#Tanzel Eadir

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 6 Halcyon

(2,480ish words taking place about 20ish years before ARR...)

“Papa! The caravan’s here!”

Rashae stood at the front of their stall, leaning over the counter to see farther down the street. Beyond her, he could indeed see the first of the wagons rolling in.

“Gather your siblings and cousins,” he said. “They’ll be weary from the trade routes and we’ll do our part to lighten their load as we welcome them in.”

Rashae nodded and dashed off. Tanzel joined the other men and women of their Cooperative in leaving his store to ensure the warehouse doors were open and the stables ready to accept the chocobos and their cargo. Friends and relatives greeted one another, separated by weeks or months since they had all left Davarresh for this trade season, plying the wares around the island, with some like Tanzel’s family coming straight to the capital.

He grinned as he saw one of the wagons belonging to the Ranaz family. “Jin!” he called, catching a glimpse of his oldest friend.

Jinrahn turned, smiling broadly to return the quick hug Tanzel gave him. “Good to see you, brother!” Jinrahn said. “It’s good to be home.”

“Until we go home to Davarresh when the wind cools. How was the road?”

“Dusty and hot, as always,” Jinrahn said. “But we’re a little lighter than normal for finishing out the season.”

“That good, eh?”

“Well, I had more charming help than usual.” Jin’s smile faltered slightly, a sympathetic tinge to it that Tanzel did not understand, until he followed his friend’s gaze to the two women wrangling the Ranaz children into some semblance of order. He knew Jinrahn’s wife, but the other woman took him a moment to recognize.

“Is that Emelia?”

“It is,” Jinrahn said. “She and her children arrived just before we left the village. That never ending war the Coerthans somehow have with their dragons—imagine!—claimed her husband.”

“I thought she’d married a farmer?”

“Aye. Something about giving succor to a soldier, some hero I guess, and got caught in the conflict. Lost their house and all. So she came home finally. She can still charm the stingiest Arkasodara grandfather into buying more than he meant, too.”

Tanzel nodded. It had been a shock to everyone when Emelia Ranaz had remained in Coerthas, having fallen in love there, after scorning the attentions of every local boy and even a few girls who had looked her way as she had blossomed from Jinrahn’s skinny little sister into a lovely maiden trained in bardsong.

Well, she was still Jinrahn’s little sister, that they had by turns teased and avoided as boys. At least until she turned and saw Tanzel, taking a moment to recognize him, and then smiling, offering a small wave.

He knew too well that particular sadness swimming in her dark blue eyes, the exact sort of tension in her shoulders.

Tanzel saw the same in his mirror every day.

-

The trade season kept the Cooperative families happily busy, another successful year passing by. Tanzel was now familiar with Emelia’s son, an energetic ten year old called Zaine, playing with the other children when not performing daily chores and light work. A helper, that one, willing to lend a hand as needed.

If he kept busy enough, he wouldn’t have to dwell on his pain, Tanzel knew, from watching his own boys.

Emelia’s daughter was a helper too, but she was quiet, and rarely left her mother’s side, unless she was with the old teacher, Shovanna. Still, Aeryn seemed like a good, hard-working child, who otherwise played or read silently, only rarely joining the other children’s games. Some folks whispered about the girl not being quite right in the head—what unhindered child made such little sound?—but everything Tanzel saw showed a bright, helpful girl, sometimes frustrated by her own silence.

He recognized the hurt in her, too. He saw it in his own daughters.

It was their last night in Radz-at-Han. In the morning—late, after tonight’s merrymaking with their neighbors and those of the Cooperative who would stay through the rainy season—most of them would make the trek up the coast to their little village, and the cycle would begin anew. Tanzel was eager to return to the quiet of Davarresh, after months in the city.

He was not so eager to join in the drinking, feasting, and dancing going on in the square outside the Cooperative’s compound. He put in a brief appearance for propriety’s sake, nursing a single drink while smiling politely and speaking to a few business partners and good friends. He soon slipped away, as had been his wont for the last few years. He just didn’t have the heart for it anymore.

As he found his excuse to return to the storehouse, he saw he wasn’t the only one.

Emelia was in one of the stalls belonging to her family, leaning on a stack of chocobo feedbags. Her hands gripped the canvas, her hunched shoulders stiff. Her long, dark hair hid her face, but he heard her sniffle. He made certain his boots made noise and she straightened, quickly swiping her face before turning with her usual dazzling smile.

“Oh. Hello, Tanzel.”

He smiled in return, but didn’t bother with his own mask. “Hello, Emelia. Not feeling up to the party?”

Her smile faltered. “I...no,” she said, letting the mask drop now. “Not really.”

Tanzel nodded. “Me neither.” He pretended to think for a moment. “Come on.”

She raised a brow. “To where?”

“Somewhere we won’t have to deal with well-meaning friends and their platitudes,” he said bluntly, but gently, heading away from the entrance and the festivities outside.

After a brief moment, he heard her light step follow after him.

He paused in his family stall long enough to grab a couple small, brown bottles from under the counter, that he had not yet packed on purpose. Then he led her to the stairs, and the winding climb up past the third story, taking her hand to help her up onto the roof.

The city glittered and gleamed around them, color and lights rioting under the starry heavens. It was a sight he could never tire of, and from the way Emelia sucked in a breath, it was one she had nearly forgotten, and had not yet taken the time to reacquaint herself with since returning home.

Tanzel and Emelia sat on the edge of the roof, opposite of the party up front, looking out over the city. He popped open one of the bottles and handed it to her, then took the other for himself. Emelia wrinkled her nose as she took a swig.

“Ugh, you and Jin still have terrible taste in booze,” she said, taking another sip.

“A man’s gotta have at least one vice,” Tanzel replied.

“Your grandfather’s favorite saying,” she said. “But he had better taste for proper liquor.” Her soft smile was genuine now, recalling those happy days of their youth.

“We can blame my uncles for being poor influences. Or your uncles. I forget.”

She laughed. Not as freely as she once might have, but genuinely, and that was good enough. “Remember when Uncle Fahr convinced you and Jin that a wish-granting djinn lived in a cave in the cliffs south of Yedlihmad?”

Tanzel chuckled. “I do, and the punishment we got for investigating—and stumbling on a nest of efts instead. You’d think that’d be punishment in itself!”

“Perhaps had something to do with leading them back to town.”

“Oh, perhaps. But you weren’t exactly a saint, either, as I recall.”

“I don’t know what you could mean.”

“That incident with the silk merchant and the fish comes to mind.”

“It was a crab, and that was a perfectly formulated plan for revenge.”

“My mistake. I do have to question your definition of ‘perfectly formulated’ though.”

“My plan was fine,” Emelia insisted with an exaggerated pout. “It was the crab and my target who were uncooperative.”

Tanzel laughed. They continued talking, recalling childhood and adolescent adventures and achievements, bright days when their futures had yet seemed limitless in possibility.

“And I remember,” Emelia said, as the contents of their respective bottles were low. “At your wedding, my brothers were so—” She stopped suddenly, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? If it was about the pranks they pulled on me just before we were to give our vows, I have it on good authority you had nothing to do with that.”

“I just,” she hesitated. “I heard what happened. And I haven’t taken the time yet…”

He leaned over and bumped her shoulder—not quite like when they were children, but in a similarly familiar manner. “It’s fine. I’ve heard the words often enough. Just like you have by now.”

She peered at him, absently batting him away, as she had done when a girl and he and her brother had pestered her like that. “Doesn’t it still...Are you…”

“Yes, it hurts,” Tanzel replied quietly. He looked out over the city again. “I’m not sure it will ever stop hurting. I might have lost myself in a pile of these bottles, if not for my children.” He smiled. “Rashae’s so much like her mother. Looks like her more and more, too.”

“Zaine looks like his father,” Emelia whispered. “And they both have his eyes.”

“Blessed reminders,” Tanzel said. “At least, that’s what everyone tells me. And on good days, I agree with them.”

“And on bad ones?” She didn’t quite look at him.

“I curse the gods for such a constant cruelty. Then I continue on, trying not to feel guilty, because what else can I do?”

He saw her bite her lip and nod ever so slightly.

“Still,” Tanzel continued, finishing his drink. “It doesn’t hurt to think of our wedding—not anymore. It’s still one of the best days of my life. Then our children were born, and those were blessed times too. At least until the little monsters started keeping us up all night,” he joked.

She chuckled, and he again took it as a victory. “At least you had family with you.”

“That did help.” He frowned. “Did he not?”

She shook her head. “His mother disapproved of me. So we settled in a village where he had friends, and...we did have good neighbors, who helped.”

“Fool woman, to not know what a gem of a daughter-in-law she had,” Tanzel sniffed.

“Thought I was Jin’s bratty little sister.”

“I never said you weren’t still that, too.” He bumped her again. She smiled wanly and shook her head. “You were happy though, weren’t you, Emelia?”

Her face crumpled. “Mostly. I loved him enough to stay in that cold, colorless land—I wanted to come home for years, but he didn’t want to leave, and now...” She leaned forward, face in her hands.

Tanzel rubbed her back for a time, letting her crying, saying nothing. Eventually she calmed, taking a shaky breath, and accepting his handkerchief to wipe her eyes and nose.

“Tell me about Coerthas,” he finally said. “It can’t have been all terrible, if you stayed for so long.”

“It’s all...tangled up in memories of him.”

“Of course it is. But the good outweighs the bad, doesn’t it?” As she considered that, he continued. “That wretched moment cannot overshadow all the time proceeding it. It’s a disservice to them and the joy they brought us. The children they left with us. The only thing that comes close to helping is remembering the times we laughed and loved. That one terrible day can’t take away the rest.”

They were silent for a long while.

“It had its own beauty,” Emelia finally said, voice hushed. “More stark, the mountains swooping over the vales. In Springtime suddenly the fields would go from gray and brown to a lush green and the flowers would bloom like rainbows fallen from the sky. We’d walk along the sheep paths and deer tracks…”

He listened, as she described the idyllic life of a Coerthan farm family—not that they hadn’t known hardship, and he understood her sighing about little Aeryn going through clothes and shoes like water, his Rashae was too similar—but what began in fits and starts soon fell into familiar bardic story rhythms as she told stories until they were both laughing over her children’s antics, her neighbors’ strange foreign actions, and her happier memories of her husband.

The bells chimed thrice, startling them both. The sounds of the party up front had long since faded, though there were still a few revelers wearily talking and stumbling themselves and others to bed. Tanzel stood and stretched, offering Emelia a hand up. She took it, and continued in to give him a tight hug. He returned it, and they stood like that for a long moment.

“Thank you, Tan,” she said, still leaning on him. “I wish...I wish you didn’t understand. But I’m,” she hesitated again.

“But I do. And I’m here, when you need to talk. Or just get away from others who say things, without knowing it how we do.”

She nodded against his chest, then, with a deep exhale, stepped away. “Shovanna said she’d stay with the children, and they should all three be asleep, but I ought to check on them.”

“Mine were probably up too late and getting into mischief until their grandmothers caught them,” Tanzel said. “I’ll get an earful in the morning.”

“So you’ll do as when we were children, and you and Jin used to blame me to try to keep out of trouble.”

“Ah, you’ve caught on to my dastardly plan.”

“Next time, consult someone whose plans are perfect,” she said, affecting a haughty sniff.

“If I find someone like that, I’ll let you know,” he replied, laughing as she bapped his arm.

He helped her off the roof and into the stairwell, and they made their way down in the dark, still joking. They parted at the base, he heading to his family quarters, Emelia to her family’s. He glanced back before stepping inside. She had also stopped, and waved to him.

Tanzel returned the wave before Emelia vanished behind the door. He felt better than he had in awhile. If this pain he carried, and how he was learning to live with it, could help his childhood friend...well, it was far from worth it, but it was something useful, at least. Maybe.

He wished it hadn’t taken this sort of wretched circumstance to reunite them. To make her more than Jin’s bratty little sister, but someone who understood, and needed to be understood herself.

Tanzel shook his head, disposed of the bottles, and continued on to bed. Morning would come too soon and a lot of work with it.

He dreamed of his favorite days with his wife, and then of youthful days playfully teasing his friend’s little sister.

[autumnslance]

Aeryn doesn't remember much of her birth father, Corran; she remembers he had a gruff voice perfect for telling stories, called her "Hummingbird", danced in the kitchen with Mama. Aeryn found out as an adult that he was a secret heretic, able to transform into a dragon thanks to ingesting blood (and for long enough it had an effect on her), and was killed by Ser Alberic when he was still the Azure Dragoon. Ser Alberic lied to protect the innocent members of the Striker family and allow Emelia to take her children to Thavnair.

Aeryn is still trying to process how she feels about all of that, and how it explains much of her life. Her father is long gone, though, and so she is only left with spotty early childhood memories and pieces of a stranger's story.

Emelia is where Aeryn gained her appreciation of stories, song, dance, arts and creativity, and fashion. Emelia was a supportive and caring mother, if a little precious about her children, especially her daughter. That nervous protectiveness exploded when the siblings revealed their (mostly Zaine's) desire to leave Thavnair to be adventurers...starting with returning to Eorzea. Emelia put her foot down, fighting and tears were had, and in the end, Zaine left but Aeryn stayed. Emelia couldn't, wouldn't lose both of them to the realm where she'd lost so much, had given everything to leave to see her children safe.

Emelia also told Aeryn, but not Zaine, that she was ill; mother and daughter had always been closer, and he wouldn't have stayed either way. But Aeryn did. The alchemists staved it off for a time, but it was a slow dwindling of Emelia's vibrant life. Zaine seemed lost to the Calamity, proving Emelia's fears founded, and she deteriorated further.

Aeryn adored and admired her mother, but there's a resentment and relief and guilt mixed in with the love and grief, due to those last few years. It was a bit over a year after Emelia passed that Aeryn finally left home, to seek out her brother's fate.

When Aeryn does talk about her Papa, or is asked about her father, she thinks of her stepfather, Tanzel Eadir. Emelia married him a few years after their return to the island. A widower with (at the time) preteen and teen children himself, Aeryn became the youngest of a much larger family. While she was slow to open up to Tanzel, she always liked and admired him; she was simply shy as a child. But he was respectful, careful, warm, and loved the Striker children as his own. He saw to Aeryn's education, and her training, and though it broke his heart, let her choose her path and leave to live the life she wanted after Emelia passed. Tanzel has opened his home now to Aeryn's friends in the Scions, whenever they need; he's just happy to have his little girl able to visit and relatively safe. Her partner seems to be a decent man. Tanzel's boggled by her fame, the things she's done and seen. He can't comprehend what she's been through. How his family's status has changed (he is now on a few committees at the Satrap's request!)--how he has to watch out for greedily opportunistic relatives and acquaintances suddenly, too.

But it doesn't matter. Aeryn's his daughter, and Tanzel is there when she needs him. And she is so very grateful for that, and hadn't realized how much she missed it in the whirlwind of adventure since she first arrived in Eorzea finally.

Question of the Day [WoLs]

Since it seemed to have meet some success, I add another to the list. This time about a subject I don’t often see talked about when it comes to WoLs specifically:

What are their relationship with their parents? Are they still alive? How do their parents live with the risk their child has taken to help people/save the world?

[autumnslance]

Tanzel and Emelia sat on the edge of the roof, opposite of the party up front, looking out over the city.

The city glittered and gleamed around them, color and lights rioting under the starry heavens. It was a sight he could never tire of, and from the way Emelia sucked in a breath, it was one she had nearly forgotten, and had not yet taken the time to reacquaint herself with since returning home.

-FFXIV Write 2024 entry 6 Halcyon

I didn't do screenshots during the FFXIV Write, but decided I wanted a scene of these two having their conversation. The best way to get on the roofs of Radz-at-Han is of course via the jump puzzle, which I'm hopeless at. Thanks to @driftward for helping me cheese it to get the sightseeing log entry and these shots!

[autumnslance]

(@driftward) Glimpes of the past meme. What has AERYN ACHIEVED? A CRITICAL C'ORETTA moment? When was IYNA INJURED? And when Dark, uhhh, Dark.. uhhhh.. AUTUMN AFRAID? And maybe a bonus MORTAL moment with... (wait for it) MEVAN?

Gremlin. All of these prompts on the same doc came to a bit over 4000 words. Half of these words are these scenes.

There's a lot here, so under a cut they go!

send ACHIEVED for a scene from my muse's past in which they completed / achieved something they were proud of

“Top marks again,” Emelia said, smiling brightly. “Even beating out the older students.”

Aeryn shrugged, trying to remain modest but seeing how pleased her parents were made her smile in return.

“Your academic skill has been noticed,” Tanzel said, reaching over to squeeze her skinny shoulder. “My old friend at the High Crucible has been following with interest. He is willing to sponsor your continued studies, on the condition you apprentice with him afterwards.”

“Truly?” Emelia asked, while the grandmothers murmured in the background.

Aeryn frowned. “I like alchemy, but I want to study magic.” She ignored Nani Shaila’s derisive snort.

Tanzel nodded. “I told him so, even with how…difficult, casting has been for you,” he said diplomatically. “But he thinks a well-rounded education in the current theories will be an excellent foundation, given the work they must do for the satrap.”

Her heart beat a bit faster. She could still study what she wanted—she was so close to figuring out how to tap into her aether, she just knew it—and would have secured herself a position in the High Crucible as well. She nodded eagerly, trying to contain her excitement.

Even better, Zaine was coming home on leave in a few days, and she couldn’t wait to tell him.

send CRITICAL for a scene from my muse's past in which they thought about / were reminded of something they're insecure about

C’oretta paused just inside the door of their house, hearing the nurse Master Hamon had insisted upon talking with her mother. “Now then, Miss C’leiha, let’s get this done before your daughter gets home.”

“I told you before, Mida,” C’leiha said. The nurse’s name was not Mida. “Khell wants a big family, but I am not interested in having children.”

C’oretta bit her lip as the nurse took in a deep breath. “Is that so, Miss?” The nurse said mildly.

“Pregnancy is awful, and the changes to one’s health and body, even lasting after, ugh,” C’leiha shuddered. “And I’ve missed opportunities with my career I wouldn’t otherwise. No, we shall not be having a big family. I’d be happy with just the two of us.”

C’oretta forced her smile back on and called “Mama, I’m home!” before she stepped into the room.

C’leiha sat up, beaming. “Oretta! Welcome home, darling, did you have a good day at school?”

Reminding C’leiha that she was training at the Pugilist Guild now wouldn’t be useful, so C’oretta only nodded, still smiling, shrugging slightly at the nurse’s apologetic look.

send INJURED for a scene from my muse's past in which they sustained a significant injury

To all of my children in whom Life flows abundant…

The sky burned. Iyna’s head ached as if struck, though it was her side that felt every flame.

…To all of my children, to whom Death hath passed his judgment…

She had been returning to the Citadel when something had obviously, terribly gone Wrong with the transmitter, Dalamud distantly pulsing red in the sky above.

…The soul yearns for honor, and the flesh the hereafter…

Her flesh was certainly yearning for relief of some kind, though not that of the Lifestream just yet. She pulled herself to her feet, wincing and holding the gushing wound at her side. That wasn’t good.

…Look to those who walked before to lead those who walk after…

Her ears rang, the words hard to make out, but she turned back to where her contacts had risked dropping her off and hobbled that way.

…Shining is the Land's light of justice…

The land was twisted and torn, what parts of the city that hadn’t collapsed burning. She blocked out the sounds and scents of people dying, as she had hundreds of times over the decades.

…Ever flows the Land’s well of purpose…

What the fuck had Garlond done?

…Walk free, walk free, walk free, believe…

She stumbled on, holding her side, calling on years of training and discipline and hate and stubborness to keep going, the ringing sound almost like a song in her ears urging her forward…

…The Land is alive, so believe…

“Iyna!” The familiar voices of her rebel contacts drew near, and she almost wanted to weep in relief. They were still there. They had come to find her, knowing she wouldn’t have gotten to the city proper yet, in her circuitous route to throw off suspicion.

Caution was no longer needed. There would never be a better time.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, swaying into her allies’ arms. “They’ll think I died with the rest.”

“You still might. Gods, this is a lot of blood!”

“Carry her, we have to go.”

A hrothgar scooped her up, and they ran through the burning woods to their transport.

The song continued, a terrible lullaby sending Iyna into dreams of more fiery skies and burning cities.

When she woke days later, side stitched and burns covered, she did not remember the dreams nor the song.

(Later she recognized the voice)

send AFRAID for a scene from my muse's past in which they were scared / under threat

Dark shouldn’t have wandered away from her siblings.

They were noisy even when not chattering and laughing and so she had slipped away to hunt for herself, and had found a nice young antelope she could easily take with her bow.

Then the boar had arrived, scaring off her quarry and staring at Dark with its angry eyes.

She stood frozen, hoping if she just didn’t move one way or another it would go. At thirteen summers, she was taller than many adult Hyurs, but still unmistakably adolescent in her gangly limbs that did not match the size of her hands and feet, nor her still plank-straight torso. Her shortbow’s pull was strong, enough for wildlife up to small deer, but a boar?

It was larger than her, its hide thick and tough, its yellowed tusks long and pointed. It huffed out a heavy breath.

Dark swallowed a whimper and tried to stop her trembling.

It rushed forward. Dark screamed, loosing her arrow instinctively. It pinged off a tusk.

There was a shout, and the boar was body checked by a large roegadyn man, his spear driving into the creature’s side. Dark let loose another arrow. This one, luckily, pierced through the boar’s eye, finishing its ferocious death throes.

She fell to the ground, shaking and choking out a little sob.

Cold Autumn pushed himself off the boar’s twitching, whimpering, dying body. He stood there for a moment, shaking himself, muttering prayers and curses to both Nophica and the Elementals, apologizing for what had transpired, thanking them for the bounty of the boar’s body while keeping his sister safe, promising to see none of the boar wasted. The ritual helped him calm down, giving Dark the time to settle as well, and whisper her own prayers in response, following her eldest brother’s example.

His broad shadow fell over her, and she looked up. His expression of relieved anger was almost more frightening than the boar had been. “I told you to stick with us,” Cold said.

She nodded. She had disobeyed. The others were calling from the woods, hurrying through the underbrush, asking if everything was all right.

“We’re fine!” Cold called, deep voice easily carrying through the woods, slowing their siblings’ rush. He reached down and grabbed Dark’s upper arms, his hands huge and strong as he hauled her to her feet and looked her over. “Hurt?” he asked, tone gentler.

She shook her head.

“Good shot,” he said. “Finished it quicker than I could alone. Don’t do this again, Mouse.”

She nodded, flinging forward to hug him tightly. He returned the embrace, and then led her to rejoin the others.

send MORTAL for a scene from my muse's past in which they had a brush with death, either themselves or someone close to them

The tunnel’s collapse was sudden, no Earth inspired nearby to sense, let alone stop, it. Mevan’s training with the town physicker wasn’t so much interrupted as changed in its course, following him to the site as people were pulled out of the rubble. She and the physicker were kept busy, hours passing in a blur.

She used the basic cleanse inspiration, many of the miners too injured to hiss at the sharpness of the aether scouring their forms. She used alchemical solutions to dull their pains and medicate scraped and torn flesh. She traced her hands over their wounds as if she were stitching them, her inspiration knitting them together. She set broken bones, weaving torn tendons, ligaments, muscles, flesh into whole pieces before splinting the limbs or wrapping the ribs, the spines.

Through it all, Mevan grit her teeth, mouth full of the taste of copper and grit, bones aching, skin tender, innards twisted. She felt each cut and bruise, each break and tear, that her patients experienced, her inspiration’s sympathetic reactions guiding her to what needed healing.

Her back ached, legs tingling as if asleep as she worked on a broken spine. She wasn’t good enough to deal with nerve damage yet; hopefully Master Ildris would come soon, a message had been sent to the enclave…

A shout, as one more body was pulled from deep in the rubble. They called for Mevan, and she ran to see. The man barely breathed, every attempt a shallow, raspy hiss. He was a mass of blood and bruising, limbs crushed and mangled. She set to work.

Sparks danced in her hair as she cleansed him, more blood welling and pooling in places it should not be. His skull had been mostly protected by his helm and luck besides, so there was no brain damage—not from being struck, anyway. She ignored his extremities for now, seeking the damages in his pulverized and punctured torso.

It was so much. Too much, making her sway as blackness crowded her vision. But she sucked in a breath and set to work. Mevan was only Seraphic inspired, but she had aetheric reserves that made even Divines jealous. She could keep going. She had to.

So she began knitting his wrecked organs back together. Clearing and repairing his lungs so he could breathe…but his airways were blocked, so take care of that. That caused a skip in his also damaged heart, so hurry there, finish the lungs in a moment…but now other things were failing, more blood and bile where it shouldn’t be, a cascade that she chased, trying to catch up to the failing pieces. She even tried turning the sympathetic bond around, willing her own organs to remind his how they ought to work—

“Mevan,” Ildris’s voice, soft and sad. Her thin, calloused hand rested on Mevan’s. “Ease his pain. And let him go.”

“But I can—”

“No,” her mentor said. “There are some things beyond even Inspiration. You’ve done more than could be expected, but it’s just as important that we know when to give in to fate.”

Mevan’s vision blurred, from both weariness and tears. The man was too weak to groan, but as deep as she was in his innards, she felt every agony. She withdrew; slowly, carefully, and with Ildris’s guidance, dulled his nerves and released the humors that would make him feel better than he was. Mevan fumbled for one of her vials, pouring it down his throat, sensing further relief as he relaxed, little other sensation left to him as she watched his battered organs fail.

Her own breath paused, briefly, as his finally rattled to a stop.

Mevan slumped against Ildris, who held and rocked her, brushing a kiss across Mevan’s temple, as she had when Mevan was a child and sobbing about how she missed her home, how she couldn’t reach the promise of her inspiration—not until she found her calling to heal.

“I know,” Ildris said. “The first is the hardest.”

“It gets easier?�� Mevan rasped, her vision swimming, darkening as she shivered; she had been healing for hours, and this had been the worst. She had hit aethershock.

“No,” Ildris admitted, as Mevan’s consciousness faded away.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 15: Portentous

“And you’re sure about this?” Tanzel asked his stepson as they rearranged crates, taking inventory.

Zaine nodded. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, I guess.”

“As idle fancies between you and your sister,” Tanzel said, surprising Zaine. “But this is a heftier decision.”

“Not an unusual one, though. Our people tend to wander, adventure, and then come back,” Zaine pointed out.

“Aye, but you’ve ever been content to stay,” Tanzel countered. “You took an extra stint in the Host, even, before suddenly refusing a commission. Now this. What’s going on, son?”

Zaine thought hard about telling Tanzel about what he thought he had seen that night on lookout. The long, sinuous, winged shadow silently moving through the sky, before vanishing beyond the eastern mountains. A glimpse of a divinity, perhaps—one that stirred old memories of his first home, and questions he’d long held about that past.

The more he thought about it, the more it had seemed like a sign.

Or maybe it was just his general fondness for soothsaying and fortune telling.

In the end, he settled for saying, “It just feels right.”

Tanzel sighed. “Well, it’s not as if I can keep you here; you’re a man grown, and can do as you will with your life.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still want your opinion and advice, Pop,” Zaine said.

“I’d like nothing more than for you to stay forever,” Tanzel said. “But that’s the side of me that still sees you as a reckless little boy. And you know your mother won’t like the idea.”

Accepting him leaving would be hard enough. Accepting him returning to Eorzea was going to be impossible. “S’why I was hoping to get your backing. She’s less likely to go apoplectic.”

Tanzel leaned on a crate and thought about it. “I’ll smooth what I can—best to try after her initial temper. If you’re really certain you’re gonna do this.”

“I am,” Zaine said, and meant it.

He recalled again that distant black shadow crossing the night sky. A sign from the past, pointing him to the future.

[autumnslance]

Something I’ve been wondering: Aeryn is of course romantically involved with Thancred, but how does this affect her relationship with Ryne? In fact, what is that relationship like at all? (Between her and Ryne)

At first, it was a little awkward; Aeryn arrived in the First, learned Thancred had been there for 5 years and 3 of those were spent caring for an adolescent...reincarnation? of Minfilia. It felt a little strange at first, especially given the sudden rescue and run into Il Mheg and things there, with Thancred being changed while no real time had passed for Aeryn. And things were rocky between Thancred and Aeryn at first in the First, between that time gap (when their romantic relationship was still pretty new when he'd been Called) and his being a Suddenly Dad (and a not great one, especially for someone with Tanzel Eadir and Iron Summer as their measuring stick).

But Thancred spent some of those 3 years telling Ryne about Aeryn, and writing himself letters on Aeryn's nameday each year to tell her about Ryne, himself, and simply things he wanted to remember while they were apart.

As in most cases, Aeryn was immediately protective of the girl, and Aeryn pretty quickly ended up treating Ryne as she does other adolescent friends; by acting like an older sister and a bit of a Mom, easily falling into a mentor, and a bit of a caretaker, role. She supported Ryne as she struggled with her sense of self and identity, understanding such things all too well...and also maybe encouraged the kid to be a little more of a kid, and even bit of a gremlin at Thancred and Urianger, cuz they deserved it, obviously. Though even Ryne can get exasperated by Aeryn's more impulsive moments! And sounds an awful lot like Thancred when she scolds the Warrior of Darkness for her brashness...But Ryne also liked watching Thancred and Aeryn being domestic and loving at each other, at the sides of him Aeryn drew out that Ryne hadn't seen yet, and at how he can steady and support her, let her relax and just Be Aeryn, not the realm's hero. She liked that this woman Thancred spoke so highly of, told such stories about, was someone Ryne could call friend, and then family.

Aeryn and Ryne became close during the course of their adventures, and Aeryn checks back often, especially once the Scions returned to the Source, carrying letters and gifts back and forth. She wants to help Y'shtola's goals in order to see Thancred and Ryne have a chance to be together--to have all 3 of them together all at once again (well, 4, cuz we have to count Gaia in there!). She wants her family to be together again, and Ryne feels much the same way, glad for the visits and time with Aeryn, but the missing pieces are obvious to them all.

It's actually been awhile since I've done an Aeryn & Ryne edit...

Original posts here and here.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 12: Dowdy

Since the moment she was put into clothes for the first time as a newborn infant, Aeryn Striker had Opinions about what she wore.

From the feel of the fabric to its color to the number of buttons or hooks or strings, to the patterns and designs, cut and quality, the child was pickier than her parents often knew what to do with. Her elder brother was the first to realize the baby’s fuss came from disliking certain clothing items.

Unfortunately for tiny Aeryn, her parents were not wealthy, and clothing for an active, fast-growing child in a farming community needed to be economical above all else. So hand-me-downs from her brother and other village children, and cheap, sturdy fabrics that could take the wear and tear and staining, and could be let out for a time until she entirely outgrew them.

There were tears and pouts, shouts and crying, when she didn’t like her outfits. One summer morning everyone had a good laugh as Corran tried to catch an entirely naked three-year-old racing through the village.

In the end, Zaine could usually, mostly, get Aeryn to acquiesce for a time, distracting her with treats or toys or exploration or other childish games. Her natural inquisitiveness and sense of adventure could make her temporarily forget the uncomfortable, the shapeless, the ugly.

And she would “lose” things she particularly hated, in convoluted ways that left them unsalvageable. Otherwise Zaine would just find them and make her wear them again.

Finding outfits Aeryn did like came with their own problems of her wanting to wear them always, until entirely stained and discolored, and worn all the way through; they rarely lasted long enough for her to grow out of, and there was no handing them off to someone else’s child.

“She’ll eat everything put in front of her, listen to long sermons politely, be quiet when asked—and given a ‘good’ reason, sure, but still,” Emelia sighed. “I do not know what we are going to do if she ‘loses’ another pair of shoes, let alone this year’s winter coat.”

These habits only changed slightly on the family’s move to Thavnair.

The lighter fabrics felt better, and the patterns and designs, the colors and embellishments, all pleased Aeryn greatly. Some of it was the novelty at first, but even once she was used to the Hannish styles, she found…less to complain about.

She was old enough to no longer streak through the neighborhoods in fits of toddler petulance, for which Emelia thanked every divinity, and hoped the worst of this particular difficulty finished.

—

It could be said that Nani Shaila didn’t really get along with anyone, but she particularly disliked Zaine and Aeryn. The mother of Tanzel Eadir’s late wife, Nani Shaila resented his marriage to Emelia, feeling her own daughter was being replaced, regardless of her grandchildren assuring her otherwise.

She stayed under Tanzel’s roof for them…and also because none of her other children wished to deal with her. Tanzel was a man of patience and a firm enough will to mostly keep his first mother-in-law in line. His own mother, and new mother-in-law, helped.

But Tanzel was also a busy man and important to their Coooperative’s business dealings. So of course, the first time back in Radz-at-Han since her mother had married Tanzel (whom Aeryn liked quite a lot, but still felt painfully shy around), it was Nani Shaila minding the younger children as they went shopping in the Bazaar. And Aeryn being the youngest of all the Eadir children, Nani Shaila felt she had to keep the little girl at her side the whole time.

“I’m eight, Nani,” Aeryn tried to remind her. “I’m big enough to go ‘round by myself. I’ll even run errands for you!”

“Hrmph,” Nani Shaila looked down her nose. “You’re scrawny for eight,” she said again. “And tend toward trouble besides. Oh, you’ll complete the errands—in your own time and way, and I shall be left to clean up after you.”

“Or send Rashae to do it,” Aeryn said, before thinking. She winced, and then winced again when Nani Shaila gave her cheek a finger-flick. 

“Mind that impudent tongue, girl,” her step-Nani said. “Just for that, the book stall’s where we shall visit last. Now take my hand; it’s far too busy today and you’ll get stepped on by an Arkasodara otherwise.”

Aeryn doubted that, but slipped her hand into Nani Shaila’s iron-claw grasp and hurried after her longer stride. She said nothing else, paying half-attention as Nani Shaila visited various shops and stalls, many of them wholesalers, haggling for prices, and having her goods packaged and delivered to the Cooperative’s building.

“Almost done,” Nani Shaila said over three hours later. The sun was well past noon, it was hot and sticky-humid, and Aeryn was tired, hungry, and bored. Her arm seemed nearly pulled from its socket, drug about by Nani Shaila all afternoon. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were her own Nani Zahra, or even Dodi Anya. But they wouldn’t have kept her at their sides and then complained about her being underfoot all day, either.

Still, Aeryn perked up when she saw where they were headed next; a dress shop, yalms of colorful, silky fabrics on display out front.

“Hrm. I hear they’ve come under new management,” Nani Shaila said. “Behave yourself.”

Which meant “don’t touch anything,” which was quite possibly the worst thing ever.

The Hyur shopkeeper behind the counter had a mustache, so Aeryn supposed he was grown up despite how roundly soft and smooth his face was, and that he was only as tall as her Nani. He smiled too broadly and greeted them. “Welcome, madame, welcome! What might I do for you and your grandchild on this fine day?”

Most of the other shopkeepers had immediately recognized Nani Shaila as a Cooperative representative. Many of them had known her (unfortunately) for years, but others had taken one look at how she wore her jewelry, turban, and dress and knew.

But this man was young, and new, so maybe he didn’t know how to tell yet. Aeryn watched him, since she was allowed to do little else.

“We had a deal with your predecessor, and I mean to see if that might continue.”

“Mmm, yes of course. I cannot honor any prior bargains, of course; times change, prices go up, and if one doesn’t keep up, well one doesn’t keep a shop. But I’m sure we can come to an equitable arrangement.”

Nani Shaila’s eyes narrowed. “Hmph. We’ll see. To start, young man, I want to check on bolts of Doman silk.”

“Ah, yes of course. Just a moment, let me go find those for you…” He turned and began checking the stacks behind him.

“They’re right there,” Aeryn said, pointing to a rack covered in a brilliant rainbow of bolts. She was fairly certain an adult should have been able to see it from the counter.

“Why yes, good eye, little one!” the clerk said. “If it had been a bhujamga it would have bit me. So many things to keep track of.”

Nani Shaila squeezed her hand in a warning, but Aeryn really was trying to be helpful, and the clerk seemed glad for it.

“Here we are then, madame, the finest and newest of Doman silk!” He lifted up one of the bolts. Aeryn saw dust on the cloth when it caught the light. “Perfect for a new sari, or even just something to spruce up an old market dress, eh?”

“This is a new dress,” Nani Shaila said coolly, checking the edge of the silk. “But I see your meaning.”

“I perhaps misspoke to say ‘old’ when I meant more…classically styled.”

“You’re wearing last season’s style,” Aeryn said. “And it’s not even fit right.”

“Aeryn.”

“But Nani—”

The clerk frowned now. “Your grandchild doesn’t know when to stay quiet, I take it?”

“She does unfortunately tend to be honest,” Nani Shaila said. It took both Aeryn and the clerk a moment to realize what she had just said. “I believe we’ll be shopping elsewhere. Good day.”

She turned, dragging Aeryn along as she strode out of the shop. 

They were halfway down the block when Nani Shaila suddenly laughed. She had a sharp, cackley sort of laugh that Aeryn didn’t hear very often. “I meant to drag that out longer before laying into the poor fool, but his face! Leave it to you to know when something’s wrong concerning clothes.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

Nani Shaila looked down her nose at Aeryn. “There’s still time in the day,” she answered acerbically, then paused and looked along the road again. “But I suppose it is past time we went to the book stall.”

Aeryn grinned. It may not have been the best day, and there weren’t new clothes nor even bolts of cloth to make any, and she was still stuck with Nani Shaila, but it wasn’t all bad.

[autumnslance]

Prompt #29: Fuse

((1600 words of little Aeryn and her stepdad; had to get Tanzel in here at least once))

“Your girl has a temper problem,” Sulmeer said from behind his broad desk.

Tanzel nodded. “So I’ve noticed. But what, exactly, did she do this time?”

“Broke the nose and blackened the eyes of a boy three years older and twice her size,” the schoolmaster said.

By the Sisters. Tanzel struggled not to show his bias on his face. “And what did he do to warrant it?”

Sulmeer frowned. “The boy was laid flat out, Tanzel—”

“Aeryn has a temper—but she doesn’t lose it easily, and you know that.”

Sulmeer sighed heavily. “If anything, her fuse is too long,” he said. “She holds it in until it explodes like an alchemist’s bomb—as it did today.”

“And she flattens bullies bigger than her for it.”

“How do you figure—?”

“I know my girl,” Tanzel said shortly. “Was it even her that he was messing with?”

“I don’t know; I just know there was shouting in the yard, and then screaming and more shouting, and your stepdaughter raging like a guhasaya over another child.”

He would take offense to the description, were it not accurate. Her brother sometimes called her a dragonet for how she would flail when in a rage. “And I suppose his parents are demanding an apology?”

“That’s the thing, Tanzel; they’re visiting dignitaries from Sharlayan.”

Shite. “Then I shall make certain she is properly contrite when she makes her apology.”

Sulmeer sighed again. “Knowing Aeryn, she’s already feeling terrible about what she’s done. She’s a soft-hearted girl, truly—but gods, when her temper snaps…”

“I know,” Tanzel said, recalling a recent screaming match in the kitchen between the child and his late first wife’s elderly mother. Shaila still lived with his family for the sake of her grandchildren, but part of her resented Emelia and her children—and she tended to be strict with the latter.

He was certain that tension had contributed to this mess.

“If you’ve nothing else, I’ll talk to my daughter and ensure she makes the proper apologies.”

Sulmeer nodded. After a few more tense pleasantries, Tanzel departed the schoolmaster’s office for the muggy streets of Radz-at-Han.

Of course she had to snap while they were in the city. Of course it was at some ambassador’s son.

He wondered what the boy had done to deserve it.

At the Cooperative’s compound, he received a few looks from his colleagues tending to the shop stalls. He ignored them and made his way to the Eadir apartments, his own children pretending not to watch as he stepped in and looked around. “Where is she?”

“In the Grandmothers’ room,” Rashae said, looking up from her own chores. “They took her there immediately.”

Tanzel grit his teeth and marched to the small side suite where his mother and two mothers-in-law stayed.

The three old women looked up as he entered. Aeryn was standing in the corner, arms crossed, staring at the wall in stubborn defiance.

“That bad, is it?” He said, noticing her stiffen as he spoke.

“She’s being recalcitrant,” Shaila said with a sniff. “She refuses to speak of what happened or why. So no books, no games, no snacks, until she behaves like a proper young woman.”

“No chores either?” Tanzel asked. “And what will you do when the rest of her energy has not had its necessary outlet?” He caught Zahra, Emelia’s mother, hiding a smile. He knew she had tried to argue the same and been outvoted. “Aeryn, come here.”

His mother, Anya, looked up with a frown. “We are—”

“I’ve spoken to the schoolmaster. I’ll take care of our unruly girl from here.” He smiled at the trio as he herded Aeryn out of the stuffy little room and down the hall.

He waited until they were out the backdoor, opening into the barnyard with the chocobo pens and wagons. “Hard to breathe in that room, between all their incense and perfumes, isn’t it?” He said.

She didn’t answer, though he had not expected her to. Her temper had not abated either, judging from the storms in her eyes, the stiffness in her shoulders, the flush on her face.

“Come, help me clean these stalls.”

She frowned now, but more in confusion. She did as he bid, spending the next two bells on various hard chores normally handled by the older children. She was a small, skinny, gangly ten years old, though some thought her younger. She was strong for her size and age, hauling feed and full water buckets, mucking stalls, and scrubbing harnesses with such vigor Tanzel thought the straps would dissolve under the assault. She was biting back tears by this point.

He reached over and snagged the brush from her hand, leaving her blinking in surprise. “Rest your hands,” he said. “Your fingers are pruning and you’re tearing up your nails.”

Her silence continued. He hummed as he took over scrubbing the harnesses. “Worn your anger out yet?”

She had to think about it, the thoughtful little crease showing between her brows. She looked away and shrugged. Ah, it was going to be like that. Nothing Tanzel hadn’t dealt with before.

“It takes much to get under your skin,” he said, as casually as if discussing the weather. “Perhaps too much; you wait too long to share your feelings. And once your fuse is lit, it burns fiercely.”

She continued to not answer, nor look at him, watching the eating chocobos instead.

“What was he doing to push you so far?”

More silence.

“You’re already in trouble,” he pointed out. “And you’ll have to apologize—”

“He should apologize!” she snapped, face reddening again.

“He’s the one with the broken nose and blackened eyes.”

She paled, eyes wide; apparently no one had told her how bad the damage was.

“I understand his parents are dignitaries. This can cause problems for many people, so yes, you shall have to swallow your anger and pride, my little storm dragon, and say you’re sorry.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a bad liar, Aeryn Striker,” Tanzel admonished. “And it does not suit a girl of our family. I know you, and I know much of your anger is at yourself, for letting him push you so far, for hurting someone so badly. Yes?”

She didn’t answer, staring at the ground now.

“Did he pull your hair? Call you names? Steal your lunch?”

She shook her head.

“Aeryn. You would not do this without reason, would you?”

“He was mean to Amanya.”

An awkward arkasodara girl from a poor family. Aeryn was one of her few friends.

“She didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone, so just tried to ignore him. We both did, really, Papa, I tried…”

“Did you tell the teachers?”

“I did, though it made Amanya mad. But he wouldn’t stop, so I thought…But they didn’t do anything! And he kept teasing and then he grabbed her ear—”

“So you hit him.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Aeryn.”

“I don’t!” Tears welled out of her stormy eyes. “It all got very blurry. And then Master Sulmeer was dragging me away and yelling.” She sniffed and rubbed her face. “And now all the grown ups are mad, Amanya hates me, the other kids are scared of me and I still want to hit something over and over and I’m bad for that and for what I did and—”

He pulled her into a hug and let her cry on his shoulder. “You’re not bad. I’m sure Amanya is upset, but I doubt she hates you. The teachers should have done something, and when they did not, you stood up for your friend—but let your temper get the better of you, and so did a bad thing. We will have to do something about that, but for now, you will collect yourself and apologize—I know, I know, but it must be done. Am I understood?”

She nodded against his shoulder. He patted her back. “That’s my girl. Now what did the Grandmothers say for punishment?”

He could feel her pout. “Only naan for dinner and then early to bed.”

“Hrm. That seems well enough, especially after all the work we put in.”

She pulled away and shrugged. “Better than standing in the corner.”

“I thought so too,” he said with a wink. “Now go in and clean up, and get ready for that early bedtime. You can use the time to think about how you’ll apologize tomorrow. And no sneaking a book, we’ll be checking.”

She made a face, but nodded once more, heading toward the building and pausing to greet her mother, leaning against the door watching. Emelia smoothed a hand over Aeryn’s rumpled black braids and sent her inside.

Tanzel sighed as Emelia stepped close. “I come home and it seems I missed quite a bit,” she said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

“Our girl’s a menace of the schoolyard,” Tanzel only half-joked, snagging his wife’s hand just to hold it. “She gets it from you.”

“Ha!” Emelia snorted. “I wish I knew where such an explosive temper in such a sweet child came from. Then we might know better how to manage it.”

“I have ideas, though you may not like them. But she needs control of herself.”

The same little thinking crease formed between Emelia’s brows as she listened to his idea to send Aeryn to dance instruction sooner rather than later; an outlet for her energy, discipline of herself, and if she chose to continue, perhaps learning the kriegstanz.

Emelia would have to think about it, he knew; she was protective of her precious daughter.

Meanwhile, he would have to ensure Aeryn’s apology wasn’t too clever for her own good—even if Tanzel couldn’t be that upset about her giving a bully a thrashing, he also understood Aeryn’s fear of herself and what she was capable of once her fuse was lit.

All he could do was try to show her how to focus the resultant explosion—but he had faith she would learn, and when she did, his girl would be a force to be reckoned with.

[autumnslance]

For the number prompt #1 please!

((This got a bit longer than a ”micro”story, but still short. Parental fears, spouse loss. It’s not easy when two of your kids are adventurers.))

Don’t Leave

Tanzel kept his eyes on his work as his wife and her son argued. Zaine wanted to leave; Emelia wanted him to stay. An argument she was losing, as Zaine was a man grown now and determined to return to his father’s homeland.

Tanzel bit his own tongue. He agreed with Emelia, though she was angry he wouldn’t say it. That he did not insist their boy stay, to sate his need for adventure among the Radiant Host, that he not seek a distant history in chilly mountain airs. That he remain safe in their island home.

It was Zaine’s decision. Tanzel had no compelling argument beyond “Don’t leave.”

Aeryn also held her tongue—but she didn’t need to speak. The storms in her eyes made her feelings clear. At least she listened, when her mother begged her not to leave. Tanzel wasn’t sure it was the right decision, though it made him breathe easier.

The morning they watched Zaine leave, Tanzel almost said it. A father’s foolishness, he knew. For this was Zaine’s path, even if it meant that should Tanzel’s stepson ever return to Thavnair, the little boy he had raised would never come home again.

—------------

Tanzel watched his stepdaughter try to hold back her tears as Emelia struggled to breathe.

“Don’t leave,” his girl whispered, squeezing her mother’s hand.

She had more strength than he did. He couldn’t even speak, couldn’t make his own plea as he watched his nightmare recur.

Another love lost. Another wife to bury. Emelia took with her another piece of himself, not enough left to ever go through this again. But he could accept that.

What he dreaded was the piece of Aeryn that would accompany her mother. If only he could make the sound, form the words. Beg Emelia to stay even a little longer, if not for him than for her daughter.

But she had fought so long, so hard, already. He saw it in her eyes as their gazes met one last time. So he smiled for her, and nodded, and held Aeryn—was held by Aeryn, both of them held by his other sons and daughters—as his wife left them all behind.

—---------------

He did not argue, as Aeryn perhaps expected him to. This had been an inevitability, even before Zaine had left them.

No word in over four years. Not since the moon had fallen. And now his sister wished to find him, to join him as they had always planned, even if she thought Tanzel didn’t know that.

Tanzel had paid for education and training for them both. It might not have been enough for Zaine. What guarantee was there that it would be enough for Aeryn?

But she was older—barely—than Zaine had been when he left. Her mother’s loss was still a wound. And a relief too, Tanzel knew. No longer required to nurse an ailing woman, Aeryn had begun to live her own life again. The guilt hung on her heavier than any mourning shroud. Leaving was a means of escaping that guilt while continuing to find her own path.

It was the right decision, but that didn’t make Tanzel breathe any easier.

He almost said it, the morning she left. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue as she embraced him, as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “Don’t leave,” his heart begged. “You’re my daughter,” his mouth reaffirmed, the last thing Tanzel allowed himself to say as she stepped away.

Even as the cart bore her to Yedlihmad, he wanted to chase after and shout the words out. A father’s foolishness, he knew. This was her path, even if it meant that should his stepdaughter ever return to Thavnair, the little girl he had raised would never come home again.

—-----------------

The skies burned. He had watched people—neighbors, friends—turn into monsters.

His little girl had not come home. The Warrior of Light stood in her place.

“Don’t leave,” Tanzel blurted out, as she and her friends prepared for their respective missions.

They stopped, awkwardly watching as Aeryn strode toward her stepfather.

“Not again,” he whispered as she pressed a hand to his cheek. Her touch was gentle, her elegant hands scarred and calloused.

“We’ll return,” she promised, leaning her forehead against his. “Take care of everyone; despair, fear, anger; giving in creates the blasphemies. You can keep them calm and safe.”

“I need you to be safe.”

She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “Not until everyone else is.”

He nodded, further words sticking in his throat. He watched her walk back to her companions. He caught the eyes of the man in white, an understanding passing between them. But there was also a resolution in that gaze, shared with Aeryn; he would do his best to keep her safe—by wading into danger alongside her.

Young, reckless fools, every one of them. Exactly what the world needed at this moment. Not a tired old man frightened by the thought of his stepdaughter walking out the door.

A father’s foolishness, he reminded himself as the Scions departed. The Warrior of Light had given him a task. His girl had made him a promise. Now that he had finally said the words, it was somehow easier to perform that task and await the fulfillment of that promise.

Perhaps one day, he wouldn’t have to say or even think of those words again at all. For now, it was simply enough to breathe.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2021 #9: Friable

Emelia hadn’t really experienced snow and ice, until she came to Coerthas.

Corran laughed as she had stepped carefully through the crackling drifts, the stuff looking like waves of sand but sparkling in the light. Walking through, it crumbled easily around her booted feet and seeped everywhere.

“It looks pretty,” she said. “But I’m not sure I like the cold and wet.”

“Gotta live with it,” he replied. “Besides, there is an upside.”

“Oh?”

He pulled her into a close embrace. “The warming up after.”

“Corran!” She laughed, knowing her cheeks were lighting up. He just grinned and leaned in to kiss her.

As they parted, she sighed. “Perhaps sometime we will go to Thavnair. And you’ll see why I say even what you call summer here is too cold”

“I think I’d melt if I went to Thavnair,” he japed. “Besides, too much work to do here, even in the midst of winter.”

“We shall see.”

“You miss it?” He asked, more seriously.

She thought about it, and then shrugged. “Sometimes; mostly certain people, or familiar things like food or festivals. The colors most definitely--Coerthas is so drab.”

“Wait ‘til spring; the flowers’ll riot and you’ll forget how blank the land is through the winter.”

She smiled and leaned her head against his chest. A simple man, he claimed, but the imaginative ways he sometimes used words in unintentional poetry was endearing.

After her adolescence spent scorning the boys who had tried to woo her, Emelia had not expected to fall so hard, so swiftly--and certainly not for a young man in a foreign land so far from home, on what was meant to be a one time trip aiding her elder cousin’s expanding trade. But her plans had crumbled like the snowy drifts as she had gotten to know Corran, and defying all reason--not to mention the concerns of her relatives--she had stayed with him.

And while there was a beauty all its own to Coerthas in any season, she would not have given the land another thought were it not for him and his love for his home.

“Is that why you wish to wait until then to make me your wife?” She asked, only partly teasing.

“If bright colors make you happy, then I’m happy,” he replied, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

Despite the cold, she melted.

—-

“Here we go, dearie, almost ready” Michelle said, crushing the nuts with the pestle and mixing the crumbs into the berry paste.

Emelia nodded while continuing to hold and bounce her wailing infant as she paced across the small kitchen and back again, trying futilely to shush him. “I cannot thank you enough,” she said over the cries. “If I were home I would know exactly where to go, what to get, but here…”

Michelle smiled. “Teething babies do happen everywhere, dearie. But we’ll get the little fellow sorted out soon enough.” She examined the paste she had made and nodded. “There we are; give him here.”

Emelia hesitated for a moment, but finally passed her son to the elezen, who cooed and bounced him on her hip. “Here we go, my love,” Michelle said, offering her finger covered in the paste. “That’s it.”

Emelia watched, anxious, as Zaine initially fought, tears streaming from his scrunched up eyes over his chubby cheeks. It took a few tries for Michelle to get her finger into his mouth, his hand gripping hers. Soon enough his cries quieted, still sniffling as he gummed Michelle’s finger.

“Feels better already, doesn’t it? Yes it does,” Michelle crooned, kissing his forehead. “He’s such a good boy, Emelia.��

Emelia smiled wearily, leaning heavily against a cabinet. “Hasn’t felt like it while fighting this.”

“I would guess not,” Michelle said. “This isn’t something we’re meant to do alone, after all.”

“Corran’s done more than his share, despite having to spend the days in the fields…”

“Well he’s a good father, of course,” Michelle said. “But you know what I mean, dearie.”

Emelia pushed off the cabinet and made her way to the sink. The dishes from both supper last night and breakfast that morning waited still. “I never expected...well, to be honest, I never expected to marry and be a mother at all, let alone doing it...so far from my community.”

“Corran’s family ought to be helping,” Michelle sniffed. “I dislike speaking ill but that woman is being stubborn.”

Emelia continued to scrub dishes. “I try not to think too hard about it,” she said quietly. “I never thought he’d give up his family for me.”

“Perhaps he thought it fair, since you gave up Thavnair for him.”

Emelia stopped scrubbing, looking out the window over the sink. Outside the leaves were turning into a brilliant cacophony of reds, golds, and oranges, dry fallen leaves skittering and blowing across the cobble street past their small yard.

“I sometimes think of convincing him to go back with me. I think he would like it, heat and all,” she smiled fondly. “My family’s letters are all happy about what I tell them, at least.”

“His mother’s pride isn’t your fault, dearie.”

“I know.” She did, truly, but at the same time, how did she explain the guilt at watching her beloved’s face crumble as the weight of the words thrown back and forth with his mother finally settled in him, clinging to Emelia as he shook, not allowing himself to cry as the mountain winds blew away the remaining dust of his family relationships.

——

The ice beat against the roof in a random staccato, and a part of Emelia’s brain that still functioned detached from all else idly wondered if it could wear through the wood and stone to pierce and freeze them.

It would be preferable to the pain she experienced now.

“Keep holding the rope,” the conjurer urged, the warm pine sensation of her magic washing over Emelia again, though it did nothing to relieve her agony.

“Almost there, Emelia,” the chirugeon said, maddeningly calm. “One more good push.”

She screamed, her body on fire and why by all the gods was this so much harder than last time?! The world went blank for a moment, and she wasn’t certain if she had actually passed out or not, but she felt like she was blinking awake.

Her baby cried, and Emelia wept in relief.

And further pain, the fire continuing its course through her lower body.

“Give the baby to her father,” the conjurer was saying, sounding distant though she stood right by Emelia. “We’re not finished here.”

“Halone guide us,” the chirugeon responded. The baby now sounded far away, through a wall perhaps, Emelia’s sense of time and space distorted as she felt turned to ash, the ice storm’s winds about to blow her shattered form away.

“Better to pray to Nophica for this,” the conjurer said.

“To both,” the chirugeon answered. “For this is a battlefield as much as a birthing room. Emelia! Stay with us! You still need to meet your daughter!”

Her daughter. Emelia breathed through the pain, willing the broken pieces of herself to hold together just a little bit longer.

——-

Emelia wasn’t quite sure what she was doing back here.

The carriage would arrive soon to take them away. The road would be long and likely quite hard, but eventually they would make it to the Thanalan port that would see them to a ship to carry them to Thavnair.

Carry them...home.

She stared at the ruin in front of her. Twelve, almost thirteen years of her life, gone just like that. She had left for a day. In that short span of hours her heart had been torn apart, everything keeping her in this cold, colorless land up in smoke. Literally.

She reached a hand to what had once been the front door frame. The ashy wood crumbled under her touch, falling with a dusty sound instead of a wooden clatter, the wind blowing much of it away.

Emelia swayed, feeling much like that frame, her heart ground to pieces, wanting to fly screaming through the sky…

A small hand tugged at hers. She looked down into Aeryn’s too-big grey eyes.

Emelia forced a smile, the pieces of her heart pulling back together again. If not for them, she would have gone mad by now. They needed her--and gods above and below, did she need them.

“We’re going to go back to the chapel soon, sweetling. Where’s your brother?”

“I’m here!” Zaine answered, coming from around the side of the house, covered in dust and ash. “Aer, look what I found,” he said, holding something in his hand to show his little sister.

Aeryn remained at Emelia’s side, as she had since their desperate ride home to this disaster. Emelia couldn’t go more than a few paces without her daughter, the child’s usual curiosity and bravery dampened.

Aeryn waited for Zaine to come close, and then looked at what he held. One of the tin soldiers from a whole troop he once had, probably melted to slag by the flames. This battered little fellow yet survived. Aeryn smiled, but said nothing.

Emelia noticed Zaine’s own smile flicker briefly, but he quickly rebounded and continued, keeping up the brave face. Her heart ached; he was trying so very hard. He was only ten summers. He focused his worry and energy on his little sister, ever her protector, as worried about her as Emelia was.

The girl had never stopped talking before. She had barely made a sound since that day.

“I see you went inside when I asked you not to,” Emelia said dryly.

Zaine shrugged. “Not really; just my top half when I caught a glimpse through the window. My feet stayed outside.”

“Zaine,” she almost wanted to laugh. Always so audacious, her boy.

He grinned, knowing she wasn’t really willing to scold him, and gods, he looked like his father. He became serious again soon enough. “I wanted something to just...remember. That’s all.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to the top of his head, trying not to tremble, not let the tears fall. She had to be stronger than that, for them.

“I understand,” she managed to say. “Come on. We have time enough to get you cleaned up before we have to leave.”

As they walked to the chapel, she spared one last glance back to the wreckage. More ashy pieces fell, some clattering after all, as the wind blew.

Even once they fell into her family’s relieved arms on the sweet, humid shores of Thavnair, it took more than a year--and re-meeting one of her previously scorned youthful admirers, now a widower with three children himself--for the bitter taste of Coerthan ash to leave Emelia’s mouth.

—---

“You’re ever so much stronger than I was,” Emelia said, watching her daughter write at the desk across the room.

Aeryn looked up, head tilting, her expression quizzical. Tanzel said she looked just like Emelia when she did that.

“I’ve felt brittle for so much longer than this illness,” Emelia said. “Like I could just fall apart and let the wind carry me away.”

Aeryn stood and came to Emelia’s bed, carefully sitting on the edge of the mattress, taking her hand. “Do you need anything?”

Emelia smiled. “To be whole again. But there’s only one way that’s going to happen anymore.”

Aeryn’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Should I get Papa?”

Emelia shook her head, trying to hold tight to Aeryn’s hand. She had so little strength left. “I shouldn’t have held you here; it was selfish of me.”

“I don’t mind,” Aeryn smiled.

“Yes you do. As much as I would have if my mother had held me back. Perhaps more. What pains have I spared you--but what joys have I withheld?”

“It’s all right. You need me now. I’m here.”

“You should join your brother,” Emelia said. “He’s always needed you, too.”

Aeryn’s smile faltered. “Maybe someday,” she said.

“Soon,” Emelia replied, trying to squeeze Aeryn’s hand again. “When those dragon winds finally have their way and blow me apart.”

“Mama?”

“Nothing. Sing me a story, Aer. It’s the best way to fall asleep.”

It took a moment for her daughter to compose herself, but soon Aeryn was gently singing a familiar lullaby. Emelia lost track of the words, hearing only her girl’s voice, as she drifted to sleep, wondering if she’d wake up, and if not, if there was a way she could leave some of the crumbled pieces of herself with them to shore them up, after so long relying on others to hold her together.

[autumnslance]

Prompt #10: Foster

((A difficult one, even though I have ready info in Aeryn’s own backstory. Burned through a couple ideas I may go back and write longer stories for later, so for now, have a short scene written late. She’s about nine years old here.))

Tanzel found his stepdaughter sitting behind the chocobo shed, knees drawn up, using a small stick to draw in the dirt. She did not look up immediately, but she had to know he was there.

“There you are,” he said, his relief real. She did not respond. He recognized a proper childish sulk when he saw one, and so invited himself to sit next to her among the weeds and chocobo feathers. “You did not return to your class, and worried everyone,” he said. He did not expect a response; the girl was still very quiet, even after four years since Emelia had brought her children home. “What makes such a determined little scholar miss her classes, hrm?”

There was a hesitation, that settled into a continued silence.

“I like your drawings,” Tanzel said, focusing instead on the lines she was scratching into the dirt. Circles and runes mostly, like the arcane books she enjoyed looking at. There were a few unhappy stick figures present as well, perhaps representing the sources of her displeasure. “Paper and ink will last longer,” he pointed out. “We could fetch some, if you like.”

She shook her head, and suddenly scratched out the rough little marks she’d surrounded herself with. She trembled--was it fear? Pain? Anger? He couldn’t tell.

“Aeryn,” he asked quietly. “I want to help. Please; what do you need?”

There was another moment of hesitation, and then she suddenly rose and turned, flinging herself at him so quickly he barely had time to bring his arms up to catch her, shifting to better hold and rock her as she cried into his shoulder.

She had never displayed such emotion around him before, preferring to hide, going to her mother or brother. Tanzel had started to accept that she simply did not trust him, or feel comfortable with him, treating him like a guest in her home even though it had been nearly a year since he had married her mother. Aeryn was polite, respectful, even sweet, and got along with her stepsiblings better than her brother did. But she held her stepfather at a distance, and so Tanzel had respected her bounds, to keep the peace.

Her sobs faded into hiccups and sniffles, and he rubbed her back, listening to the chocobos gossip in their stalls. She still had not told him what had put her in such a state, or who was responsible--gods help them when he found out--but that could wait.

For now, his little girl needed to be held, and that was enough for them both.

[autumnslance]

Prompt #9: Dense

“How can you stand reading that?” Zaine asked, poking his sister’s shoulder.

“It’s interesting,” Aeryn answered.

“If you say so. That’s a lot of small print with a lot of long words. Can you even pronounce half of those?”

Aeryn flicked her eyes up at him as she slowly turned the page, and nodded once.

“Just saying, kiddo, seems like awfully dense material for a little girl to be reading.”

“You’re dense,” she replied. “And I’m not little anymore.”

“Hey now!” He wrapped his arm around her neck in a faux headlock, causing her to fuss and flail. “You’re always gonna be little to me, so deal with it.” He mussed her hair.

“Ugh! Get off!” Aeryn dropped her book in her lap to shove him.

“Zaine, leave your sister be,” their stepfather said as he entered. “You ought to be helping Kai with the firewood.”

“Sorry, Papa, lost track of time,” Zaine replied, grabbing his jacket to head outside.

“Mess with Kai if you like,” Papa said as he sat and unlaced his boots. “He’s your size and about the same reading level.” He winked at Aeryn, making her giggle.

Zaine made a face, though his own grin ruined the effect. He rushed out, and Aeryn released a long breath, fixing her hair and picking her book up again.

“Don’t mind him,” Papa said. “You keep reading those heavy books, and maybe someday we can say we got a mage in the family.”

“I don’t,” Aeryn said. “‘Sides, he wants me to learn magic, too, so I can help him when he becomes an adventurer.”

Papa shook his head. “Well, we’ll see. For now, though, best put a marker in your place and get ready for supper.”

Aeryn carefully put aside her book and scampered off, leaving her stepfather to look at the book she had been reading. Something about aetherology; he couldn’t even pronounce it properly, and wondered how a girl still a few moons from thirteen fared.

[autumnslance]

Personal WoL Timeline for FFXIV

Probably not interesting to anyone but me, but I’m keeping a doc where I roughly sketch out my personal timeline for my WoL and supporting cast of OCs, since we’re never getting a formal one per Yoshida. A lot of it is “when do I decide certain sidequests happen?” “Which job quests do each of them do? When?” (that’s mostly on its own doc tho some shows up here) “What point of their lives were they at when X thing happened before the game story begins?” “How do I muck with early ARR for Aeryn’s version of events?” “How old is everyone roughly?” “How long do MSQ events take in my headcanon?”

Anyway, current draft is copied below the cut; this is subject to change based on whims and content completed and random inspiration.

6A = 6th Astral Era. 7U and 7A mark 7th Umbral and 7th Astral Eras; for ease, I keep the count starting at the Calamity, rather than restarting the years again at the end of ARR, since the 7th Umbral is only 5 years long.

6A 1520: A pre-adolescent Iyna and other younglings taken from their homes for re-education and training into “proper Garlean citizens.” She is eventually granted the surname “Caulidius”.

6A 1550: Dark Autumn is born in the East Shroud, the seventh of eventually ten children, to farmers Iron Summer and Singing WIllow.

6A 1552: Aeryn Striker is born in Coerthas, the second child of Corran Striker, an Ishgardian farmer and his Thavnairian wife, Emelia. Zaine is 5 years older, but the siblings are nearly inseparable and share a close bond.

6A 1557: Before burning Ferndale, the Horde attacks Aeryn’s village. Her father is among the casualties. Emelia takes the children back to Thavnair.

In truth, Corran was secretly a heretic who transformed and called on an ally when confronted by Azure Dragoon Alberic Bale. Alberic lied about Corran to protect the innocent Strikers so they could leave Coerthas.

6A 1559: C’oretta Khell born in Ul’dah to pugilist gladiator Khell the Clanless and his prima ballerina wife, C’leiha. They are modern city dwellers, taking on more hyuran and lalafellian traditions, than miqo’te; all they use are the name conventions.

6A 1560: Iyna obtains the rank of Optio, now Iyna pyr Caulidius. She is assigned to Bozja.

Emelia remarries to Tanzel Eadir, a widower with adolescent children of his own. It takes time for the Striker children to warm up to their blended family; Aeryn becomes close with the eldest sister, Rashae, looking up to her almost as much as she adores Zaine.

6A 1562: Bozja Citadel Destroyed.

Iyna deserts the Garlean military, changes her surname to “Cauld”, and briefly joins a rebel group she had been feeding information to in the months prior. Meeting with them in secret is the only reason she survived the disaster. She starts having “seizures” that let her see peoples’ pasts.

Dark Autumn is a pre/young adolescent living with her large family in the East Shroud.

6A 1565: Age 18, Zaine Striker commits to at least 5 years in the Radiant Host like many other young people from their community. While a valuable experience, and he does his best and receives accolades for his work, even set on a fast track to officer, he’s not satisfied with a soldier's life.

6A 1570: Zaine doesn’t re-enlist in the Host. He instead leaves for Eorzea to be an adventurer. Emelia convinces Aeryn to continue her studies, not revealing how ill she is yet, nor that it’s terminal. Once Aeryn realizes, however, Emelia convinces her not to tell Zaine in their letters.

Zaine’s Echo wakes in a starshower, and he eventually finds himself at the center of events alongside Minfilia’s Path of the Twelve and Louisoix’s Circle of Knowing as the realm’s Warrior of Light.

6A 1571: Age 19, Aeryn commits to a formal course of study in a last attempt to learn magic despite her aetheric issues.

Dark Autumn is early-20s and part of her uncle’s Free Company of adventurers.

C’oretta Khell is 12 yrs old in Ul’dah, living an upper middle class lifestyle.

Iyna is living in obscurity in Kugane, having fled Othard’s mainland for a time after Garleans wiped out her rebel cell.

The 7th Calamity (6th Astral Era ends at 1572)

Zaine’s letters stop coming. Emelia’s condition drastically worsens.

Dark is the only survivor of her FC at the edge of the fighting at Carteneau. She returns home to the East Shroud for a long recovery period. She has a few odd visions now and then, learning things she shouldn’t know. Thinks it’s part of her trauma.

Khell is killed in the riots in Ul’dah, C’leiha falling into a deep depression; Master Hamon and his Pugilists watch over her and C’oretta, as Khell had been a guild member.

7U Yr 2: Emelia’s condition worsens enough that Aeryn quits her failing studies after all to care for her, despite her stepfamily’s concerns.

Iyna returns to Othard to join another, eventually doomed, Resistance cell. Many are convinced the former soldier is bad luck. Her “seizures” don’t help.

7U Yr 3: Emelia succumbs to her illness.

C’leiha, meanwhile, shows signs of being delusional when not in her fugue; she’s unable to entirely comprehend a post-Calamity reality and the changes to her life and the realm.

Dark thanks the gods for her stable home life and family, as that’s what gets her through her own recovery without developing full-blown severe PTSD. She still has nightmares and moments of lockup however.

7U Yr 4: Aeryn decides to return to Eorzea, wanting a new start and to find her brother, or at least learn what happened to him.

Dark returns to Gridania’s guilds for retraining, deciding to strike out on her own as an adventurer. Miounne finds out about Dark’s visions (cuz Mother does that) and points the local Scions at her.

C’oretta formally joins the Pugilists Guild, following her father’s footsteps instead of her mothers as a professional dancer. Admits to Chuchuto that she has weird dreams and knows things about people that she shouldn’t. Chuchuto tells Momodi, who tells the Scions.

Iyna meets Fran during a mission and soon joins Lente’s Tears.

Late Yr 4: ARR Starts. Aeryn arrives and begins adventuring in Gridania (If I ever get to writing it out, this section may see further timeline revision).

Aeryn meets Dark in Gridania when training with the Lancers and Archers; do those quests together.

E-Sumi-Yan tells Aeryn her aether is fine; in fact, she has deeper reserves than anyone he’s ever met. She should easily be able to learn magic, he is confused by her pre-Calamity difficulties.

Aeryn becomes Gridania’s Envoy to suggest the Remembrance Ceremonies. Delivers to Ul’dah first, briefly meeting C’oretta by chance. Thancred, keeping an eye on C’oretta, notices the Envoy, heard some things from his colleagues.

Limsa; duty as Envoy complete, Aeryn gets word from Baderon about disturbing situations in the countryside. Goes to investigate, meets Y’shtola. Shortened form of Limsa’s opening, followed by cleaning up pirates in Sastasha.

Return to Gridania to deal with Tam-Tara, finds out Dark has joined an Ul’dahn Free Company (with the Scions as a quiet patron group among their clients).

Aeryn returns to Ul’dah to meet Dark’s friends, gets caught up looking for a certain missing noblewoman, formally meets Thancred (realizes he is also a Sharlayan scholar), truncated form of the Ul’dah opening. Story progresses mostly normally from there.

7U Yr 5: 5 year Calamity anniversary marked by Remembrance Ceremonies.

Aeryn does not formally join a Grand Company; just skip/smooth over that. Does attend the Remembrance Ceremonies and meets the twins, though.

Aeryn begins learning RDM after Titan, working with X’rhun and finding Arya; maybe before returning to the Chapel and meeting Alphinaud. Trains as a DRG in Coerthas with Alberic, but goes back to RDM for rescuing Scions and facing Garleans. BRD is piecemeal through the entire 2.0 MSQ whenever in/around the Twelveswood.

Most of the rest of ARR happens as written. Patch events mostly happen relatively quickly.

Job Notes: Aeryn learns from and hangs out with the BRD and MNK trainers, but Dark and C’oretta go through those quests. Same later with DNC and C’oretta. Dark is an advanced LNC, but not a true DRG; Aeryn does the DRG quests while in Coerthas during 2.0 and immediately after. Other Jobs/classes listed in their own doc as necessary/inspiration hit.

Scion Ages Note: Aeryn is about 25 in Year 5. Dark’s two years older. C’oretta’s about 18. Iyna is about 67.

Twins left home as soon as they turned 16, so start the game at that age.

All other characters start ARR about a year/year-and-a-half younger than listed in the first Lorebook, which is written/”set” right at the end of 3.3 (Revenge of the Horde).

7A Yr 6: Patch 2.55 Happens; Braves Betrayal, Scions scattered.

In the weeks languishing at Dragonhead waiting to enter Ishgard, Aeryn stumbles on Fray, dropped outside the city instead. Slightly modified early quest chain (trouble with girl and knights at Whitebrim instead maybe?), does DRK during pre/early 3.0.

Heavensward picks up about a month after the Banquet. Most of HW happens as written.

Scions are in Ishgard a month before the sham trial and rescuing Raubahn. The Fortemps brothers’ quest chains take a few days each. DRG quests happen early-ish. HW DRK mostly happens later.

Dark & C’oretta handle the Ul’dah parts of the story. They’re the ones who rescue Raubahn and deal with the Braves.

Aeryn & Alphy don’t come home until needing to pause the search for the Soleil, so return to Rising Stones, then go to Ul’dah to meet Pipin and Urianger, then to Gridania to snag Y’shtola.

Patch events follow each other relatively quickly; a few days or couple weeks between most major events

7A Yr 7: Patch 3.55 Happens; Omega vs Shinryu. Gosetsu and Yugiri return East. Lyse reveal.

Stormblood starts nearly immediately after, just a few days as opposed to the weeks waiting between ARR and HW. Happens mostly as written.

7A Yr 8: Patch 4.1 MSQ Events; there’s a LOT going on in StB, much of it travel and military action. The StB Patches take place over 6-ish months; roughly a patch MSQ event per month, give or take a week or two here and there.

Omega raid happens entirely before 4.2 while still in Gyr Abania.

Return to Ivalice, Four Lords, and Hildibrand happen in the period between 4.2 and 4.3.

Iyna meets the WoL and her friends during the Ivalice stuff, is “lent” to the Scions as an affiliate with Lente’s Tears, once Fran realizes Iyna’s “seizures” = Echo.

DRK StB quests happen once Aeryn’s sent back to Ishgard for healing post-4.55, before she returns to Revenant’s Toll and the beacon leading to the First is found.

7A Late Yr 8: On the Source, events of Shadowbringers take place over 6-ish months, given things still seem a little sped up relative to the First, especially in 5.0. Not a lot is going on aside from Estinien & Gaius’s wacky adventures, Werlyt, and Bozja.

Aeryn crosses the Rift alone; the other ladies mind the Source. During this time, they end up doing some of their alt job quests (esp Iyna).

Iyna, Dark, & C’oretta handle Bozja mostly during 5.0 thru the patches. Aeryn only pops by in the space between 5.1 & 5.2 to help with Delubrium Reginae & again sometime post 5.3 for Dalriada.

Iyna, Dark, & C’oretta mostly handle Werlyt Weapons while the Scions are still on the First. Aeryn helps with Ruby before returning to the First in 5.2; she visits Terncliffe to help with Diamond sometime post 5.3.

5.55 happens 6-8 months after 4.55, leading into Year 9.

Given time diff, Aeryn’s technically a year older than she ought to be otherwise.

On the First, events of 5.0 through 5.3 take about 15-18 months, before time syncs up better with events on the Source.

Ran’jit dies by Thancred’s hand at the Trolley duty, Aeryn faces a more dangerous pair of Jongleurs at Eulmore. Short prompt response in “Living Memory”

A month or two between 5.0, 5.1, and 5.2 each.

5.2 and 5.3 happen very quickly; only a couple weeks between them at most.

Due to aetheric imbalance issues, Eden happens roughly as it occurs in patch sequence; after 5.0, between 5.1 and 5.2, then after 5.3.

Rewrote Eden8 “Refulgence” in “Return to Dreams of Ice”

YoRHa didn’t happen; weird isolated incident occurred in the digsite, the dwarf twins hit Aeryn with sleepdust at the Festival, and the raids were a fever dream. Yes I’m salty.

Patch 5.5: In the time waiting for the Telopheroi to make their move (maybe a couple weeks), Aeryn learns about her father’s heretic history, and deals with Avengret, his draconic patron. Her student/mentor relationship with Alberic is damaged given he kept these truths from her for years.

7A Early Yr 9: Endwalker 6.0.

Limsa to Sharlayan by ship is canonically approximately 2 weeks.

Aeryn & the boys go to Thavnair first for about a week, then she joins Team Research in Sharlayan for another week while the men stay in Thavnair, until Zot. Give that a few days.

Team Thavnair runs into Aeryn’s family after meeting Vrtra; the Eadirs give the Scions a place to stay whenever in Radz-at-Han.

Garlemald is roughly a month or so of travel, setting up, trying to help, etc. Iyna remains in Sharlayan, Dark & C’oretta accompany the Ilsabard Contingent.

Moon to Thavnair to the First is a really rough sennight (time on the First has slowed considerably by now, nearly matching the Source).

Aeryn spends 2 weeks in Elpis doing chores (sidequests) as Hermes stalls and then she learns from Venat as they investigate. In the present, a bit over a month passes as the situation deteriorates. 

It takes time to gather resources for the aetherburner, plus travel times; figure 3 weeks for the expeditions and rush to Sharlayan as Scions prep.

During that time is when the Role Quests happen.

Dark, C’oretta, Iyna remain on Eitherys to protect and help while Scions are gone.

With Magic Travel, Ultima Thule is a really stressful 3ish days round trip.

Looking at roughly 4 months total, give or take.

EW Role Quests:

Dark returns home to Gridania to handle Tank.

Iyna goes to the East for Aiming.

C’oretta goes to Limsa for Melee & surprises everyone.

Aeryn handles Caster & Healer, porting back & forth restlessly.

7A Yr 9: Newfound Adventures: Timeline determined at a later date.

Aeryn needs time to recover from Endsinger & Zenos. (??) months of physical therapy, alchemy, and magic. Indulges in only short travel, minor adventures. She goes on the exploration of Alzadaal’s Legacy, but Dark does the fighting; Aeryn’s there in a research capacity.

Dark accompanies Aeryn and Team Void Exploration while Iyna and C’oretta aid the Radiant Host in minding the Gate.

Future/Side Content:

Pandaemonium Ideas: Elpis was a 1 time trip. The crystal houses a record of what happened with Pandaemonium, sent forward in time. Events are actually handled by Azem/Icarus/friends, WoL is accessing the memories with the Echo, in a style akin to ST:TNG’s “The Inner Light” episode. That cliffhanger post-Abyssos may kibosh this wait for part 3.

Myths of the Realm: Aeryn & friends, matters of faith among the Eorzeans a debate. Iyna’s curious due to her own lack of religion. Aeryn’s atheism revealed finally? When? Dunno yet. We’ll see how story unfolds.

Manderville Weapons!?!? Def up in the air.