#She can travel Etheirys and see it all - for her

[charulein]

I still can't believe that falling in love with Venat was what finally helped Stubborn accept that Minfilia is... Gone. That no matter what she does, she can't bring her back... Just like how no matter what she does in Elpis, Venat will become Hydaelin, the past must happen for there to be a future,,,

[tritoch]

one thing i like to do when i'm feeling too unbothered and chill and normal is read venat discourse on twitter. makes me insane every single time it comes up. "she placed herself as a god above the ancients and judged that they had no right to live" "she was taking the only path available to her to stop meteion and defeat the final days because it needed to be a race that could handle dynamis" wrong wrong wrong! learn to read!

venat was stopping a planned mass sacrifice of non-ancient life by the only means available to her. that is the primary motivation for the sundering. shadowbringers says this to you, very very clearly. hythlodaeus in "a greater purpose," 5.0 (this is when you're chilling at the DMV together):

The Convocation of Fourteen─well, it was Thirteen at the time─endeavored to create a will for our star. They would repair the fundamental laws of order and halt the spread of destruction. But creation on such a scale required an immense source of power... Of those of us who still lived, nearly half offered up their lives in the name of salvation. And from their sacrifice, Zodiark was born. Just as we had hoped, He reached forth and halted the march of oblivion. ...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow. Once more did our people give of themselves to Zodiark. Another half of our race sacrificed to cleanse the world; to ensure that trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives would sprout and grow and flourish. The cycle of life had begun anew, and we reconsidered the means by which we might protect it. The Convocation decided thus: we would nurture our world until it was bursting with vitality. Then, when the time was right, we would offer some portion of its living energy to Zodiark... In return, He would restore to us those brethren whose souls had fed His strength, and together we would resume our role as stewards. There were, however, those who disagreed with this plan. They argued that enough had been sacrificed to Zodiark─that this new world should belong to the lives newly born. These dissidents surrendered their life energies in the creation of Hydaelyn, an incarnation of their opposing belief. And for the first time in history, our people stood divided... Know you, then, how this conflict ended?

Hythlodaeus is very clear: Following the first 50% sacrifice to Zodiark, the land was dying and there had been a mass die-off. A second 50% sacrifice (so 25% of the pre-Zodiark Ancient population) resolved that, cleansing the world and restoring nature and non-Ancient life. Afterwards, the Convocation planned a third sacrifice: they would "nurture [the] world until it was bursting with vitality," the "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" he describes earlier, and then sacrifice some considerable amount of that life to restore the Ancients comprising Zodiark.

People pretend that there's a lot more ambiguity on this point than there is, but it's quite clear that when he says "myriad tiny lives," he is saying something that encompasses the modern peoples of Eorzea or their very near ancestors (it's only been about 12,000 years since the Sundering. For comparison early modern humans emerged about 300,000 years ago, and there's no suggestion I'm aware of that evolution even exists on Etheirys anyhow). There's a couple very strong pieces of evidence for this:

First, anything that exists on multiple shards must have existed pre-Sundering, since there's close to no multidimensional travel (barring Ascians and the Exarch). Thus, all the player races, which we know exist on each shard so far, as well as, say, the Amalj'aa, the Kobolds, the Sahagin, and the Qiqirn, all must have existed before the Sundering since we also see them on the First.

Second, the phrasing of "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" positions "lives" as a category that encompasses everything that isn't trees and grasses. We can surmise that when he describes the Hydaelyn faction standing for "lives newly born" he's again describing basically everything that isn't plants. this again includes the spoken races of the current game or their ancestors; they are a clear part of what was at stake in the sacrifice.

Third, if that doesn't persuade you that Hythlodaeus is talking about lives like yours, consider that you've just spent the last few quests exploring the city full of giant ancient magic people going "wow! you're so small and childlike! what a miniscule living being you are!" When Hythlodaeus gives this speech about "myriad tiny lives," he is a literal enormous giant sitting next to you, a very tiny living being from his perspective.

This sacrifice, which Hythlodaeus explains to you in the DMV, is the crux of the matter and the root of Venat's choice. The time loop, her knowledge of Meteion, the debate over the right solution to the final days—all of that is secondary. She explicitly is unsure up until you meet her in the Aitiascope whether the time loop is stable and real and applies to you.

The essential issue is the fact that the Ancients are supposed to be stewards of the star, and now they are going to engage in mass sacrifice of lives that Venat knows are people like her and her peers (mostly this is thanks to being a humanist who believes in the sanctity and dignity of life but she also has the confirmation of your post-sundering, totally humanlike existence). Just a quarter of the Ancients' original number remain, their society is in tatters, and what's left is in the process of actively betraying every ideal they ever claimed to hold by slaughtering the life they allegedly guide and care for (which they know to be ensouled!) to undo the great and noble sacrifice of their loved ones.

but venat's faction is weak. it's her and like 13 sorta-important people she knows plus maybe some unnamed others. they lack the numbers or the raw ability to make something that can defeat zodiark, and will need instead to lean on venat's abilities.

her morals do not allow her to stand by as the convocation plans a mass sacrifice of "lesser" life. her circumstances do not give her the time or ability to win them over through rhetoric or decisively defeat them with force. nor can she actually destroy zodiark, because then the final days would simply resume. nor, I assume, is she interested in straight up slaughtering what remains of the ancients until the convocation's plan becomes impractical, assuming she is even strong enough to do so with just the twelve and the watcher's ancient selves for backup. there is no longer an option on the table which does not involve great pain. left to choose between unacceptable options, she chooses the one route which seems able to protect the vitality of the world and uphold the ancients' mission of shepherding all life upon the star towards flourishing: the sundering.

[paintedscales]

FFXIV Write 2024 :: Day Thirty

Prompt: Two Heads Are Better Than One Characters: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Tandem Chorus, Manaka Shimizu Word Cont: 975 Notes: What If Scenario

Master List

Curled and tucked away within one of the hanging chairs, Nomin relished the warmth of the fireplace within the Starry Garden. While she was not quite fond of making the trip into Ishgard, she found herself quite reliant on one of the staff members that worked there: a Raen by the name of Manaka Shimizu.

As it so happened, Manaka was Echo-blessed, and that was quite the valuable trait when it concerned the rise of any primal threat that might have shown themselves. Thankfully, ever since the threat of despair and ruin became naught but a whisper on the wind, these worries were mostly quelled.

A shuffle was heard, but there was barely a trace of aether to pick up on. Lifting her head, Nomin tore her attention from the dancing flames to the person who had just arrived. A hyuran man who seemed just a bit fatigued, his hair was pulled back into a loose bun -- likely for working the venue. There was a familiar sort of air about him, and Nomin could only lift a brow in contemplation as she adjusted herself further.

The man looked over, a slight look of surprise on his face.

“Hey, sorry… I didn’t disturb you, did I?” the man asked.

Nomin shook her head in response, adjusting herself further so that her feet were back down on the ground. Observing the man further in the limited firelight, she asked, “You…wouldn’t happen to have a sister, would you?”

“Huh?” the man’s attention flicked from the fire back to Nomin. “I, uh… Yeah, but…she’s in Hingashi for work. Why?”

“... I thought so,” Nomin replied. Her expression warmed a bit. “Her name’s Primam, isn’t it? I worked with her for a bit.”

The man’s expression brightened. Nomin, just like with Primam, could not readily pick up on his emotions like she could with people native to Etheirys. His aether was like a trickle, if that.

“Y-Yeah, that’s her! How is she?” the man asked, taking a seat close by in one of the armchairs. His attention was focused on Nomin entirely, eager to learn.

“She seemed in good enough spirits last we talked. Excited about the job we did since it meant getting some extra notes and pieces for the museum she works at,” Nomin briefly explained. “Granted, she did also say she wished she had a bit of your strength on our trip -- though her use of magic is quite awe-inspiring.”

“Heh…yeah, she’s always been good at that,” the man responded. He then held out his hand to Nomin in greeting. “Tandem Chorus, by the way.”

Another Garlean sounding name. Was that just the norm where they came from?

Nomin held her own hand out, shaking his. “Pleasure. Nomin tal Kheeriin; you can just call me Nomin.”

“Nomin, huh? Nice name.”

“Thanks, I picked it myself.”

This elicited a chuckle out of Tandem. He loosely laced his fingers together, resting his arms in his lap as he leaned forward in casual fashion. “It’s really nice hearing that it seems like my sister’s doing well. It’s… Well, thank you. We don’t get to see each other much since we can’t really use the aethernet.”

Nomin’s brow twitched upward. She supposed she should have expected that. She and Primam never had to use aether travel since Hingashi and Shirogane were just ferry rides away from one another. But then…that seemed to imply that Tandem took a moon long journey into Othard if he even went to visit at all.

But…it seemed evident that whatever was going on with Primam and Tandem was not like what was going on with Thancred at all. Primam was still highly magically potent -- and she was expecting that Tandem was as well. Meanwhile, Thancred needed someone like Ryne or Y’shtola to charge his rounds for his gunblade since he could not do it himself.

“That’s rather strange,” Nomin commented. “I mean, your sister just seemed…so very magically-inclined, it didn’t seem like attuning to and using the aethernet would have been an obstacle.”

“Hah, you’re telling me…” Tandem replied. “Actually, I had half a mind to save up and head into Sharlayan to learn more about aether travel since one of my co-workers brought it up. It’s something that I think Prim would be more taken to, but she’s been learning about other things in Hingashi that I’d hate to pull her away from.”

Tandem leaned back with a sigh. “Still, two heads would be better than one on that front, and my sister’s been a lot smarter than me when it comes to the application of magic.”

“Well, it’s not my place, but…” Nomin started. “Your sister’s saved my hide more than once during our trip together… I can see about speaking with someone to make your trip to Sharlayan that much easier if and when you decide to commit to it.”

“Oh, no, I…” Tandem brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s really nice of you and all, Nomin… But…”

“Don’t be stupid and accept the offer,” came a sharp tone from above them. Manaka had been leaning against the railing up top, and was just now making her way downstairs. Her aether became much more apparent to Nomin as she descended. “It’s not every day you’d get an offer as good as that one. Especially from someone like her.”

“Hey, c’mon… I’ve been saving up to pay my own way,” Tandem refuted.

“And you’d be a fool to blow all those funds in travel and bunk costs with no way back, especially if you can’t secure funding. Sharlayan is an island nation, and you’ll be hard pressed to find work there that isn’t becoming a Gleaner,” Manaka shot back. “Unless you’re really good at swimming, I suggest you take an offer from the Warrior of Light herself.”

[hazelkjt]

🎈

If they could travel anywhere, where would they go?

for BOTH Hazels!!! (cuz theyre probably different answers?)

Both Hazels do have different specific places in mind but at their core they are still of the same mind: they want to travel to every corner of Etheirys eventually (and in the case of WoL!Hazel, even beyond the star). Reg!Hazel is currently living her biggest travel wish of all: Tural. Ever since hearing stories and seeing a world map with yet another continent besides Aldenard she's wanted to see what it has to offer. Now that's she's here she is currently taking in ever single sight and experience she can. As for the next place to go on her list, it's a tie between Thavnair and finding a way into the giant dome of lightning that appeared in Shaaloani. WoL!Hazel, having traveled much MUCH more than Reg!Hazel, has a lot more places checked off her travel list. While she would love nothing more than to explore the rest of the Thirteenth, she promised Zero she wouldn't go until the shard would no longer kill the Au Ra to exist in. As such, next up on Hazel's bucket list to visit would be Meracydia. She is aware of the hostility the people there have given the destruction wrought that rendered large swathes of the land uninhabitable. Nevertheless, Hazel's curiosity will always win out over her sense of safety.

----------

Emoji OC Asks!!

[improvised-finish]

Is your character particularly philosophical? Have they ever pondered the way of the world and their place in it, for better or worse? Are they happy with where they're at or do they aspire to change things? What thoughts keep them awake at night when they're trying to sleep?

"Philosophical? Don't know if I'd go that far, but sure, I've thought about the way things are in general and the way my life has gone. When your partners are both esteemed scholars it's kinda hard not to get around to talking about that kind of stuff eventually." She laughs, her pride in her partners showing through.

"Even before I was in a relationship, though, I'd spent time thinking about how I should use the overwhelmingly large amount of power that had been placed on my shoulders. I think I was such an ardent pacifist early in my journey almost as a reaction to it. It was a small way to resist that fate, I guess. A way to say that even if I was forced to become a weapon, I would not take lives indiscriminately." She looks down and to the side, trying to figure out how exactly to continue. "Unfortunately, I pretty quickly had to learn that pacifism can only go so far. I still believe in it, in the broad strokes. I aim to incapacitate if it can be helped, but being on the front lines against a foe who will not hesitate to take your life in the blink of an eye... hardens you, if that makes sense."

"But back to the question: my place in the world. It's never really the same for too long, I've found. I've been a weapon to be wielded, then a symbol for liberation, then a beacon of salvation, and now just a citizen of Eorzea. I think I'm happy with where I am now, but there were many points along the way where I had to figure out how to change, how to become myself. Fortunately I'm surrounded by partners and friends who've been there to help and support me as I do, and now I think I've found a 'me' that's comfortable, so to speak. Beyond the titles and all that, I just want to be known as someone who wants to help, and I think I've managed that."

"As for what keeps me up at night... Mostly irrational fears. Losing the people who mean so much to me. Not being able to be there to help when it's needed. Being too late to save anyone. Some of these were things that we confronted when we battled against Meteion's song of oblivion, but... I think there's still some small shred of worry inside me somewhere, even though we overcame it in the end. I don't know. I guess I fear being alone most of all. That isolation kept me from becoming who I truly wanted to be for so long, even though it was somewhat self-imposed, and now that the day has been won and we can simply enjoy each other's company, it hurts to know that someday will be the very last day I'll spend with my partners, with my mother, with Beau and the rest of the Scions." She pauses, tearing up a bit at the memories of those she was unable to save. "I'm sorry, I just... Loss has never been a stranger in my life for too long, and I... well I wonder what it would be like if those people had survived. If Ysayle and Haurchefant had lived to see what became of Ishgard, to see humans and dragons joined to save the star. If Moenbryda and Papalymo had lived to learn all of Etheirys' many secrets. If Conrad had lived to breathe the air of a free Ala Mhigo. If Tesleen had lived to gaze upon on the beauty of the night sky, stars twinkling overhead. I try to carry their memories with me as I travel, to give them bits of the world they might've liked to see themselves, but it does get to me sometimes. That the good fortune to survive through all hardship can be a sword that cuts both ways."

"That reminds me of a moment that I'm not exactly proud of, but... it's better if I talk about it, I think. As kind of an example. When I'd first gone to Garlemald proper with the relief effort, we'd gone to offer aid to the survivors in one of the train stations, and been taken hostage for our troubles. Jullus, the young man who'd been given the responsibility of making us useful, eventually opened up to me about how he'd come home from his military duties to find his entire family tempered, and how he'd been forced to take their lives to ensure his own survival. It was a chilling story, and the prospect of something like that happening while I was gone haunted me. The first moment after we were no longer held captive, I fled. I couldn't handle the idea of coming home to my mother and finding her under the thrall of the towers. I ran back to camp, grabbed as many warding scales as I could carry, and teleported all the way to Gridania. I didn't stop running until I was on my mother's doorstep. I was a proper mess; to say my emotions got the better of me was an understatement. After she'd managed to get me to let go of her and take some deep breaths, I implored her to take the scales and give them to everyone she knew. To always carry them. She agreed to do it, thank the Twelve, and explaining what had happened when I got back to Camp Broken Glass was... uncomfortable, to say the least, but I just... couldn't let it happen to her too. Maybe that's selfish, that I stole some away for my own ends, but I couldn't bear the thought of having to turn on my own kin like that. I'd endure a thousand more awkward lectures from Lucia if it meant I never had to worry again." She takes a heavy breath, as if she had just run a malm. "It's why I try not to stray too far from those I care about, if I can help it. Leaving home has always felt difficult, and I imagine that fear is probably part of why. And that's also probably why getting to return home to share gifts and stories is my favorite part of my travels. It feels like closing the circle, completing the loop. It feels like a chord finally resolving in a piece of music. It feels like... well, home."

[selphieetheiryss]

An excerpt from an Endwalker drabble.

What composure she had maintained throughout it all had begun to splinter and crack, and as her shoulders hunched over, a small sob escaped her lips, “Oh, Hades… she was so angry,” and a miserable smile rose to her face even as tears flooded down her cheeks and onto her lips, “As angry as you are - isn’t that funny? Furious, both of you. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine Io angry? But she was, she even yelled at me - she yelled at me, and I have never seen her so angry in my life. Both of you demanding explanations I cannot give, both of you bargaining for what I cannot offer. I knew you would be angry, but I thought she would accept it, like Hytholodaeus did - of course he did, because he and I are one and the same and he knew as I did when he came to me about offering himself up - neither one of us shall be swayed. But neither you nor Io could ever accept such a thing without a fight, could you? Both of you are so aggrieved by my actions, perhaps rightfully so, I cannot judge either of you. I suppose I would be too, if I were in your shoes.”

Though the tight knot of anger still held fast in his chest, he moved forward at last to envelop her in his arms, bringing her to sit on the bed so she would curl up against him. Rare was it that Azem would cry - even more rare was it to see Persephone cry. More often than not, when she did, they simply were tears of anger or frustration - but seeing her cry now out of profound sorrow had left him feeling dizzy and numb as he held her tightly against him. He had come here to confront her in a torrent of anger, feeling every sense of betrayal the moment he saw her - and now as he felt the wetness of her tears against him, he realized that no one could ever make her feel more guilt and anguish with herself than what she had already condemned herself to feel.

While she would stand up and wipe away the evidence so no other soul would know - though she would leave for her final thing travels with her customary beaming smile gracing her face, he knew that it was simply a lie to reassure those of Etheirys that feared the oncoming Final Days - their Azem would not cry, would not buckle under the pressure and succumb to despair.

He hated it.

He knew the feeling that arose in him was selfishness - crude greed that threatened to swallow him. While his work to stave off the destruction of their Star was genuine, while his love for Etheirys and her people was sincere, and none could sway him from the course he and the other members of the Convocation had set upon - holding Persephone in his arms now caused a selfish and ugly feeling that while they deserved the salvation that he and the others would bring - why did they deserve to be comforted by her? Why was it that she had to give herself unto the people, allow them to pile onto her all their grief and despair, all the while pretending foolishly that she had none of their own?

The thought terrified him suddenly - and he very nearly began to plead with her to change her mind, to bring Io with, if only so she had someone to rely on - so she would not become one of the abominations by allowing herself to be the lightning rod to which people could expel their grief and fear. But he knew she would tell him no, just as she told Io herself. And instead his anger grew again - Io had nothing keeping her here, she was not shackled as he was! How could she say she would protect Persephone, using him as a reason to justify it, only to so easily give in to her request?!

He of all people knew how stubborn Persephone was - this was true, but if she cared as much as Persephone insisted she did - why was she not here now? He had no choice but to stay, it was his duty to the Star, and he would show Persephone that it was also out of his love for her, that he pushed ever forward, even if she could not join him. He would hold his faith that the Convocation would save them all, and just like that day at the Bureau, she would come back to him, and their souls would sing. He could not join her, but he would do anything to ensure she had a home to return too.

And yet Io was content to lock herself yet again into the cage of a bird, to be covered with a sheet to allow herself the blind faith that things would turn out alright when it would be taken off - and it ignited in him blind hatred and fury that in these final hours, she allowed Persephone to wear her down.

‘I have never been alone,’ she had said tearfully - and suddenly he was frightened of what that loneliness would do to her.

His grip on her tightened as he began to place gentle kisses on the crown of her head, slowly moving her so her tear stained face looked at his - looking at her with one last hope, “Stay, just one more night- you do not need to leave right this second. Stay with me, please. Sephone, just one night, it is all I ask-”

“No,” her voice was soft, but firm as a hand moved to cradle his cheek before moving to carefully take his mask off, “Hades… you are only setting yourself up for a painful reminder in the morning. Giving yourself the hope that in the morning I will still be here, curled in bed next to you. But you will not - that hope will be robbed from you when you pull back the covers and find me gone. No… I do not wish to hurt you anymore than I already am.”

Cruelty sparked at his tongue when he spoke again, yellow eyes harsh and stony as he looked upon her, “Do not lie to yourself, Persephone. Is it that, or are you afraid your resolve will falter? That you will perhaps wake up and realize this is nothing more than another one of your fantastical whims?!”

[iamthespineofmybook]

I was reading a fanfic and it prompted me to come up with stuff for my FFXIV character.

Specifically, it was a chapter based on a Worst Nightmare situation in the source material, so I asked myself "what is Myriam Sangvitrail's greatest fear? After all, the Warrior of Light has fought so many insane things."

And then I settled on it: isolation. Not just being alone, she does solo stuff a lot. It's specifically being cut off from everyone. Unable to reach out and get a response.

The Walk to the End was the worst time of her life, only barely able to keep moving thanks to the prayers and memories of those depending on her back on Etheirys.

And then I extrapolated on this, and came up with this, from their POV:

"My first memory was of being alone, walking. Well, more like shambling. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know where I came from. I didn't even know who I was. All I knew was loneliness and pain from uncounted wounds.

"I eventually blacked out, and when I came to, I saw a beautiful, kind face keeping watch over me, the pain gone."

So, yeah. I have myself a character who craves travel and adventure, wants to see everything the worlds have to offer, and is absolutely terrified of having no one she can rely on.

[tishinada]

Just random thoughts about this:

(ENDWALKER SPOILERS)

Does anyone else have the urge to take Argos everywhere with you? After all, he was Venat’s familiar, and I have no doubt she gave him her love of travel and seeing new places, etc. And from what we saw of her in Elpis, I think it’s clear that she would have created familiars with souls (can’t remember if that’s exactly how they explained the difference in the two kinds of familiars, but Hades and Hyth do comment on the WoL being unusual that way, but not ooc for Azem, her former protege’.)

Argos may be the last living being who remembers Elpis and the world unsundered (the sundered Ascians have died repeatedly and have only fragments of memory at best.)** He’s lived through the same thousands of years that Hydaelyn did, seen the same tragedies and triumphs and horrors and beauty. (Though I suppose it’s possible he spent it on the moon with the Watcher. Still, loyal to her until the end.)

And in the end, when she’s gone and after thousands of years the threat of the Final Days has finally been averted, Argos comes to the WoL. Who he had a rather dim opinion of when he first met, apparently. But the WoL is a tie to Venat/Hydaelyn, and he chooses to become a companion to someone who has proved themselves and has the major part of Azem’s soul, clearly dear to Venat. And as that remnant of the Traveler, will presumably offer opportunities to see Etheirys in all its wonder and awe. Because he was made by Venat, and that’s what she loved above all.

Of course, it’s possible he still serves her, even in her “rest.” After all, the lurking shoebill is very likely one of Hades/Emet-Selch’s familiars and keeps watching you long after E-S’s death---including on the Source near the Waking Sands (or so I’m told.) Maybe that’s how he and Hythlodaeus were able to keep up with you. So maybe Argos is with you so Venat can follow the WoL into the uncertain future. But whether Argos is with you on his own or to act as eyes for Venat, I find myself taking him almost everywhere with me.

**I haven’t watched all the cutscenes for the post-Endwalker raids with the Twelve, though it sounds as if they’re probably surviving collaborators of Venat’s. But there’s one person who has existed since Hydaelyn defeated and confined Zodiark, the Watcher. And his words post-Endwalker make me a little teary-eyed:

Though, let’s be honest: soothing and gentle was only one side of her. The other side is the Venat who twice challenged you to prove yourself in combat with her, and you definitely get the impression that was a common occurrence with her and Azem, lol.

Also: does anyone else wonder what the watcher will do now that his watch over Zodiark is over? Did Hydaelyn give him a secondary purpose? The Loporrits, obviously, are being left to find their own purpose now, but has he?

[wine-dark-soup]

ooh can you talk a bit more about the story of eos growing alienated from steppe culture and eventually being exiled?

ANON ANON THANK YOU. I already wrote a short bit about it here. Honestly this is something that was clear in my mind rather early on, and it barely evolved since. BUT ANYWAY HERE'S THE FULL VERSION. YOU NEED THE FULL BACKSTORY. DISCLAIMER:

As you may have noticed, her full name (eos rhododaktulos) isn't xaela. There's a reason for this. And strangely enough it's NOT a negative thing originally, it's even rooted in respect. Let me explain.

Eos was born to unknown parents and left on the steppe's ground after a skirmish between her tribe and another - she miraculously survived the ordeal but was completely forgotten. Maybe her parents died that day. Maybe not. Who knows. Anyway. The Qestir pass by the ruined camp and see her. They take her in and go back to the Reunion camp.

Roughly at the same time, an outsider came to the steppe and stopped in Reunion. He says he is a student of baldesion (he's voluntarily left unnamed, but i strongly like to think it was galuf baldesion himself) and that he's come here driven by curiosity and want to learn how the xaela view life. The Xaela are rather secluded and rarely welcome strangers but the Qestir - neutral tribe - let him stay and he befriends them because he's very nice and respectful (especially towards their law of silence). One evening he's having dinner with the khan and expresses his curiosity about the wailing baby that he just saw joining the tribe, because a lot of people are currently tending to her. The khan's oronir guard explains that the baby was just found and needed care and a name. Which prompts the question: why do you cling to these false deities? how do you name a baby if you Do Not Talk, Like Ever? Silence and intense stares from the khan, of course, and the oronir guard says nothing either.

Then the khan seems to have an idea for a name - he points at the sky. Now, by this point, the student of baldesion was aware of the basics of xaela mythology. it's the evening, it's dusk, the night is coming, the night is nhaama's domain, she's the moon. the student theorizes: the baby probably can't be named after the goddess; maybe the khan is trying to say her name needs to honor nhaama? that it needs to evoke the sky, sun or moon? then he exclaims "ah! if her name can't be dusk, if it is too similar to nhaama, why not dawn? where i come from, we would say 'eos' for this. 'eos rhododaktulos', the rosy-fingered dawn." the khan nods with a smile. he seems very pleased. the baby's name is officially eos.

*

Time passes; the student leaves, eos grows up. She has a normal, joyful childhood, and follows the steppe's lifestyle, i.e learn to hunt, tend to cattle, to trade, to travel according to a semi-nomadic (i think the qestir are still nomads but only leave Reunion at some point during the year) lifestyle, etc. fastforward to her 23th year on Etheirys: she loves her tribe, she's a placid young woman, with a passion for coursing the steppe - or at least, not being confined to reunion. with others, she's often in charge of tending to the qestir's cattle while the others are busy trading, or to scout areas during the tribe's migrations.

A stranger shows himself in reunion. His outfit is similar to the one the student of baldesion was wearing two decades earlier, so he's welcomed warmly - the qestir old enough to remember their previous visitor from sharlayan think that his kind can be trusted. So, this guy's an elezen called Scéléraud Gardemaloi. He's come to the steppe with a team of gleaners. Something is off almost immediately: he's rude, hot and bad tempered, and doesn't care much for qestiri laws. The tribe decides to ignore those bad signs for now: people have bad days, bad temperaments, and who are they to judge, after all, the xaela ARE hot tempered and never say no to a good fight.

scéléraud presents himself as an "associate" of the students of baldesion and says he's here to conduct a field study of the steppe. He mostly wishes to learn more about azim and nhaama and thus would love to visit sites where they are worshipped/said to reside in. but for this, he needs a guide. the qestir choose eos for the role: she's young, capable, she knows the steppe's every corner, and, interestingly, always immediately understood the rare strangers that visited reunion when they talked (the echo...). even if she can't answer, it would still facilitate communication once they'd be on their own on the steppe. besides, she's a qestir: in case they'd meet a tribe more hostile to strangers, she'd use the qestir's neutrality to show the man is their guest and must not be harmed.

anyway. eos is thrilled. but once they're off, the trip quickly becomes a living hell. scéléraud is verbally abusive towards his gleaners and eos. She's supposed to take care of everyday tasks on top of guiding the group, but if she doesn't complete them fast enough (according to scéléraud standards), she gets yelled at and insulted. On top of that, the gleaners are acting weird - they seem to collect samples from the soil? but eos never catches them in the act. she knows something is wrong but can't bring herself to complain: the laws of hospitality prevails. Besides, she only ever heard good things about sharlayan - maybe scéléraud's attitude is normal or will pass?

spoilers: it doesn't pass. he makes no effort in trying to adapt to the local culture - mostly, everyday, he wishes he had access to "the last stand's finest dishes" and refuses to eat steppe food (dairy products, cream stew, sheep meat, hunted animals, foraged goods, etc.) before actually stealing it behind eos' back.

eos is completely at a loss; the only thing that apparently appeases scéléraud is to indulge him and listen to his scientific rambling - though if you don't listen "well enough", you get scorned. but it's still better to listen to him for 15 minutes before he decides you suck than hear him scream for two hours. anyway, the steppe tour goes on; scéléraud is visibly disappointed by everything he sees and blames it on eos, who, on the other hand, is always very happy to point every detail on every building or mountain or bush or water stream - before she is ordered to stop gesticulating like a savage, that is.

one morning, when she wakes up in her small scouting yurt, her clothes are just... gone, including her qestiri mask, as well as her small sword. she desperately looks around camp while still in her night clothes, ashamed. this is of course scéléraud's doing. he pretends to be sorry and supplies her with strange clothes and a weirdly shaped sword (a rapier, but she never saw one before). the clothes don't seem to be sharlayan. They are uncomfortable, too tight, not warm enough, the wind just hits eos' skin with the same strength it would was she naked. she doesn't get a new mask.

she has no choice but complete her tasks in this outfit and with the sword scéléraud gave her. but she feels strangely tired, or worse, sick, whenever she tries to use it. scéléraud is displeased and forces her to listen to "the story of the lost magic art of gyr abania", "lessons on white and black magic", and thus on the "history of eorzea".

[nota: she doesn't understand what it is at all, but it's of course red magic. scéléraud is using her as a test subject in his experiment - he's trying to recreate red magic ex nihilo, since by this point all the red mages are presumed dead. except he barely understands how it works himself and on top of that, makes eos use the rapier without a magical focus. rather, he tried to put a semblance of magical focus directly into the sword's handle, which. doesn't allow for proper aether balance, hence why eos feels sick when she draws the weapon.]

of course she's not enough of a good student - her scattered thoughts (because of the aether imbalance) probably don't help - and gets called name at any given opportunity, especially now that, even if she says nothing, her facial expressions are visible: her discomfort is plain for all to see, which scéléraud sees as a weakness. she is now convinced she should react, but doesn't dare, for fear of consequences. in any case after two weeks of this treatment she doesn't have it in her anymore: all she can think about is to finish the trip and go back to reunion and her sheep and never ever interact with this man again. she follows scéléraud's orders because it's more bearable than contradicting him. consequently she's less and less authorized to act "the steppe way" even to provide sustenance for the group - she has to hunt with a RAPIER [i told you this guy knew nothing about survival, swordsmanship and red magic], for example - because if she did, she would NOT be able to comprehend "the lost art".

the breaking point is their arrival at the house of the crooked coin. scéléraud is suddenly extatic, even forgets about eos and the gleaners. he runs towards the crystalline structure. eos, who is now convinced enough this guy is a bad guy, gathers enough strength of will to go after him: she is exhausted and broken, but her love for the steppe takes over, and she knows scéléraud is up to no good. he can do what he wants with her, but not with nhaama's physical tie to this world.

when she gets into the house of the crooked coin, scéléraud is speaking to himself, congratulating himself, and says out loud he found what he wanted.

[nota: eos never knew what it was that he wanted. was he working on reincarnation? on crystalline monuments that were not aetherytes? was it part of his research on red magic?]

he sees eos entering the cave. she looks at him with barely contained rage, grinding her teeth, and tears in her eyes. she points the rapier at him. she gives him a chance: stop what he's doing now and no one will hear about all this. of course, he ignores her, laughing with contempt. and out of nowhere starts using a pickaxe on the crystals.

eos is so shocked she freezes for a few seconds. everything she has endured flashes before her eyes - was it all for this? by trying to play nice - thus doing good actions according to qestiri customs - did she really allow him to commit a sacrilege? but this questioning is brief: she sees him hurt the very steppe itself, and she can't bear it.

she runs towards him, and to the last, he kept hitting the crystal, laughing at eos. here she commits the unthinkable: she speaks. One single word, but it's too late: an insult, one she learned from him. In an instant scéléraud is dead.

*

this post is getting too long so i'll try to make this part brief. eos is horrified: she killed someone in a fit of rage, and she broke the prime qestiri law, and to yell an insult on top of that. the gleaners' presence kinda forces her to focus again. they apologize, and all of them decide to visit the dotharl - who share a special bond with the house of the crooked coin - to explain the situation. the gleaners do the explaining while eos is sullen in a corner. she's definitely a strange sight, dressed in outsider's clothes, covered in blood. in short, the dotharl understand that the gleaners were forced to work for scéléraud, and let them go with the promise they'll give back the samples they gathered to the land. the dotharl also understand eos did try to stop him, and thus propose to ask the qestir not to be too harsh with her.

but what's done is done: eos crawls at the qestir khan's feet, but nothing can change his mind. the problem is less that scéléraud desacrated the site - it's more of a problem for the dotharl - and more than she spoke, and spoke in a foreign tongue. this is an unseen level of falsehood for the qestir (according to their beliefs, an action is superior to words, that are lies; so words in a foreign tongue ring even less true): eos isn't eos anymore, she drifted away too much, can she even be sure she's still a xaela, and so on. she thankfully avoid just getting executed for the desecration of the site and the breaking of qestiri laws. it's a mercy: the new khan (now iturgen) always liked her. but she is immediately exiled from the steppe.

*

This happens right after the calamity that hit eorzea, so it means she has been on the road for roughly five years when ARR starts. she longs for the steppe, but feels too much guilt to feel like she still belongs to it. she is a nomad, but travels alone, which makes the ordeal more unpleasant than it already is. on the other hand she constantly needs to adapt to new cultures. except she's seen as a stranger. at the same time, she knows full well she is one, she hates their garbs, she fights with their weapons, she looks like them, and it just feel... strange. she feels out of place. she doesn't know how to act, how to feel, she's just a confused exile. Her world views were shattered: what were lies, what were truths? Wherein did they lie? In words? In actions? she is wandering aimlessly - which is the antithesis of being a nomad. This gets a resolution, but not before endwalker - she finds a new home, a new focal point, the twelveswood, around which she organizes her travels. as of now she's starting to be comfortable with her xaela identity again. but i reiterate. it took time.

[fheythfully]

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 24: Free Write

Dear stranger,

Greetings, my dear fated self. I fully acknowledge how fantastical it must be, to be receiving a letter from a you who is also not quite you. Lest you wonder, it is perhaps even more peculiar to be the one writing to a self who you have not yet become. How shall I entreat you? Should you be that of a journal, with thoughts penned as they come? If that be the case, are you a journal for academia, or a journal for the purpose of my work? If the latter, which work would that be: my beloved Dreams of Departure, or the duties laid upon me by my office of Azem, the Fourteenth?

Venat tells me that you share my face, but you are painted in the colours of my long-departed sister. Mayhaps then I shall treat you as I once treated my dear Persephone, in which case–

Are you safe, my darling child? Are you well?

Venat has told me of what transpired and what may yet come to pass. It is a tale unlike any other, and I struggle to believe its validity. I know I would fight to reject any future which has coloured my friend’s soul so darkly. You share our face, however – mine and Persephone’s – and I do not expect your life to be easy. For this, I must apologize, for I fear that if my duties have become yours – as Venat has told me, though she assures me that you do not seem to regret all that you have seen and done – then I have, somewhere in my future timeline, failed. Nevertheless, I will continue working to ensure my hopes and dreams of souls free of their past burdens become reality one day, and in the meantime, pray to the Planet that your future will never come to pass. Allow me this one greedy hope, beloved.

Yet if you are reading my words, then all my plans have come to ruin and you are the inheritor of my soul and all its ills. I hope that you are the best parts of us, which have always been entirely my sister: Persephone’s boundless curiosity and her love for the earth and the sky and all that which lives upon and betwixt the two. Her gentle kindness and her wild laughter, and her spine of metal in the face of injustice. If it so happens that you do not, then do not fear disappointment from me, who is long gone. Even were you to be a woman unlike the both of us, or even a woman who is more like me than my sister, I am overjoyed to hear that in some future which has visited Venat, Persephone’s soul lives on, even if only in the colour of her hair and the shade of her eyes.

I have many wishes for you, child, and their number is so plenty that this missive would be much longer were I to let myself muse upon them all. I shall endeavor to collect them all within one, short prayer, then:

I wish for you to be happy. As I have not allowed myself to be, as Persephone was not allotted the time to be. It is a selfish wish, for to find happiness is a privilege most must fight to achieve. My travels as Azem have taught me this, and in a world where my soul makes the trip back to this time with the kind of sadness Venat had described, I fear the circumstances must be even more dire than what I see in the world of today.

To live is both a gift and a burden, my time-traversing girl, and we must take the life that is given to us and do with it what we can. I entreat you to be kind and never cruel, but to never bow to others who would make themselves your master. I entreat you to remain curious and fearless, but never at the cost of your own comfort.

I hope that you are someone you can be proud of, my new, future self.

The memories entrusted in this crystal encompass the whole of my life up until the moment I perish, or the moment I no longer have the chance to infuse it further. I have promised myself that no matter the amount of time between the writing of this letter and such a moment as described, I will not open this letter. The me in this letter to you shall be captured in this moment in time, when Etheirys is still beautiful and bountiful and our future is shining with the gleam of hope. It is how I hope to remember my life, when the time comes for my soul to depart and eventually become you.

It is your choice to use the crystal. I find it safer to wonder than to know, sometimes, but you are not entirely me now.

I am so, so happy for that.

Be well, my new future self.

Kore 

[azurillturtle]

telos (laughter & light)

more thoughts on ancients culture, in the form of azem, euny, and a little bit of pashtarot. growing up and being left behind.

It is raining outside of Amaurot.

It is not raining inside Amaurot.

Inside the city bounds, the humidity is nothing more than a warm, pleasant mist. It’s warm in general, actually, a tad too hot to be considered ideal but not the blistering heat one might expect in the height of midsummer. In fact it’s unusually nice—

Euny mentally corrects herself. For one who has lived one’s whole life within Amaurot, this is exactly the weather one might expect in the height of midsummer.

Weather in Amaurot does not always follow the expected rules of the rest of the world. The people of the city claim that they experience seasons. Spring is the time for Halmarut to show off their newest creations. Summer is noticeably warmer and wetter. Autumn is marked by bright bursts of foliage on the trees, and a light dusting of snow might be found on the ground in winter.

That’s really all, though. If one were to travel a little ways out from the city, a mere ten malms or so, one would find the weather gradually changing to something more normal for Amaurot’s latitude and the surrounding topography. It is not that Amaurot was built in a temperate clime: It is simply that her residents do not see any reason to suffer any discomfort that they can block out entirely. And so the weather is mild, the seasons are perfectly tailored to appeal to the poets and the romantics, and they experience no storms save those that originate within the Capitol.

Euny has learned that Amaurotines are full of these sorts of little hypocrisies. They call themselves custodians of the star. They say that protecting and overseeing Etheirys is their lives’ work. She does not see how manipulating the local weather is supposed to serve the star, but she has learned it’s better not to ask.

To those born and raised in the city, this is a perfectly normal day in a perfectly normal summer and there is no reason to think otherwise. And what does it say about Euny herself, she wonders, that she no longer thinks of herself as being part of the city where she was born and raised?

It is raining outside of Amaurot. It is not raining inside Amaurot. The best middle ground she has found is a vantage point on the cliffs south of the city. From here she can admire the sprawling metropolis in its entirety, the towering buildings and glowing lights and spiraling sculptures of her home. From here she is far enough removed that the sky is gray and the rain is a light, persistent drizzle soaking through her robes. In the world outside the city it is summer, and so it is warm enough that she does not mind, though she will have to remember to dry off before she returns. She has an image to maintain that she cannot afford to have sullied by rumors. She cannot stand the thought of whispers behind her back, gazes of disapproval or pity leveled at her when they think she is not looking.

Euny heaves a deep sigh. Her hands ball into the carpet of wildflowers at her sides. She resists the urge to raise them and pull up the greenery by the roots.

Now especially she cannot appear to be anything but calm and collected. She is no longer a child, prone to ill-timed excitement and unsightly outbursts. She is a seasoned traveler of the star, mature enough to take anything in stride.

Even this.

Especially this.

She does not know how long she has been sitting here, lost in thoughts of her city and her place in it, when someone behind her sets their hands on her shoulders. She jumps and nearly tips over in her surprise. The scream she lets out is not very mature at all.

The person behind her was expecting this. Already they are laughing, their hands tightening on her shoulders to steady her before she falls.

“Azem!” she splutters, twisting around to shoot a half-hearted glare at her long-time acquaintance.

Azem’s grin is completely unrepentant. Like her, they have lowered their cowl and mask out here away from the city. Their eyes, striking violet and gold, are bright and wicked.

“Hello, Euny,” they say. “It’s been a while. Not since Miletus, if I remember right?”

“I think so,” Euny answers, though she does not spare more than the briefest of thoughts for the question. “What are you doing here?”

Azem makes a small, thoughtful noise. In one fluid motion they fall to a seat beside her, sitting crosslegged on the grass and draping their arms across their knees. She envies their careless grace; she always has.

“They call me counselor to the people,” Azem says breezily. “I suppose that means I should do a spot of counseling every now and again. You look as if you might benefit from it.”

Euny does not argue. She knows the turn of Azem’s moods well enough to know they will continue pestering her until she speaks. And so, even though she does not particularly wish to converse with anyone and especially not with one of her father’s contemporaries, she says, “I meant, what are you doing here?”

“Oh. You mean, here?” Azem’s wave encompasses the clifftop on which they sit and the city in the distance below them. “Well, naturally, I was looking for you. A little bird told me I might find you here.”

Euny cocks her head and furrows her brow. “…Literally or figuratively?”

Azem smiles and does not answer. Instead they say, “Nice place you’ve got here. Stunning view of the city. Come here often?”

“…Sometimes. I used to more often when I was attending school.” She twists her wrists fractionally, putting more stress on the poor grass clutched in her fists. More softly she admits, “Whenever I was upset and wanted to get away for a bit.”

“Hmm. Would you prefer to be alone then or should I stay?”

Euny shakes her head. “You can stay.”

“Oh, good,” Azem says, their tone still so lighthearted it’s hard to decipher their thoughts. “I can’t do much good as a counselor if you shoo me away.”

Euny rolls her eyes and doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

They sit together quietly for a time, the wind toying with their hair and the rain sluicing down their faces. Azem, Euny notices, doesn’t seem to mind the weather much either. Indeed, they tilt their head back as if enjoying the caress of the rain.

Euny does not ask why Azem thinks she might need counseling. They too will have heard the news. Whoever it was who directed Azem her way, it is both gratifying and embarrassing that they spared a thought for her in this moment.

Azem is the one who breaks the silence. That is not unexpected; they always have been more impatient than Euny.

“So,” they say—and she stiffens at that single word. “Eight moons.”

“Yes.”

They tilt their head, not turning to face her but regarding her out of the corner of their eye. “You must have known it was coming? He wouldn’t have sprung something like this on you.”

“…Yes.”

Azem waits for her to continue. When she does not, they sigh, leaning back and resting their weight on their elbows. They murmur, “It is cause for rejoicing when one declares their work complete and announces their intention to return to the star. And yet you aren’t happy.”

“Are you?” she retorts. “Everyone knows you and Papa don’t get along.”

“Is that what they say?” Azem wonders aloud. Before Euny can answer that rather puzzling question, they are already saying, “We have an agreement, he and I, though it may not seem that way from the outside.”

They slide their elbows along the wet grass, falling onto their back and bringing one hand up to shield their eyes from the rain.

“You, though. Your love for Pashtarot is in no doubt.”

The invitation leaves little room for misinterpretation. Euny pushes one heel across the ground, tearing grass and leaving furrows in the mud.

She wants to say she doesn’t want to talk about it. But if she really didn’t want to talk about it, she would have told Azem to leave her, right?

“He first mentioned it some years ago,” she says at last. “As you say, he wanted to discuss it with family first. He sat us down one morning and told us he was thinking of returning to the star. He said it wouldn’t be anytime soon, that he still needed to set his affairs in order. I thought there would be time enough to make my peace with the idea, but…”

“But time flies, and before you knew it, it was looming close on the horizon,” Azem says gently. “And now the moment is nearly here and you don’t know what to do.”

Euny nods silently.

Azem hesitates, then reaches over to pat her elbow. It is a tentative, awkward gesture. Still, they are trying.

“It’s strange,” she says, in answer to Azem’s earlier question. “I should be happy for him. And I am. But I feel as if I’m forcing myself to be happy for him. If I stopped to think about what I wanted, for myself, I wouldn’t be happy at all, and that’s…”

She stops, struggling for words; ducks her head and pushes a lock of bedraggled hair out of her face. “…I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of it really.”

Azem only says, quietly and thoughtfully, “Hmm.”

That’s really not useful at all, and Euny can’t help but be disappointed. She’s not sure what she was expecting really. Certainly it wasn’t the painfully judgmental silence now stretching between them.

Azem runs their hands across the ground, rustling blades of grass in their wake, and at last says, “This is the first time anyone close to you has returned to the star?”

Euny nods. Azem laughs, low in their throat, but they stop quickly once they realize she might take offense. “Then I’ll tell you something few bother to explain. Only the very old and the very idealistic truly believe that returning to the star is an occasion for uncomplicated joy. The rest of us, who have decades if not centuries remaining in which to serve, often find ourselves conflicted at their return. We should be glad that those we have loved have found themselves thus satisfied and declare their duties at an end. But it is a bittersweet farewell for those left behind, for we find ourselves faced with an eternal parting from those we cherish.”

Azem lifts one hand, framing their fingers against the sky. Then they glance at her, frowning slightly as if puzzled.

“You are not the first to wonder why we walk so willingly to our ends. A dear friend of mine struggled with the question for a very long time. Why we exist on this star, why we live, why we would choose to die. But in the end everyone’s thoughts on returning to the star are different. Just as we choose what brings us fulfillment in life, only we can decide why and when we should seek our ends.”

“What about you?” Euny says. “You’re old. Why do you think people want to return?”

Azem laughs, They roll onto their side to face her fully, mismatched eyes glittering with mirth. “Euny! Is that really what you think of me? I’m hurt!”

Euny draws her brows together, attempting to glower at them, but as always, their laughter is contagious. In the end she smiles, just slightly. “You didn’t answer my question. What would make you return to the star?”

Why is her father choosing to leave her behind?

Azem is silent for a time, merely watching her. They don’t move save to blink, long lashes brushing rain from their eyes. She finds that she cannot holds their piercing gaze and looks away, back towards the city, and Azem sighs.

“To start with, it’s not fully my decision. I’m not going anywhere without Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. That we decided long ago.”

Euny stifles her giggle. Their words are matter-of-fact, their promise solemn and unbreakable. Azem will return with Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus or not at all. The thought of their devotion tugs sweet and painful at her heartstrings.

“You’re adorable,” she says.

“What?” But Azem’s confusion lasts only a moment. When she does not elaborate, they flop on their back on the wet grass and continue, “…I don’t know when they will be ready. They’ll tell me when it’s time. But as for when I think we should return to the star…

“Well. I’m a traveler. The Traveler, I suppose. To me, life is all one long adventure. A series of sweet meetings and bitter partings. We chase our dreams, and celebrate our successes, and bow beneath the crushing weight of failure. Each and every moment, we live to the fullest. And at the end of the day, exhausted from our efforts, we retire for a well-deserved rest.”

They lace their fingers together and extend their arms above them. “That is how I have come to view it. Much as I love adventure, even I must admit that there comes a time when the excitement wears thin and we long for sleep.”

Azem shrugs, their hands rising another few ilms in the air with the movement. “We live to serve the star. We return to the star once we have made our contributions. In practice, that means a return when we are at our happiest: when we have achieved all that we intended, when we can look back on our lives with satisfaction and say, yes, I can do no better. What reason then do we have to linger? Better to rest and be reborn anew, ready to serve once more.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Euny mumbles.

“Most things are when you get right down to it. Complicated though they might seem at first glance, you’ll find there’s really not much to them once you strip them down to the essentials.”

Azem glances to the side, their eyes sharp. Only when a shiver runs down her spine does Euny realize that she’s relaxed her guard.

“What I mean to say, Euny, is that by voicing his intent to return to the star, Pashtarot has pronounced that he is satisfied with the life he has lived. As a respected member of the Convocation of Fourteen, yes, and as one who has watched over our people and acted as an unwelcome adversary to their irreproachable Azem, but in his personal life as well.”

Azem bestows a beatific smile upon her. “He has the utmost faith in you. You have grown into a magnificent adult. He believes he has done his duty by you; that even in his absence, you will continue to be well, with your strength and your courage to light your way. Has he not said as much?”

Euny stares as if they’ve grown a second head. After a long moment, Azem sighs. “…Right. Pashtarot. Of course not.”

With a great heave, they push themself back up to a seat. They are so close their shoulder brushes against hers, but at least their unsettling gaze is no longer focused on her.

“It’s a very personal matter, choosing to return to the star,” they say quietly. “In the end it falls to the individual, and it’s best if they don’t allow their decision to be unduly influenced by others. To live entirely for other people is to deny one’s own desires. To deny one’s desires is to plant the seeds of dissatisfaction and misery. It’s natural to grieve those we will not see again, but it is for their own sake that we let them go.”

“I know that,” she mumbles.

She does know that. She knows that she’s being selfish, wishing that her father would stay just a little longer. And that makes her feel worse in the end, because she shouldn’t be selfish, she should be able to see him off with a smile.

“We meet many people on our travels,” Azem says. “Some we encounter only once. Some we see again and again. And some we part with, knowing there will never be a next time. I will not tell you it gets easier—only that it is the same for all of us at some point in our lives.

“You will get through it all right. He would not leave you if he did not believe you could thrive without him.” Azem smiles faintly and tilts their head. “It’s a hard thing, being a parent. Letting one’s child fly free on her own wings.”

Euny closes her eyes and blows a breath. Azem’s shoulder bumps hers again, companionably, and she finds she does not mind.

“Would you like a hug?” they ask softly.

Euny nods, not daring to speak.

Azem’s arm wraps about her shoulders, pulling her close. Euny keeps her eyes screwed firmly shut. It is raining outside of Amaurot, and it is not raining inside Amaurot, and, she thinks, she can be forgiven for a moment of weakness. Just this once.

Azem does not say a word, but the arm around her is tight, and they do not let her go.

When even the last of her whimpers dies down to nothing, when pride and embarrassment reassert themselves, she straightens up and in so doing pulls away. Azem lets her go, dropping their hand to rest back on the grass.

“Thank you,” she says, and Azem nods.

“I’ll miss him too, I think,” they say. “Not in quite the same way as you, but I will miss him.”

She has no reason to doubt the truth of those words. Whatever Azem’s feelings on her father, a long, complex association leaves its own mark. It will not be the same once the new Pashtarot takes his place.

Euny scrubs one hand across her eyes. She cannot return to the city for a little while yet, not while her eyes are red enough to evoke comment. Instead she turns to Azem and searches for something to say. “What about you?”

Azem’s brow is furrowed, their eyes wide with confusion. Azem is also by now soaked from head to toe, gray hair plastered against their skin and robes hanging heavy with water. The overall effect is rather comical. “What about me?”

“You seem the type of person who can always find something new and interesting wherever you go. When would you consider yourself satisfied? Your adventures at an end?”

“Besides when Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus are ready, you mean?” Azem stretches their legs out, pointing their toes down toward the city. “Well. I don’t think I’ll ever see everything the star has to offer. You’re right about that at least. When I have shared the joy and the beauty of the star with all who will listen; when the friendship between Amaurot and our far outflung peoples has grown unshakable. When the world has become a kinder and gentler place. Then, I think, I can step down from my seat content.”

They chuckle low in their throat, their chin dipping and their eyelids falling half-closed with amusement. “We won’t return immediately, I think. I fully intend to drag them across the star and take them to all of my favorite places. We could all do with some time to enjoy ourselves, and there is so much I’d like to show them.

“But that is still a long way off, and there is much preparation that has yet to be done.” Azem sighs theatrically. “Hythlodaeus still has boxes and boxes of submissions he’s always said he’ll get to someday, and Emet-Selch still keeps getting distracted by every new and fancy application of aether that crosses his path. I daresay they’ve put no thought into who will look after their business once they’ve gone, and that’s the most important consideration of all if one wishes for one’s legacy to be properly preserved.”

“I suppose,” Euny murmurs. She is thinking about her father’s chosen successor, a woman she has known since she was very young, as serious and dedicated as one could ever ask. There is no one better qualified to carry on her father’s will and his wishes than Metis.

“When that time comes, Euny…”

Azem pauses. There is a quality to their hesitance that makes Euny glance at them. Their eyes are narrowed to the barest slits; they are gazing down at the city as if something has displeased them.

“Azem?”

They shake their head sharply as if emerging from a reverie. “…Never mind. You’re still young. I won’t burden you with that yet.”

She stares at them, lips unconsciously pressed together in a pout. “Are you saying I’m too young to understand?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m saying you should enjoy your carefree youth for a few more decades before I upend your life with my dastardly plans.”

That does not make her feel any better. Euny’s scowl makes plain her thoughts on the matter. Azem laughs and ruffles her hair affectionately, which only solidifies her belief that they still consider her a child. “Feeling better?”

She stops, her lips parting as she considers the question. Oddly enough, she is. “…Yes.”

“I thought so. It helps to know you’re not alone.” Azem nudges her arm. “If you still find yourself struggling, send me a message. I’m always willing to talk. And I suggest sitting down with your father for a proper discussion. He isn’t really one to discuss his feelings, but he’ll do it if you ask it of him.”

Of course he will. That is the one thing in her life that Euny has never doubted. Her father would do anything for her.

Azem waits for a moment, giving her time to speak if she so desires. When she does not, they prompt gently, “Is there anything else on your mind?”

Euny gives the question serious thought before shaking her head. Azem nods and stands, stretching their arms above their head. “Then I think it’s past time we return to the city. We’ve been gone long enough there will be people wondering at our absence.”

They extend a hand to her, wet and clammy with rain. Euny takes it and they pull her to her feet.

She has traveled with Azem before, with other companions or just the two of them alone. Under normal circumstances, Azem will just not shut up: They delight in pointing out every wonder that crosses their path and catches their eye. Today, however, they are reserved in deference to her mood, breaking the silence only to tell her to watch her step.

Soon enough the spires of Amaurot are looming tall before them and they are passing through the city gates. Euny expects Azem to make their excuses and peel away to find their friends; instead they accompany her, following her lead down the streets. There is nowhere else she needs to be, and so she turns her steps toward home.

They are a mere few minutes and a few blocks from the spacious family suite where she grew up when they catch sight of a familiar mask. The color would identify him even had Euny not already recognized him by his height and his walk, the way he carries himself and the way he turns to look at them.

She stops and rocks back on her heels, struck by the sudden shock of seeing him. He pauses; then he’s moving toward them at his usual ground-eating stride.

“Eunomia,” he says. Then his attention slips to her companion and he inclines his head stiffly. “Azem.”

“Delivery for you, Pashtarot,” Azem says cheerfully. “I found her on the cliffs above the city. Not sure if the carrier got the address wrong.”

Pashtarot pays no attention to their nattering. He is studying Euny, searching for any trace of weakness or distress. She can feel the weight of his gaze beneath his mask.

For a brief, fleeting moment, she realizes that her first instinct when upset was to flee the city. What does that say about her, a born child of Amaurot? What does that say about who she is now?

What does her father see when he looks at her? Who does he think she will become once he has moved on and can no longer keep her under his watchful eye?

Pashtarot does not tell her. He does not speak of it at all. When he speaks at last, it is to say, “You’re soaked through.”

Her first instinct was to leave the city.

Her first thought was to turn to the outside world.

Once she remembers that, she realizes that he must know exactly the type of person she is. Even then he is prepared to return to the star. He trusts that wherever she goes from here, she will continue to be someone he loves and takes pride in.

Euny straightens up. She tilts her head back to look him in the eye. “It’s raining outside Amaurot.”

She speaks with a bright and beaming smile.

[sayonaramidnight]

Tell me more about their relationship with the world. How do they see Etheirys/Hydaelyn and their responsibility to it? Are they simply citizens, responsible for their own impact and no one else's, or are they guardians, responsible for monitoring the effect of everything? Or something else, something in between, something completely different.

Tell me of their relationship to the world.

OH <3

Listen, Helvi never expected to bear responsibility for the whole world. Not because she didn't love the world and its people - on the contrary! - but because she didn't consider herself that strong or unusual or important. It all felt too big. She became an adventurer so she could travel and... do all these side quests, run errands and help people, listening to their troubles, making their lives a little easier and making the world a little better bit by bit, within her capability.

And then it turned out this capability was bigger than she'd thought.

She started experiencing the Echo and hearing Hydaelyn when she was lost and confused, trying to regain her missing memories - and she thought, 'what if there's a reason for it I can't remember? what if I used to be more than I can remember?'? So she went to the Scions in hope for answers, but the next moment she was battling primals and imperials and treated like a hero - and she felt very out of place there.

But she tried her best to met everyone's expectations and find her own reasons to keep fighting. Smaller, more personal reasons - and that was her loved ones. So she fought for the three main city-states for the sake of her family and old friends from her old life. She fought for Ishgard for the sake of Haurchefant and his family and all the new friends she made there. She fought for Doma for the sake of Yugiri and Gosetsu and regular people like Isse and his sister. She fought for Ala Mhigo for the sake of Lyse, Rhun and the memory of Minfilia. And then she fought for the First for the sake of both her friends trapped there and their friends as well.

Then Endwalker came and she did not have to carry this burden alone anymore. It never felt right to be a hero, but it feels right to be one of the heroes in a world where anyone can be one, on their own terms. And it makes her love the world even more.

And then Arianna. Arianna never wanted to be anything more than a Thanalan Tiny and an Immortal Flame, and maybe low-key hobbyist crocheter. But then she gained another purpose, which was glaring from over Helvi's shoulder at people who were trying to use Helvi for their own goals (or so Arianna saw it).

And you know what is said about the Warrior of Light inspiring people, right? Well, Arianna sure was inspired, even if she wasn't aware of that.

And so she went from glaring at Yvain, calling his guild out on its bigotry, to becoming the new Azure Dragoon*. From fighting Garleans at Carteneau to travelling the Empire with a bunch of porxies. From pointing out Alphinaud's mistakes to loving both twins fiercely. From a technophobe to the Ironworks test pilot. From a regular soldier to a Flame Spymaster in making. From an atoning ex-bandit to a defender. From an outcast to a hero on her own terms.

And she feels... relatively fine with where she is now.

tl; dr - it's been a long way for them, but in the end, they've accepted the place they're in.

*I'm pretty sure Yvain sent her to Alberic just so she could go glare at someone else for a change.

[driftward]

I posted 3,138 times in 2022

That's 3,045 more posts than 2021!

373 posts created (12%)

2,765 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@autumnslance

@yloiseconeillants

@voidsentprinces

@scrollsfromarebornrealm

@phaedra-mero

I tagged 3,074 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#final fantasy xiv - 2,895 posts

#others art - 874 posts

#others edits - 474 posts

#friends writing - 346 posts

#oc wol - 282 posts

#ffxivwrite2022 - 241 posts

#endwalker - 195 posts

#thancred waters - 183 posts

#y'shtola rhul - 181 posts

#zoissette vauban - 170 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#yeah mch falls so short for how awesome it could be like you could be gadget master but instead its just dps and faster dps okay alright i g

My Top Posts in 2022:

#4

Thirty six years of age. She was only twenty years overdue in fulfilling her dream, that of leaving Ishgard to travel to other corners of the realm. She had always had this moment in her mind’s eye, when she’d finally be free to pursue her studies abroad. In this case, at the Arcanist’s Guild in Limsa Lominsa. She just never imagined that the price of that goal would be her exile from her homelands. She looked up at the tall spires of Limsa Lominsa, breathed deep the scent of ocean shore, feeling a nervous grin creep across her face, and could not help but feel that this was all a very big mistake. One she’d be paying for for the rest of her life.

31 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

#3

Character concept: Viera male named one of the following-

Pilot Lightingway Viera Maleway Male Pilotway Pilot Adventureway Anyway you get the gist. It’s a Loporrit piloting a very convincing Viera mechsuit. They don’t fool -anybody-, mind, as they don’t bother to filter their voice and the Viera, well, behaves like a piloted mech and not at all natural. Other loporrits who are interacting with the population of Etheirys in a perfectly normal manner find our little mech pilot to be bizarre by even their pretty broad standards, but our friend here -insists- that this is, in fact, the best way to interact with the peoples of the world. When they eat, they make all the normal motions of eating that you would expect from a Viera, but at the last moment instead of biting the pilot just hops up a bit and grabs whatever it is through the mouth and pulls it down to their little piloting chamber. They try not to stick their head up so far that they can be seen, so people just see a little Loporrit hand reach up from the back of the throat, though sometimes, they’ll come up for really big food to wrestle it down. The Viera unhinges their jaw for this. It looks... probably pretty unsettling, but not necessarily in a horror show kind of way. Just in a ‘that is really weird do you know that?’ kind of way. For drinking, they just stick a straw up and out of the mouth. To non-Loporrits they insist they are a perfectly normal adventurer who is just here to help in any way possible! Please be patient while they ask a lot of questions, they need to make sure they have all of the information they need in order to help out. Oh, by the way, do you have enough carrots? They brought enough for everyone, it’s in their backpack.

36 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

#2

I didn’t know.

I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t know.

I didn’t know that you couldn’t tell me everything

Because you were drowning deep in our star

Buried under duty, burdened by history

I didn’t understand that your blessing was meant as protection, not burden

I didn’t understand these visions were not prophecy, but history

That we might learn

I didn’t know that your tests were not just for the sake of our star, Not just for our future, But for all possible futures

I did not know the magnitude of the sacrifice that you made For us

I don’t know that I can condone all that you did, But I understand it I don’t know that I can forgive everything you’ve done, But I accept it I don’t know what to say to you now.

I wish … we’d had more time.

But we’ve only this moment

”Thank you for believing in me... even when I did not always believe in myself.”

“How could I not, my brave little spark? Your light shone so bright, long before we ever knew one another.”

“…I will remember you, Venat.”

“I know, little Sette. I know, and… thank you.

“But now it’s time for both of us to move on.”

42 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So, Estinien and Rhalgr share a voice actor (in English, anyway; don’t know about other locales).

In unrelated news, I am learning how to use my photo editing program.

109 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[a-pink-beau]

FFXIV Write 2024 #25 - Perpetuity

Summary: Ar'beunti and Urianger find a moment of calm.

Content Warnings: None

Spoilers: Endwalker

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Does thou wonder how many eyes look up at us, just as we look down at them?”

Beau cocks her head as she takes in Etheirys in all its beauty. The view from the moon is definitely one of a kind.

“Not that they could see us from up here,” Beau answers simply. Urianger smiles as he dips his head.

“Yes. That may be so, just as we too cannot make out a single soul from where we sit.” He looks back to the star. “Though it is no less true that they look this way regardless.”

The two sit upon a rock on the grey landscape, the rest of the scions elsewhere. It is cool, quiet, and solitary. “I can think of but one individual who would have quite enjoyed this view.” Beau looks up to Urianger, waiting for him to finish his thought. There is a smile on his face, but melancholy in his eyes. Beau looks at her hands, she knows who he is talking about now.

“Yeah…” It's all Beau can muster.

“She gave her life for us. Would she know how far we have travelled in her wake.” Urianger looks to Beau, seeing her lost in her thoughts, her guard all but down. “You miss her still. Just as I do.” Beau lets out a sigh.

“Does that feeling ever go away? I knew her a fraction of the time you did, I can't imagine how it feels for you.” Urianger smiles, appreciative of getting to witness this softer side of Ar'beunti.

“The feeling has made its roots in our hearts, but we can shape that of how it may grow. Be it weed or beautiful blossom.” Beau gives a look to Urianger, as if to nudge him that she sees that he is deflecting. “I believe it less us having a disparity of time with her, and more you may have taken to her more than I.” Beau raises an eyebrow. Urianger does not pick up on or, at the very least, does not acknowledge Beau's confused face.

“But yes, she was a dear friend. The pain of her absence is unmistakable. But thy company when thou has wished to talk of her memory time and time again has given me the joy required to overcome the grief.”

“You're saying I helped you feel better?”

“Aye. Thy allowed me to mourn. Like a gardener tending to her plot. You, my friend, raised this seed in mine heart into a rose; more flower than thorn.”

Beau looks back to Etheirys with a scoff.

“Here I thought I was just being selfish.”

“Self-indulgence is natural when one is suffering loss, but that does not mean it cannot be without benefit to others.”

There is a silence between them for a time. They continue to sit side-by-side, watching the star rotate before them in the distance.

“So this feeling really won't go away then?”

“Nay. No more than her influence on this star and others that we've touched.”

“Her influence?”

“Aye. She gifted us the power to defeat the Ascians and that paved the road to where we sit now. All that we scions do. All that the Warriors of Light accomplish. It is made possible by her sacrifice. She lives on in us. She lives on in what we have done.” Urianger looks, once more, back to Beau. “She lives on in all that we will do.”

“Then if we stop the Final Days…?”

“-She will live on for all of eternity.”

Beau blows some air out of her mouth as she tries to wrap her mind around the concept of eternity.

The two return to sitting in silence, as they have done many times before, and will continue to do from time to time in the future. For as long as they are able.

[johnnylandslide]

Day 2: Horizon

This one has Endwalker spoilers, so it's under the cut!

The earliest stages of the trek had been the most difficult. The lower reaches of Cori Celesti were plagued by constant ice storms, and the regions above that were scoured by gale-force winds, but as one climbed the almost completely vertical slopes to the summit, the environmental hazards fell away, leaving one in total silence.

Atlas followed Azem, her hood down and her gleaming white hair flowing freely, blisteringly radiant against the pitch-black backdrop of the Sea of Stars. He focused on the path ahead, controlling his breathing and putting one foot in front of the other. This mountain was known to some as the very top of the world, and few dared even attempt to summit it.

This would be Atlas’s first time. Azem had picked this spot suddenly; the two often took turns suggesting destinations for their travels, and though it had been her turn to choose, Atlas was surprised that she would suggest a trek so rife with danger. Not that he was at all opposed to it; reaching the top of the world had always been a dream of his.

The terrain began to level back out, the two of them having finally reached the summit. Azem stretched her arms and let out a sigh, a huge grin writ large on her face as she turned back around to gaze down on Etheirys.

“What a beautiful world,” she said. From the peak of this impossibly high mountain they could see the whole of the star at once, horizon to horizon.

“Absolutely,” Atlas said. He couldn’t help but smile himself.

The two stood in silence for a while, merely watching the clouds pass and thinking of the myriad souls going about their lives below.

“Thank you. For accompanying me up here,” Azem said. There was a note of finality in her voice that spurred an unpleasant feeling in Atlas’s gut.

“What do you mean?”

She didn’t meet his gaze, and continued to stare down at the star.

“I’ve seen all of it, you know,” she said. “Maybe I missed a couple spots; an island here or there, a secret grotto guarded by beasts I couldn’t defeat. The vast majority of it, though, I’ve been to.”

“I thought I’d seen a lot of it as well, but looking at it from here is making me realize there’s still a lot left for me to do,” Atlas said.

Azem’s gaze suddenly snapped to him, the corners of her mouth upturned in an excited smile. “Exactly! That’s what I meant to thank you for. Though I’ve seen so much of this world already, traveling with you and witnessing your reactions to it makes it feel new again.”

“It does?”

“Truly. There is… this type of tree that’s unique to Mount Etna, over there,” she said, pointing off to a distant mountain range. They had been there together somewhat recently. “It’s great and tall, and standing in a forest of them was a feeling of majesty overwhelming. You, though, immediately tried to climb one.”

Atlas chuckled. The attempt hadn’t gone well.

“You engage with some pieces of Etheirys in the same ways I did, but so many others in a vastly different way, and it is a pleasure to witness both. To one as old as myself, who has seen all the star has to offer, it has been refreshing to undertake the journey again alongside a little sprout.”

A blush found its way across his cheeks. “…I’m happy to help, Azem.”

She turned her gaze back to Etheirys, and moments passed as the two looked down upon it.

“The last Azem brought me up here as well. This is typically where it’s done.”

“Huh? You can’t mean-“ Atlas said.

“I do mean. I am not often this sure of any decision,” she said. “I believe the seat will suit you, despite how little we actually use it.”

Atlas nodded slowly. “…If you’re sure. I would be honored to accept it.”

Azem laughed. “You needn’t be so serious! This is all but a formality, in truth. We will be doing the same things tomorrow as we did yesterday; travelling the star, listening to others, and helping where we can. I just think it’s time I let you start leading from the front.”

“…Thank you. I think I know where I want to go next.”

And so the name changed hands.

[mrslittletall]

Here are some things that I think might happen or be explored in future FF14 expansions:

The void. This one is obvious to me. Loads of people seem to think that the void arc after Endwalker was filler and it kinda feels like it should have been one of the optional trials, right? Look at it, you got some dungeons out of it and a couple of trials. That felt very in line with the Stormblood optional trial with the auspices (I think that is their English name). But it is content that everyone is forced to do and I think that is because we totally will go to the void for good and help Zero out saving it. I actually wonder if Zero is another shard of Azem? I don't remember if she was ever compared to being similar to the Warrior of Light. We haven't seen everything of Etheirys so there are still quite a few parts where they could put an expansion. Those probably would be more in line of Dawntrail however, with it being more about the people and their struggles there, with the WoL more lending a helping hand to the current leader. But... I also think that the events in Dawntrail may have just been the tip of the iceberg of what is to come. So, Alexandria's shard clearly seemed to have been prepared for a calamity. Yeah, there already was a calamity of lightning but don't forget, we only have six elements and two poles, so some of them have to be used twice. And who prepared the calamity? The Ascians. Of course the unsundered are gone but their usual process was finding the shards of the sundered convocation and give them their crystals so that they would work on the calamity. There is a whole raid series about this (Eden raids). So... there is a very real possibility that some shards are still prepared for a rejoining with the Ascian in question don't even knowing that the unsundered are all gone now. Maybe we are getting some information about this in the Dawntrail patch content? Who knows. I am just thinking of stuff that could happen. The Azem crystal and the world fusion key. I kinda think that is what Dawntrail was preparing. Like ARR prepares you for the role of Warrior of Light and then the rest is bringing peace to Eorzea and finding out the truth about Hydaelyn and Zodiark. Dawntrail clearly started as low stakes adventure where you just help out a future leader with her quest and then it got serious. I don't think they will just pocket the Azem crystal as explanation for how you do trials. In the lore book that you can read in game it also says that the Azem crystal is starting to glow brighter the more it is used, so I am sure they are planning something with it. Will we ever meet the real Azem? I doubt it, that probably will give some problems with us being allowed to headcanon our own WoL... but I would be fine with it, especially if said Azem is fine with not existing anymore and giving the reigns to our Warrior of Light. Yeah, not gonna lie, I just love the angst of fearing that you lose who you are, lose your memories and might hurt your loved ones because your old self takes over. I don't think it will happen but a girl can dream. So, I guess what I would like to see is... - The Void - More areas of Etheirys (I like how the world map is clouded over. That always makes it feel naturally instead of in WoW where they seemed to add more and more islands out of nowhere). - Travelling to other shards, especially once that might have been prepared for calamity - Azem stuff Also, but I don't think this will happen, I always joke that the Allagan's are their own Final Fantasy games long before FF14 happens so it would be fun to go back in time to see it. Of course the events cannot be changed so that is kinda a naught point, just would like to see Allagan in its prime instead of the ruins.