#The Garlean Knight

[captainqster]

[nini-dirthara-lothlenanas]

𝔉𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔎𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰

[lavampira]

oh d’alia has not been doing so hot during the garlemald arc, not one bit. she knows better than to give into naïve hope and idealism by this point, a lesson that the banquet and dragonsong war taught her painfully well, but it’s a harsh perspective shift; she’s been lauded as eorzea’s champion for years, as savior to ishgard, to ala mhigo, to doma, and even the entirety of the first, but to these people, she’s the enemy, monstrous and a symbol of everything that threatens what has been instilled into them so keenly that they refuse her help, would rather succumb to the cold and starvation and animal attacks than accept it even amidst the tempering crisis. and possibly worst of all for her to comprehend is that the garlean citizens fear her, not unlike the terror she knew at only 13 summers when the black wolf invaded mor dhona and she fled her home territory when it wrought a battle that altered the land; it’s not the same and she knows it’s not, but the garleans see her presence no differently, and it’s hard to take, especially when she and the others in the contingent only want to aid them.

[fatedroses]

Sneaky mysterious ARR-era Tsukiko.

[anarkhebringer]

Felis continues to feed bunny and lizard boy players with each release

[voidsentprinces]

Reminder: A Realm Reborn wasn't particularly about us. It was about the Eorzean Factions, it was about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and their interactions with and thwarting Gaius and the XIVth Legion. We were just a useful champion slowly growing to fame but not truly a Warrior of Light until literally the prelude to the Castrum raiding mission.

The Parting of Glass wasn't about us either. It was, once again, about the world. And how it had begun changing after Gaius's fall and the brief period of peace away from Garlemald's Shadow. About Alphinaud beginning his arc of growth with hubris and the creation the Crystal Braves and what it might of looked like IF the Scion's good nature was lent to anyone and everyone. And thus opening itself up to the very corruption Minfilia feared to move away from the Waking Sands and to the Rising Stones in the first place.

Heavensward isn't about us. It is about Alphinaud's continue growth, learning of Ishgard's past and history. Hubris, arrogance and narrow viewing lead Alphinaud to steps of the Foundation, it has lead Estinien astray and made Ysayle believe she is a messiah incarnate. And through the journey, each of them grow as they learn the terrible truth about the Dragonsong War. Estinien in particular has his eyes opened and no longer simply seeks revenge on Nidhogg but to get to the bottom of it all. So no other shepherd's son has to live as he has. Ysayle learns she is a shade and a faux Shiva not truly Hraesvelgr's beloved or even in the same category as her. She learns swallow such delusions and embrace what Saint Shiva stood for in its entirety. Which means leaning to lay the road for peace between Ishgard and the Dragons and opening a path to this by sacrificing herself for those she loved so dearly. Alphinaud learns from all of this and more and is humbled by the duty of a knight, the fervor of a dragoon, the sacrifice of a saint, and the courage of his companions and of Sharlayan's arrogance from Master Matoya. To put others before himself and allow others to support him when he falls.

The Far Edge of Fate isn't about us. It was about how Ishgard carries on after Thordan and the Heavens Ward are shown to be the monsters they are. How the remnants of the church, the knights of Ishgard, and the civilian population react to the realization with rejection. How facing off against Nidhogg possessing Estinien, the Warriors of Darkness, and the machinations of Ilberd force Eorzea and Ishgard to look inward and know truly where they should go from there. To ignore the easier road and take the higher path no matter the strife and hardship it provides them. Because when they reach the otherside they would be better for it. Finding that courage, after five years of procrastinating and hemming and hawing, the Eorzean Alliance finally begin to mobilize to free Ala Mhigo from Garlemald and perhaps take on the Empire itself.

Stormblood isn't about us. It is about Doma and Ala Mhigo fighting for the survival of their people and cultures. Facing the parts of their society that were spurned and used as tools of hatred against their principles. That provided the necessary cracks required for Garlemald to break them down and oppress them in the first place. And how reforging under those values and those long histories of violence can make a new path and come to terms to over throw the tyrants who fed on their weakened states and make a strong unity still.

A Requiem of Heroes wasn't about us, it was about the world facing down the barrel of war with Garlemald. And uncovering its origins, its founding father was an Ascian. How Varis is forced to face down the lie as Elidibus wears the skin of his son and the great grandfather he and other Garleans were taught was a walking god in all but name was a sham and a daemon bent on causing more pain and suffering than mankind ever deserved. How the effigies of hate and pain choose to use their fervor to help their people instead of turning against them once more. How every person can change and be given a second chance. How that second chance is what that person requires or if they are pushed the wrong direction, can caused tragedy to unfold. And lastly, it is about our companions, slowly. One by one. Being dragged to the unknown. The story slowly taking away the players on the stage until finally...

Shadowbringers was about us. It was about how we were instrumental to the world so much that it lost nearly all hope in another timeline. How a group of your fondest friends began and how your comrade's furthest decendents acting on the hope of your legend and stories. To provide a plan of action and lead to happier world. How even when everything seems lost and gone and your purpose seems to turned everything around you into twisted monstrosities. That you can bring the night and wait in comfort for a dawn to bring better days. And the tenacity of your aid providing a world on the brink, the love, the compassion, the understanding, the strength, and the will to stand up to a flood of destruction and spit fate in the eye. Even it costs them everything, they keep fighting until they can see a brighter tomorrow.

Death unto Dawn was about what the tomorrow brings. How it could be another fight but to find what is WORTH fighting for. The memories of those you fight and lived amongst, old studies and things of the past being made to provide the answer to the future, making right wrongs even against those you had wronged unfairly, and to gather together and keep each other safe. You are not alone out here. There are those who will help you along to a brighter future.

Endwalker was about you and yours. About how everyone reacts to an uncertain future in different manners. How some would make ready to flee at the approaching storm, while others would fight, and others might even push you further to the edge. But even when all is lost, call upon the memory of happier times to light the way with hearts aligned shining brilliantly against despair and finding your place amongst those memories.

Growing Light was about us teaching another to hear, feel, and think and experience the world seemingly gone. That everything needn't be give or take. It can be a charitable, warmer place if we make it. It can be kinder and even in the face of unrelenting and undying destruction. Hope will spit out a tooth and stand up once more.

I say all of this because, I've seen people mad that Dawntrail is leaning hard about being about Wuk Lamat and others. To which I say so what if Dawntrail is about Wuk Lamat and Koana? So what if its not about us? We've had four story lines about us. Now we must impart what we've learned to the future as they face similar and sometimes overwhelming odds. To stand tall against the onslaught and make their own choices, their own way to bring a smile to all they hold dear. How family needn't be blood related, they can just be a group who sit down at the table at the end of the day. And speak, laugh, cry, and love. Unto this trail to dawn we shall light way for the future of our world and everything this new dawn brings is worth it.

[rainofaugustsith]

These lines right here sum up why I feel FFXIV has much more superior, nuanced writing than the Star Wars franchise.

Star Wars has you believe that one side is right regardless of what they do, and the other side is so evil, rotten to the core in every way that their entire people, planets. culture, language, religion - everything - should be permanently erased if they can't be converted to an entirely different culture, language, and creed (And don't get me started on how they conveniently made the Sith alphabet - again considered terrabad - virtually identical to the Hebrew alphabet). It's a very black and white, dogmatic view that IMHO hearkens back to the evangelical belief that only one point of view gets to go to heaven, and if you don't believe that, resist converting and want to hang onto your identity, you're going to hell. And you're certainly going to hell if you point out anything questionable the other side has done.

What you discover in FFXIV is nuance.

Every single job can be used for good; every single job can be used for evil. The heroes of one story are the villains of another. Every heroic gesture comes with a very real price. Nobody is beyond reproach, and that includes the player character. Actions one person takes for the greater good can lead to devastating damage for others.

The "get back to nature" white mages rule a city-state where xenophobia rules the day and the elementals run a reign of terror. White magic executed without proper training can be fatal.

The black mages who congregate in a hall for the gods of the dead have an alliance among the marginalized tribes that spans all three city-states and saves Eorzea from calamity. Black magic executed without proper training can be fatal.

The Dark Knights dedicate themselves to protecting those who need their help, and teach that one's dark side isn't something to vanquish, but something to hear, acknowledge and make peace with.

The Dragoon story shows that one's archenemy can become one's ally - or consume them.

The fearsome reapers who treat with the dead are actually helping the downtrodden.

The community working hard to keep the peace and move forward in a productive way are ex-pirates.

And so on. Nobody is expected to forgive those who have wronged them. Atonement is seen as something that involves work on the part of the perpetrator, not the participation of the survivors. But atonement is there and in several cases characters do better.

Any thoughts that any group in Eorzea needs to be eliminated are eventually dispelled completely. Marginalization of various groups is something that eventually does need to be answered for, and is presented as a problem, not a necessity. When Eorzea finally marches on their nemesis, the Garlean Empire, it is on an aid mission, not conquest. There are no attempts to convert. Just to help.

Both Garlemald in Endwalker and Ziost in SWTOR deal with the issue of murderous possessed people. In SWTOR, the Republic - remember, our "good guys" - response with Saresh is to send an invading army to increase the hurt. In FFXIV, the Alliance's response is to send an army to help, with Scions striking out into the snow and into the smoldering ruins to rescue anyone they can.

If you asked me if I would live anywhere in a Star Wars universe, it would be an emphatic HELL NO. But FFXIV? I feel like they are at least striving for better, with common ground and peaceful co-existence, and everything is nuanced.

[hazelkjt]

OC Introductory Post

Hello, and thank you for stopping by my blog! I'm Hazel and this is my main character for everything FFXIV related, from raiding to rp'ing. My pronouns are he/him, I'm an early 20's college student still trying to figure out what to do with my life, but I'm getting there!

I had mentioned this before but I'll reiterate it here: this blog was originally just for my main FFXIV OC, Hazel Kha, but because trying to manage multiple blogs was pushing me away from doing anything with these character I'm consolidating this one to have all of my OCs on it rather than just one. Those old blogs will remain up to keep the content from disappearing but I will not be utilizing them anymore. I'm sorry if you followed me here exclusively for the Hazel stuff, she will still be the main focus of most of my posts here but there will be others posted up here and there.

I'm situated on Zalera (Crystal) and spend most of my time either raiding or taking GPose shots, but regardless I look forward to seeing everyone's creativity here on the Tumbles.

Anyways, onto the intro bits to them all below the Read More

Hazel Kha

Age: 24 as of Dawntrail

Race: Xaela Au Ra

Height: 6'4"/193cm

Nameday: 25th Sun of the First Umbral Moon (February 22nd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Bisexual

A young hunter and warrior of the Kha tribe, Hazel is a proud daughter of the Azim Steppe who has always longed to see more, to do more. Through her mother's collection of foreign books and literature she came to daydream and wonder of the lands beyond the Steppe. Her desire for adventure high a fever pitch when coming into possession of a wandering samurai's soul crystal, and all the memories and knowledge it contained. She would hold on to the stone dearly for years, until one fateful day she had a chance encounter of a lifetime and through it found her way across the waters to Eorzea. After arriving she found herself under the employment of the Sharlayan scholar Nolanel Corbeaux, working as both research assistant and hired hand to help defend against threats. Not long after Hazel finds herself under the tutelage of Lia Amelune of Ishgard, retired Dragoon and head of her own noble house. Extremely curious and adventurous by nature, Hazel's love of the unknown is matched only by her competitiveness. Idealistic and prideful, Hazel takes to each new day with excitement and wonder in her eye.

Claire Ashe (Claire Bas Syndris)

Age: 29 as of Dawntrail

Race: Garlean

Height: 6'2"/188cm

Nameday: 17th Sun of the Third Astral Moon (May 17th)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Lesbian

A pureblooded Garlean who spent most of her childhood and teenage years living in Ala Mhigo under Garlean occupation. She grew up befriending many of the Ala Mhigan children there without her parents knowing. After her two closest friends were beaten to death in the streets, Claire revoked her family name and fled the city, no longer disillusioned by the Garlean propaganda she was fed her entire life. She traveled to Ul'dah and came into contact with the Lemures, where she was then trained by Drusilla as a Reaper. With her training and pact with the Voidsent Sidian, Claire aided in the revolution to liberate Ala Mhigo from Garlean control. She now works aboard the merchant ship The Enduring Deeds as a deckhand and the ship's main cook. She wears a bandana at all times to hide her third eye, paranoid over the general consensus most people have of Garleans. She puts up a cold and harsh exterior, which as of this point might not be as much of an act anymore, but underneath is a truly kind soul afraid of being hurt and hurting others just from existing.

Derrinall Evramont

Age: 33 (physically) as of Dawntrail

Race: Duskwight Elezen (also Ashkin/Undead)

Height: 6'7"/201cm

Nameday: 9th Sun of the First Astral Moon (January 9th)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Derrinall Evramont originally lived during the final years of Gelmorra. His family were that of knights, dedicated to serving the people, though unfortunately his life was not lost in service of this oath. Sickness claimed him a few years before the total fall of Gelmorra, his soul adrift yet still holding strong to his memory and sense of self for centuries...that is, until he was brought back to the star for reasons he did not know. When he awoke again he wandered the ruins of the crypt he was buried in, eventually stumbling upon two he would learn to be kindred spirits, in a way. The two strangers helped him to recover even as he kept his personal information close to his chest, eventually pointing him to work and housing in Ishgard. He found work under Lia Amelune, both as house servant and a member of the House's ranks of knights. Derrinall's previous experience as a knight of Gelmorra saw him quickly rise through the ranks to become Captain, a title he holds with pride and only the occasional harassment of the Lady he serves.

E'venna Zekiel

Age: 21 as of Dawntrail

Race: Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te

Height: 5'4"/162cm

Nameday: 3rd Sun of the Sixth Astral Moon (November 3rd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Straight

E'venna Zekiel is the eldest daughter of five children. After her father was tempered by Ifrit and subsequently killed, she took it upon herself to help her mother care for her younger siblings, specifically her triplet younger sisters. It wasn't an easy road to get where she and her family are now, especially in a place such as Ul'dah. E'venna began her "career" in back alley fights, as she had always been scrappy in a brawl. After getting into an impromptu fight outside the Pugilist's Guild she was offered membership, and upon joining took it upon herself to partake in Coliseum matches. The shine of her golden hair is matched only by her bright smile and optimistic personality. Combined with her unorthodox and playful fighting style in matches and soon E'venna had earned her the nickname "The Dancing Coeurl" from dedicated fans of her's. Her tournament winnings are a major boon to the family, with it they are able to put the three youngest through a formal education. Her family members almost all strongly disapprove of E'venna's line of work she can't imagine herself doing anything but. She's found her place, and that's in the ring.

Exploding Goldfish

Age: 36 as of Dawntrail

Race: Hellsguard Roegadyn

Height: 7'2"/218cm

Nameday: 30th Sun of the Third Umbral Moon (June 28th)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: AroAce

Exploding Goldfish, simply known as "Fish" by most everyone, was born to a family of miners in Uldah. Throughout his life he was surrounded by heavy machinery, sparking a lifelong love of machines and inventing. His youth was spent learning everything he could about technology. His studies eventually paid off and he scored the job of his dreams working as part of Garlond Ironworks...for a while. An accident during a project cost Fish partial vision in his left eye and his position in the company. Scarred and humiliated, he drifted for months before finally finding secure work and pay at Wolves' Den Pier. Fish spent his time maintaining the machines used in "Rival Wings" competitions, and when he wasn't working on repairs he was drowning his self-pity in alcohol. It wasn't all for nothing, however. While at Wolves' Den, Fish chanced upon meeting a scrawny Viera living under the pier; Qara Wen. It took some coaxing but eventually Fish was able to befriend him, and over time that friendship evolved into brotherhood. And so when Fish was recruited to join the merchant ship The Enduring Deeds, his one request was that Qara be welcomed aboard as well.

[justalittleraven]

LFRP/FFXIV Friends

Hi! I'm Nihil, or Raven to some, and I'm looking for more people to RP or just chat with about FFXIV ocs, lore, and RP. I have a fair few ocs at this point, and most are listed below. Feel free to message me!

Idun - Budding Blood Mage

Sideblog: @idun-monnawesfv - NonWOL - He/They - Gay - Shipped (It's complicated)

A young Veena only in his 20s, they fled their master after enduring vicious attacks due to not perceiving themself as being male. Since, he has taken up work as a dancer, traveling around Eorzea before meeting a certain unscrupulous doctor in Ishgard. They are affectionately described as a "temperamental little spitfire".

Domitien Ormesang - Cursed Marksman

NonWOL - He/Him - Pan - Heartbroken and Recovering

He was not always a wanderer, in fact he was a weaver of some renown from Gridania before deciding to set out for Ishgard with his companion and lover. They suffered a terrible fate on that journey, however, leading to his lover's soul being consumed by the cursed weapon that he now carries. Now he searches for a way to break the curse and put his lover's soul to rest, by any means necessary.

White Masque - Cursecrafter

NonWOL - Any pronouns - Questioning - Single but Be Prepared

A being so old he has forgotten his birthname, and all that remains of who he was is the mask he takes his name from. His soul carries a stain, one which he routinely excises into cursed items. Feeling no attachment to these, they have been left behind wherever he has traveled, leading to some unfortunate souls stumbling upon one without realizing the price they demand.

Elenwe Celebrindal - Elven Knight

NonWOL - She/Her - Sapphic - Single

Hailing from a line of elves which were blessed long ago by the Pixies, she defends her home from Sin Eaters wherever they appear. She has lost many to the Light, yet she remains as brilliant as a star herself, determined to save any she can from being devoured or transformed. Many who have found themselves alone, without family nor friend after the Flood of Light or attacks by Sin Eaters, have found themselves welcomed by her.

Erravi goe Corvus - Raven Run Astray

NonWOL - He/Him - Gay - Single and Stressed

A former Imperial assassin, titled Censor, Avi was loyal to the empire until he became too much of a threat to leave alive. Every assassin of his order has been executed in secret after a certain number of years in service, and this was his fate too. Though he does not believe in gods, he thought it a miracle when he was taken in by a nobleman who happened upon him on death's door. As fate would have it, the man was a relative of the Lady of Haukke Manor, and Erravi escaped with quite a few new scars after his experience.

Micans Lilius - Naturalborn Lightwarden

WOL - He/Him - Gay - Shipped (Soulmates Beyond Time)

Micans was born in Garlean territory, the youngest of four children. His mother passed away shortly after his birth, something his father blamed him for until his dying day. Before that though, it was 12 years after Micans' birth that his father almost killed him, leaving him with a scar from the gunshot. His siblings bid him to run, and so he did, eventually making his way to Eorzea and starting his journey as the Warrior of Light. At times he believes Hydaelyn made the right choice, as the very Crystal of Light She bestowed upon him was furthering his light poisoning.

[zwierzodudle]

thinking about how lucia was supposed to spy on ishgard only to become aymeric's most loyal knight. we never really hear about any other garlean spies so it's very funny to imagine that she was the last straw and they never bothered sending another one.

anyway here's my candidates for Potential Previous Failed Garlemald Spies In Ishgard:

first one was eaten by a dragon. it's ishgard, it happens

several who joined the ironworks and stayed because the union is better and they do little to no human experimentation

DRK wol killed one while mowing down inquisitors and doesn't even remember it as something particularly important. it's ishgard, it happens

one became a priest as a cover then found halone for real

another got wildly into the local figure skating competition, became their best coach in years and stayed forever

^years later they will get ishgard gold in the Etheirys Olympics because they're still salty about being made to join the garlemald military instead of following their skating dreams

[pangurbanthewhite]

I've been thinking about villains in FFXIV, the ones that have worked for me and the ones that have made me roll my eyes and mute the game so I don't have to hear their voice acting. And I've been thinking about why that difference exists for me.

And it probably doesn't come down to one Key Detail over any other, but if I had to be reductive, I'd say that the villains that I find the most irritating are the ones with pretensions of nobility. Not pretensions of noble ambition, mind you - pretty much all of them have that. But pretensions of noble bearing and attitude.

Examples of villains that I've found just hellishly irritating - Ran'jit, Hermes, Golbez, Gaius and several other Garleans like the guy leading the resistance in the subway who was so irritating to deal with that I put the game down for actual fucking months.

Examples of villains that I am intensely moved by - Emet-Selch, Zenos, Elidibus, Meteion. Even the Knights of the Round or Fandaniel or fucking Lahabrea had a kind of gleeful, careless malice to them that was fun.

I would argue that Emet-Selch doesn't really have any pretensions of nobility in his bearing, or at least not in ways that the game expects you to agree with, at least after it's revealed that he is Emet-Selch. He spends most of Shadowbringers being a strange, inscrutable weirdo right up until the reveal, at which point he's just impotently angry. And yet his rage is ultimately a helpless thing, because even in Shadowbringers, I think the game carries with it a sense that nothing he does will or can ever bring back the world he knew.

Same with Zenos, after Stormblood is over with. He's given up on connecting with or understanding or presenting himself as anything but your Destined Other Half. He dies utterly alone, fundamentally unmourned, having accomplished nothing besides satisfying his own intensely personal desire. And it gutted me.

And Meteion...fuck, Meteion is just an angry, scared, uncomprehending kid from beginning to end.

The fact that they all in some way act strange and unhinged and feral makes the sympathetic parts of them easier to sympathize with, imo. Their characterization might be arrogant but the narrative does not fundamentally vindicate it. They act better than you but I don't think you're ever supposed to believe that they in any way are.

But then you get Quintus van Cinna, who sticks shock collars on a pair of kids and still has the gall to act like you're the bad guy and the game never lets you fucking mouth off to him over it god that questline still makes me angry.

Or you get Golbez who also finally irritated me so much that I put the game down for literal actual months. Yadda yadda, you're gonna save the world, even though it seems like you'd accomplish the same thing by just showing up and politely asking to have your head cut off, pardon me while I make a wanking motion with my hand.

From an in-theory, on-paper perspective, his motives are sympathetic. His story is tragic. His parallels with Zero are powerful! But in execution...idk, man. It's probably just me, but if I'm going to tie this post up in a neat little bow with some writing advice, don't be afraid to make your villains weird little freaks in some way. The more concerned you are with making them seem cool, the less cool an audience will find them.

[pillowfriendly]

hate and future for miss kethry :3

hate: i joke that kethry is a sovereign citizen cause she does NOT care for the concept of laws and hates the people that enforce them. she believes in choosing your own code of behavior and sticking to it, and totally rejects the concept that anyone else (or a governing body) can force theirs upon you. lucky for everyone, the behavior model she believes in for herself is mostly prosocial, if vigilante-esque

this hatred comes from her childhood in the shroud, where the only contact her family (a "poaching" clan) had with gridania was through the serpents coming in to violently dispute the keepers' way of life, on the basis of laws they had no say in from a city-state they weren't welcome in. this gets compounded further in ishgard where she encounters temple knights and all the injustices they visit on the people of the brume. throw in some drk-quest related insanity at the time, aaand oop shes dumping knight bodies off the sides of cliffs in the night

future: the worst future for kethry is the "weapon of light" one. despite her general suspicion of government, she's susceptible to requests for help from basically anyone. so the plea for her to fight on their behalf, that if she does it will save everyone else who would die if she wasn't there, is impossible for her to ignore.

she got closest to this right before shadowbringers, where (in my longer timeline) she was at the frontline against the garleans for months while slowly losing her support network-everyone who kept her from becoming eorzea's best attack dog. cat. whatever. this furthers my agenda of her starting the shb story as unhinged as possible

[nini-dirthara-lothlenanas]

                                                  𝔉𝔬𝔯 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢

Happy Patch 6.3 Day

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day Nine: Lend an Ear

at long last, aymeric hears from the one dear to him. aymeric x female warrior of light, mentions of past aymeric/estinien. set during stormblood. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: teen words: 1617 ao3 link

It is two bells to noon when the linkpearl hums.

At first Aymeric thinks he must be imagining it. The delicate thing has been dormant for weeks, ever since Aureia left on her journey. She was so flushed and bright-eyed when she gifted it to him, pushing it eagerly into his hands on the day she left for Gyr Abania. A token, a private link to keep them connected while she journeyed away from Ishgard.

They have only used it three times. Once when she arrived in Castrum Oriens. A second when she reached Rhalgr’s Reach. And finally, the third not long after the Resistance was raided. She was so silent then, saying little more than a word or two. He prattled on, filling the silence with arbitrary small talk and unimportant politics and Emmanellain’s latest tomfoolery, until she finally blurted it out. She was injured. Badly. And she wished to return to Ishgard.

She was coming home from her foray too soon, bruised and bandaged and broken.

Her injuries healed quickly under the chirurgeons’ care—she had survived much worse, Alphinaud said—but her spirit remained crushed. This was no simple taste of defeat; there was a hollowness inside her that was eating her alive, and gods be damned she could not speak of it. He could not bring himself to ask what happened that horrible, horrible day. He knew the small details, of course—the burning base, the Imperial destruction, the tally of the injured, the tally of the dead.

Zenos yae Galvus stalking the battlefield like a demon summoned from the Void.

Aureia’s silence was uncanny. Unsettling. This was not the first time she had fallen in combat, nor would it be the last. She is no stranger to defeat. And yet the Garlean prince left an undeniable mark on her. Even after her recovery and the plan to travel to Othard was put in place, she felt distanced. Faded. Like an autumn leaf torn from its branch, falling away from the place it called home.

The linkpearl hums again, the delicate white bead pulsing faintly with light.

Aymeric stares at it, certain now that he is not making it up. He wets his lower lip and puts down his pen, stretching out a hand. His fingers hover above the linkpearl’s box, its home since he removed it from his ear. Out of the way, but not forgotten. Housed safely and waiting, ready for when she saw fit to call. There was no expectation for her to call right away. The journey to Othard is long, and the seas are perilous. She has more important things to do than to worry about calling him, just as he does.

His gaze flicks to the chronometer above his mantlepiece. Then back to the linkpearl. The day is still young. A fire crackles in the hearth, staving away the early cold that creeps in through the windows overnight. He returned from morning prayers not that long ago. A pile of paperwork is stacked upon his desk, and this only matters so urgent he must deal with them at home. There will be others waiting in his office at the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly.

That really is a mouthful, you know. Has no one thought of renaming it to something maybe under seven syllables?  

The memory murmurs at the edges of his mind, softened by the haze of reminiscence. They were lying in bed, perhaps. His bed—or was it hers? No. It must have been his. The sun was too bright that morning, flooding through tall windows. She sat up with the sheets pulled around her, her hair a mess, creases in the corners of her eye, all but glowing in that sun.

The linkpearl hums once more.

Aymeric shoves his seat back and rises to his feet, seizing the linkpearl and putting it in his ear.

“Aureia,” he breathes.

Nothing at first. Then—

“Hi.”

Her voice is clearer than expected. He closes his eyes and presses a hand to his chest, as if the pressure can soothe his aching heart. “You called.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

A pause. Faint music echoes from her side, too distant for him to make much sense of. Harmonies played on instruments unfamiliar to his ears. Where is she now? How far has she gone? Has she made it safely? Is she hurt? Halone above, he does not know what he will do if this is how he discovers she has been gravely wounded again— 

“We’re in Hingashi.”

“Hingashi?” His eyes widen. “Then you—”

“Made it, yes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank Halone. Your journey was uneventful, I take it?”

“An incident with pirates.” He can envision the playful smile on her lips from her tone alone. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. I suppose one could say Alisaie taught them a lesson or two. Or four.”

“Would that I could have seen that.”

“Would that you could have come with us.” She pauses, the score of the city shifting behind her. The instruments have faded now, but he can hear the rhythm of a busy street, the cacophony of distant gossip. Is she outside? Sitting by a window? If only his tongue wasn’t so tied, she could paint the picture for him. “I think you would like it here in Kugane. The city is wonderful.”

“Any snow?”

“No.” He’s certain he can hear her grinning. “Tataru took us on a tour of the markets. And the tea houses, Aymeric! The tea here… I can’t describe it. I hate to say it, but it puts your Ishgardian brews to shame.”

“I would very much like to argue that. Ishgardians pride ourselves on our tea, you know.”

“You could, but I don’t think you’ll win.”

“That’s hardly fair. I taught you everything you know.”

“And now I have surpassed you.”

He chuckles, a soft smile spreading from ear to ear. Abandoning his desk, he pads across his office and slows to a halt by the hearth, watching the flames dance. It wasn’t so long ago that she was here, curled up on the couch. Her favourite coat—a red leather duster—is still here, hung over the back. “Then I look forward to this tea sparring match upon your return,” he says, warming his hands above the fire. The chronometer ticks, the second hand moving determinedly forward. “Shall you put it in your calendar or shall I?”

“Mm. I think we can think of better things to do than to spar over tea.” Her voice drops to a murmur, low and husky, thick with suggestion. It’s surprisingly forward of her, considering their lack of contact over the past weeks. Or is that another thing he is imagining? “Did you know they have public baths here? Hot springs. Perhaps there are more similarities between Ishgard and Hingashi than we thought. Just like the mountains. They’re beautiful here, Aymeric. I don’t know if I there will be a chance to visit before we move on, but I can see them from my window before the sun sets too far.”

His throat constricts, his breath shallow. “Is the sun setting now?” he asks, leaning a shoulder against the hearth.

“Yes. It’s just gone below the horizon.”

“And it is morning here.”

A pause. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I can call again later. If you’re busy—”

“No, no. Please.” He exhales a long breath and rests his forearm along the mantlepiece, his fingers tapping the wood near the chronometer. “It’s good to hear your voice. More than I can say.”

Another pause. “I’m attuned to the aetheryte here now, you know. I could slip away. Come see you in person.” Though there is hopefulness in her voice, it isn’t as much a question as it is a daydream. One where the weight of nations doesn’t weigh on their shoulders. One where their names and faces are unknown. One where he isn’t the Lord Commander and she isn’t the Warrior of Light.

“It would attract too much attention to receive a visitor all the way from Kugane,” he says softly. “I cannot guarantee there wouldn’t be talk, and any talk can find its way back to the Empire. Best stay discreet.”

“I know, I… I miss you. I wish I could see you.”

“But I can hear you. That is more than enough.”

She falls silent. A distant rush of wind—a breeze blowing by her window, perhaps?—and he can hear the faint trail of music once again. “I should let you go,” she murmurs. “Let you get back to work. And I should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Aureia—”

“Yes?”

He flips the chronometer around, pushing it face-down into the mantlepiece. “Stay with me a while?”

She doesn’t answer. In the uncertain space between breaths, he wonders if he is about to find the answer to the question that has haunted him for weeks. How did a Garlean prince—however ferocious—shake her so badly that their relationship feels uneasy? Have they reached that impossible place he fears the most? The immutable point where they begin to break apart, slowly but surely moving away from one another. It has happened before. He was young and foolish when he let Estinien into his heart. Has he learned anything since? Or is she destined to meet a similar end?

There is something about these warriors his heart chooses—bound to wander like distant stars, while he is ever bound to Ishgard.

Aureia’s voice resounds in his ear, warm and firm and with such tenderness he is reminded why exactly he loves her. “I would like that.”

[thevikingwoman]

FFXIVWrite 2024 - Prompt 9

Emmanellain has some doubts about his capabilities. As usual I have lots of opinions about how his family treats him

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 613

Meryta Khatin (wol) & Emmanellain de Fortemps | HW patches Rating: Gen. friendship, support, expectations, past Meryta/Emmanellain

Lend an Ear

Meryta is surprised when it’s Emmanellain who greets her at Camp Dragonhead. Though he’d done his best to prove himself in combat, it’s not his strong suit. Trying to live up to Haurchefant – that’s a fool’s errand. All said and done, she’s happy to see him. Aymeric concludes his business, and they have to be on their way, but she lingers. 

“Emmanellain – how are you? Truly?” she asks, once everyone save Honoroit has left.  

“Meryta, pretty girl. I could use an ear, my friend.” 

“I can stay and listen, Emmanellain.”  

They’ve worked out whatever awkwardness they felt around each other after she ended their fling, and their friendship has been a steady growth since. She still feels her cheeks heat with pretty girl, but it is surely better than old girl.  

“Honoroit, fetch the mulled wine after all. It’s blasted cold here.” 

He runs dutifully runs off. She’s glad he’s here, though she wonders of the burdens on his shoulders. Then again, kids are more capable than anyone thinks, as long as you let them.  

She seats herself in front of the fire with Emmanellain, and tries not to think of the last time she was here. She waits. Emmanellain starts talking soon enough.  

“Do you really think the Garleans will come here?” 

That was not what she expected. She shrugs.  

“I think once we march on them elsewhere, they will probably worry about that first.” 

“Yes. Of course. Surely.”  

Honoroit comes back, and pours mulled wine for them both. It’s hot, and she warms her fingers, and blows on it. Emmanellain takes a big gulp, and for a moment she wonders if steam will come out of his long ears.  

“Thank you Honoroit. Pray leave us alone.” 

“Of course, my Lord.” 

Honoroit runs off, leaving the mulled wine. Meryta takes a small sip.  

“It’s not that I’m worried you know. Well, mayhap a little.” Emmanellain pours himself another cup. “I’m determined to do my best to lead everyone, but you see, Meryta, I’m not – him.” 

“You’re not, Emmanellain. And you shouldn’t be asked to be.” 

“Surely. I – do you think…” he pauses, frowning. “I have really endeavored to train and – but I’m afraid I’ll muck it all up.” 

She reaches for him. It truly isn’t fair, making Emmanellain in charge here. The soldiers – like everyone – loved Haurchefant, and he is missed. Even was Emmanellain even the most skilled of knights, he’d still be unfavorable compared. She wishes Edmont would have asked him to do anything else. Given how well he’s taken care of Honoroit, she wonders if he would be better suited as a teacher. He shouldn’t have to be a warrior just because that is what his father wants – but that’s not a useful thing to say.  

“I’m sure you will do fine, Emmanellain. No, I mean it. You have both been practicing your fighting but what’s more, running a garrison is also about the people here. Having the right people do the right thing. Figuring out what everyone needs.”   

“I guess – I guess I can do that.” 

Emmanellain looks at the drink in his hand. Meryta pats his knee again.  

“You’ll do well enough.” 

“I’ll do my best. I would like him to be proud of me.” 

He doesn’t specify if it’s Haurchefant or Edmont, or even Atoriel. It doesn’t matter.  

“I know you will, Emmanellain. Truly.” 

“I’m glad hearing that, pretty girl.” He smiles at her and puts his mug down, bouncing back in his usual fashion. “Yes, of course I will. I will be the best – ah, mayhap the second best – commander this garrison has ever had. Now, off with you to Gridania. I will manage matters here.” 

[sparrowsong-7]

Character Dump Time!

Figured I'd keep and up to date primer on all my OCs, since some of their details have changed.

(Updated as of 7/15/2024)

Ayami Ami (formerly Ayami Tsukimori)

Age: 22 (post EW)

Pronouns: She/Her

Jobs: Black Mage, Red Mage, Summoner

Born as an Au Ra to the Tsukimori Family, Ayami had a rather rough childhood, something that reached a head when she ran away from her home at the tender age of 15. Her lonesome journey took her to Ul'Dah, where she'd live on the streets until calamity struck. As voidsent poured into the city under Dalamud's shadow, Ayami felt a fire burn within her, a fire that would vaporize the demons barreling down on a young Lalafellin woman. The Thaumaturges Guild immediately took notice, taking the young child in to hone her skills before she hurt someone... more than likely herself.

Throughout her journey, Ayami has gone from a meek, unassuming adventure to a veritable force of nature. She would also transform from an awkward Au Ra to a confident Lalafell thanks to a rather potent Fantasia. Rather than seeking fame and fortune, Ayami instead used her new form to fake her death, leading the world to believe that Ayami Tsukimori perished during the Final Days.

Now going by the (temporary) name Ayami Ami, she wanders where her heart may take her, taking in the sights and knowledge that she stumbles across.

Memello Mello

Age: 25 (post EW)

Pronouns: She/Her

Jobs: Machinist, Gunbreaker, Dark Knight

A Sharlayan runaway, Memello (often simply Mel) grew up as a magitek prodigy in a family that had no care for the machines. In a fit of desperation, frustration, and fear Mel stole as many supplies and gadgets as she could from a gleaner store house and caught the quickest boat to Eorzea, hoping to start a new life using her skills. While Mel had nothing to her name her prowess made waves that would soon reach the ears of one Cid Garland, who would quickly offer the young women a job at the Garland Ironworks.

This good fortune would not last, however, as Calamity loomed overhead. Cid would go missing, leaving his employees aimless, and as Dalamud fell Ul'Dah would come under siege by voidsent, hellsbent on devouring anyone in their path... Mel included. Only through the kindness of a powerful Mage did Mel survive, a fact that made Mel feel weak. Thus did she set out on her path to get stronger, braver... thus did she set out to become a Warrior of Light.

Unfortunately, after Zenos took her leg and her confidence in their climactic battle at the edge of existence, Mel was left unable to continue her adventuring. Lost in depression and wondering if she'll ever get back out into the world, Mel receives a mysterious missive from Tural...

Crescent Sparrowsong

Age: 31 (?)

Pronouns: They/them

Jobs: Reaper

There's not much know about Crescent's upbringing, and there's even less that they're willing to divulge. First coming the the public conscious prior to the fall of Dalamud, Crescent would make their name adventuring and helping those in need, soon earning the moniker Warrior of Light alongside several others. But when the lesser moon cracked open, and Master Louisoix's spell was cast, memories of the Calamity would fade, just as the light faded from Crescents eye.

The individual who would be know as Crescent died that day, their body left on the fields of Carteneau. Their story would have ended there had their body not been deemed acceptable for experimentation by a shadowy sect of Garlean researchers. Time would pass, and Crescent would eventually awaken in the snows of Coerthas, with nothing but fragmented memories and a crisis of identity to show, wondering about the truth of their existence.

That truth, however, would prove to be challenging to swallow. In the years since their awakening, Crescent sorted through their memories, filtering out those that once belonged to the former Warrior of Light, and found they had nothing of their own. But at night, in the still silence, they found themself dreaming of a place just on the edge of their mind, of a castle sitting proud against a golden sky and later an umbral hell, of a place they once called home...

They found themself dreaming of a place named Troia...

L'vinia Fay

Age: 1500+

Pronouns: It/Its

Jobs: Machinist*

*L'vinia doesn't fall under the standard job umbrella, drifting closer to being a gunslinger than a machinist.

Dormant for over 1500 years, L'vinia was discovered by an expedition team in the ruins of a Mhachi fringe town just southwest of Coerthas. Its dormant body transferred hands countless time as a curiosity before winding up in the hands of the Seedseers of Gridania. There it would remain until its body came into direct contact with Ayami, stirring L'vinia to life once more.

Once obedient to a fault, L'vinia was freed from the enchantment placed upon it by its former master with the help of Ayami and Cait Sith. Now truly free for the first time in its life, L'vinia chose to steal a Manacutter and fly off to parts unknown, leaving only a note begging its former friends not to follow. Where it's been all this time is a mystery to everyone, though talk has been spreading in Shaaloani of an unkillable gunman who bears a striking resemblance to the wayward Doll...