#he tried to kidnap kaede and her baby sister during the sharlayan exodus

[dawnslight-aegis]

5. barbarous

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

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

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

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

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

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