#Tales of Minfilia.

[toadeyes-miqote]

Taking inventory 5

Yes Kitchen duty scene. That fleeting moment of happiness. If you skip flavour text, you'll kinda miss it.

If you see F'lhaminn and Thancred making eye contact with each other. It was an accident and I kept it.

[faragonart]

"Alas... I can no longer walk this path with you... so promise me this. Tell me you will live your life, make friends anew, share your heart with someone special...

...for this is only the beginning of your long, long road..."

[brightblessed]

@fxrtunas​​ said:  Star + minfilia!

Send a 🌟 + a name and my muse will talk about their bond to that character!

⸻ ♞

❝ Ah... ❞  Hearing her name brought a heavy weight down upon his heart. Minfilia was the first person to break through the walls Roi had built up after the loss of his mother. With each loss, he fortified it. Niall. Aunt Caitria. Each time he felt his heart ripped into pieces, he used those pieces to close himself off from the world. Until she, slowly but surely, remained kind to him. When she discovered their shared lineage in Ala Mhigo. Roi began to consider her a friend. And somehow, the ice he had crafted around his heart melted. Right for it all to be ripped up again. 

The loss of Minfilia was devastating to him. He lived with thousands of voices echoing in his mind. Things he should have done. What a fool he had been to trust that Hydealyn would protect her, as She had him. Even if he had forgiven Her, he couldn’t forgive himself. He knew it had to be done. Or else the First would have been lost. And yet... he is still childish enough to ache about it. To wish she was still here. To wonder what she would say about things. To think of how she would smile or reassure. To expect to see her out of the corner of his eye. Loss is not something that ever goes away. Roi still lived with the ghosts of all those that had been taken from him. And yet, she was the only one he had the chance to bid farewell to more than once. But his stubborn heart still refuses to let go. 

 There is nothing he can say about her. There is too much to say. A contradiction, much like the one in his heart. She is at peace. Her legacy entrusted to Ryne and himself. And yet... his arrogant heart tells him he could have done more. As if he had the power to do that. Instead of dwelling on the bitter feelings, he speaks on the most prominent sentiment in his soul. 

❝ I hope she knew...❞ His voice is soft, quite. Somber. ❝ How much she meant to me. And that she saved my life. ❞ The reason he could keep going. The reason he tried to love himself and take care of himself... It was because of the people he loved. The people he would have never allowed himself to get close to had she not torn down his walls. 

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

The Ascent of Tataru

When Tataru Taru was created, a WoW-led ideology was still huge in the MMO space. The idea that an MMO could - indeed, should attempt to - tell a story well was still kind of laughable. You had games attempting it (Guild Wars made a genuine attempt, with some hits and misses in its storytelling and some glaring technical limitations keeping it from greatness both in storytelling and in general appeal). MMOs were broadly thought to be sandboxes with stories in them, and even the story-heaviest of the MMOs was telling its tales in the shadow of WoW. (FFXIV’s team has been very open about their admiration for WoW as a game)

This led to characters you weren’t supposed to get quite so attached to, and also probably led to slightly less work going into the design and characterization and emotes and idiosyncrasies.

Tataru was one of FFXIV’s lamentable “nothing characters” on release. Like Minfilia she was there and she had a personality, kind of, but you didn’t have a sense of what her deal was. Like, what kind of joke would she always laugh at? You knew she spooked easily - a trait she shared with one of the other diminutive Lalafell you’d met - and that she...was a receptionist. But if you’ve had receptionist friends you also know that if you only see them on the job you’ve basically never met them.

At the end of ARR and lead-in to Heavensward, she expresses herself. Her characterization is still pretty bland - she wants to be less useless so she tries to become a mage, it doesn’t work out, and she contents herself with gathering pearls on the beach to make a bit of jewelry for her boss.

(Side Note: I absolutely love the sidequest where you find out Tataru has possibly the most aether of any mortal being, sustaining a Carbuncle for months on end and at greater distance than most trained Summoners can manage. It’s exactly the kind of point designed to make powerfologists theorize that she’s actually the Most Powerful in FFXIV in spite of that being extremely silly)

But really the point where she comes into her own is in Heavensward when she makes Alphinaud’s clothes. This is the point where we really see what she’s growing into. She isn’t attempting to be a mighty warrior, but at this point she’s proven - and will continue to prove - that she is extremely good at her job.

In Endwalker, by the end of the whole base story, you’re level 90, and I like to think Tataru Taru is also a Level 90 Receptionist.

She wears it well. Some Level 90 Receptionist feats: She is the receptionist for a secret society. She is running a multinational business conglomerate as a side hustle. When she feels you deserve a break, a place you can get away from your worries? She buys you a goddamn island. Her financial acumen pays for the scene in which you gather artisans and merchants from the world over for a world-saving project.

[EDIT: I have been reminded in the tags that even before she hits level 90 Receptionist she blackmails a pirate to get the scions a free ride across the ocean. Also from the tags I figured out the daily quest she used to grind from 80-90 in Receptionist: She was wrangling ESTINIEN (He’s the Azure Dragoon!) the whole time]

I don’t know. I just really appreciate the way they have her become Extremely Powerful but in a way that doesn’t have to involve swords or spells.

[anneapocalypse]

There's an interesting moment with Urianger in 2.1 as the Scions are preparing to leave the Waking Sands for Mor Dhona, and we've just been told it was he who insisted they maintain ownership of the building and chose to stay and continue his research there.

Thou art ever welcome, [Forename], but I require no assistance. Pray take thy leave unburdened by concern for my well-being. Verily, thy countenance bespeaks a desire to quit this place without further delay. Hm. Mayhap thou thinkest this chapter of our tale concluded─that these halls should rightly be consigned to the annals of history...? In man's eagerness to seize the future, how readily he doth set down the past. Full many a proud pioneer hath bravely stridden into the great unknown, only to find there the banner of his ancestor, faded by the eons. And still man glorieth in his discoveries. 'Tis through his pride that wisdom doth ever give way to ignorance, while they who lurk in shadow remain hidden, lost no sooner than they are found. <sigh> Be not offended, Forename. Thy conduct hath ever been beyond reproach. Despite thy surpassing strength, and all thy many victories, thou hast never been so convinced of thine own greatness as to imagine thyself above the failings of thy forebears. Mayhap it is the Echo which hath opened thine eyes to the lessons of history. Would that the same could be said of─

He's then interrupted by Minfilia's cry at being accosted by Elidibus, and the conversation is never finished, and we never find out who he was about to mention there, as imagining themselves above the failings of their forebears.

It's not an uncommon narrative device to have a character interrupted by the very person they were about to name, and I do wonder if we're meant to infer that he was talking about Minfilia. That he is concerned she's making a mistake, that he does disapprove of the changes to the Scions taking place here, but respects Minfilia (and Alphinaud) too much to say so outright.

[redwayfarers]

survivor - for the random word generator prompt!

hello! sorry for the wait, real life got the better of me and i didn't write, but i was reading gide and this came to me like an angel, so i had to write it! if it reads like les faux monnayeurs, i'm so sorry lmao, this is why they tell you not to write immediately after reading (affectionate)

a flickering light, or a tale of two survivors

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Cassander/Stephanivien (implied), Nika/Minfilia Characters: Cassander Inteus (aka a Cass AU), Nika Perseis (WoL), Stephanivien de Haillenarte Rating: Gen Words: 1759 Spoilers: ARR patches, if you squint. dividers by @saradika

Set during early Heavensward.

The Skysteel Manufactory gets stupidly creepy at night. It’s not lit by torches or something, like some parts of the city - Stephanivien saw to that, he’s too avant-garde for torches, how dare the world not use every technological advancement ever! - and there’s a few of the lamps that go on and off, like a broken clock. Stephanivien is too busy to see that of all things, and we’re all far too enthralled by the creepiness to tell him. 

Some of us have weird tastes. 

The workshops on higher levels are a mess of metal parts, wires, cogs, magical devices and whatever the fuck machinists need. There’s a beauty in that too, in a way. It feels lived in, like a childhood bedroom you can’t yet leave even though you’re getting married tomorrow. Except that I was an adult when I first saw this room, and that I’d have no idea what a beloved childhood room would look, let alone feel like. My childhood bedroom - or the room where I spent a large part of what people call a childhood, anyways - is pristine, devoid of personality, rich, opulent. It’s a stage more than anything. Only thing remotely lived in in that whole fucking room - no, the whole shitty house - is the bright, orange pillow with Dzemael sigil sewn on it. 

It was embarrassing, packing your childhood pillow, the first time I left to spend the night in the Manufactory. But maybe I am embarrassing, deep down, so I get to keep my little pillow with me and go freeze in the messy, lived in workshops overnight. The more I got used to that, the less embarrassing it felt. 

One day, I might even go take it to Coerthas and drown in a river there. I’m sure my mother would be happier for it. She found the pillow rather tacky anyways. 

“It was very.. Kind of you to let me in,” I told Stephanivien one night, seated beside him to watch him work. His eyeshadow bore the signs of wearing, a little messy at the edges. His forehead gleamed with sweat. The lamp was dying, but he was too engrossed in his work to notice and I was too engrossed in him to tell him. 

“Kind? Cassander, your mother is an absolute bitch. Even if you weren’t as pretty as you are, I would have taken you in regardless. Between us, darling, you’re wasted in that house.” He smiled, widely. “You look much better with a gun in your hand, I will say.” 

“You will,” I laugh, looking at my hands. My cheeks were burning. “I think I like guns. Long ones in particular. Elegant. You may think I’m referring to something else, but no, I am referring to metal objects you use to shoot things with.”

“You’re funny,” Stephanivien shakes his head. “I can make you one, if you’d like. Golden, to match the pillow.” 

“My future gun has a bed now, who would’ve thought.” I reached out and grasped his gloved hand, dirty from the work. Stephanivien smiled, and it seemed brighter than the dying lamp above our heads. 

Maybe I’m also a little fond of that struggling, dying thing. I go up sometimes, when it’s cold, or rainy, or everyone’s simply too busy for me and my jobless ass, sit beneath it and look at the gun Stephanivien gave me. A nameday gift, engraved with a little dagger. It’s in pristine condition, but I clean it anyway, with all the care you afford a priceless, porcelain vase; the light flickers, on and off, but I don’t need it to see the little dagger engraving, the nooks and the crannies and the long barrel that feels like something my mother would hate. 

That, too, brings me joy. Theokleia de Dzemael hates machinists, on principle. The fact that I not only own a gun, but can shoot with it, is a kind of pleasure I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of some 5 years ago. 

This particular evening, I climb up the stairs to the workshop, coffee in hand, ready to clean it from the last practice from earlier. A curl that the goggles aren’t holding up tickles my temple, but I’ll be damned if I let my coffee spill just because of one stray piece of hair that refuses to sit still. I kick the door open. 

“I like your gun,” someone says before I can fully register them. A pair of mismatched eyes moves from the weapon to me and my coffee. “Did you also drink the last of the coffee?” 

“I’m not a coffee maniac,” I grumble, frowning. “I can’t drink all of it. What kind of question is that, for fuck’s everloving sake?” 

Nika looks at me with an equal furrow. However, that’s his MO, and mine is decidedly not. I have been known to grin maniacally once or twice. “One that needs answering.” 

The light flickers above our heads. It casts a sudden light onto his face, and shines a weak light onto the hazel eye and the scar on his nose and cheek. Ouch. His lips are pulled in a tight line, his short, black hair in disarray, a stark contrast to the finery of the clothes he’s wearing - courtesy of his hosts here in Ishgard. 

For a Warrior of Light, he is very gloomy and dark. An asshole, too. You’d think the Warrior of Light, of all people, would be a hero, but no, we’re stuck with a perpetually frowning asshole. What a joy. 

“What do you want? Move, I need that desk.” I place the overfilled cup down as roughly as I can. “There’s no fucking coffee here except the one on the table, and that’s mine.”

“I paid you a compliment,” he says, unmoving. “You could at least say thank you. You nobles should have manners.” 

“Je suis plein de gratitude. I know you paid me a compliment, but the question later made no sense so that had to be addressed first.” 

Nika looks at the gun again. He taps his fingers against the wood in a rhythm, three taps forward, one tap backward, three strong, one a glide, then in reverse. He then looks at his feet and takes a deep breath. “Minfilia is better at this sort of thing. She knows how to talk to you higher classes.” 

“Minfilia?” Who the fuck is this Minfilia woman? I readjust my goggles, and push the tickling curl away from my skin. Is she his lover, his sister? His friend? I can’t imagine him caring about anyone, including himself. From what little he’s been here in the Manufactory, a stray taken in by Stephanivien’s brightness much like me, all he did is make nonsense sentences and antagonize everyone. 

“Someone very dear to me. But she isn’t here, and neither is Alphinaud, so you’re stuck with me.” 

Alphinaud? Oh yeah, one of the other wards. The elezen kid. Whoever did his braid deserves to be fired because it’s needlessly messy and terrible. “Which would be fine, if you stopped speaking in riddles. Now can I sit, Warrior of Light, or will you clean my likeable gun for me? I’m not making you coffee.”

“In riddles? I’m not–” Nika frowns yet again. “Have your gun, whats-your-face.” 

“Cassander. Cassander de Dzemael.” 

“Cassander,” he says, like he’s testing the name. I look down at him. 

The light flickers. Something crosses his face, and his eyes look painfully vulnerable for a moment, and he’s tapping his fingers in the same rhythm again. 

“Why are you here, Nika?” I ask. I don’t know why my voice becomes so gentle. Maybe because I’m towering over him, and if I kept the hard edge, it would scare him off, not that I care about that. Maybe if I spoke gentler, he’d buck less under every question. Maybe he’d even start making sense. 

Or maybe the images of my mother’s hard voice echo in my head, like a hammer to the anvil. Now it is my turn to grip the table until my nail beds go a little pale. Her shouts and her yells, her derisive comments, her hard eyes and her pointed anger, and her looming, Halone’s ass, the looming! Do I sound like that? Do I sound as rough as she does? 

Nika’s quiet for a while. He keeps looking at his hands, rough and harsh. “That’s none of your business,” he rasps, but moves so that I could sit. “If someone needs me, they don’t know where to look.” 

I sit and take a long sip of my coffee. “Just mind the pillow, then. And try not to interrupt. This is something of a sacred ritual, you see. Halone-ordained. When you go to church, they tell you you must clean your gun or else she will smite you, or something.” 

He huffs. 

“Or so I hear,” I add with a shrug. “I’m not frequently in church.” 

The light flickers. 

“Minfilia would also laugh at that,” Nika says. I still have no idea who this Minfilia is, but she’s welcome to laugh at my jokes, wherever she is. “Will they fix the fucking thing?”

I take a sip of coffee. “Don’t think so. It’s rather cute. On and off. We all like weird things, I think, and my particular weird thing is this broken little lamp. Besides, I’m sure Stephanivien will notice at some point or another. When it dies, probably.”

“He’s the one making these guns, I’d rather he didn’t make me a faulty one,” Nika shrugs. “But if he sees, it’s whatever. It’s just annoying. You asked me earlier why I’m here. I was drawn to the gun. I think it has a nice shot.” He pauses. “I’m sure that the Fortemps family can pay for one of these.”

“Pretty sure they can, yeah. This one’s mine, though.” 

“I’m not in the habit of stealing people’s weapons.” 

I lift a brow. “Never said you were.” 

Nika shakes his head and heads for the door. The light flickers and he looks up. “Someone should really fix the damn thing,” he says, a little less angry than before. He’s then gone, tucking his waistcoat tighter for warmth, and I watch him go before he’s part of the shadows and I can take out my tools. 

We all like weird things. Some of us like long-barreled guns. Some of us like women named Minfilia, and speaking in riddles. And who knows? Maybe this broken little lamp refuses to die because it likes us, too. 

Halone works in weird fucking ways. 

[look-oc-prompts]

FFXIV New Adventurer Asks

I've not seen many ask games that dig into a WoL's experiences with MSQ, so here's the first of hopefully many that help to journal out details of their tale, starting from the very beginning. These first ones are fairly detail specific, since they highlight the character's first steps, but the rest will be a little broader. These are also more narrative focused than strictly game-quest mechanics, since realistically our WoLs could have chosen to deal with some situations quite differently!

A. The First Steps

What culture were you raised in, and how connected to it do you feel?

What inspired you to travel, or become an adventurer? Did you set out alone, or with friends/family, or even pet(s)?

What was your first impression of the three major City-States, Ul'dah, Limsa Lominsa, and Gridania? Did these change over time?

Do you feel any particular way about the tavernkeepers, their help in directing you to jobs and the kind of jobs they gave you, and the free lodging they offer?

What was your first impression of your job mentor(s) and companions (whether canon npc or headcanon), whatever profession(s) you started with? Did these change over time?

Which Scion(s) did you meet first and how did you initially feel about them?

How did you feel about your visions of Hydaelyn and her charge to defeat the Dark?

How painful is the Echo to you? Do you appreciate the insight it offers, or is it more uncomfortable, emotionally or physically? Does this change over time?

How did you feel about the Shadowy Figure sending monsters after you, and learning that he was a powerful threat to the city-states? Were you initially motivated to help stop him and stay involved, why or why not?

What did you wear to the High Society gathering, in addition to the culture-specific shoes, mask, or jewelry provided to you? Were you excited to be invited/recognized, or not?

Did you accept the city leader's request to deliver letters to the other heads of state in the Eorzean Alliance? Did you appreciate this task of Envoy, feel belittled by it, or something else? Did you agree with the idea to plan a service in memory of Carteneau?

B. Building a Reputation

Did any (early level) side quests have a particular impact on you? Did you make a habit of helping people with 'adventurer' work, why or why not?

Who did you take with you into Sastasha, or did you enter alone? Did you try to subdue all the pirates, or sneak past them when possible, or something else? Did you find and free the slaves locked up in the side caves? Did you have an opinion on the cowardly captain? The sahagin ambush?

Who did you take with you into Tam-Tara Deepcroft, or did you enter alone? How did you feel about the Lambs of Dalamud worshipping the fallen moon, and summoning voidsent to take vengeance on Eorzeans who opposed it? Did the magic used to seal each ring of the crypt confuse you, or did you know enough about the arcane to dispel them easily? How did you handle the dark, musty passageways, the creatures, voidsent, and homicidal cultists lurking around?

Who did you take with you into Copperbell Mines, or did you enter alone? How did you feel about the twisting mineshafts, rickety elevators, and sheer drops inside the caves? How did you feel about the Giants, did you attack first or try to reason with them? Did you character learn the buried history of the mine - that magic was used to enslave the Giants and they eventually rebelled, leading the Sultanate of Ul'dah to collapse the lower tunnels 300 years ago, trapping them inside?

How did you feel about being invited to join the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? Did you travel to the Waking Sands to hear their pitch? What was your initial impression of Minfilia, and her reveal that she also had the Echo? What did you make of the rest of the Scions?

What did you make of Minfilia's insistence that your Echo was the key to solving the primal problem in Eorzea, and her belief that this was the most serious danger to the city-states? Did you know much about primals beforehand?

Overall, how were you feeling by the time you first agree to go wither the wild rose blooms?

[myreia]

wip wednesday

tagged by @lilas, ty beloved! 💕 tagging @roguelioness @tsunael @fourteenthz @ardberts

@birues @impossible-rat-babies @galadae @thevikingwoman uhhh so this fic which was supposed to be a quick prompt has spiralled and is now a three-parter. anyway. ARR setting, aur just joined the scions and what should be a happy moment is devolving in her and thancred having a fight disagreement. she's prickly and dragging her trauma around like someone in an airport who packed an excessive amount of luggage she's fine she's fine she's fine.

“You certainly know how to make an exit,” a familiar voice behind her says.

Aureia stiffens. No matter how frustrated she is with him, she can’t stop the little bubble of hope from rising in her chest. That he came to find her in the midst of everything means something she can’t put a finger on. “I needed some air,” she replies.

Thancred chuckles. “And, once again, I cannot fault you for having the right idea. A touch suffocating down there, is it not? I daresay Minfilia could do with some sun, but alas, she is as glued to her work as Urianger is to his books.”

The bubble pops. “Bookworm, is he?”

“You could say in abundance, aye. Incorrigible scholars, the lot of us. Fervour for knowledge and understanding knows no bounds for the typical Sharlayan, but for archons? Consider its intensity thrice fold.”

The lot of us… She hates how the phrase stands out to her. He has never spoken so candidly of his origins—or the people involved in them—before. For all the months they have known each other, he has been tight-lipped about his involvement with this organization. Perhaps he didn’t trust her yet. Perhaps he did but was instructed not to tell her. Regardless, it would be hypocritical to blame him for that, gods know she has kept a number of her own secrets, and yet this irks her. After all these months in Ul’dah, considering him a close friend…

It hits like a slap to the face.

“You never said you were from Sharlayan,” she says.

He shrugs. “I’m not.”

“Then where?”

He nods in the direction of the sea. “You’re looking at it—or in the direction of it, more like.”

“Then how…? Never mind.” Folding her arms, she shoots him a glance, her gaze lingering on the marks on his neck. She had wondered about the symbols, but never struck up the courage to ask him. “Do those make you an expert in aetherology, too?”

“No. I assure you, my area of expertise is not so abstract.”

“Not so abstract, hm?” she prods, trying to keep a straight face. “I wonder what that could mean. Of all the subjects that could attract your eye, what would you choose?”

He catches her eye, an amused smile on his lips, and bows theatrically. “My lips are sealed, fair lady, and you will never guess.”

“Unfortunate. I shall have to defer to process of elimination, then.”

“Oh?”

“I know what it isn’t. Music and bardship for one. Philandering, for another.”

He wheezes. “Oof,” he says with a painful wince. “I’m no stranger to low blows, but I didn’t expect one from you.”

She grins. “You should know better by now.”

“I should.” He returns her grin, hazel eyes bright in the seaside sun. Her playful jibes never seem to bother him; if anything, he seems to enjoy it. She has a sneaking suspicion that he sets himself up on purpose. “But enough of me. Here you are. Vesper Bay. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Now you know the truth of it.”

A lump forms in her throat. Nothing has changed between them—if anything, one could argue that they can only grow closer because of this—and yet she feels so unsettled. She would give anything to be back in Ul’dah, walking the Gold Court or wandering the Sapphire and Ruby Exchanges, moving to the rhythms of the city. She could talk with him about anything then. Now, out here in Vesper Bay, she feels… limited.  

Stuck.

“Here I am,” she murmurs. “And here you are.”

“I am glad for it. And I am glad that you and Minfilia have had the opportunity to meet. She has been so eager. Charmed, one could say, by the tales of your exploits. I may have overexaggerated certain events in the moment, and before you give me that look, I can say it was all in good faith and spirited storytelling—”

Aureia bites her tongue.

“But all that aside, you should get some rest. We have quite the task ahead of us. And I do believe it would do you well to get to know the others. You should speak with Y’shtola when the opportunity arises. I am certain she would appreciate it.”

The suggestion chafes. “Why?”

“Overlapping interests, for one. And I suspect you will get along well, for another. I can think of no mage as well-versed in the practice of arcane arts as she, save for Papalymo. I’m sure she can provide a guiding thought or three.”

“You think I need help? More training? Better training?”

“I—” He pauses, caught off guard by her tone. “Certainly not. I merely thought—”

“Because right now you’re implying I do.”

“That was not my intent.”

“I’m sorry my non-Sharlayan education doesn’t live up to the standards set by Minfilia’s brave and noble souls. Then again I don’t need tattoos on my neck to tell the world I have mastery.”

“And I know where your talents lie. I’ve seen them first-hand. You have nothing to prove, not to Minfilia, not to the others, and certainly not to me. You do not need to be an archon to have a place with us.”

Aureia forces back a grimace, her jaw clenching painfully. On any other day his words would be comforting, but here and now they fill her with dread. Anxieties creep across her mind, irrational and persistent, their spiderlike touch feeding her discomfort. 

“Then tell me this honestly, yes or no. Would I be here at all if not for the Echo?”

The question is blunt. Forceful. She’s given him no room to maneuver, no way to escape. There is only one way to answer this.

Thancred closes his eyes. “No,” he says finally. “I do not believe that would be the case. It is the gift that sets you apart. It is what caught my attention. Without it, you would not be here, for without it—and a long line of other convoluted coincidences—we would never have met.”

A lump forms in her throat. “And I’d be just another adventurer on the streets of Ul’dah.”

“Aye. I suspect as much.”

A wave crashes against the dock, throwing up a spray of salt and water. Aureia turns away, her eyes stinging. She can feel Thancred’s gaze on her, watching closely.

“That is not the answer you wished to hear, was it,” he says.

It’s not a question.

She wets her lower lip and tastes brine. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Would you have preferred I lied?”

“No—”

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry!” She turns sharply, rounding on him, and meets his eyes. Most would step away from the look she gives him, but not him. He knows her well enough not to be intimidated. Not that he was ever intimidated by her. And judging from his expression, just as she is unwilling to put up with his bullshit, so he is with hers. “I am...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Seems to me the word you are looking for is angry.”

She curses.

He smiles.

“Don’t,” she says bluntly. “Just… don’t. Please. I’m not in the mood for this.”

[autumnslance]

Thancred & Louisoix

From the tags on another post, there was commentary about "cute art but" and then spoke of a perspective being Louisoix "kidnapped" Thancred, sent him to spy training but not Studium, claimed there were no provisions made for him nor that Louisoix developed the same close relationships with Thancred as with Papalymo or Urianger, and then Thancred nearly destroys himself trying to live up to expectations they felt Louisoix had set.

While it IS a possible perspective, I dunno that it's one I personally agree with, even if one has a less-charitable view of the old Leveilleur patriarch. Everything in "One Name, One Promise" (Thancred's "Tales from the Shadows" short story on the official Lodestone site) indicates that Louisoix gave Thancred a choice in coming to Sharlayan, after noting the boy's skills and potential, the first person who ever did.

Skills and abilities he already had learned through sheer survival, and were then honed and turned to a better use than picking pockets and sneak-thiefing, showing the kid there was a better way. And even as a Gunbreaker, Thancred's always seemed quite proud of his infiltration skills.

Y'shtola wasn't sent to the Studium either; she was directly apprenticed to a Master, as Thancred was, and as indicated in "Secret in the Box", the Thancred-centric backstory side quest in Old Sharlayan in Endwalker, several others were apprenticed as well. Not everyone who attends the Studium does become an Archon--the rest of the Leveilleur family, for instance, are also all graduates of that institute.

In a nation that is built around education and knowledge, they are going to know there's more than one right way to learn, as everyone is different and so to are their paths to success. And not everyone goes on to get their doctorates, which Archon seems equivalent to--you have to want that level, as it's a lot. Alisaie in Shadowbringers patches mentions her thesis for graduation was onerous enough, an Archon one sounded like too much.

Thancred wears his marks on his neck. A proof to himself as much or more than others of his worth, perhaps. Dude has a lot of hangups; is infamous for them, really. And sets his own expectations on his worth.

In ARR, especially in the scene after Ifrit, Minfilia is obviously weary of Thancred's self-recriminations. Any idea that he has to be better and live up to an ideal seem entirely his own, that no one else--even those other close apprentices--seem to have been left with themselves. It's part of Thancred's own personality thanks to his very different background from his peers.

In Shadowbringers, during the time in Twine trying to get the trolley sorted out, Thancrd himself notes that he had a father figure in Loiusoix--he was just too stubborn and hurt as a youth to realize it yet. Which indicates to me, at least, that Louisoix probably didn't push Thancred's boundaries.

In fact, Thancred spends a lot of time in that section of 5.0 MSQ talking about what a callow, foolish youth he was, how he didn't realize what he DID have, until it was far too late. His struggle in ShB is his old, unresolved traumas conflicting with his present feelings and situation once again, making it difficult for him to accept he HAS found love, family, safety, etc. and finally dealing with that--culminating in a cathartic battle with his nemesis to protect his family.

And even then, all the way through 5.3, it's still hard for Thancred to say what he feels out loud, publicly. It's just not easy for him. He's opened up slightly more in EW, but still edges around a bit.

What Thancred says specifically in the ShB quest "The Truth Hurts":

Thancred: I grew up an orphan, so I never really knew what family meant. Thancred: Not until I met a man who offered to take me in and make me his pupil. He was a kindly soul. Always looking out for me, like a father. Not that I appreciated that at the time, or anything else for that matter… Thancred: But I finally had a family. And then…and then I robbed a young girl of hers.

(and then of course still blames himself for what happened to Warburton and Minfilia despite everything Thancred DID do for them...)

Anyway. I've spent a lot of time studying their relationship, back when I wrote Rogue's Prelude and in new lore released since then, to see what, if anything, contradicts. And in everything I came across, the only one who didn't consciously realize what family he's had the entire time, is Thancred himself; he couldn't dare to call it that. It's a much more recent revelation for him, even as he strove to prove his worth and take on the role of protector and fill those shoes, given his own over-developed sense of responsibility to the people in his life.

Since it's a longer passage (and this got wordy enough), the lines from "One Name, One Promise" are under the cut (as external links so far as I know kill post visibility).

The elderly Elezen whom he chose as his mark had other ideas, however. No sooner had the boy lifted a hand than he found himself flat on his back, his limbs bound by powerful magicks. A short life in gaol beckoned, or perhaps a quick death.

And then the strangest thing happened. The man took him by the hand, led him to a quiet corner away from the bustling crowds, looked him straight in the eye and said, “My name is Louisoix Leveilleur. I am a scholar from across the seas. What is your name, child?”

“Thancred,” the boy mumbled, still in disbelief.

“Thancred...what? Have you any family?” the old man continued, with a sympathetic smile.

“Just Thancred,” the boy shrugged. “And I don’t have a family—at least, none that I know of.”

The man who had called himself Louisoix paused for a moment, stroking his beard, before appearing to come to a conclusion.

“You are quick and able beyond your years. Were you only in a place where you could learn to use these gifts for the good of all, rather than merely as tools for your own survival—why, there is no telling what life you might lead...”

Thancred listened in silence, his frown speaking volumes. It’s not as if I chose this, you know. But Louisoix responded with a sad-yet-knowing smile, and the words that would change the boy’s life forever.

“Come with me to Sharlayan. You are a gifted child, and there is much that I would teach you...”

And so it was that Thancred’s new life began.

To commemorate the occasion, Thancred was to claim the surname of “Waters.” Such flourishes had been unnecessary on the Lominsan streets, but would be indispensable in more respectable locales. Thancred chafed at first, not keen to declare his lowly heritage to all and sundry, but Master Louisoix would brook no opposition. “Thaliak, guardian of rushing rivers and purveyor of knowledge,” the sage mused. “A lad such as yourself could do far worse for a protector.” And so Thancred grudgingly accepted the name he would come to wear with pride.

Louisoix also found a suitable mentor for the child—an old hand in covert operations who would train Thancred to follow in his printless footsteps. Sharlayan was a society that valued knowledge and expertise in all forms, and shadowy agents were not shunned as disreputable rogues, but respected as key contributors to the nation. It was in such a capacity that Louisoix hoped the boy might excel and find his true calling.

Stunned as he was at this turn of events, Thancred was no fool. He understood the future Louisoix envisioned for him, and endeavored to do all he could to meet his patron’s expectations. He honed his body that he might infiltrate the most impregnable of strongholds in the harshest of environments, and his mind that he might charm the wariest merchants and socialites in the most critical of circumstances.

Before he knew it, the streetwise child of the Lominsan alleyway was no more. In his place stood a confident youth who could pose as anyone’s friend and confidant long enough to procure the knowledge his client demanded.

A short while later, Thancred’s surpassing skills were recognized, and upon his skin was inscribed the sigil of an Archon. When Louisoix gazed upon this mark, he could scarce contain his joy. The boy he had personally led out of penury and taken under his wing had realized his potential.

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2023 - 27. Sole Characters: Karasawa Atraxae, Scions of the Seventh Dawn Rating: Teen Summary: The last of her people Notes: It's been a while since I've checked in with Hydaelyn's misbegotten worst bestie

Except for Minfilia, every single member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn looked to be some flavor of flabbergasted. Urianger had his head ducked down so far all one could see were his goggles, as he tilted his head and absently poked his temple with his fingers. Yda had her hands on her hips, and was just shaking her head back and forth, which was funny, as that was what she'd expected of Papalymo. Papalymo however was just frowning at her. Y'shtola's ears were down and back, which she'd learned meant irritation, and her arms were crossed. Thancred was leaning against a wall, and it seemed the floor had his entire attention.

Honestly, this was going great, by the usual standards of one of her presentations.

Y'shtola was the first to speak, not to her, but to Minfilia. "We are meant to believe that we have before us a singular specimen of one of the paragons of eld? And you believe her?"

"I do," said Minfilia. "Her understanding of the Echo exceeds my own, even if she's not very good at explaining the details. And when she spoke to me in her native tongue, I got a sense of something more, something missing, yet familiar. It reminded me of Hydaelyn."

"And how do we know she's on our side, hmm?" asked Papalymo. "A real life Ascian in our midst and we're just going to trust that she's on our side?"

"I don't know about all this," said Yda. "But I don't think she's like that, Papalymo. Think about everything she's done for us so far."

"Indeed. Enough to string us along until we're fit to let our guard down, then she can whisk us away in the night and leave the realm defenseless against its enemies!"

"Praythee, it behooves us to not be so swift to judge," said Urianger. "If that were her intent, it surely would be in her best interest to continue the ruse."

"Unless she thought us about to figure it out ourselves. Or perhaps we're just about fit for harvest!" said Papalymo.

Karasawa looked over at Thancred, the only one who hadn't spoken yet, but all he did was look back at her before turning away again. She rolled her head back and looked at the ceiling, rolling her tongue in her cheek, before she stuck a finger in the air.

The room fell silent as they all looked to her.

"One, not a paragon," she said. "Pretty sure the blokes you're callin' paragons are the nutters who've decided that since everythin' has gone to shite they can just pick up a convocation seat."

"A matter you have not explained to us in any detail for that designation to be of any use for this discussion," said Y'shtola.

"Ask me later. Two, I don' know what an Ascian is either, but I'm not one o' them. The bloke callin' himself Lahabrea said some shite in a language I don't know and then bloody just wandered off back to his hells. I think they may've come after my kind, but before your kind. Kinds."

"Which begs the question," said Y'shtola, "Of how you have survived until this age, if you are as old as you claim."

"Oh sweet I thought you'd never ask-"

"Before this conversation too badly loses its way," interrupted Minfilia. "I will not tell any of the rest of you want to think or how to feel. However, she has told me her tale, and I do not doubt its veracity, only its usefulness. It would seem that she finds our world much changed from what she remembers, and the Ascians are as unfamiliar to her as they are to us, save for the names they have chosen to adopt."

"Which brings me to three. Th' only reason I said anythin' at all is because when that Lahabrea spoke, I could feel the teek."

The Scions all looked at each other.

"Pray forgive us our ignorance, but whilst the Echo bridges many a gap in understanding, that word it seems evades it," said Urianger.

"Nor was she able to explain to me, but I understand some of it. It seems to be a sense her people had, one which we lack," said Minfilia.

Papalymo looked thoughtful, putting a hand to his chin. "If we are to take her at her word, that does raise some interesting questions. Were our forebears in fact the Highlanders in some form, then?"

"Oh, that'd be neat! It'd practically make us cousins!" said Yda. "Though it doesn't explain much or well where anyone else came from, does it?"

"No, I suppose it wouldn't. A mystery our friend can perhaps unravel, hmn?" prodded Papalymo.

Karasawa looked at them blankly, and Thancred cleared his throat. "You're a Highlander," he said shortly.

"Oh, shite, this? Yeaaaaah... this. No, uhm, right, so, part of the tooling I used to live this long also adapted me - the FOCUS projects your soul through the IDEA engine and the SWORD then takes all that and glues it all right so you stay together-like."

Everyone was now looking at her like she'd grown another head, and she waved them off.

"Look, I didn't look like THIS back then, okay? In fact, none of you look, uh, look... I was gonna say none of you look right but that'd be an arsehole thing to say. Look! Look. Look look look. My people, the people, none of you looked like us. I mean, the Elezen blokes get kinnae close? They at least got the proportions right, but their faces are way too narrow and we didn' have those keen knife ears."

Papalymo turned red and Yda coughed into her hand.

Urianger cleared his throat. "Mistress Atraxae, if I may?"

Karasawa waved a hand in his direction.

"Thine words are oft considered a pejorative in our current clime. I would impress upon thee to perhaps avoid speaking 'knife-ear' to mine people if you wish to not offend."

"Och, that's good to know. Ah, mine apologies, Urianger; I meant none offense. Though, ah, assumin' I do mean offense, how awful is it, scale of one to ten?"

Thancred barked a laugh. It sounded mean, somehow, and Karasawa shot him a glare.

"Ah, perhaps if thou wishes insult, thy should endeavor to tailor thine words to thine opponent, and not to their entire kind? It would strengthen the power of thine vitriol and rob them of easy defense."

"Oh shite that's good advice."

Urianger beamed at her while Y'shtola closed her eyes, her ears somehow managing to go even further back. "Urianger, we should not be encouraging her already crass ways any further."

"Apologies, Lady Y'shtola. I shall do so in private from hence on."

Y'shtola was now glaring at him, while he gave her a cheeky grin in response.

Gods dammit she liked these people. But also, this was tiring.

"Alright well s'all good fun I'ms sure you've all got a bazillion questions for me so maybe write 'em down I'm going to go pal around a bit and maybe find some decent bloody food," said Karasawa, slapping her knees as she came to her feet.

"I do not think it wise-" "Now wait just a moment!" "Aw, but I wanted to-"

"Enough," said Minfilia, and the room fell silent. "None of us can scarce imagine what she has been through, what this must be like for her. Karasawa, we will give you your peace, of course. But please be understanding if we have questions for you."

"Understandin', yup, that's me, the very soul of understandin'" said Karasawa breezily as she headed for the door. She stuck her tongue out at Y'shtola as she left.

She wasn't sure why. It just seemed like the thing to do.

And she also gave Thancred a glare.

Again, she wasn't sure why, but something was bothering her there, and it was irritating in ways she could not put words too.

Urianger stepped up to walk alongside her. "Might I accompany you?" he asked.

He'd been consistently decent to her, even in this stupid meeting.

"Sure. You know a decent food stall around here?"

"Forsooth."

"...you picked that word on purpose."

He grinned. "I thought it might amuse thee."

She grinned back and gave him the lightest slug-tap in the shoulder.

"But aye. There is a traveling merchant well known for delights from the new world. I hope the thematic irony is not lost on thee, but if it is, then I hope the delights of such a thing will not be."

"Sure, let's check it out."

It was an easy lunch. And he was right about the food stall. Karasawa had no idea what this 'new world' was. The eddies of resonance suggested ideas of another continent, far away, not easily travelled to. But the food was a delight. Some kind of dark meat, shredded and spiced. Some sort of creamy sauce, cool and refreshing. Lettuce, at least they still had lettuce, and tomatoes and onion, and all the vegetables were raw as compared to the tendency of the locals to cook everything. All wrapped up in an easy to carry edible package.

She missed chupaquesos something fierce.

And the entire time, Urianger was quiet, and Karasawa, who usually wouldn't shut up if she could help it, found the silence oddly comfortable. They ate down by the edge of the bay, watching the ships sail in and out of the dock.

Well, that's probably what Urianger was watching, it was hard to guess with those goggles of his. She was watching the dock workers and their burly muscles as they moved things around and tied ships to the moor.

It was mesmerizing. Her own people did almost no manual labor, having either magick or beasts of creation to do the work for them. She felt a sense of pang and loss, but also a sense of something that had always been absent but now being filled. There was something amazing about watching people just work. Bodies in motion were magic.

She loved it here, she hated it here.

"Pray forgive my comrades," said Urianger, as he wiped his hands clean of lunch. "Thine revelation upends a great many assumptions and puts lie to many particularities of our assumed history."

"Shite. It's whatever. I'm a weird fish outta nowhere. I'd be skeptical too. Like, swive me, right? The sole survivor of a hellscape apocalypse? And like, Ascians. Whatever we bloody did, it made Ascians, and they not only wanna make another apocalypse, but they've done so, what, six times?"

"Seven full."

"Yeah seven. As if the first one wasn't enough. I wasn't even around for it and I hate it. Bloody hells, Urianger."

She sighed. "Wish Karasawa was here."

Urianger tilted her head at him, and she waved a hand in the air. "M' just Atraxae. Karasawa was my best mate back home. You all have two names it seems, so I borrowed his, that's all."

"Ah. 'Best mate'? Might I inquire further?"

"He was good at shite I wasn't. Thinkin' shite through. He was the one who did all the soul magicks for us, I was better with th' physical concepts and whatnot. He did living things, I did automated things. We worked well together. Also, he was, like, one of the few people who was decent to me more n' not. Didn't just write me off for bein' a bloody weirdo."

She looked at Urianger. "Sorta like you. 'Preciate that, by the by."

"Think nothing of it. I share not the skepticism of your origins that mine comrades hold, because I believe that thou couldst not be bothered to lie even if it should serve thy ends. And I also know much of what it is like to be seen as... a 'bloody weirdo'."

Karasawa laughed.

"Well, I may be the sole survivor who didn't go and get themselves upended into a crystal or worse, but at least I'm not alone, hey?"

Urianger nods. "So what shall thee do, now?"

"Dunno. Stick around, I guess. Bestie said... guide, guard, help. Well, you lot seem to have the first one down pat, least I can do is that last one. Dunno about -guarding-, but hells if I don't have a -hella- big sword."

Urianger laughed. "We all serve in our particular ways, my lady."

"Yeah. Shite. Good food stall. Wanna go back?"

"They will want to ask thee a great many questions upon thine return."

"Yeah. I expected as much," she sighed, and shrugged. "Might as well get it over with."

"Then I shall accompany thee, and if thy wish, remain at thine side."

"That'd be great."

He nodded, and they both got up, and headed back to the Waking Sands, together.

[dawnslight-aegis]

5. barbarous

Kaede could still hear, almost twenty years after the last time she’d seen him, the sneer in her father’s voice when he spoke of “savage, barbarous warmongers” – nothing had provoked the Hannish-born alchemist’s ire more than a people who did not shy away from violence. Other Eorzean children were raised on tales of the brutality of the Amal’jaa, the Sahagin, or the Ixals. Meanwhile Kaede’s childhood morality tales often featured the likes of the xaela, the people of Ala Mhigo, or horror of horrors, the Ishgardians, who would sooner murder a person with scales than look at them.

Every single step she had taken beyond the bounds of New Sharlayan had served to prove Zamair bin Anvari wrong, again and again and again.

His stories about the Steppe War melted away into nothingness as Cirina handed her a fresh buuz, as Temulun looked into her eyes and declared her traveler, as Marz sang softly to a group of xaela children under the stars. Magnai and Sadu were dangerous foes, yes, and perhaps even more dangerous friends, but better their ferocity than the indolence of the raen of Sui-no-Sato, who in thinking themselves safe, cared not at all for any people besides their own.

When she thought of Ala Mhigo, she thought of her stepfather’s hand, reaching down into the darkness of the pirate ship where she and her mother had been trapped; she thought of Raubahn, clapping her on the shoulder and smiling, calling her lass, Captain, Warrior of Light; she thought of Minfilia’s quiet strength and Lyse’s growing confidence, and friendship forged over tea and lemoncakes. The Autumn War and Theodoric’s cruelty were distant memories, replaced by the yearning for home and freedom.

And Ishgard… Cold, and insular, and untrusting, yes, but also her refuge and safe harbor. Ishgard was the stone walls of home around her, repelling both blizzard and dragonflame; was a warm cup of hot cocoa handed to her by her last ally in the realm; was a lance aimed at the heart of her enemies and guarding her back; was a gloved hand in hers, holding tightly and never letting go, no matter how far she traveled from his side.

If they were barbarous then so too was she, and her ruthlessness had saved full as many lives as her mercy. Perhaps more. All while the man who sired her cowered in his white city, and the skies across Etheirys burned. But she would save him, too, whether he willed it or not.

[brineffxiv]

I feel so sad for F'lhaminn; she had only just reunited with Minfilia when she was stolen away. Now she has to face that her daughter isn't even alive anymore in a different world. It's all so unfair. I am amazed she doesn't seem to carry a shred of bitterness in her heart.

Oh no. Corporeal aether is the stuff that makes up their bodies, right? If that's becoming unstable... And you say it's getting worse in the order that they were summoned? That tracks with it being caused by their souls not being in their bodies.

Not good.

Hah, I forgot that you knew G'raha when he was a member of the Students of Baldesion. Must be hard to reconcile the impetuous young man you remember with the esteemed Exarch you've heard tales about. He's had over a century in the First to mature and grow, not to mention however long he lived in his original timeline (I know it took two hundred years to bring Cid's plans for time travel to fruition, but I don't think it was ever said how much of that G'raha was awake for? Only that he awoke after Cid had passed away).

A summary? Uh, okay. So y'all are like balloons, and the string tethering you to the ground is fraying, and we really don't want to find out what happens when you float away.

Well that, at least, is reassuring.

My friend, far be it for me to contradict you, but I think there is more to being a gifted mage than simply having the raw power for the spells. I would wager that it also takes quite a bit of ingenuity and skill to execute the damn things.

I am glad to hear it.

No! Don't you dare-

HAH! Ah, I am so glad I caught part of that. Go Alisaie. Show G'raha we're not supporting him killing himself to save everyone else.

Yeah! Wait. No. That's not what I...

Ha haaa.....

(Okay, tangent, but like. Yeah, I have totally noticed how... there's a lot of people, on both the Source and the First, who revere me in the way one might a God. And we know what Gods are in this world: primals. So like, theoretically, could this belief in me be used to summon a "me" in primal form? A "Warrior of Light" primal? Or, Warrior of Darkness, as the case may be? Further, could I summon the power of my own primal incarnation into myself à la Shiva? Food for thought...)

Oh, okay, compare and contrast?

Oh, you're right.

Okay, I mean, I knew this, but I LOVE that the game is using what is a necessary gameplay feature (allowing you to have your same inventory and equipment across both stars) as a pivotal plot feature. This isn't the first time it's done that - everything to do with Feo Ul springs to mind - but the fact they're actually drawing attention to it and using it!! I just! Beautiful.

Cool cool, we'll just turn you all into rocks and I'll carry you home. Excellent plan.

That's a scary looking Nu Mou. I didn't know that was possible. Alright, off we go then...

[jefarawol]

“Why don't you tell us what happened after you left us in Azys Lla?” Alphinaud asked, his face full of concern and trepidation, she could see he was eager to learn the truth of Estinien’s fate, as painful as it would be for her to recount it.

“Alright, after…” She struggled for a moment, unable to say the name she had been avoiding. “Estinien gave me the eye, I went through the teleporter. It took me over to the gamma quadrant, almost as soon as I stepped off Midgardsomr came to me.” There was a collective mumbling around the room, not a single person had known of her covenant, the only soul she had told had been Minfilia. “Midgardsormr? How?” Thancred was the one able to voice the question. She sighed, the time finally arriving to come clean. “I guess there's no point hiding it now.” she began. “But I had been traveling with Midgardsomr for some time at that point. Ever since I confronted him on the wreckage of the Agrius and he stripped my blessing of light.” “He what?” Alphinaud stared at her incredulously, “How could he do such a thing!?” “Of course, that's when your eyes changed back…” pondered Y’shtola, Jefara nodded at her correct assumption. “You said it was nothing to worry about but Minfilia assured us it was just your power settling. Why would he take it from you?”

“To test me. He thought it took too much from the grace she gave me. If I was to fight, I would do so alone.” She took a steadying breath as the air seemed to thicken around her. “Since we came here, I began to break through, restoring my crystals of light much like I had done when I had earnt her blessing in the beginning.” 

She began to list them, remembering each one as she did.

“Our parlay with Ysayle, slaying Tioman, then Nidhogg, Bismarck and then when we retrieved the book from the Gubal Library.”

“That's five, there were six no?” Alphinaud questioned, she could see he too was recalling the journey they had taken. She nodded again before continuing. “The last happened on the gamma quadrant, unsealed by a mere conversation with the creature who lived and suffered in that place: Tiamat.” Silence fell over them all. “Another of Midgardsomrs seven sired. The mate of Bahamut, chained and enslaved by allagans following the summoning of his primal form. That's why he had come to me, to speak to her and learn from her. To hear what her grief and sorrow had turned her into.”

She could feel the tears in her eyes threaten as she remembered Tiamat’s words, how she had wished not to feel the eternal heartache of losing one you loved to darkness. Now she did know.

“With my blessing restored, our covenant was broken and upon his back I flew to the flagship and into the Research facility.”

“All that time a dragon was living in Ishgard?” She could hear the disbelief in Artoirel's voice. “In a sense, yes,” she confirmed. “Bound to my soul watching and observing our deeds when needed.” She dared to glance around the room at them all. Aymeric and Edmont both masked themselves well, their faces unreadable, well practiced in keeping their emotions in check.

Her fellow Scions all looked wide eyed and her apa took in the tale with deep breaths unsure of how to handle the incredible journey his child had walked thus far. “Where was I?” “The Flagship.” Alphinaud supplied helpfully. “Right,” she took another breath. “First I encountered Reguls van Hydra who fled again after battle. They had been unsuccessful in chasing down the Archbishop but I kept going, until I reached the centre reactor.” Again she felt the tension rising as she reached what everyone was anxious to hear. “But it wasn't the Archbishop I found.” They were all silent. “It was the Ascian I encountered after Bismark, Igeyorhm. And she wasn’t alone.” “Lahabrea…” Thancred’s voice growled as he said the name, she knew it was not easy for him to speak of his time under the Ascians influence, but she hoped he might find some closure to what she would say next. “They're dead.” There was a small gasp from Alphinaud. “Permanently.”

  “I fought against them.” She spoke directly to Thancred, his attention trained fervently on her. “They fused together into what they called Ascian Prime and when the battle was won in my favour, I was able to seal Igeyorhm with the white auracite. The one Urianger had found in Moenbryda’s possessions and then I shattered it with the power of Nidhogg’s eye.”

“But you had only one auracite,” Y’shtola mused. “So how did-?” Tataru wondered beside her.

“Well, before either of us could ponder our next move. The Archbishop and the Heavensward made their appearance.” She turned her gaze now to Aymeric. “Carrying a coffin between them. Inside was the preserved body of Ser Haldrath, the first Azure dragoon.” “Preserved how?” Barham asked, looking up from his hands.

“With the other of Nidhogg’s Eyes.” She paused again and steeled herself. “The Archbishop took it, its aether source infused with a thousand years of ishgardians prayers-” “No…” Aymeric cut in, as realization dawned on him. “It’s not possible.” “He became a primal!?” Y’shtola gasped, reaching the same conclusion. “Yes.” A single tear dropped from her eyes. “And he struck Lahabrea out of existence without a trap.” She could feel her resolve wavering, but there was still much to be said, she pressed on knowing if she stopped now she may never find the courage to keep going. “He said he was going to end the war. The war Estinien and I had already ended. Innocent lives, not just Ishgardian but Dravanian too were nothing to him. He knew I would fight. And so he bid me follow.” She felt the pressure crushing her now, words were becoming a struggle, 

“That's when Estinien caught up with me.” She took a shuddering breath. “How he made it to the flag ship I don't know but that's not important.” 

“Together we chased down the Archbishop and the Heavensward, all of them taken by their own primal forms. The ones we had seen in the Vault. They all fell to us. Every single one. And when it was all over only one remained alive barely clinging to life…”

[lavampira]

13, 16, 22, 23, + 30 for the wol questions? 🩷

[wol questions]

ty beloved!! 🖤

13. are they close with any of the other scions? who do they get along with the best?

minfilia and shtola were her closest confidantes in ARR, and shtola continues to be now, both of them academic-minded and inquisitive and caring in an outwardly detached way that works for them well. thancred was someone she struggled to get along with being too similar to each other’s stubborn and repressed qualities for a long time, but he’s become an older brother figure to her. the twins are baby siblings to her that she lovingly pesters and encourages in equal measure. raha and estinien are her closest friends, though, but for different reasons - raha is her soulmate if she’s ever had one, their lives so intertwined through distance and time, and his gentle insistence at being by her side as an equal to experience adventures and share her burdens while she encourages him to find his place as a scion now that he’s survived beyond his sacrifices and remind that he is an equal to her; estinien is a quiet support where he is always, always believing and trusting in her and willing to lend his lance when she needs, and she tries to be the same for him, simply two friends who know each other well and can coexist without needing to talk at times.

16. what does your WoL do to relax? what sorts of distractions do they seek? do they foster any bad habits as a result?

she goes home to decompress; whether to see her parent, sid and rielle, or her island, there’s something about returning to the sanctuary and comfort of not having to be the warrior of light, but just d’alia, the person. little trips into nature as well, pocketing plants for her scrapbook journal. makes herself a bunch of comfort foods. pretty much seeks quiet and solitude as distractions, nothing really wild, but it does make her a little reclusive and cagey for a time not wanting to be around people when she’s emotionally unstable and repressing it.

22. do you have a unique tale for their job class or is it pretty much like what it is in the game?

for the most part, her jobs are the same as they are in game, though I made her a novice arcanist ahead of joining the guild, and bumped her meeting troupe falsiam in kugane instead of during their eorzean tour. I do headcanon that her drk soul crystal holds more resonance with the real fray’s memories and part of his soul weaved with “fray”/esteem, given how potent a dark knight’s emotions are and the violence in his death that would leave an impression, and the fuckery involved with the crystal, too.

23. are there any side quest storylines that you're particularly fond of or think of as being canon to your WoL's experiences?

BIG BIRD CRASHING THROUGH THE DOOR DOT GIF

the firmament & ishgardian restoration quests!! it’s a lighter way to bond with francel after both of them taking haurchefant’s death hard, but also how she spends her time after the dragonsong war, helping to rebuild the place that’s become not only sanctuary but a real sense of home to her. also tales from the dragonsong war that recaps the HW journey and brings more closure about haurchefant and ysayle for her. that whole side questline with the saint mocianne’s dungeons since she’s a botanist as well.

some of the custom deliveries quests: the orphanage in idyllshire, the widows and orphans fund in rhalgr’s reach, assisting ameliance with supplies for the studium, and helping anden remember who he is with the pixies’ help.

some of the tribal quests as well: the moogles rebuilding zenith; not the full thing for the ananta, but the lead-up during the unlock involving m’naago’s dad and the seeker who wanted to battle him and become nuhn out of vengeance until he learned the truth of his own father; helping the pixies find purpose without seeing titania’s dreams; and everything for the omicrons with the café and elysion in UT.

the culinarian/alchemist questline at the crystalline mean is also canon for her as well; it’s so important to me that she helps the recovering amaro while dealing with the light poisoning.

the shb role quests, its master quest, and the follow-up mini questline are also everything to me and def canon for her experiences as well. no spoilers (holding you at gunpoint to finish leveling rdm + do the warring triad to access all parts) but OUGH.

oh god also that one gold quest that’s so easy to miss but you go with f’lhaminn to say goodbye to a place made for minfilia and leave a stone that was important to her after returning to the source from the first.

island sanctuary & mount rokkon are canon because I love how they bring her back to building a community for herself and her loved ones and exploring new places.

and the hildibrand quests are absolutely NOT canon for her but bring so much unhinged and lighthearted fun to me and I love them for it LMAO

probably so many more I’m forgetting, hey did you know I love a side quest !!

30. what was their highest point in shadowbringers? their lowest? what caused it?

highest: the very first night sky that she brought back, which is kind of sad because it was so early, but that first brief bit of hope that she was able to bring to the people there on the first was so meaningful to her.

lowest: the aftermath of mt gulg/crown of the immaculate, nearly transforming into a sin eater, thinking she lost raha again when he was shot, and the light returning to the skies - it felt like such a devastating failure and made her believe that she would die by the time she had to face emet-selch.

[myrfing]

4 (mostly wondering about mount but if sahlloweye is canon feel free to tell me MORE also), 22, 25, 29!

HEY CAR THANK YUOU FOR QUESTIONS (overnight stocker maneuvers)

4. Do they have a canon mount or minion? What's its name(s)? 

OK ANSWERED ABOUT MOUNTS so the. YEAH the shalloweye is canon. runt of a group of em in coerthas that started following him. he mostly left it alone and left like...pieces of jerky and such for it to eat sometimes (it didn't eat them but he kept doing it anyway). it got captured by some dudes and sold to the gold saucer as a novelty pet prize and he was like wait... and won it back doing lord of verminion with the help of a friend. since then it gets to ride on his shoulder. it is just there to see vistas. after he learned voidsent are like...turned people...he started making clothes and hats for it but it made no move to dress itself so he stopped

22. Do you  have a unique tale for their job class or is it pretty much like what it is in the game?

His main classes are mostly like the canon storylines! He actually went through a full course for arcanists though when he was 17-18ish and sought out healing-based arcanima of his own accord. Some things in the 30-50 drk quest are also a little different in meaning because of my hc that fray retains their original self within his soul and have different resentments and fears that they projected onto him versus them being directly just his Esteem. some classes like pld, "drg" (lancer, really), mnk, "whm" (conjury) are not really canon and more like just weapons/magic he knows how to use.

25. Do they have any habits or rituals that they do to soothe themselves? I.e. Playing with their hair, chewing their lip, fidgeting, etc. 

OK often unconsciously does it but he sort of sweeps his tail once or twice when he's nervous which has made it thwack against some things. he actually really isn't all that fidgety and is good at sitting and standing still but his tail can give him away that thing is doing whatever it wants. he also does this thing where he reaches up and sort of scratches the scales on the opposite side of his face when he's tired and losing focus. scritch..

29. Did your WoL suspect anything was amiss with Urianger or the Crystal Exarch? Did they feel betrayed? Upset? When the truth finally emerged? 

With Urianger SAD TO REPORT HE DID NOT AT ALLLLLL he got his ass. he was just like well he is doing his own thing it is not my business and Urianger knows what he is doing he is trustworthy and nice. he actually also didn't...resent Urianger for what he did with Minfilia either because when they spoke at the mothercrystal he sort of realized it was kind of like the way he trusts yshtola and the way she trusts him in turn. in the like I know you would want the same thing/exchange of burdens and it actually helped him come to terms with the fact that it was Minfilia's choice and resolve. with the exarch not at all either because if he were to blame anyone it'd be graha really and second he doesn't even because again he sees it as a we're all on the same boat trying to row thing and he would have gone just as far.

with graga...he knew he was graha from the beginning but he was entirely willing to play along fully in the sense that he was like ok you say you aren't then you aren't and I'm sure you have your reasons. no coyness or attempts to prod it out at all. he was kind of like wait have I been fucking stupid @ the crown of the immaculate though when he did realize oh fuck he wants me to call him by his name this time. he wasn't mad about the light thing at all he knew the risk and saw it at his own choice. and he just doesnt have it in him to be like YOU FUCKING DONKEY about graha trying to blow himself up he was just joyous that he returned to him and that they won.

he has a very "do you see what I see" "i do" broader view with the scions where the world and the lives of many others are inextricably bound to the choices they make and their interpersonal bond and so he finds it very difficult to resent or feel betrayed by the scions on that level lol. he is used to that sort of thing and it resonates with him because the spires were very My Life Was Always Yours with each other too. mildly unhealthy but many things hang in the balance

[ainyan]

A new short story is out on the Lodestone, this one featuring some lore and backstory about Ran'jit. More under the cut.

Without going too deep into things, I do feel this story confirms one of my suspicions, that Ran'jit was, in essence, the First's version of a Reaper. Since the First does not have the same connection to the Thirteenth as the Source (and they lack a lot of the same power, being more sundered), they can't summon Voidsent. However, they were obviously able to make a deal with some kind of malignant creature - likely some form of elemental - as seen in Ran'jit's draconic companion.

This story goes into some detail about Ran'jit's forebears and what they did for a living, as well as his father and how he came to be the trainer for a succession of young Minfilias before losing heart and hope.

It's a good read. I highly recommend it.