#devout Christian characters.
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apotelesmaa · 1 year ago
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I wish I could get a degree in lit/ethics but that would possibly be the only thing more useless than a viscom degree but goddamn do I love literary (or any media) analysis truly nothing is more fun than picking apart a story to find your own interpretation of the authors intentions and defending it. Lovveee to make a philosophical argument based on the actions of characters.
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yael-art-den · 2 months ago
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For my next character I'm giving this dog catholic guilt
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journey-to-the-attic · 2 years ago
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au where this was how ik and diavolo met for the first time when she was like seven
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raayllum · 1 year ago
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one thing i think about the ghosting (that i allude to sometimes in my fic and given garlaath's existence as a concept) is not only the cultural trauma that rayla carries, but also the possible religious trauma. if you're ghosted, it would stand to follow that moonshadow elves don't believe you get to reunite with your village / loved ones in an afterlife. it's a complete shunning where they metaphorically (and somewhat literally) kill you if you refuse to die of your own accord in the line of duty. if you're ghosted, do you go to hell? does rayla already think she's damned on that level, and adds another level to thinking she'll never see runaan and ethari again? just something to think about
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itmeblog · 22 days ago
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Every time a book markets itself as clean (not like a reviewer remarking anything but when the book is in its own marketing campaign saying that it is clean) I check and every time it's either Evangelical or Mormon.
Counter: 4
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beetlejuse · 1 month ago
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watching an 11 hour video essay about glee and it’s frankly kind of bad and i dislike it but i keep watching it because it’s like microdosing glee. and i, unfortunately, love glee
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shoechoe · 2 years ago
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It's interesting to wonder what Diavolo's relationship with religion is since he was raised by a priest and with his name and all. (Personally I like to think he became an edgy atheist because that's the funniest thing to think about)
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thecooleraveragejamm · 10 months ago
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why is a jayfeather a devout starclanner now
what did they do to my boy
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sacrificialroses · 2 years ago
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I love appropriating christianity/catholicism as a fun aesthetic it’s so messed up but that gothic like gold and crosses and angels aesthetic SLAAAAPSSSS 😂 but fuck everything else about it lol
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breitzbachbea · 2 years ago
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Rotating JJerusalem AU Francetto at the highest speed in my head, because Francesco values Dolcetto for seeing through all the class and order bullshit and values him as someone who is intellectually of his rank and who he will defend and behind closed doors treat as an equal, but it IS still medieval times and Francesco values his head upon his shoulders, so he also never openly challenges the social order nor would Dolcetto ever dream to suggest something like that. And Francesco expresses his affection also partly by reassuring Dolcetto of his high and deserved status.
Like, people outside the dominant social system have always existed and putting them back into the world via historical fiction, acknowledging that we haven't heard of them because they survived by being lowkey, is fun! It is not necessarily an ahistorical modern point of view if done right. But I just think that also trying to incorporate a worldview that is as similiar to ours as it is different can be a lot of fun in fiction.
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prokopetz · 11 months ago
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It's that time of year when Tumblr celebrates Easter by posting pictures of crucified anime characters, and inevitably somebody in the notes will pop up to helpfully explain that crucifixion imagery has no cultural significance in Japanese media because Japan is only about 1% Christian, which bugs me because it's completely wrong.
It's true that in the majority of cases, crucifixion in Japanese cartoons isn't meant to be conveying any specific theological message, but something Western audiences are likely to miss is that a large portion of those random crucifixion scenes are referencing Ultraman.
Ultraman's creator was a devout Roman Catholic who explicitly intended the titular hero to read as a Christ figure, and consequently, various Ultramen have been crucified on multiple unconnected occasions throughout the franchise's history. Crucifixion scenes in Japanese cartoons are often directly name-checking particular crucifixion incidents from Ultraman, right down to emulating the compositions and camera angles of specific shots. It's like an especially morbid version of the Akira slide.
The upshot is that, while it's true that the inclusion of gratuitous crucifixion scenes in Japanese cartoons typically has no (intentional) theological message, stating that they have no cultural significance is incorrect. A large chunk of the Japanese viewing audience are going to see them and immediately go "hey, that's an Ultraman reference".
Anyway, as an image tax, have a shot of four crucified Ultramen miraculously resurrecting a fifth Ultraman by shooting laser beams out of their hearts:
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tevinter · 2 months ago
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Veilguard fails to realise that for those who believe, faith is stronger than anything, even facts.
Right in the beginning of Veilguard all the Dalish/veil jumpers are so nonchalant and against their gods returning, as if they were convinced offscreen that their whole faith was based on a lie (even though they all still wear vallaslin) and their gods were Evil™. This, again, fails to consider that the vast majority of the Dalish would either not believe or not care because it's their religion, their faith.
Morally ambiguous gods exist in real life religions too and it didn't stop people from believing in them. Divine morality transcends mortal understanding, so their actions are always rightful. This also leads to the concept of a 'god-fearing' person - even the term used (θεοσεβής) can mean both respect and fear. Mortals are humbled by the gods' power and greatness, and willfully submit to their divine authority.
You needn't go further than the goddamn Bible itself to see countless examples of unethical things that God did/supported including legitimization of slavery and punishment (Exodus 21:20-21 “Anyone who beats their male or female slave with a rod must be punished if the slave dies as a direct result, but they are not to be punished if the slave recovers after a day or two, since the slave is their property." is one unhinged example), cannibalism, many kinds of violence, war, and of course, genocide, one of which was literally the deliberate destruction of nearly all humanity and living creatures on earth. The god of the most widely practiced religion in the world for millenia. Ask a devout Christian if they would stop believing in God just because 'um actually he is bad'.
Mystery is also a great aspect of religion, which also makes it an excellent worldbuilding element for writers. Mystery adds to the immersion because just like the characters, we don’t know everything except the beliefs and unanswered questions. And we're not supposed to, because this is how religion works in real life, where faith is about belief rather than what’s fully understood. It makes the story feel more real and engaging. Professional writers - of a AAA title no less - should know this.
Religion was one of the greatest themes in all previous games, especially Andrastianism and the Elven pantheon. Reducing it all to 'the Evanuris did it' is disappointing to say the least, and even if it was the truth that only the writers knew, they should have kept it that way, or at least some of the mystery. It adds immersion, drama, nuance, it encourages thought and discussion. For all Veilguard failed in the 'show, don't tell' rule, in this case this is too much exposure, and not even done in a good way. ''Religion is fake, so now everyone's atheist or unfazed. Oh, except for one (1) person who is mildly upset'' is not how faith works, especially in a setting so religious as Thedas.
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NPMD has the main cast of all time.
Peter “Has been waiting five fucking years for his hot chocolate” Spankoffski.
Stephanie “Puts her hand directly underneath a hammer to protect her phone” Lauter.
Richie “Accidentally filmed incriminating evidence that suggests he and his friends brutally murdered a guy” Lipschitz.
Ruth “Pours her entire heart and soul into a musical number that reflects the motivations and struggles of both herself and the character she’s pretending to be, and literally no one sees it except for the guy who kills her two minutes later” Fleming.
Grace “Has an extremely dirty sexual fantasy despite being the world’s most devout and chaste Christian, Stages an elaborate prank in the old base of a cult, dismembers a body and covers it up without remorse, holds a cop and detective at gunpoint, summons dark gods, fucks a ghost to save the world and then ends said world herself” Chastity.
And finally, Max “Considers a prank made to utterly ruin his life and social reputation the nicest thing ever done for him, but then proceeds to murder the people who pranked him because they made him piss his pants” Jagerman.
Incredible.
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luckthebard · 5 months ago
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I think a huge problem I’m seeing in some attempts at meta with C3 is that there is a subset of viewers who do not understand the place, value, and meaning of real world religion. It breeds takes like “well throw the gods out! Who needs them! They caused characters and the world pain! Free Vax from the Raven Queen!”
I throw that last one in there because it is the most ridiculous yet frequent and is really the crux of the issue. Vax’s story is very much about faith and the importance of faith and devotion. If you place no value on that you’ll end up grossly misunderstanding the character and the nature of his tragedy.
I’m going to out myself as an atheist, but I think the issue with a lot of these takes are that they come from internet atheists who are either resentful of and hostile toward religion because of personal experiences or do not know any devout people in their lives who they respect and can empathize with. And while I am not trying to downplay the very real phenomenon of religious trauma, when healing from it it is crucial to realize that all spiritual traditions are not synonymous with the one that harmed you. I would really implore more people to explore why many good people find spiritual traditions and religion to be a source of solace, community, and meaning before writing off the idea wholesale as something only functioning as a means of power and control that people can be educated out of believing. I encourage you to branch out and here are some examples of things I’ve done to challenge my own judgement over the last ten years: read the writings of gay Catholics exploring the queerness of Jesus. Read some beautiful poetry written by a trans man who specializes in Anglican theology. Explore religious observances different from the ones you experienced and attend a Seder. Go if a coworker invites you to a celebration of Ganesh. Learn the significance of solstice celebrations because your coworker is officiating one for a Wiccan event. Break fast at sundown during Ramadan with in solidarity with your roommate.
Deciding that all fictional religion must be an allegory for a specific kind of toxic nationalistic prosperity gospel Christian cult found in America will only limit how you engage with both fiction and the real world. It took me a long time to get to this place about it and I hope I’ve put the spark of curiosity and not judgment into at least one person reading this.
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anneapocalypse · 5 days ago
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Urianger’s Faith
I think Urianger’s faith is a core part of his character. In fact, I think that most other things about him—his history of secrecy and deception, his lifelong fascination with prophecy, and his growth over a multi-expansion character arc—are better understood in the context of it. So that’s what I want to talk about today!
This essay contains major plot spoilers through Endwalker. It's also really long.
Urianger’s Religion
We should probably talk about what, exactly, Urianger's faith is—or, to start, what his religion is. Like the majority of Eorzeans, and so far as we know, all of the core Scions, Urianger is a Twelve-worshipper. Rites and customs vary widely between the different regions of Eorzea depending upon their patron deity and the local culture, but while the worship of Rhalgr may look very different from the worship of Halone, they all fall under the same pantheon, and their devotees ascribe to a shared mythos regarding these gods and their relations with one another. In brief, there are believed to be Twelve deities, with various familial relationships to one another, who rule over and guide various aspects of the world and life within it. There exist seven hells and seven heavens, created and presided over by the gods, to which mortals will be sent in death according to their deeds in life.
Born in the Sharlayan colony (according to anecdotes about Urianger and Moenbryda in Encyclopedia Eorzea), and presumably raised there until the exodus when he would have returned to the motherland, Urianger’s patron deity is Thaliak, and accordingly when he invokes a singular deity it tends to be the Scholar, as in this rather sarcastic-sounding greeting to Alphinaud in the Heavensward patches:
Why, Master Alphinaud. Would that the Scholar had seen fit to grant me knowledge of thy coming. What bringeth thee and thine here this day?
As in the real world, it’s not uncommon for characters to invoke the names of their gods in casual, humorous, and downright irreverent ways, such as the well-known exclamation of “Thal’s balls!” among Ul’dahns. Similarly, just as an utterance of “Jesus Christ!” does not necessary indicate a profound Christian faith in the real world, characters exclaiming “By the Twelve!” or “Gods be good!” does not alone indicate that they are especially devout.
I think it’s probably safe to say that the followers of Louisoix who comprised the Circle of Knowing are, at the very least, more than nominal adherents of Twelve-worship. As seen in the “End of an Era” video, it is their prayers that summoned primal versions of the Twelve in an attempt to contain Bahamut; they could not have done so were they not possessed of genuine faith.
I think it is possible, however, to single out Urianger as especially religious even relative to his comrades. There are numerous instances in his dialogue that I think demonstrate a singular faith. He regularly interprets good fortune in terms of the favor of the gods to a greater extent that his colleagues. As late as Shadowbringers, for example, when Y’shtola is rescued from the aetherial sea for the second time, he says:
In all of history, there are but few who have returned from a misadventure in the aetherial sea possessed of mind and body both. To have done so twice beggereth belief. 'Tis plain Y'shtola wanteth not for favor among the Twelve.
However, I think it would also be inaccurate and incomplete to say that Urianger’s faith is wholly centered around the Twelve.
Hydaelyn as Mother-Goddess
If you’re going purely by 2.0 onward, I think it’s easy to miss that a broad awareness of Hydaelyn as a personage (as opposed to simply the name of the star) is a fairly new development in Eorzea. Sharlayan, at the forefront of aetherological studies, has been well ahead of the curve on this, with scholars theorizing not only a concentration of aether at the core of the star which they have termed "the Mothercrystal," but possibly even a consciousness, a "will of the star," sometimes also called "the will of Light." This theory was confirmed when the scholars of Sharlayan succeeded in contacting Hydaelyn through the Antitower in the Dravanian colony, granting them knowledge of the Final Days, and directly leading to the exodus from the colony and subsequent preparations for a potential exodus from the star itself. This knowledge was intentionally kept extremely secret, however, even from most Sharlayan citizens, nevermind the rest of Eorzea.
Any conception of Hydaelyn as a deity is a novel concept, and not a part of traditional Twelve worship. We don't generally hear common people invoke Hydaelyn as they would a deity; it's usually one or all of the Twelve. As recently as five years ago, in 1.0, the true nature of the Echo was still widely unknown; Minfilia’s Echo support group was called The Path of the Twelve because the phenomenon was, understandably, believed to be a gift from the gods. The various powers granted by the Echo had been previously documented, but it is only in recent years that they have been hypothesized (Encyclopedia Eorzea specifically uses the word "hypothesized" rather than "believed") to be a gift from Hydaelyn. "Blessing of Light," likewise, is a broad term referring to a variety of phenomena in which Hydaelyn seems to directly communicate with Echo bearers or intervene on their behalf. EE1 tells us that "despite their frequency, little is known about them. However, it is assumed that many of the 'miracles' which appear in myth and legend are actually instances of Hydaelyn bestowing Her blessing upon an individual." Again, this appears to be a recent theory recontextualizing a set of long-documented but poorly-understood phenomena. Any understanding of the struggle between Hydaelyn and Zodiark is also noted here as a recent discovery by the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.
(As a sidenote, I don't think it's necessary for our purposes here to get too hung up on where the Echo ends and the blessing of Light begins, as at the end of the day both are umbrella terms for a broad set of distinct but overlapping phenomena that come from Hydaelyn.)
It's probably also important to note that this evolving understanding of Hydaelyn is one both spiritual and scientific. By the time we meet them in ARR, it does seem clear that the Scions have already developed a view of Hydaelyn as a mother-goddess figure, but they're also devoted to deepening their understanding of the world through observation and study. They're working closely with the Students of Baldesion from the beginning of ARR (and a couple of Students can be found hanging out in the Waking Sands in the early game). They are willing to modify their beliefs based on new evidence, and indeed, over the course of the next few expansions, a whole lot of new evidence is going to surface. The political leaders who stood with Louisoix at Carteneau—Admiral Merlwyb, General Raubahn, Elder Seedseer Kan-E-Senna—are also familiar with these novel theories. When the Warrior of Light has their first direct contact with Hydaelyn in the introduction to ARR, thereby receiving a Blessing of Light, it is both their Scion representative and the leader of their starting city who explain to them the meaning of their vision and the crystal of Light they now bear.
And novel though it may be, it is clear that the arrival of the Warrior of Light only strengthens the Scions' belief in Hydaelyn. I think this adds important context to the Scions' reception of the player character and the way they look upon that character as such a beacon of hope. It's not just that the WoL is possessed of great strength and skill, or even that they have the Echo; it's that their experiences are actively confirming the Scions' developing theories about Hydaelyn.
Yet for all their approach to understanding Hydaelyn is of a scientific bent, their relationship to Hydaelyn on a personal level still has a distinctly religious flavor—particularly for Minfilia and Urianger. I'll be bringing up Minfilia a few times here, both because her story is deeply intertwined with Urianger's and because I think in some ways they have a lot in common.
Minfilia herself is an Echo-bearer, though it seems like prior to the end of the ARR patches, she has not experienced the blessing of Light in the way the Warrior of Light has. Nonetheless, as she escapes with the Warrior of Light through the watercourse, it is to her that Hydaelyn speaks—and Minfilia heeds Her call, urging the Warrior of Light onward without her, while she runs back to be caught up in Y'shtola's Flow spell and carried into the aetherial sea.
This much, it seems, was Hydaelyn's doing. But something that I think is often missed about Minfilia is that she does not become the Word of the Mother against her will. Hydaelyn does not pull her into the aetherial sea and simply consume her; with Her power so diminished, she probably couldn’t have done that even had she wanted to. Hydaelyn merely guides Minfilia back toward Y'shtola to be caught in the Flow spell. Whatever Hydaelyn’s intentions (which we can’t know for certain), it’s entirely possible that had Minfilia not made a choice, the Seedseers might have pulled her from the aetherial sea alongside Y'shtola, or she might have eventually materialized malms away in the wilderness like Thancred.
In Minfilia's own words:
There, adrift and alone, Her voice silent once more, I prayed... For those we have lost. For those we can yet save. To Her I would make an offering...
Minfilia gives herself to Hydaelyn. She understands—all the Scions understand—that Hydaelyn is profoundly weakened after protecting the Warrior of Light against the Ultima Weapon. She understands that the only way Hydaelyn might intervene in the present crisis is if She can regain some of her strength, and for that, She would need an offering of aether… and Minfilia, having faith that Hydaelyn will intervene, offers herself.
Though it comes at great cost to her and to the people who love her, Minfilia's faith is rewarded. The Warrior of Light survives. Little by little, Hydaelyn does regain strength, and is finally able to speak to the Warrior of Light again and begin to restore what Midgardsormr stripped from them. The Scions rebuild themselves and continue their work. Through Minfilia, Hydaelyn is able to communicate truths lost to time, to help the Scions better understand the struggles they face. And ultimately, Minfilia goes on to save another reflection and its people from total destruction.
What Minfilia understands, Urianger also understands.
The first time Urianger really caught my attention was in the Warriors of Darkness storyline in the Heavensward patches. I love that whole storyline and what it established about his character, and I love how much it set up threads that will be further explored and paid off later. Shadowbringers was a true delight for me, not just because Urianger is so central to it, or because I love the story in its own right (though those are both true things) but also because it is the resolution of this storyline.
The way Urianger calls upon Hydaelyn after the invocation of the crystals has always stuck in mind:
Mother Hydaelyn, hearken unto Your children's plea! From two worlds do we gather, and from two worlds do we offer a bounty of Light. In this desperate hour, we do beseech Your intercession! We beg an audience with the Word of the Mother─with Your chosen, Minfilia!
Urianger possesses a flair for the dramatic generally, of course. And at the same time, this has always struck me as such an earnest prayer. Even in Her weakened state, he has faith that if they can only invoke the combined power of the crystals of Light—an offering of aether!—She will be both willing and able to work with them to save another shard, which is Her aim as well.
And he’s right. Though it comes at great cost, Urianger’s faith in Hydaelyn is rewarded here.
The Invocation of Saints
While Thaliak may be Urianger's patron deity in the strictest sense, I think his faith rests much more strongly in a figure closer to home: his late master, Louisoix Leveilleur.
All of the core Scions have great respect for Louisoix, even what might be called reverence. I don't think it's a reach to say that the Archons of his Circle of Knowing view him, not only as an expert in prophecy, but as a kind of prophet himself. In an Echo flashback to a time before the Calamity in the introductory questline, you might see Y'shtola saying, "It is as Louisoix foretold…" or Papalymo saying, "…just as Louisoix forewarned," depending on your starting city. Thancred, notably, seems to take a more practical view, saying, "Louisoix will know what to do. We need only trust in his judgment," focusing more on his master's wisdom in the present than foreknowledge of the future. Nevertheless, it is clear that all of them put a profound faith in their mentor. Later in ARR, we see Thancred berate himself for arriving too late to prevent Ifrit from tempering nearby soldiers, saying, "Lousioix would never have allowed this to happen."
For Urianger and Minfilia, this reverence takes on a particular flavor.
Urianger's very first words to the Warrior of Light in 2.0 are: "Dawn may banish even the darkest night…" This is the beginning of a well-known writing of Louisoix, which we later hear in full from the Wandering Minstrel, who has arranged them into verse (though he notes that they were not originally written as poetry):
Dawn may banish even the darkest night, Yet ever shall primal desires burn. Two swords shall vie to lay them low─ A blade born of light and a blade forged of might. Alas, man may entrust his fate unto but one.
I think it's very likely Urianger meant to recite the whole thing, finding it a prescient introduction both to the Scions’ work and what role the Warrior of Light might play in it. However, Minfilia gives him a Look which I think suggests he is losing his audience, and Urianger seemingly course-corrects, saying, "The words of a dear friend. I am glad of our meeting." Nonetheless, it seems clear to me that he holds the words of Louisoix in the same regard he would any canonical prophet, and looks to them for guidance in the man's absence.
In the middle of A Realm Reborn, while the Waking Sands are still bustling with Scions going about their work and new recruits waiting for their first mission, Urianger may be found conversing in a very animated (if perhaps one-sided) fashion with a group of adventurers. If spoken to, he has the following to say:
Knowest thou the import of the broken staff within the solar? It fell from the grasp of Archon Louisoix, the man who, in his abiding love for all Eorzeans, shielded us against the storm of the Calamity.
The way he describes his late master feels almost like a christ figure. Have you heard about our lord and savior Louisoix, who so loved the world that he died to save us?
Both Minfilia and Urianger pray directly to Louisoix at certain points in the story. Furthermore, they both make reference to Louisoix watching over them and even guiding their path forward. Y'shtola, too, seems to hold this view. After the attack on the Waking Sands, she says, "It is as if the benevolent hand of Master Louisoix guides us still. He would not see us undone so easily. Not now, when the need is so great." In an Echo flashback, just before the attack on the Wakings Sands, we see Minfilia look up to the fragments of Tupsimati upon the wall of the Solar and say, "Louisoix, do you see? Your light shines brightly in this one. And in time, it will illuminate the realm once more." In the patches, as the Scions prepare to depart for Mor Dhona, she asks, "Tell me, Louisoix... Would you have done the same?" And in learning that Hydaelyn has been silent to both herself and the Warrior of Light, she says, "Then She speaks to neither one of us. Hydaelyn's silence portends naught but ill, I fear. Louisoix… I pray you yet watch over us…"
And as Urianger brings his plan with the Warriors of Darkness to fruition, just before calling upon the Warrior of Light to invoke the power of their crystals, he utters, "Master Louisoix, guide my hand, I pray you, as fate's thread spinneth upon this most capricious spindle." (Note that as with Hydaelyn, and with Louisoix’s grandchildren, Urianger uses the formal you rather than the informal thou.)
While for other Scions, these invocations largely fall away after ARR, for Urianger they do not. As late as Endwalker, he still prays to his late master and invokes his protection:
'Tis no meager delight to watch Alisaie and Alphinaud grow more resolute in mind and heart. And remarkable though their accomplishments may be, I doubt not that they are destined for still greater things. Grant them thy protection, Master Louisoix. I implore thee…
As the Scions call upon their various allies and prepare to use salvaged Allagan technology to craft a vessel to ferry people to the moon, Urianger has this idle remark:
What serendipitous irony that the remnants of the Seventh Umbral Calamity would become the keys to mankind's salvation. Never more certain have I been that Master Louisoix watcheth over us from the aetherial sea...
In this, it is plain that Urianger's faith is deeply tied not merely to distant gods, but to one particularly trusted mortal leader.
Faith, Science, and Flexibility of Mind
Above, I discussed how the Scions’ understanding of Hydaelyn is both scientific and spiritual. It is also worth noting that this idea of the dead watching over them from the aetherial sea seems somewhat divergent from the standard beliefs of Twelve-worship, the seven heavens and hells to which mortals ascend or descend upon death depending on their deeds. Devout as they may be, the Scions’ beliefs about the afterlife are more aligned with the scientific findings of Sharlayan’s aetherologists. This is evident in 2.3, when Urianger and Minfilia review the principles of aetheric dissipation:
Minfilia: Before discussing our new discoveries, it may benefit us all to recall what we know of aetheric behavior. Minfilia: Let us begin at what some might call the end. When we who dwell in the material realm die, our spirits dissolve into the flow of aether, and are returned to the aetherial realm. Minfilia: In turn, the restless energy which suffuses that plane streams back into our world, giving rise to new life. Urianger: 'Tis as the heavens did decree─the way of all mortal souls. Urianger: 'Twixt this world and the next do the aetherial currents swirl, bearing the very essence of life. Thus doth the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth continue unabated.
I find this exchange particularly interesting, because it does not seem to me that the Scions see any conflict between their faith in the Twelve and their understanding of aetherological phenomena. In fact, Urianger explicitly frames the latter in spiritual terms: “’Tis as the heavens did decree.” Integrating a scientific understanding into his nonetheless devout worldview does not seem to be an issue for him, or for the Scions generally. This seems perfectly in keeping with the Sharlayan ethos to me, but it also seems pretty consistent with who Urianger is as a person, with his love of esoteric texts packed with metaphor and poetic imagination. Even were the tenets of Twelve-worship strictly codified across Eorzea, which I suspect they are not on the whole (Ishgard's strict textual orthodoxy seems to be the exception and not the rule), Urianger is not a literalist. It’s probably not a reach for him to interpret "hells and heavens" as poetic interpretations of observable reality.
Urianger will later say that his studies in prophecies have granted him a “flexibility of mind,” and I think that’s an accurate descriptor.
The Art of Foreknowledge
At the heart of Urianger's faith is his belief in foreknowledge and fate.
We are told that prophetic works have fascinated Urianger from a young age—and at this point, I think we need to take a step back and talk about what, exactly, prophecy is in this world. So far as I know, Final Fantasy XIV doesn’t ever really give us a clear definition, but we can deduce some things from context.
Divination takes a variety of forms in this universe, from the astrology we see in Sharlayan and Ishgardian practice, to tomes of poetic verse which are accepted as having some true bearing on the future or the nature of the world or both. It is the latter which is Urianger’s primary field of expertise, though he does seem to have some background in the theory of astrology, and takes it up in practice later on.
That part about certain texts being widely accepted as prophetic is pretty important. We can guess that among scholars of prophecy there is an accepted canon of sorts—works which are acknowledged by scholarly consensus as bearing prophetic relevance. In the cutscene with Elidibus in the Great Gubal Library, Urianger initially scoffs at the Gerun Oracles as “apocrypha”: non-canon, not accepted in scholarly circles as significant. (Elidibus, of course, refutes this by calling it “a truth long forgotten.”)
Prophecy in fantasy fiction often focuses primarily on predictions of the future, but there is a more nuanced understanding to be had of prophecy as speaking of past, present, andfuture, and of truths fundamental to the nature of reality. This is certainly true of many of the texts we hear Urianger recite. Some offer a more vague sort of wisdom, such as the verse Urianger recites for the Scions upon their departure to the Far East:
Look ye where the sun doth rise, see crimson embers, dark'ning skies... Look ye where the sun doth fall, see azure lost amidst the squall.
There is certainly some meaning to be found in these words with regard to the events of Stormblood: conflict in both east and west, war on both horizons. "Azure lost amidst the squall" might even be interpreted as a poetic reference to Estinien's activities. Still, these words offer no great revelations. Compare this to the Gerun Oracles, which Urianger comes to accept it as not only true, but corroborating the revelations of the Word of the Mother with regard to the Sundering, the Reflections, and their destruction in the Umbral Calamities. Even of this text, Urianger acknowledges, "their copious use of allegory defieth any single interpretation." Prophetic texts, it seems, are rarely straightforward.
So, we return to the question: what is prophecy? Where did these writers gain the insights which they put to verse? Did they even understand their significance at the time of writing? Unfortunately, in this regard we really have only conjecture. I think it's easy enough to come up with plausible theories. The prophets might have been experiencing the Echo; they might have had contact with Ascians; they might have been spoken to by Hydaelyn Herself. The game, alas, does not offer us these answers. Indeed, even of the text most central to Louisoix's journey into Eorzea we know almost nothing.
The Divine Chronicles of Mezaya Thousand-Eyes are a series of prophetic writings that seem to describe each of the first six umbral calamities. This text is so widely-known that even Garleans are familiar with it and the Legatus Nael van Darnus of 1.0 fame also apparently regarded it as prophetic (according to GamerEscape’s 1.0 summary, The Rise and Fall of the White Raven). Of the famed prophetess who penned it, we have almost no information at all. The various fan wikis don't even have pages for her, as there is basically nothing to include there. Her writings, however, seem to be accepted as prophetic. In fact, the six verses of the Chronicles were widely cited as proof that no further Calamities would occur… until a seventh verse was found inscribed on a stone tablet in a cave.
Louisoix Leveilleur, Sharlayan's foremost expert on prophecy, believed this verse pointed to a seventh impending calamity. According the the Unending Codex, it was for this reason that Urianger joined the Circle of Knowing, seeking to understand the truth of this text. And the belief that Eorzea would soon be plunged into another calamity led Louisoix to leave Sharlayan with his followers and venture south into Eorzea to help her city-states prepare for the worst.
In their understanding of this prophetic text, they found purpose. Which leads us to…
Fate and Purpose
I want to return to Urianger's words about Louisoix in the Waking Sands, specifically the latter part of it:
The stars wheel across the heavens, and the skies brighten once more. The survivors gather, and ignite a fiery dawn to burn away the glowering shroud. Ah, but destiny, thou art beautiful...
Destiny, thou art beautiful. This is how Urianger conceptualizes the Scions gathering in the wake of their beloved master's sacrifice. We're still about mid-ARR here, before the Warrior of Light has slain Titan. Compare to Y'shtola's idle dialogue at the same point in MSQ:
As you have doubtless witnessed in your travels, the lands of Eorzea are gasping under the pall of a suffocating darkness. I must wonder if it is this darkness that invites disaster, or simply that disaster has left such gloom in its wake. One thing is for certain: now is not the time to relax our vigilance.
Urianger is hardly unaware of the trials facing the Scions and Eorzea at large, and yet his framing of their present circumstances is distinctly one of hope. Where Y'shtola speaks ominously of "the pall of a suffocating darkness," Urianger speaks almost rapturously of "a fiery dawn to burn away the glowering shroud."
Keep in mind, too, that these words about the beauty of destiny follow directly from Urianger speaking of Louisoix's death. This sentiment will be echoed later when, upon the death of his oldest and dearest friend, Urianger declares, "The moon sinketh, taking her leave of the heavens. Yet her passing heraldeth the coming of a new day. Moenbryda hath fulfilled her destiny, hath she not?"
This is Urianger's response to loss. He affirms his belief in fate—not simply in predestination, in a future that may be foreseen, but in a brighter future that will give purpose to such sacrifices.
Encyclopedia Eorzea Volume 3 tells us that Urianger’s parents rarely had time for him as a child, occupied as they were with their own research. I think this likely impressed upon him from a young age that there was always something more important than him. And when his parents effectively abandoned him with the neighbors and departed for “parts unknown,” never to return, that idea would only have been solidified.
For a child already fascinated by prophecy and the idea of fate, I imagine it could have offered some kind of comfort to believe that the pain of his abandonment was all for a higher purpose, a greater good.
I can imagine how this belief, so ingrained in him as a child, could lead him to go along with his mentor even when Louisoix declared that Moenbryda must stay behind, and offered her no explanation as to why. It's clear that Urianger felt some guilt in the wake of this decision, specifically his choice not to explain Lousioix's intentions, believing their master wanted Moenbryda to come to that understanding on her own. As he laments after his friend's death, "Knowingly did I deny my friend the comfort she craved." Yet he did all of this, undoubtedly, not only out of faith in his mentor's judgment, but because he believed it to be in service of a greater good. And in fact, he seems to take Moenbryda's final words as affirmation that Louisoix was, in fact, correct. "The realization hath set her free. She may now find the peace which hath for so long eluded her."
So in the end, to his thinking, it all worked out as it was meant to.
I don't think Urianger believes that the future is set in stone. If that were the case, then personal choice would be meaningless; there would have been no reason to intervene in the first place, to warn the Eorzean nations of the Calamity, if the future would play out the same regardless. Indeed, Urianger speaks frequently of choice, and agonizes over the difficult choices he holds himself responsible for making.
What he does believe for a long time, I think, is that in the face of an impending and forewarned crisis, there is often only one path forward to avert it. The role of the one who would heed the warnings of the prophets is to make the necessary choices no matter how painful, to take the necessary actions, to make what sacrifices must be made.
When he overhears his oldest and dearest friend about to sacrifice herself to destroy an Ascian, he does not intervene to stop her. He speaks of her having "fulfilled her destiny," even as he will torment himself for this decision for a long time to come.
And as the Scions face mounting challenges for which they are increasingly unprepared, Urianger increasingly decides that his role is to take those burdens upon himself.
Changing Roles
I did not get to experience 1.0 for myself, and so what I know of Urianger's role in it is sadly limited to what has been preserved by other fans. To the best of my understanding, his role was as a kind of doomsayer, traveling from settlement to settlement and sharing prophecies of the Calamities in an attention-getting manner. Though his approach was off-putting to many, his performance ultimately succeeded in its aim: serving as a diversion for the Garlean Empire, leading Legatus Nael van Darnus to fixate on apprehending him, while in the meantime Louisoix and his fellow archons were able to rally the Grand Companies to face the coming crisis. (@mirkemenagerie has a great post about that.)
By the time ARR begins, this performance is no longer needed, and Urianger has taken on a much different role in the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, an organization formed from the merger of Louisoix's Circle of Knowing and Minfilia's Path of the Twelve. He is now the keeper of the Waking Sands, and the Scions' primary adviser on primal lore, and only rarely ventures out in the field with his fellow Archons.
And I think that initially, Urianger seems happy enough with this role. Though he may not get out as much as he once did, the Waking Sands are lively with new recruits. Urianger can be seen at various points during ARR having spirited conversations with other NPCs. In one bit of idle dialogue, he says, "As the primals fall, so do our spirits soar. Though mine aid be but modest, I nonetheless am heartened in my duties."
Urianger is happy here. Though the Scions face many mounting trials, he is surrounded by a community united in purpose with a leader in whom he may place his trust, and his duty is clear.
It's not until the ARR patches, when things really go awry for the Scions, that we begin to see the seeds of doubt in our steadfast arcanist.
The Seeds of Doubt
The defeat of the Ultima Weapon fundamentally alters the Scions' path and their role in Eorzea. While they have always been in communication with Eorzea's leaders and called upon for aid, now they are thrust into the public eye in an unprecedented way. 2.1 opens with Minfilia reflecting upon the myriad support from various parties suddenly on offer—and the price that inevitably comes with it. Urianger seems to share her ambivalence:
'Tis the lot of the powerful to attract the covetous as well as the needy. Thus doth prudence dictate that those with power proffer aid with one hand whilst the other resteth ever on their hilt. Alas, we have not the luxury of time to decipher our petitioners' machinations─nay, not while the beast tribes do labor unseen, defiant in defeat, to raise up their fallen primals once more. Doubt not that they shall return─stronger and bolder both─nor that we shall be the ones to meet them. This sacred charge shall ever be ours. 'Tis but a pity we are so few, and our fortune so finite...
By this point, tragedy has already altered Urianger's surrounds irrevocably. The Garlean attack on the Waking Sands has left dead many of the people with whom he once socialized on a daily basis, leaving the Scions' headquarters a much quieter and more somber place. Urianger himself, fortunate enough to be one of those spared, endured capture and imprisonment.
And further change threatens to unsettle the place and the people amongst whom he has found a home. Despite Minfilia's reticence, we see her increasingly bow to the vision Alphinaud has for the Scions—what he sees as continuing the work his grandfather began. Repeatedly, we see the two of them clash over what is best for the Scions—and each time, we see Minfilia cede ground.
Urianger is not without his own concerns about the Scions’ new direction, though he refrains from clashing directly with either Alphinaud or Minfilia, likely out of his deep respect for both of them. Nonetheless, he chooses to stay behind in the Waking Sands and continue his research there. "I had thought to relinquish the property," Minfilia explains, "but he was quite adamant, and I had not the heart to disagree."
As the Scions prepare to depart for Mor Dhona, Urianger confides in the Warrior of Light:
Thou art ever welcome, [Forename], but I require no assistance. Pray take thy leave unburdened by concern for my well-being. Verily, thy countenance bespeaks a desire to quit this place without further delay. Hm. Mayhap thou thinkest this chapter of our tale concluded─that these halls should rightly be consigned to the annals of history...? In man's eagerness to seize the future, how readily he doth set down the past. Full many a proud pioneer hath bravely stridden into the great unknown, only to find there the banner of his ancestor, faded by the eons. And still man glorieth in his discoveries. 'Tis through his pride that wisdom doth ever give way to ignorance, while they who lurk in shadow remain hidden, lost no sooner than they are found. <sigh> Be not offended, [Forename]. Thy conduct hath ever been beyond reproach. Despite thy surpassing strength, and all thy many victories, thou hast never been so convinced of thine own greatness as to imagine thyself above the failings of thy forebears. Mayhap it is the Echo which hath opened thine eyes to the lessons of history. Would that the same could be said of─
(At which point he is cut off by Minfilia's scream as she is accosted by Elidibus.)
It is not difficult to imagine that in the midst of so much upheaval, Urianger's remaining in the Waking Sands might be his way of clinging to one familiar thing, a place he feels at home, even if it cannot be for him what it once was. That said, he clearly has very real concerns about the Scions' direction on the world stage, and worries that his trusted leader is failing to heed the lessons of history.
I have no doubt that Urianger has great love and respect for Minfilia, but I do think this is when his faith in her as a leader begins to waver a little. Whether he meant to name her or Alphinaud before he was cut off is ultimately irrelevant, as Minfilia has capitulated to Alphinaud's vision for the Scions. (And I don't mean to pick on Minfilia here; she's another one of my favorite characters, and I think she does the best she can with the circumstances in which she finds herself and largely does manage to rise to the challenge of leading the Scions in Louisoix's absence. Through no fault of her own, she's simply ill-equipped to handle the increasing visibility and political volatility of the Scions' position, and the deference with which all the Archons seem to feel they should treat Louisoix's grandchildren only further complicates an already messy situation.)
And the hits just keep coming. Up until now, the Scions have worked closely with the Students of Baldesion, receiving substantial support from the Sharlayan organization and frequently consulting them for their research. They've barely arrived at Revenant's Toll when Urianger brings the news that he is unable to contact the Students, and fears the worst. Not long after, contacts in Sharlayan confirm the shocking news that entire Isle of Val, where the Students had had their base, has vanished. Once again, these likely include colleagues and friends, people with whom Urianger once communicated regularly for a common purpose. Now missing under terrifying circumstances, and feared dead.
It is in the midst of such turmoil that Urianger makes a rare trek out into the field to observe a primal firsthand—feeling, perhaps, that in the absence of the allies who had once provided valuable insights, it is his duty to observe all he can, even if it's quite a departure from his usual domain of written lore. And not long after that, faced with the puzzle of tracking down Lady Iceheart's hidden aetheryte, he calls upon Moenbryda.
In the light of all that has come before, this is such an interesting choice. Moenbryda’s expertise in aetherology is certainly invaluable to their present crisis, but there’s no doubt that it would have been valuable at many points prior. Louisoix Leveilleur has been dead for five years. Only now, after the Scions have suffered major losses at the hands of the Garleans and lost even more with the disappearance of the Students of Baldesion, does Urianger contravene the will of his late mentor, and ask Moenbryda to come to Eorzea.
So far as we know, this might be the only time he’s ever done that.
I bring all this up because it is here, in the ARR patches, where we see Urianger begin in subtle ways to question the wisdom of his trusted leaders. I don’t think this means that he in any way doubts the intentions of Louisoix or of Minfilia, or their principles in the broad strokes. His reverence for Louisoix persists all the way to Endwalker, and he continues to behave with great deference toward Minfilia, as well as toward the twins. There’s just a subtle shift here from Urianger simply doing as he’s told, to Urianger acting out of his own sense of duty to do what he believes necessary.
I didn't realize until the conversation in Endwalker that the implication of Urianger’s “I heard all” is meant to be that he was there just offscreen listening when Moenbryda died, not simply that he heard the others discussing her death after the fact. Though he clearly did not overhear her words about understanding Louisoix’s sacrifice (as the Warrior of Light has to tell him), his Endwalker dialogue makes it clear that he could have called out to her and begged her to live—and he did not. Knowingly, he allowed her to sacrifice herself to destroy an Ascian—for the greater good.
Moenbryda hath fulfilled her destiny, hath she not? Thus does Urianger justify her sacrifice, as well as his own part in it, and thus does her death serve to reinforce his existing beliefs, even as it torments him with undeniable regret.
A Creed Sacrosanct
At the end of the ARR patches leading into Heavensward, the Urianger approached by Elidibus has seen nearly every person and institution in which he placed his faith crumble and vanish. Louisoix is dead, the Students of Baldesion missing and presumed dead, many other friends and colleagues lost, Minfilia missing, the remaining Scions scattered to the winds, the Waking Sands near-empty. Beyond what he may contribute to the search for the missing, coordinated by Tataru from distant Ishgard, Urianger is rudderless and leaderless both.
What remains is his faith in a greater good, in a higher purpose. And this time, when duty calls, he will choose to place that burden on none but himself.
The way Elidibus speaks to Urianger, I don’t doubt that he’s been observing the Archon for some time, because he seems to know exactly what buttons to push. For one thing, he approaches Urianger just when he is at his most vulnerable and alone. The Warriors of Darkness don’t actually come on the scene until post-Heavensward; Elidibus didn’t strictly need Urianger yet and doesn’t seem to have had him doing anything throughout Heavensward, but nonetheless, this is when he chooses to make contact. Upon their first meeting, he says, “I would speak of fate, Archon. Yours, mine—the fate of this very star.”
Later in 3.1, when we see them in the Great Gubal library and Urianger scoffs at the Gerun Oracles as apocryphal, Elidibus replies:
It is a truth long forgotten─a tale of the beginning, and of the path we have been set upon. Our fates were ordained long ago, Archon. The Garleans are no exception. Nor the Triad. You know what must be done.
We have only a few brief scenes of their interactions, and yet in these few words it’s made plain how Elidibus gained Urianger’s faith, not in his intentions, but in the truth of his words. As Urianger says later:
‘Twas in the hope of opening mine eyes to said revelation that they first came unto me, imagining it sufficient to secure mine allegiance. Nor would they have been mistaken─were my heart a temple to truth alone. But as a devoted follower of Master Louisoix's teachings, and for the love I bear him and his, I hearkened not to their words.
Elidibus is able to persuade Urianger of the truth of the Sundering, the Reflections, and the Rejoinings. Where he miscalculates is in missing Urianger’s core belief, his faith in the core of his mentor’s teachings, their entire purpose in coming to Eorzea: To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably save is not wisdom—it is indolence.
By the time his friends are found and the Scions begin to rebuild, Urianger is already in the weeds with Elidibus and the Warriors of Darkness, and that secret in itself serves to further isolate him from his friends—though clearly not without misgivings. After pushing Arbert to confront the Warrior of Light, we see Urianger in a private moment of doubt, saying to himself:
What good a creed one cannot uphold? What hurts soothed, what lives saved... O hapless fool, what hast thou wrought by thine own hands? Minfilia, my friends─I shall not now beg your forgiveness. Full deeply though it paineth me to walk it, I shall not stray from my chosen path. As Moenbryda remained steadfast, so too shall I...
And once again, Urianger places the greater good, those who may yet be saved, before all else. Once again he accepts, as a necessary sacrifice, the loss of a trusted leader and a dear friend—though in this case, it is worth noting, Minfilia is for all practical purposes already lost to her friends, having offered herself to Hydaelyn. It is impossible to say whether she could or would ever have returned to mortal life, given that she has made effectively the same sacrifice the Warriors of Darkness made; nonetheless, her willing journey to the First does, in the eyes of her friends, all but eliminate that possibility. Urianger does not send her to the First, despite what Alphinaud says in an emotional moment; he couldn’t have forced her to go, especially had it gone against Hydaelyn’s will. What he does is functionally what Elidibus did to him: he tells the truth, and offers a choice. As Urianger chose to act, as Moenbryda chose to act, so too does Minfilia.
Nonetheless, he accepts that his friends will hold him responsible, for her loss and for the deception both. This he considers an acceptable sacrifice for the salvation of a distant star. He accepts the burden of this responsibility—and ultimately, he sees his faith in Hydaelyn and in Minfilia rewarded. The First is saved from absolute destruction by Minfilia’s intervention.
It’s no wonder, then, that it takes Urianger so long to change direction. Every sacrifice up to this point has been devastating, but still seemed ultimately necessary. Louisoix. Moenbryda. Minfilia.
It’s no wonder that, upon arriving in the First and seeing what his actions have wrought, he agrees to go along with the Exarch’s plan.
The Point of Failure
Once again, Urianger accepts a temporary deception and a permanent sacrifice as necessary in the service of the greater good.
Though Elidibus and the Exarch have very different motives, I think there are some striking similarities in the way they approach Urianger. Both, it’s safe to say, have observed him and his personality, and deemed him the best choice of accomplice. Both persuade him by getting him alone, and once persuaded, keeping their secrets will further isolate him from his friends. When the Warrior of Light arrives in the First, the Scions are scattered and distant, each pursuing their goals alone, and I think it’s safe to say that the secrecy has contributed to that—particularly for Y’shtola, who seems to have realized early on both that the Exarch was hiding something and that Urianger’s vision didn’t pass the smell test.
Once again, we see Urianger having clear reservations about the path he’s chosen. He appears anguished in the Echo flashback with the Exarch, asking whether this is truly the Exarch’s wish before he agrees. When Y’shtola expresses her concern for the Warrior of Light, and questions him about the veracity of his “vision,” his eyes drop to the floor as if in shame. Still, as before, Urianger accepts that he will face condemnation for what he has been party to. Once again, he has faith that it will all be worth it. The Warrior of Light and the First will be saved, his faith will be rewarded, and he will accept the responsibility for what it cost.
It’s not without cost even for the Warrior of Light, who is kept in the dark about what’s happening to them as they slay the Lightwardens, and clearly suffers considerable pain from the accumulation of Light once it reaches a critical mass. Urianger bears witness to this, and I don’t doubt that he feels remorse for it, even as he is committed to his path.
There’s this beautiful moment after the defeat of the Rak'tika Lightwarden where Y'shtola asks Urianger to describe the night sky to her. He describes it thus:
A sea of shimmering stars. Diamonds strewn across a raven gown, boundless and beautiful. 'Tis an exquisite sight not unlike that of the Source. Calm and gentle... and forgiving...
This comes directly after Y'shtola presses him for the second time on telling the Warrior of Light the truth about the Light's corruption.
Once again, the cost weighs upon Urianger. He longs not only for the reassurance of faith rewarded, of a higher purpose served, but for forgiveness.
In his conversation with Ryne, Urianger speaks of life as "a tapestry of fates," and of the difficult decisions that must be made by those who strive to do good. He concludes with this:
Thou needst but have faith. Have faith and all will be well.
And I don't doubt that he means it. Is this not, after all, what he is doing? Continuing to withhold his knowledge and deceive his friends, out of faith that the Exarch's plan will succeed, and all will be well? If the Warrior of Light declares their trust in his plan in Kholusia, he swears to them that that trust is not misplaced. That their faith will be rewarded, that all will be well.
Thing is, in the end, that sentiment is proven wrong.
Faith isn't enough. The Exarch, however well-intentioned, fails to account for Emet-Selch's interference, the plan fails, and now Urianger is forced to confess his deception, not in victory, but to a friend on the brink of death.
After the revelations with the Warriors of Darkness, Urianger speaks frankly to the Warrior of Light, saying, “Speak thy mind. I do not expect thy forgiveness.” He even says later that Alisaie was right to condemn his choices. But he does not quite say he was wrong, and I think that’s apparent in the fact that when confronted with a similar scenario by the Exarch, though it is with obvious reluctance, he makes a similar choice.
And though Urianger even now does not openly beg forgiveness… his posture toward the Warrior of Light is very different. He goes to one knee, bowing his head before them. He says, “I offer no excuse.” He asks to be allowed to join them in setting things right, promising that his talents are at their disposal. He effectively throws himself upon their mercy. If the Warrior of Light forgives him, the look on his face is one of absolute relief, joy, and gratitude. There’s no doubt in my mind that that is the outcome he most desires, though he hardly dares hope for it.
This time, I think he knows he's fucked up. Perhaps it took the Exarch's plan going terribly sidewise for him to reach that point. I think this is a critical turning point for Urianger, one that sets him on the path to genuinely reevaluating his world view.
A Different Path
I've spent a long time pondering the fact that Urianger never has much of a visible crisis of faith upon learning the true nature of Hydaelyn.   
He remarks upon it, of course, following Emet-Selch’s revelations about Hydaelyn and Zodiark in Shadowbringers:
'Tis oft said truth is a matter of perspective. Yet upon this matter, there can be but one truth. I only pray it is not his.
From that moment on, I was honestly waiting for more of a reaction from him, especially after the confirmation in Endwalker by Hydaelyn’s own words that She is, in fact, a primal. You’d sort of expect it, right? More and more, as time has gone on and their understanding of the world has broadened, the faith of the Scions as a whole and Urianger’s devotion in specific has shifted away from the Twelve and toward Hydaelyn as an all-encompassing mother-goddess. To learn now that She is truly a primal—one of the very beings the Scions have sought to eradicate, for their devastating effects on the land and on people… Can they still trust Her guidance? Are the Echo-blessed merely tempered? What does it all mean?
Indeed, I think that these revelations very likely would have triggered a crisis of faith in pre-Shadowbringers Urianger.
But by Endwalker, Urianger is not that person anymore.
In Endwalker, we see the culmination of Urianger’s long character arc in several key scenes. The first of these comes on the moon, after the Loporrits, well-intentioned but anxious for the success of their venture after the lukewarm response to their preparations, have taken him aside and asked him to act as a liaison of sorts—to use his powers of persuasion to convince their collaborators that the moon will be a suitable vessel for the people of Etheirys.
On the surface perhaps, the Loporrits aren’t asking him to tell any really dramatic falsehoods—just talk up the moon, make it sound good, while passing along any information he can on what could improve it. And all in the service of saving a whole world full of people. He’s done far worse for that.
The subtext, however, is that Urianger would be acting to push the evacuation plan—perhaps at the expense of putting his efforts toward a way to halt the Final Days for good. Though this plan might well save the people of the Source, the reflections would be lost—a sacrifice beyond anything that’s been asked of him before. And yet if they fail to stop the Final Days, and exodus proves the only option left… could his powers of persuasion prove the difference in saving who they still can?
It all seems to immediately strike a nerve. “And so fate doth conspire to set my feet upon this path once more...” Moreover, Urianger hones right in on why he has been chosen for this task. “Is it so plain that these strangers could intuit it at a glance? My capacity for silence and secrecy... and duplicity.”
For a moment, it even appears that he might be considering going along with it. Once again, he references fate… but almost immediately, I think, he begins to turn away from that path. Y’shtola even remarks, “Urianger usually puts more effort into concealing his clandestine endeavors.” And when the Warrior of Light catches up to him, Urianger is unsurprised to see them, remarking, “Thine arrival is timely as ever.” It seems that he has already chosen not to move in shadow.
For his experiences in the First have changed him, and in the conversation that follows, he will explain why.
To me, this scene is a truly inspired moment of character development. In the hands of a lesser writer, we might have just gotten a "I don't want to lie and hide things from my friends anymore, because deception is bad" kind of epiphany. And like, sure, but that's never really been the core of it. Urianger doesn't keep secrets because he loves lying and being deceptive. He actually really doesn't. He hates it. Every time he's done it, it's been because he believed it was the only choice that would server the greater good, and the critical bit, as he finally says so candidly, is that he never looked for another way. Just as he didn't intervene to stop Moenbryda from sacrificing herself so that they could find a alternate source of aether to destroy an Ascian, he didn't look for an alternative to going undercover with the Warriors of Darkness alone, and he didn't try to convince the Exarch to look for an alternate solution to the Light problem.
“Dutiful disciple of Louisoix,” he says of himself, “ever looking to the greater good…” But the greater good part has also never actually been his problem. The Scions are all about the greater good, and most of them have been ready and willing to throw themselves on the sword should the greater good require it. The real significance of this description isn’t the greater good, but the dutiful disciple of Louisoix. Louisoix, their master; Louisoix, the prophet of their age.
Louisoix, who himself once asked Urianger to travel the realm alone and act as a diversion, while he himself moved in shadow to prepare Eorzea for the worst.
Urianger may have a natural talent for theatrics and misdirection, but he didn’t learn this from nowhere. He learned it, and performed it, at the behest of his beloved mentor, his prophet, his saint. The man who said, The worst is coming, and laid before them a path to fight it. And in his absence, Urianger has followed the path that Louisoix laid out for him: doom foretold, and one path to avert it, a path marked by, as he says now, subterfuge and sacrifice.
It's only here on the moon, faced with the request that he be the hype man for evacuating the entire star’s population onto a spaceship crewed by rabbits, that he finally says: There must be another way.
Even now, while he hopes to persuade the Loporrits to consider another avenue, he initially thinks to take that burden on himself so the responsibility of failure will be his alone. But when the Warrior of Light approaches, he confides in them, takes their encouragement to heart, and invites them to join him.
Ultimately, Urianger decides to stay on the moon to offer the Loporrits his aid, while his friends continue their work down on the surface. A plan that allows for multiple contingencies, making the best of the Loporrits’ preparations even as they hope not to need them, and most critically, a plan which requires cooperation and communication, not secrecy. Even now, it is possible they will fail. Yet for the first time, Urianger accepts that he need not carry his burdens alone. He has faith that his friends have the strength, and indeed the desire, to bear them alongside him.
This is the shift in Urianger���s faith, and the reason that in Endwalker his resolve is not shaken, but is in fact stronger than ever.
Standing Together
Urianger’s second key scene in Endwalker comes after he has returned with a gaggle of Loporrits eager to see Etheirys for themselves and learn how they can help.
Here is perhaps a good time to recall again that despite the stories of his early childhood, the Urianger we know as an adult has always been a fairly social person in his own way. In his 1.0 role, he might have been off-putting to some, but he was certainly not a recluse, and the work he was doing required its own particular type of charisma. In ARR we see him not hiding away in a corner with his books, but engaged in conversation with fellow Scions. Even in childhood, it seems like he found it difficult to relate to other children thanks to his singular personality and interests, rather than any innate misanthropy, and Moenbryda’s efforts to befriend him were ultimately successful because she made the effort to understand him.
Isolation seems to mark the darker periods of Urianger’s life, the times in which he undertakes the greatest subterfuge. And even then, he is never truly alone. In fact, he seems to succeed in these situations largely thanks to his skill in understanding and relating to those different than himself—a skill learned from his dear Moenbryda, perhaps. He manages to gain the trust of the very jaded and world-weary Warriors of Darkness. He submits himself to exhausting trials to gain the favor of the pixies and becomes practically an expert in the customs of the fae. It’s little wonder that he bonds so quickly and so well with the Loporrits, facilitating a great exchange of information and a much deeper understanding, ultimately getting them involved in the Scions' efforts to defeat Meteion and stop the Final Days.
For all his eccentricities, Urianger thrives in community, perhaps even more so in community with the odd and the unusual.
And thus do Moenbryda’s parents observe with great affection when they are reunited with him in the Sharlayan hamlet:
Wilfsunn: And look at you now. At the center of the crowd─the reason there even is a crowd, having brought these people together. You've no idea how proud we are. Bloewyda: To see the boy our daughter trusted and believed in more than anyone... grow into the man she always knew he could be.
Urianger’s final key scene in Endwalker is in Ultima Thule.
It took me months to fully process the final events of Endwalker after playing through it. It's not that I disliked it—far from it, in fact. It was deeply cathartic to play through, and left me with a lot of lingering emotions. The main thing I had to grapple with was the sacrifice aspect. For the Scions, I think so much of their arc as a group has been moving past the idea that every victory must involve some heroic sacrifice. We have seen the culmination of Urianger's character arc in his understanding that sacrifice is not always necessary, or at least should not be assumed to be the only way. Moreover, Endwalker as a whole is about the need to stand together. We see not only the payoff of the Scions’ relationships, strengthened over the course of several expansions, but the payoff of the many relationships the Warrior of Light has forged in their adventures, all coming together to save the world.
So why does this story then culminate in the Scions sacrificing themselves one by one, so that the Warrior of Light can forge on alone?
I do think we are meant to understand that the Scions are not permanently dead and gone. Even in-universe, the Warrior of Light is given to understand that between the malleability of reality in this dynamis-based place and the power infused into Azem’s crystal, it is possible to bring their friends back. Hydaelyn hints at it, noting that souls were drawn to the WoL in their journey through the aetherial sea. Y’shtola says it outright:
Though my body will soon dissipate, there may be a way to restore it. Azem's magick. So long as our souls remain, you can use it to summon us back. But you mustn't, for it would mean losing our way forward. This, I only reveal so that you can promise not to invoke the magick.
G’raha, too, as he prepares to give himself to open the way forward, asks the Warrior of Light for several promises for the future, all of which indicate faith that they will be reunited.
And this all builds on what the Warrior of Light has seen in their journeys, in particular the understanding of life and death and the aetherial sea which their descent into the Aitiascope recently confirmed: the souls of the dead do not always dissipate immediately into their component aether, but may linger, still conscious of themselves, in the aetherial sea, even for considerable time. In the Aitiascope, we see departed friends come to the side of the Warrior of Light to lend them aid.
When Bloewyda says, “I can see her in you, too. Feel her. She walks with you, wheresoever you go…” and Urianger replies, “I think… I can feel her too,” it may sound like mere sentiment at the time. When the Warrior of Light and Alphinaud see a vision of Haurchefant and Ysayle at their side as they fight to prise the Eyes of Nidhogg from Estinien’s armor and save their friend, we might doubt whether they are literally there, or whether it’s simply their memory that gives our heroes the strength to succeed. But this, I believe, is what we are meant to take from the journey through the Aitiascope: it is not mere sentiment. In this world, the departed can and sometimes do watch over their loved ones from the aetherial sea for a time, even if they cannot intervene in mortal affairs.
And thus, whatever it is precisely that happens to the souls of the Scions as they leave their corporeal forms in Ultima Thule to bend its reality to their will, they are not gone.
Thancred’s intitial sacrifice to save his friends seems to be pure impulse. He has no time to think, only acts on instinct, and bids them live, and in this asserts his will over reality. When the others understand what he has done, however, each in turn are faced with a choice.
And Urianger’s approach to this choice is somewhat different than the rest. He does not simply announce his decision on the spot, but takes the Warrior of Light and G’raha aside to confide in them. (It seems he still harbors some discomfort in revealing his thoughts to the whole group—perhaps not least because he knows how the twins will respond.) In this conversation he reveals not merely his plan, but the thoughts that have led him there, as well as some guidance for their next steps.
In true Urianger form, he speaks of faith, and of fate. Addressing G’raha, he says:
I once placed my faith in thy chosen path, walking at thy side full knowing that we were bound for thy demise. I ask now that thou returnest the favor, and abide in faith as I fulfill mine own destiny.
I think it is important here that Urianger’s belief in fate, in purpose, persists. Moreover, he uses the word destiny in the context in which he has always used it: to offer purpose and hope in the face of loss.
But no longer does he presume that facing his destiny means facing it alone. “Yet even if I must needs go to such lengths,” he says, “I cannot well feign ignorance of the answer I have found within... The answer to the question: in what moment might I stand strongest?”
It’s clear that since their arrival in Ultima Thule and Thancred’s sacrifice, Urianger has been ruminating upon this question. This time, he has the opportunity to consider the choices ahead, not simply make a decision on the spot, and he seizes that opportunity, looking for where he may do the most good.
He does not say outright what answer he found, not yet, but it becomes clear when he steps up to join Y’shtola in opening the way forward.
My resolve hath never been as strong as thine. Full oft have I wavered in my decisions, and afterwards been stricken with regret. In spite of this, I may still stand with my comrades, supporting them as they attempt the greatest of feats. This truth, I have learned in the course of our journey.
And not only does Urianger help to forge a path by bending reality, by his words and his insights he also helps to guide his friends to confront each new despair that bars the way—even after he has vanished from their sight.
Ultima Thule is not truly about sacrifice, but about a tremendous leap of faith. It’s about the strength to keep going even in the face of loneliness and despair, to know that one is not alone no matter how alone one may feel. This Urianger has learned, and the Warrior of Light will in turn as they take those final steps.
By the end of his arc, Urianger has learned that he stands strongest at the side of his friends. And perhaps this is not quite a new revelation for him, but a truth learned and forgotten and learned again and again. Character growth need not be a straight line. In his youth, Urianger was an isolated child who learned to accept Moenbryda’s friendship, and it was by her encouragement that he pursued his own path of learning which eventually led him to join Louisoix and the Circle of Knowing. I point back to the animated, talkative Urianger we see in ARR, who in the face of loss and sacrifice yet looked to the future with hope, with faith in his companions and in the continued guidance of their mentor. I think this is a truth he has known before, but one he lost sight of as his community and support system crumbled around him. We might look at Urianger’s downward spiral following Moenbryda’s death as a dark night of the soul, in which he clings to his belief in fate and ordained purpose all the more tightly, for what he has sacrificed for them, even as his insistence upon carrying the weight of duty alone sets him upon an increasingly dark and lonely path.
I wonder if he sees something of that dark and lonely path in Hydaelyn Herself, when he stands before Her and hears Her words: “There was no kindness nor justice in the tragedy I wrought.”
And as Hydaelyn is unburdened at last in entrusting the future to others… so now has Urianger found peace by placing his faith in his friends.
Conclusions
Faith has always been a core part of Urianger’s character. All his life, he has looked to forces outside himself to guide him to the truth and the right path forward, and to reassure him in the face of loss: to the gods, to prophetic writings, to trusted leaders, to the stars. And he has striven to follow what he believed was the right path, even when it meant great sacrifice and pain—even when it drove a wedge between himself and the people dearest to him.
In the end, Urianger does not lose his faith, but rather the shape of it changes. In this he finds greater peace and purpose both, understanding that he need not walk in shadow, or alone.
Having finally met Hydaelyn face to face and understood Her purpose, I think Urianger understands that this is, in fact, what She would want. In Her death, She entrusts the future to Etheirys’s people. And though we unfortunately do not get to see Urianger (or most of the Scions) react to the true nature of the Twelve and their departure from the world in Myths of the Realm… I think he’d be okay about that now, too. It is in those who stand beside him that he now places his faith, not in distant gods. And Urianger has faith that his friends will happily share in his burdens, forgive him his failings, and celebrate their victories together.
And in this new faith, he has also gained faith in himself. He can accept his own strengths and weaknesses, confide in his friends without fear of judgment, request their aid without shame. We see Urianger look to the future and embrace his duties with far greater confidence and far less doubt and torment, knowing that even in the darkest moments, he can rely on the friends who stand at his side.
Endnotes
A huge thank-you to @eriyu for her searchable transcript of MSQ dialogue at xiv.quest, without which this essay and most of my Urianger research would have been a great deal more difficult.
An additional thank-you to all the fans who have worked to preserve material from FFXIV 1.0 and make it available on YouTube, on fan wikis, and in tumblr posts; I am forever in your debt.
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krystal-kade · 1 year ago
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Emily
If Vivziepop wanted to write a REAL critique of Christianity (instead of a show misrepresenting and shitting on it) she would have made Emily the main character
A demon suffering at the hands of Christianity? It's fine, but boring
A seraphim who is a devout Christian suffering at the hands of Christianity because of the hypocritical nature of some extreme Christians? SO interesting.
I thought of this listening to "You Didn't Know" from Episode 6.
"Was talk of virtue just pretension? Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you're purveying?" and "If Angels can do whatever and remain in the sky. The rules are shades if gray when you don't do as you say" really made me realize how great if a premise this would be.
Emily is a fucking Seraphim. She's not just extremely Christian: She's an angel. She has a reason to be naive, she grew up in paradise. She genuinely believes everyone's good because that's all she's ever known. She's never experiences hardship, and neither has anyone around her. You know she'd be furious to find out about the exterminations: "Why are "innocent" people having to suffer." She'd want to help others live the wonderful life she's lived. She might help them as an angel, but I think it'd be even more interesting for her to become a fallen angel. Imagine. She lives her whole life a perfect Christian. A perfect angel. A by-the-book girl. A rule following, Bible following good person. She tries to help people from being slaughtered and gets sent to Hell. It doesn't matter how much of a Christian she was, because she went against those in charge of Heaven (similarly to how you can be a Christian, but are ostracized if you go against the Church). She would either get Heaven to change, and be invited back into Heaven, or she would work to create a better Hell as some sort of ruler. She has infinitely more motives than Charlie, and her naivety has more reason. She would know better how to help people become better people. Emily's journey from being a well respected and influential seraphim to a disowned and ostracized fallen angel would be so interesting to see, much more interesting than the mess we got with Charlie
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