggle on just that little bit further, she had almost nothing left in reserve.

The Eighth Umbral Calamity was being held back by a thread. Nearly all of the First was lost, Light was starting to pour through the cracks into the Source and Black Rose was right there to receive and amplify it as the perfect confluence of events, oh so carefully set up by our darling empire-builder.

We've all got our opinions about why Emet-Selch engineered his own defeat, but please don't say its because he was desperate and losing. He wasn't. They weren't. He could have simply stepped back for a nap for a hundred more years and returned to pick it all back up again with nary a blink of his golden eye, reset the pieces and played again. And again. And again, for as long as necessary. The fact that he didn't is the most interesting thing out of all of it because he objectively had the higher ground and could so easily have kept it - and chose not to.

Hydaelyn would have been swept away, if they'd managed just one more Ardor. Just one more, that's all they needed, they were so close.

____

yes, i read another post about how emet-selch knew he was on the ropes and was grateful to be stopped before "it went too far". blech. ack. noooooo. so wrong.

[lcstkey]

"The Musician" 14th Melody [Cover] - AmaLee and Andy Stein

[karoiseka]

9) Lend an Ear

((Some 5.2 timeframe introspection!))

The white crystal, topped with gold, now sported a blood red base.  Its creation had taken more time than G’raha would have liked, but the first of six was now laying before him.

Six, he said in his mind, as if he could take it for granted that Karo could, and would, just whisk his soul and memories back to the Source with all the rest and it would be happily ever after.  That type of thing happened in the tales he read–not to him.  Or so he would have chastised himself even just a year prior.  Ever since she had arrived on the First, Karo had him believing as he once did in his youth.  That magic could do more, that faith and prayers could be answered, and good would triumph over the evils of the world.

He needed to ground himself.

He needed to make plans.  The Ocular door shut behind him as he wandered down the long staircase in the center of the Tower, not bothering to teleport since he needed to think.  The other five crystals would take time to imbue with his blood, making the transfer successful–or so he hoped.  That could not be done in bulk, no matter how quickly he wanted to try.  The crystal creeping down his left arm was a testament of that fact, and Karo was going to notice sooner or later.

He had to tell someone his plan though–even if the details were still a bit blurry in his mind.  Nodding absently at the door guard, his ears flickered at the feeling of the wind against them again after being hidden under his cowl for so long.  The main concern he had with his plan at the time was the fact that instead of just being an incorporeal soul with memories, he had the frustrating issue of having a body on both sides of the rift.  This created the issue of if he wanted to attempt at least a visit the way the Scions had the First, and then returning to his Crystal cage, or moving into his old body.  That of course left the crisis of if he would be replacing his old self or merging–and in either case whether it meant he’d be able to return to the First at all.

His tail lashed under his robe as he wandered through the city.  The last option was the option he wasn’t sure if he could go through with.  Which was allowing the Crystal Tower to fully take his body here on the First, entrusting that whatever happened with the merge or takeover on the Source with his soul, something would turn out.  Even if it was nothing more than Karo waking his old self up with no memory of the First–or what happened after the Eighth Umbral Calamity.  In essence all his current memories and self dying. 

He had loved her before retreating into the Tower the first time, that he could acknowledge finally.  It has boarded on more akin to hero worship, tinged with star-struck friendship, but rooted in deep respect and awe at the woman behind the label. Would she be content to attempt to continue their relationship? Or fall back in the friendship with the painfully young man he was at that time, returning to Thancred alone?

Thancred. That's who he could–and needed to talk to. He would be the perfect person to discuss what plans needed to be made–mostly as he was going to be planning his own departure with Ryne and now Gaia.  Pausing for a moment, G’raha leaves against the gaping doorway leading to the markets, sinking himself into the Tower and city.  Flashes of aether and personalities flower by until he found his quarry, down in the Cabinet of Curiosity with Ryne.  Good.  They would be easy enough to find there, Gaia lurking nearby a quiet shadow pretending still not to care. 

Still taking the time to walk rather than expend extra energy with teleports, it still did not take long to reach the library, and find his target.  Leaving Ryne in Moren’s expert hands, the two gentlemen made their way back out of the lower levels, and G’raha quietly led them out the main gates across the chasm.  Not far, but just to the Exarch Gate, climbing to the top of one of the lookout posts, they stood, keeping watch, and talking deeply.  Thancred thankfully seemed just as in need of an open ear, and they found themselves in deep discussion until after the sun started to set.  Realizing the time, they wandered back to the Crystarium, but continued to talk late into the evening, spending time at the Wandering Stairs sharing a meal, yet happier to be spending time with a friend.

[autumnslance]

Hi! I’ve been reading some of your content for a while, but I’ve only just now created an account. I’d love to know how Aeryn feels about the Eighth umbral calamity timeline- specifically, does their sacrifice weigh on her, and in what way? Does she think of it as some grand achievement of the human will, or does she have another perspective on it?

Hello, welcome to the madness that is Tumblr; it's too late now, you're here like the rest of us. 😉 And thank you for reading and being interested in my girl! 💖

I think the 8th Umbral timeline does weigh on Aeryn, because it's everything she dislikes about being the Warrior of Light--and particularly as she still struggled with her own imposter syndrome and thinking she had been her brother's (or Azem's) "replacement", not a hero in her own right. The world has suffered Calamity and loss, and struggled to bring itself back so many times before; what made the 8th so different, what made her, out of all of Hydaelyn's champions through time, so much more special?

Was there really no other hope left? Or did they just not want to look for it?

On the one hand, she knows the Ironworks team, and can imagine they needed something to keep themselves going in the immediate aftermath, and their adventures together through the Tower, Alexander, and Omega certainly offered fantastical possibilities. But that that mission should be passed on and adhered to by their children and successors, for decades, centuries, after?

She's not that unique. Not that special. And surely the reincarnation cycle itself was not disrupted; surely her soul, her friends, other champions, were reborn, could be born, and grow into the heroes that world needed.

But they risked the idea of erasure, over continuing to live in that world. On the vague hope they might fix it...by never letting it happen, by never letting themselves happen. She finds that horribly sad.

She hopes they continued on (we players know through the Lodestone stories that they did, but the Scions don't have that luxury). She hopes that, in light of their monumental accomplishment, they looked around and realized they were their own hope, that they had gathered the skills, knowledge, and resources to achieve such greatness--and could then pull their world back from disaster themselves. That they didn't need a long dead legendary hero to do it for them. That together, they were their own heroes.

She doesn't think of it often, or tries not to, and that's gotten easier with time. But when she does on occasion, that's the final thought that gives her some peace of mind; that in trying to save her and the Scions, they really saved themselves and ushered in their own Astral Era.

[tritoch]

grinding out the "the seventh dawn" title (because look at it. It's so fucking canon) and it's honestly a pretty crazy title when you think about it. initially when Endwalker dropped I was bummed it's not "OF the Seventh Dawn". After all, you're a Scion like any other, it only seems appropriate for the title to denote that.

but the seventh dawn refers to the fact that in the wake of the Seventh Umbral Calamity (Dalamud falling to earth at Carteneau and Bahamut emerging), the Seventh Era has begun. Eorzea's eras are somewhat confusingly divided into Umbral and Astral eras. In practice, these are just in-setting terms reflecting that, due to each Calamity destroying a bunch of stuff and setting society back, Eorzea tends to go through a dark age for a period after each Calamity, which eventually leads to a more stable era, which is then interrupted by another Calamity.

The interval between 1.0 and ARR is the Seventh Umbral Era, that dark age of the city states scrambling to survive after the Calamity. The Seventh Astral Era begins after the Warrior of Light defeats the Ultima Weapon and Lahabrea, preventing the Eighth Calamity and ushering in a new age of renewed unity and prosperity among the peoples of Eorzea. Additionally, since the Zodiark saga ended in Endwalker, it is likely there will be no further Calamities. Barring any joint decisions to change the calendar, the Seventh Astral Era is conceivably the final era of the Eorzean calendar, and hopefully marks freedom from the recurring apocalypses that have plagued the setting.

That is to say, the Warrior of Light, in striking down Lahabrea, precipitated the Seventh Astral Era, an era of unprecedented peace, prosperity, and stability. In a very real sense, you are The Seventh Dawn.