#one of the best elezen

[nabaath-areng]

long time no estieeha

my eyes hurt a lot so couldnt be bothered to tweak or edit much if at all

[candycryptids]

😇- What's their best trait?

👿- What's their worst trait?

for Tuesday and Chuu

“Miss Chuu’s best trait? Mmm… You said this is an interview for your retelling of the Warriors of Light and their journey, right? I’d say it’s her unshakeable resolve. She decides she’s going to do something, and she doesn’t give up until it’s done. Ah… I’m not allowed to speak more on Miss Chuu without her presence, my apologies, mister Levraut.”

“You broke into my house,”

“Your lovely wife let me in actually,”

“To wake me up from my nap and interrogate me on my assistant,”

“Interview, Mademoiselle, not interrogate. Though I am sorry for waking you, your eyes were open so I assumed-”

“Ah-ta-ta. You wanted to know Two’s best trait right? Adaptability. Any environment, any obstacle… he’s got brains enough to figure the way through most anything. And failing that? He knows a top notch engineer in Magitek to kit him with the right tools to overcome his few shortcomings. Hey wait did you fucking call me a mad gazelle, you lop-eared scab?!”

“Thank you for your time, both of you. I have just one more question before I consider this interview complete and I let you both go back to your.. erm, busy schedules. What would you say is each others weakest trait?”

“I knew it! This IS an interrogation! Two, don’t-”

“Ah, that would be Miss Chuu’s paranoia, mister Levraut. Most of her other traits net positive gain,”

“Watch your mouth, Two.”

“That is.. ah, her paranoid trait has served to pull her out of many situations she would have landed in had they not afforded her foresight and caution to approach most situations.”

“Two’s worst trait is how I just can’t seem to keep mad at him when he finds and exploits loopholes in whatever rules I’ve set for him. And last week I asked him to bring me lunch, and he was nowhere to be seen for nearly six bells.”

“… Miss Chuu, if I may, you were in Azys La, and you called me via Linkpearl to bring you specifically egg sandwiches from the Bismark, even utilizing the Aethernet it takes time��� and when I arrived at your last marked location you were nowhere to be found.”

[Duo Oc Ask Meme !]

[tsunael]

I've been working on a potential pose pack (!?) these last couple of weeks. It's my first one so I need to do some serious testing on different races and more general tweaking, but so far I'm pretty happy with the results! So, have some shitty previews!

Content warning of Tsuna in her skivvies.

[checkuu]

my greatest work of art

@yangyexin

[tishinada]

Day 9: Mirror

Would that I could deny

What lurks in dark mirror

What rages in that eye?

Who has ear to hear her?

And yet if I turn

My gaze upon her

Eyes with fire burn

My own dark mirror

At the end I can

But embrace her

Her fires to fan

My dark mirror

[tovaicas]

love running into other duskwight players btw because there are only six of us in existence

[halonicheart]

Take portraits in Holminster Switch, the lighting in the forested area you first spawn in is so fun to work with.

[elf-simp]

I've been crafting all day and I'm bored so it's time to elf post.

Here's the last elf I have, #3. Madeline Beauchêne!

She was once known by a different name before she moved to Limsa where she now works primarily as an apothecary. And man, she's got more than a handful of skeletons in the closet. One time that was literal! On the surface: She's a sweet and outgoing person who loves to go around town on her days off and just chill, be it at a bar or just on a bench somewhere reading a book. Otherwise she works almost tirelessly to help people in any way she can, especially those she's closest too. In her unending pursuit of doing good, however, she's been lead into some... Mysterious places.

[idalenn]

Day 4 - Reticent

Worqor Zormor - Lillian and Alisaie switch up the plan to harry the Second Promise. (7.0)

Major characters: Warrior of Light, Thancred, Urianger

Full text below the cut

Quick as a lie, Lillian’s hand snapped away from her forehead and a golden cord yanked Alisaie whole into her grip.

“We’re changing the plan,” Lillian growled, twisting the younger girl around to get at the leather tube slung across her back. “Alisaie, you and Krile stay with Wuk Lamat, and I’ll head off the others at the pass instead.”

“What’s come over you,” the girl cried. “So. Suddenly?” Wrenching with all force in her Elezen frame, she tried to free herself to no avail. Lillian’s arms were muscle woven with steel.

“Thancred got the best of us. Heard all we – quit moving – intended. They’ll expect your harassment up ahead.” Her deft fingers slid around the tube’s hooks, undoing them one after another. So much easier without gloves, she thought. In short order the map was flapping in her hand. “But not mine.” Krile nodded, clarity writ plain on her face.

“The Echo. We’ll leave this to you, then.” She knocked their Hrothgar claimant across one hand with the dripping end of her brush. “Worqor Zormor awaits us, Third Promise. Our friend will rejoin us once she’s finished.”

Confusion reigned over Wuk Lamat’s own expression. “Does anyone care to enlighten me on this?”

“It must needs be later, I’m afraid. Just run for now. I’ll do my best to inform you of the basics on the way.”

“So it goes.” Wuk Lamat’s shoulders slipped with a heavy sigh. Beyond a protesting Alisaie, Lillian hurriedly crumpled the map into a long green pocket of her cape. “I bring you into my circle for help and you look to escape me at the first chance. Sometimes I think you just can’t toler-AH–” Wind took the rest of her words, loose earth and shards of rock showering the remaining party as Lillian raced off with its power at her back, yalms melting away with each stride.

 Up the path she went dodging around fallen stone outcroppings and growths of blue and violet crystal, the image of the Second Promise’s ascension on a column of air with Thancred and Urianger in tow still burned into her eyes. Not one soul in that damned town malms below had mentioned that was a possibility. Or perhaps her attention had fallen off at the wrong time in conversation and missed its passing mention in one of many grand tales she had been forced into hearing, some unexplainable act that had allowed the defeat of a rampaging beast like Valigarmanda. That was the irritating part about scholars like Koana; legends always held a grain of truth, and those learned as he always knew how to exploit those grains. Like as not down in the valley there existed some Sharlayan device he’d built capable of calling tempests to aid him.

Irritated, she slammed her staff into the mountain face and flooded it with aether. Juts of jagged, black stone ground out, dislodging flora that had lain root in the rock and birds that had found roost in the plants. Once extended enough for use, she bound up the cantilevered platforms, staff readied, its tip alight with pearlescent aether. One bird arrowed towards the Miqo’te, squawking complaint till light and petrichor found their mark, the smell of roast windkin filling Lillian’s mouth with water and nearly sending her feathered cap flying into the abyss. She almost shed a tear as the bird tumbled limp trailing feathers through the clouds.

After the last step, Lillian found herself on a mountain ledge flanked by a low rise of boulders and flowered moss. She drew out the time weathered map and flattened it on the ground, tsking at a tear she made in her haste to abscond. Wuk Lamat had been correct, but why waste time and confirm to the child claimant what she already knew? She was haughty, naïve, self-absorbed, and above all, a fool who believed Lillian’s actions took her well-being into consideration.

Were you not similar once, and did you not learn better? The voice of logic nagged. Quiet. Never so much as she, Lillian thought back, smoothing the spot Thancred pointed out to the Second Promise; a wide pass dotted with the ruins of ancient walls

“Alisaie plans to harry us here. She’s a quick-footed little pest, but we’ve battled alongside long enough for me to know exactly where her faults lie, and I’ve been itching for the opportunity to knock her down a peg or four. I’ll have her in bed without supper and you your victory before the Third Promise realizes she’s been made.”

We’ll see if you can manage the same against me, she thought, stuffing the map back down, wind licking at her heels as she ran. Beastkin poked their soft, red noses from their dens as she passed and retreated just as quickly. Excitement made her ears unable to stay still. They beat a dangerous leather heartbeat against their coverings sewn into her cap. Her thoughts were smothered, but so were the land’s whispers.

The ruins were a short jaunt away. There, the ground was soft and pocketed with fist-width craters filled with tepid water. Vegetation grew verdant from the civilization’s desiccated corpse to cover the bones in green embrace.

There it was. Along the path to the mountain’s summit, a towering stone barrier stood solemn. Dutiful. For a Miqo’te clad in forest colors: easily concealed behind. Some great hand had torn a hole through its skin and left a passage from ruin to path providing the perfect redoubt from which to utilize a White Mage’s magic against unwary passersby. Lillian sprinted across the sodden field, her mind bursting with all the possibilities to slow down her opponents.

As she reached the hole, a white blur faded into the open space.

A reticent blur of white absent of sound, of tension, of presence and definition. The pressure of existence swelled gradually with each fifth of moment. Her brain fired desperately on every available detail.

Bulk; clothing; the jangling of canisters; his interwoven bandolier; plant musk hiding his scent.

Thancred?

Who could claim the greater surprise? Not he, who knew of a coming. Not her, who knew of an arriving.

But if anything, he didn’t appear surprised at all. In fact, he was even –

Smiling?

A strong, hardened jaw stared back at her, yellow teeth glinting from a light growing –

From below?

A tickle started in her brain. Understanding came before the knowing.

Water flew into her hand from the puddle below before growing outward in a blue, glass-thin sheen in the path of the gunblade’s edge, hardening into a shield faster than the blooming muzzle flash. The explosion sent her flying back in a trail of dust and smoke. Powder smell filled her nose. Her ears rang with a cannon blast. Wind gathered thick around in a shroud of green aether to carry her from danger, willing herself to land upright on stable ground.

But as she did, a sigil circled with arcane letters expanded across the stone.

Rolling in the air, her hand wreathed in blinding green tore across the space as a wave of wind struck her full in the side mere ilms from the sigil, lifting the Warrior of Light to send her tumbling bodily across the ground and out of the way of harm as the sigil vanished in a thunderclap of dust and heat. Coughing up more dust caught in her throat, she turned blazing yellow eyes to the cloud of soot obscuring her would-be assailants.

“Bastards… the both of you.” She rose on shaking legs. Shards of broken stone had ripped tears in the cloth of her garb. Blood sheathed from a deep, muddy cut on her arm, but nothing else felt broken.

“Come now, we’re all friends here, and what’s a scuffle between friends.”

Thancred sauntered out from the debris, a shite-eating grin ballooning across his handsome features. Following suit with a light chuckle was Urianger, his astrometer spinning at the ready with cards prepped for reading.

“Our comrade believeth her hand superior to thine own.”

“Count yourself lucky that Alisaie hadn’t been the one around that corner.” Lillian spat a globule of saliva laced with red. “You might have killed her.”

“And I would have been eternally guilty for the act, make no mistake.” Somehow Thancred’s smile grew wider. “But, thankfully, no luck was necessary. You came around just as I had planned.”

“Planned? Ha!” Lillian tossed back her head to laugh. The movement made her wince. “Unless one of you can divine the future, my being here is all luck. And where has the Second Promise gone?”

“Ahead,” Thancred said.

“Thou would beggar of us an explanation?”

“Please. I’m all ears – hold…” She held up a finger hazy with radiant white and plunged the digit into her ringing ear. As the aether healed the damage from Thancred’s attack, the plants around her feet withered into brown husks and crumbled to join the dirt. “Apologies – Now I’m all ears.”

“Your Echo.” Thancred wore the face of a child swimming in an ocean of unwrapped candies. At Lillian’s widened eyes, he continued. “A most useful tool in our adventures, being allowed to witness past events as they occurred. But only as they occurred.”

“Of strength in sight does it boast, yet Master Thancred, awash in inspiration and long accustomed, privy to thine Echo’s potency, hath discovered the flaw in its making.” He held a hand to his lips and laughed lightly. Lightly and restrained. “Deceived we were, as means to deceive you.”

Lillian shook her head. “Somehow I believe this is just some trick to keep me here.”

“Oh, you were tricked, all right. Now your turn comes – what did the Echo show?”

“And why would I tell you?”

“You saw us discussing plans with Koana; plans to ambush Alisaie; plans in which I spoke of knocking her down a peg or four? You witness events exactly as they occur, so once we witnessed you succumb to the Echo’s effects…” Thancred placed a hand to his forehead.

“Into the fold were the Second Promise and I giveth allowance, and a trap thus lain for our dearest friend.”

Thancred’s fingers drummed along the gunblade’s handle. “Do pass on my thanks to Alisaie. Had it not been for her plot on Ultima Thule confirming you’ve density common with archon loaf, this endeavor may not have been as fruitful as hoped.”

The skin under Lillian’s left eye began to quiver. White aether burst at her wounded arm as the dirt crumbled into fine powder under her boots. “I hope you realize what you’ve earned.” Her words came out as a low hiss, the corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly upward.

“A prize, I wager! And a prize Urianger and I have wished so long to taste.”

“Indeed. We bringeth all our might to bear, that we may witness might worthy of song and notoriety, what bringeth even eikons to heel.”

With a malicious cacophony, like to an endless sea of keening glass, from Lillian’s back spread opalescent wings of aether aflame, size and ferocity swelling until she was rendered a silhouette before their crescendo. Sensation of needles prickled against the Scions’ skin, and the myriad wounds below notice across her flesh steamed forth white clouds until hale and closed.

“Try not to choke on it.”

[iron-sparrow]

Whew, had to think about this one for several days. Hope you like these Yein Facts™ and don't forget to LIKE & SUBSCRIBE for more daily Yein content.

Many warm thanks to @sparrowsong-7 @lilbittymonster @thefreelanceangel @bunnyboybosom and @sealrock for the tags! ₊˚⊹♡

B A S I C S

Name: Yein Que-Sae/Yein of Iron

Nicknames: Iron, Sparrow, Little Sparrow, Little Bird, Chompers

Age: Somewhere between 35 and 40, they think?

Nameday: 32nd Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race: Duskwight Elezen

Gender: None

Orientation: All

Profession: Free paladin ⛊ and also professional lover

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: Magpie

Eyes: Amber (damaged: citrine)

Skin: Iron gray

Tattoos/Scars: No tattoos, but they are covered in a lot of scar tissue. A lot of it is actually prominently displayed on their face; decorating their cheeks, cutting over one eye, and removing some of their lip to expose a bit of teeth. Their body has a number of scars earned through years of combat before their first death, plus torture marks clustered over their back.

They will also paint their face when they explore the Shroud, to hide from Elementals.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Eun Que-Sae † and Jienfrex Maz-Yeh †

Siblings: Their twin brother, Sacheo Maz-Yeh

Grandparents: Unknown †

In-laws and Other: Their little found family consists of their partners Nolanel and Derrinall, and a little fae creature calling herself Dinky Dinky. They also consider their mentee Odette to be family.

Pets: They care for sparrows due to spiritual/religious reasons, but they don't actually see or keep these as pets.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Yein is a stone-wielding paladin, so they do have some abilities based on the PLD class (through fancy aether manipulation). They can also see the dead, and communicate more meaningfully with said dead people via rituals.

Hobbies: Sparring, writing poetry, collecting books (with mostly illustrations), foraging the woods, tending to their hidden shrines, and doing various forms of physical exercise ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Their big, big heart! They make sure to leave space for everyone they meet.

Most Negative Trait: Often thinks they know best. Also, they're pretty stubborn.

L I K E S

Colors: Gold, black, and bright reds

Smells: Burnt wood, fresh soil, Ul'dah after heavy rains, curry on the stove, and most flowers ❀

Textures: Silk and loose linens, worn leather, cool tile on bare feet

Drinks: Black iced coffee, Gridanian whiskey

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Eh? Not cigarettes, but see "Drugs" below.

Drinks: Yep! Not as much as they used to, but they like a tasty beverage.

Drugs: Only sometimes, and only if the grass is really good.

Mount Issuance: They have a loyal chocobo, Arbiter. He was bred for the Thanalan heat and served as a very good companion to Yein in life. When they died, Arbiter was found by Sacheo searching the place where Yein was last seen/killed.

Been Arrested: Yes! They were briefly held as a political prisoner while still serving the Sultana, prior to the Calamity. Shockingly, they've managed to stay out of Gridanian gaols.

₊˚⊹♡ Tagging @prudentfolly @this-is-ris @nolanel-corbeaux, @guillotine-of-the-snake @justatheo @archaiclumina @chadhunkler @abyssalmermaiden Very sorry if you've already been tagged! (•ᴗ•,, ) I tried to avoid duplicates.

[candycryptids]

👿- What's their worst trait?

eheheh >:) for whoever you feel it would be the most fun to answer!!

Firstly thank you for da ask ;w;!!! This was spicy because I’m actually going to talk about my husbands guy a little bit… and show y’all post ShB-semi-into-EW Ishi eheheehee- tho there’s a very very mild ShB spoiler so watch out!

“I appreciate you taking time out of your day to speak with me, and answering all the questions I’ve had concerning your journey and how you’ve felt through it all… Your insight into the first and your extensive knowledge of Feo Ul was quite interesting.”

“Mmhm, it’s been surreal recounting everything that happened, but at least SOMEBODY’s writing it down now.. And Their Majesty has made wielding scholastic magic much easier, since I can’t summon my own faerie normally. Are you sure you don’t want a cookie? They’re Kizuna’s da’s recipe, you know.”

“Ah, speaking of Kizuna… You two have started dating right? The two shining beacons of heroism and do-gooding-recklessly, surely you know better than anyone else what he’s like. We all know his good side, but what about the bad?”

“Eh???? EHHHH?? Where’d you get that idea?! D-dating… uhm… you’re not going to write that in your book right? That’s- that’s just speculation! Besides we’re not really public yet, Uhm, h-he’s really great, I can’t think of a bad trait, really, he can cook, he’s wicked with all kinds of weapons, he’s strong, and, handsome, he’s gentle with kids, and animals… He’s always trying his best, you know? Uh-uhm… he built his own house, in Ishgard-“

“I already know all about that, Ishi, I actually stopped by there last week to see if he was there. Besides. every Hero needs their tragic flaw, or they risk becoming as untouchable Gods in the mind of the people. So, give me something to work with, it doesn’t have to be grand, just, something that grounds him back in the common man.”

“But Kizuna’s not a common man- ah… ff..fine, ok, sometimes, uhm, I think… I worry, he makes himself miss out on fun stuff, because he’s worried more about keeping everyone and everything safe. Someone somewhere falls into peril and it’s, his problem now. I can usually make him slow down, but sometimes we both end up really swept up in it… uhm… I don’t know. Oh… my cookie……”

“… I think I can work with that…”

Kizuna belongs to @zombiesockfuckinglovescardfight •v• (and if he wants to add something to this he can! >:3)

[Duo’s OC Ask Game]

[briar-ffxiv]

FFXIV Write #27 - Memory

FFXIV Write 2024 Master Post

Prompt #27 - Memory

Note: Briar visits his mother's resting place.

Trigger warning: Mentions of death of a parent (mother) and grief.

Briar ran slim fingers gently over the trunk of the willow tree. It was his mother's tree, as he had always thought of it. As his mother, Saule, had told him, the willow had been there since before Briar's grandparents even built the cottage. Nonetheless, it was Saule's tree.

Although the memories had faded with time, many of the ones he held closest to his heart were of sitting under this very tree with his mother. When she had passed one cold winter, Briar had spent hours digging under it to bury her there. He couldn't think of a place better for her to rest than under her favourite tree.

When the red moon had fallen and torn the skies apart, it was between the roots of the old willow a young Briar had curled up, trying to hide from the chaos around him. It was both a blessing and a miracle that the fires had not touched the old willow. Some part of Briar was sure it was his mother's spirit protecting both him and her beloved tree...

Perhaps that was a foolish thought, but it gave him some comfort.

Since his mother's death, Briar had always done his best to tend the tree lovingly. He didn't protest the creatures that lived in it, of course, for it was their home too. But he made sure that no vines choked it and that the roots were well cared for. If a branch was damaged, he would mend or remove it as best for the tree. If a tree could be loved, Saule's willow was by her son.

It was a place of memories, both bittersweet and comforting.

Today, he sought it for comfort. Out of habit, he brushed a hand over the tree, sending a small thread of aether to curl around it, touching the tree's essence. The half-Elezen smiled as he felt the familiar, old but strong energy of the tree. It reassured him that the willow was doing well. He stroked the trunk and shifted to the side, sliding down to sit on one of the thick, visible roots so he could rest his head against the tree.

Briar grimaced, rubbing a hand on his scarred throat. Strangely, it was moments like this that he most resented being forced into silence. It hurt that he could no longer speak to his mother for comfort the way he once had...

He looked down, feeling the prickle of tears both angry and sad, fighting them back as they were useless in the moment. His gaze fell on the warm soil between the roots and he brushed a hand over it, pausing suddenly. For a long moment, Briar was still before he wiped his palm to clear away some of the fallen leaves as the seasons turned.

With a light touch, he wrote in the soil, tapered fingers drawing letters into the welcoming earth. Hello, Maman. I miss you. He rested his hand on the earth where his mother rested and leaned against the tree, eyes sliding shut as the tears finally fell.

[hazelkjt]

quarrel — for the single-word drive!

"Quarrel- A heated argument or disagreement, typically about a trivial issue and between people who are usually on good terms."

Light snowfall danced upon the winds at Falcon's Nest, the sun fighting its never ending battle to pierce the clouds. The cold atmosphere usually gets to Hazel, but something else was currently on her mind at the moment. Someone else, more specifically. As the Au Ra waited by the airship landing zone for the next flight back to Ishgard, her gaze was fixated on a certain young Elezen tending to his bruises and aches. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Emmanellain de Fortemps had a curious smile across his face. "Ugh...I know I had asked you not to hold back against me old girl, but you may have gone overboard this time." He remarked to Hazel with a pained chuckle in his voice. The Auri woman turned her face away from the man and scrunched her nose. "I have no idea what you mean, I sparred the same way I always do." She spoke while trying her best to keep her disdain as low as she could, to little effect. There it was again. "OId girl." A term of endearment Emmanellain used for his female friends, however few he has. Hazel knew she shouldn't hold it against him for using it with her, she knows that...but regardless...

"...or perhaps the fact that you have been fighting more fiercely of late means I truly am improving! Lady Laniaitte is sure to take notice!" And the mention of her brings Hazel back to Emmanellain's rambling she was ignoring. Hazel turned back to face the Elezen, the look on her face enough to wipe the dazed grin from his. "Is something the matter, old girl?" He asked, genuine confusion in his voice. Hazel had kept her mouth shut for as long as she could, but just couldn't stand it anymore. She stands up, hands curling into fists as she stares daggers at Emmanellain. "How long do you intend to keep living in your own little fairy tale about her? There's no fucking way you're this dense. You've got something resembling a brain in there, Emm." A slight scowl formed on her face as she began to air her frustrations. Emmanellain stops rubbing his bruised ribcage and leans back on the ground, breaking eye contact with Hazel. "I...haven't the slightest what you mean, haha!" He forces a smile to the surface, but the shaking in his voice gives it away. So Hazel continues to press the subject. "Oh come on Emm, it's the most obvious thing on the star. She doesn't care for you! At all! You're just a nuisance to her!" Emmanellain begins to stand and opens his mouth to respond, but Hazel cuts him off, taking a step closer and folding her arms. "No matter how much you try and improve or impress her, it won't work! So why in all the hells are you so determined to try and woo her when-" Hazel suddenly stops mid-sentence. Idiot! What, were you really gonna say 'when I'm right here!?' How stupid can you get!?

The pained look in the Elezen's eyes is quickly discarded as he lets out another chuckle, closing them with a self-assured smirk rising on his lips. "Ah, old girl, you must be mistaken. Love is not something that is created in an instant, and...let us call it general annoyance is not the natural opposite of love. The fates call Lady Laniatte and I together, and one day-" Hazel cuts him off once more with a stomp of her foot, tail flying up behind her in anger. "Would you wake up already, dumbass!? Even you can't be stupid enough to believe that!" Emmanellain's brow furrows, but his smile remains. He opens his eyes to make contact with Hazel's, but her intense stare quickly makes him avert his gaze to the side. The young man is more visibly flustered, playing with an end of his hair for a moment before continuing. "Ahh...well...have you ever heard of the expression 'Tis better to give love without receiving love, than to never have loved at all?' Quite the simple yet powerful saying, I would say." Hazel's tail drops in surprise, she hadn't expected him to give in so quickly. "...So you do know? Then why the hells do you keep trying when you could be giving your 'love' to someone who'd be happy to give some back!?" The Au Ra's cheeks slowly turn a light shade of pink as she processes what she just said. "I think um-y'know, uh-I mean, there's gotta be someone out there!" She stammers, cursing her voice for getting a little higher pitched and her tail for beginning to sway side to side.

The smile fades from Emanellain's face for a moment before another takes its place, one very obviously forced. He scoffs and crosses his arms. "What, others interested in me? When my much more esteemed and accomplished brother is right there as well? That's quite a reach, old girl." Hazel's nose scrunches again as she frowns. "Stop calling me that..." She mutters under her breath, but the flash of confusion on the Elezen's face makes it clear he heard her.

Eager to change the subject, Hazel once again glares at Emmanellain. She could feel her anger getting to a boiling point. "I thought you were past this whole comparing yourself to Artoirel thing? You don't have to be better than him at anything! Just a better you!" The young Elezen rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. "Oh, do not misunderstand me old girl-ah, apologies. Hazel. I am quite comfortable with who I am...comfortable enough I suppose. But as you said yourself, I am not that big of a fool. His reputation precedes him, as my reputation precedes me." Hazel found herself grinding her teeth as the man continued, her temper rising once again. "I understand well enough why those seeking courtship would not give me more than a passing glance. And I have made peace with that...so I instead give my love to those around me, even if I receive none in return." A sad smile rises on his features as Emmanellain brings his arms up, as is presenting himself. "After all who would harbor love for a man like me?" And there it was, her breaking point. With a growl and her tail pointed straight upwards in anger, Hazel lunges forward and grabs the straps of Emmanellain's armor. The Elezen became wide-eyed in both confusion and fear as Hazel glared at him, her cheeks beginning to burn bright red...and tears beginning to form in her eyes. Before the man could say anything or push her away, she yelled directly in his face.

"I DO, YOU IDIOT!"

Emmanellain could only stare in shock as Hazel fought back tears. "Wh-" his question was interrupted by Hazel pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you..." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, he could barely make out what she had said. The two stood there in silence, only the occasional sniffle from Hazel to break the quiet atmosphere around them. Eventually, Emmanellain spoke up. "...How long?" He asked, still too shocked to return the hug he was receiving...alongside the aches and pains from training.

Hazel prepared herself to answer by taking a few deep breaths, loosening her bear hug on the bruised man ever so slightly. "I don't remember when...but it's been a while..." She weakly gets out, slightly louder than before. Emmanellain is finally able to close his gaping mouth and begins to stir, hesitating still however. "Me?...are you sure?" The uncertainty in his voice was clear as day, almost as if he was also about to cry.

Hazel responded by holding him tighter in her arms. "Shut up and hug me back already." With a strained chuckle, Emmanellain slowly brought his arms around the Au Ra, taking a deep breath himself. "Of course." And with his final words, the two stayed in silence while awaiting the airship, both oblivious to the streak of sunlight breaking through the dull grey of the clouds.

[sasslett]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 2: Horizon

It was with all her courage that Jess placed her foot in her stirrup, hoisting herself up onto her trusty steed and clutching his reins, vehemently pushing down the fear rising in her chest. 

She trusted Helios, of course - he'd never done her wrong, in the year since she'd bought him from Bentbranch, through all the crazy adventured she’d put him through across Eorzea. But, well… that was on the ground.

But flying? In the air? Hundreds of fulms above the safety of the land? 

“Are you ready?”

The Highlander glanced aside to find her Elezen friend grinning at her. He was, of course, the picture of confidence, just as he always was, his smile warming his deep, golden eyes… and warming her heart, as much as she hated to admit it. But it was, perhaps, the onze of confidence she needed. And so she nodded, taking a deep breath and settling herself into her seat…

Only to yelp as Helios flapped his wings and lifted off behind Varrus and Angel. Jess quickly scrambled for whatever grip she could, leaning forward and tightly wrapping her arms around her bird’s neck - earning her a chuckle from her fellow dragoon. 

“Just relax,” she heard Varrus call over the whistling of the winds around them. “Don’t look down, and if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“Like hells you will,” she grunted through gritted teeth; as kind as the sentiment was, there was no way, should she slip, that he could swoop beneath her and prevent her from plummeting into the bottomless chasm surrounding Ishgard below. 

Ever-so-slowly, she cracked one eye open, then the next… peering down at the churning mists and crying out once more. Perhaps she would have admired the view, the snow-capped mountains around them, the rising sun tinting the skies a deep pink, with naught on the horizon but new lands to explore and new adventures to be had, were she not practically paralyzed by fear.

Why, oh why, had she allowed Varrus and Haurchefant to talk her into this? 

Because, she knew, as she opened an eye once more to eye her best friend, she’d do anything for that damned Elezen. 

And damn him, he knew it, too, as he met her single-eyed gaze once more with a grin. 

“Don’t think too hard,” Varrus encouraged. “Trust in your seat and your steed, and let yourself enjoy the thrill of the air.”

Well, seeing as she hadn’t quite died yet, she slowly opened her other eye, pointedly not looking down as she pushed herself up in her seat… And she had to admit, as per usual, he was right. It was nothing short of exhilarating, finding herself soaring through the frigid Coerthas air, snowflakes gently hitting her face, the only sound the flap of the chocobos’ wings and the wind whipping through her hair. 

She felt a smile slowly creeping onto her face, and she set her reins down upon Helios’ shoulders, throwing her head back and her arms wide as she embraced the freedom of the skies. She couldn’t help but laugh, a feeling of pure joy overcoming her. 

She was flying. She was flying! Up there, she was free… only her and her best friend, all their troubles left below and their eyes set upon the horizon, upon new adventures. And in that moment, that was all that mattered. 

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

heavensward-- bitter pill

(some time before helping Artoiel out in Coerthas Western Highlands)

Haurchefant had learned that when he was in a mood, it was best for him to identify the source and the reason why his temper was up. To confront it head on, force himself to accept it, and then work with whatever solution he could come up with. Sometimes the resolutions were bitter, but he could always soothe the sting.

Not this time.

The training dummies were in sorry shape, having been the victims of both sword and shield since the Silver Fuller had locked himself in the training room. Yet Haurchefant wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. His body moved through the training drills on automatic, his mind racing. The memory of what he’d witnessed this morning stuck on endless repeat inside his brain.

----

They’d been at breakfast—himself, his father, his brothers, and Riven. There’d been no sign of Alphinaud but that was almost normal now, the younger elezen getting up early in the mornings to meet with Tataru. Then the House steward had come in…

“Ser Augustine Truehart requests an audience with you all, my lords. The young lord Alphinaud is with him.”

“Truehart?!” Artoiel exclaimed. “What does he want to see all of us about?” Everyone knew of Augustine, one of the most powerful knights of the city. His skill in combat was unmatched, as was his dedication to Halone. His reputation was a bit checkered however, it was common knowledge he’d defied the Archbishop’s edict against leaving and had gone to train at the Gladiator’s Guild in U’ldah, even becoming a popular Bloodsands fighter. He’d returned to Ishgard some years ago and had won a coveted place in one of the more elite paladin orders. Rumors had it that he’d been tied with both Zephrim de Valhourdin and Aymeric de Borel for the positions of the Very Reverend Archimandrite of the Heavens’ Ward and Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. Edmont nodded to the steward.

“Give them leave.” He instructed. The servant bowed and left. Moments later the dining room door opened. Alphinaud was the first to walk in, with Augustine trailing him. There was a look of determination on his face.

“My lords.” Alphinaud stopped and offered a bow, Augustine mirroring him. “I beg pardon for disturbing you.”

“No apologizes needed.” Edmont replied. “Ser Truehart, you honor us with your presence—and I admit, have sparked some curiosity. Have you come here to issue a challenge to my sons again for the upcoming tournament?”

“No, my lord.” Augustine answered, a faint smile appearing on his face. “I will not be participating in any tournaments soon. Which I confess, does rob me of the chance to spar with the lords Fortemps and Fuller.”

“Come to Camp Dragonhead, friend!” Haurchefant invited. “I am most certainly eager for a rematch, and perhaps you will show me some of the Ul’dans’ tricks!” Augustine offered a faint smile at that, but his eyes flicked to Alphinaud. There was…anxiety in the paladin’s eyes, Haurchefant realized. His interactions with Augustine had always been brief, but never had he seen the paladin be nothing but stoic. A quick glance around the table showed him that both Artoirel and Emmanellain had caught the uncharacteristic display as well.

What’s going on?

“Ser Augustine approached me early this morning, which resulted in us having to speak with Tataru.” Alphinaud broke into the silence. “He has…come to a decision, which we both have said yes to—and covers a topic we had been debating with you, Riven.”  Riven blinked at that, tilting her head. Alphinaud turned to look at the armored Hyur.

“Augustine?”

“As of today, I have joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn in my full capacity as a paladin of Ishgard.” Augustine declared. His pronouncement was met with surprise from the Fortemps men—but Haurchefant noted, minimal from Riven. Which would make sense, she and Augustine had crossed paths before. The paladin continued.

“I was…made an offer to join, back when I was a Bloodsands gladiator in Ul’dah. Thancred Waters sought me out, having correctly deduced that I also carried the same gift as the Antecedent and Riven. I refused.”

“The Echo.” Artoirel breathed. “Ser Truehart! You…” Augustine’s bicolored gaze flicked to the older Fortemps son and he nodded.

“Yes. The Mothercrystal blessed me with its’ gift when I was younger. But as I grew older, I feared that I would be taken up for heresy by the Inquisition. I left Ishgard not only to expand my training in combat, but to try and find a way to control my power.” A rueful smile made Augustine’s lips twitch. “I had great success with the first…not so much with the second.”

“Life would be significantly easier if we could control the Echo.” Riven said, offering her own sardonic smile.

“Why did you refuse the Scions’ offer?” Edmont asked, frowning.

“I had learned the Broken Blade had begun their search for aspirants.” Augustine answered, naming his paladin order. “If I had joined the Scions, I would not have been able to return home and continue following my dream.”  He exhaled.

“I…had to choose.” His gaze lifted, casting around the room. “Something that I have…always felt guilty for.”

“Tis not guilt you should feel, Ser Augustine!” Haurchefant exclaimed. “If anything, the timing was wrong!”

“Indeed.” Alphinaud asserted. “Having you join us as a general man-at-arms, especially at this moment is a great boon. And…well, regarding the other matter…” The white-haired elezen glanced at Riven, who blinked.

“Other matter?” She repeated. Augustine looked at Alphinaud. The Sharlayan scholar nodded. The paladin inhaled, steeling himself, Haurchefant noted with surprise. Squaring his shoulders, he marched away from Alphinaud, heading to Riven’s seat at the breakfast table. The brunette watched him advance, confusion written all over her face.

“Augustine?” The paladin didn’t reply, stopping to stand next to her. “What…what are you—what are you doing?!” The last part of the sentence came out in a yelp as Augustine suddenly knelt before the chair. One hand went to grip the hilt of his sword, the other rested on his knee, and his head bowed.

“My lady Salder, Hydaelyn’s favored daughter and Warrior of Light. I offer to you my service freely.” One could hear a pin drop in the dining room. “I commit to your command my sword, my shield, and my life. I give into your keeping my fealty and service, which under the eyes of Halone, can only be released by your will, gross misconduct, or my death. Your enemies will become my enemies, your allies will become my allies. Allow me to be the bulwark between you and all harm.”

-----

Exhaustion rolled through Haurchefant. With a shaky sigh he pulled his sword free of the dummy, idly watching as straw and wood finally gave up the fight to stay assembled. Both tumbled down to sprawl across his feet, sad little splinters and mangled husks. Sweat rolled down his face, chest and back, and Haurchefant closed his eyes.

I…cannot…  Oh, the jealousy and rage that had suddenly overtaken him at that moment. The nerve of Augustine, the fucking gall for him to presume to take a place that he…could not have. Dimly Haurchefant could remember Riven’s protesting—

“Augustine—no! I’m not…worthy of such…”

His father had moved then, quickly pulling Riven away to talk with her. He’d shot Haurchefant a look for him to come as well—but Haurchefant had disobeyed, rooted to his chair, staring at Augustine. Artoirel had stepped in, and the trio had left the room briefly. Alphinaud had followed. Whatever they’d spoken of it must have convinced Riven, for minutes later she’d returned…

Walked over to the paladin, shy and twisting her hands—but then she’d squared her shoulders too, straightening her spine and looking at him…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

And all Haurchefant could do was watch, bile boiling in his stomach. Raging against the fact that he was already forsworn—to Halone, to Ishgard. Bite back the anger that it was he who had been supporting Riven from the very start, not this…prettyboy knight. He wanted to be the one swearing fealty to her, he wanted to be the one joining the Scions! He…

Was forsworn and he knew it. He could no more leave his post than a tiger could change its stripes. He’d laid in his path long ago, fighting tooth, nail, and claw to carve out a place for himself in his home, in his family, in his father’s heart.

Timing, Alphinaud had said. Haurchefant had to admit the teen was right, even though it was a bitter and hard pill to swallow. He had been perfectly placed to help Riven and the Scions…just as Augustine had been perfectly placed to become her sworn-knight. There was no better man to protect her from the prowling wolves of the nobility and church.

But it hurt. It hurt so much. And alone in the training room, Haurchefant had to admit why not even the thought of Riven’s safety being in good hands could ease the pain.

He liked her.

He loved her.

But it was never going to be.

--------

(a thank you to @saesama and @chysgoda for helping me figure out paladin oaths!)

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ Haze ⸸

DWC Nov 2024 Day 1: Haze

La Noscea.

There was a tinge of salt in the air, traveling over rolling seas of grass and the thunderous cliffs that carried the spray among the farmsteads nearby. It had taken her and her Retinue much of the morning to reach their destination, save for one body that had not been in current company, her Advisor, and for good reason.

She stood before the large gate of iron that separated her and the three from the large manor that loomed at the other side. The creeping ivy reaching much of the windows and old stonework reminded her of the Cress estate in Ishgard sans the bramble and flora that often thrived in colder climes.

The tall, fair-haired Elezen to her left casually placed his hands in his pockets before craning towards her ear, dropping unheard words into her mind while his red eyes fixated on the guards along the gate. A small hum emitted from the Cress woman swathed in crimson as she adjusted her hands primly to her front, a clear indication that she had heard Hex and heard him well.

Light golden eyes peered sidelong at Bruce and Marion to her right; for today, this would be her council. Best to show conduct where it is needed but best yet to establish trust. The heirloom in the depths of the pocket of her dress felt heavy – cold – as she finally walked towards the gates.

Masks were easy to wear for any occasion should one be able to wear them accordingly. This time, this meeting would be no different but perhaps the hardest she would ever have to don.

“Lady Vahalia Cress, requesting an audience with Lord Whitlock.” she addressed herself, attention pinging between both the two heavily armored men at the gate. Little to no conversation was made as the men pinned with the Whitlock insignia checked the four over for weapons and the like. Once passing the inspection, they were led through the heavy gate that moaned with a loud protest at their open.

Following through into the small courtyard and towards the towering building, the Whitlock manor, Vahalia ensured to take quick mind of her surroundings. Trees in abundance with the scattered few orange trees among the grounds, the myriad of windows in the estate itself, and the staff that passed them by or had gone about their daily tasks among the property.

Surely, the Whitlock’s had come into their own after the past two decades, the things she had read barely scratching the surface or doing the name justice as she now held curious as to what lay beneath the surface of the visuals. She had known Ophelia’s ships were likely obtained through mass wealth or inherited, but it was surprising to see that the family itself could very well rival what Vahalia herself had enmassed over the course of five years.

When the group was led through the main entranceway and into the foyer, the air around Vahalia shifted, she could feel the warmth from the House, a stark contrast the the cool breeze of the morning beyond. She had not cared to notice the decor within, the showcased manuscripts behind glass, decorated armors on display and the pride the Whitlock’s seemed to silently boast about with how the Limsan colors and tapestry were on display for all those to know where their roots now aligned.

No different than Vahalia’s clutched alignment to House Durendaire that went as far back as Baron Cress.

She held a humming in her ears and a haze of darkness veiled behind her eyes. Creature stirred quietly. A presence she knew that followed her everywhere, harboring a darkness none had ever seen save for a few.

Caution would have to be taken here among enemy grounds. She could not afford for the mask to falter now. Not now, not after coming this far.

Two large oak doors were splayed open leading into a large room, unmistakably a meeting room where at the end of the table where two male figures sat.

“The Lady Cress from Ishgard and her Retinue.” the steward announced when he stepped into the room and the greeted filed in to stand near the fireplace and large hearth that was quite a spectacular piece.

At the head-most position of the table, the dark-haired man rose and adjusted his jacket, “Quite the surprise.” he spoke, a deep timbre in his voice. His green eyes trailed each individual and eventually raked his gaze over the Lady in raven’s ebon. His hair was long but much of it neatly tied back from his face and brow in arrangements of braids and silver rivets. His height and stature gave away to him certainly being Hyur but of Highlander blood, the one seated next to him was no different in that regard as he too eventually stood, coming to a few ilms shorter than the Gentleman at the head of the table.

“Vahalia.” she finally spoke, releasing the tension she held tightly in the back of her jaw, a delicate hand swayed out to introduce others with her, “Hex, Bruce, and Marion – all in service to the Cress name.”

“Kalem Whitlock. This is my brother Abel.” he introduced them and then waved a hand towards the well-polished table, “Pray.” the deep voice came again, “Join us. We’ve just finished brunch but surely you wouldn’t be opposed to beverages?”

A small shake of Vahalia’s head came as she glided towards an open chair and took a seat to the right of Kalem followed by her entourage, “Tea, if available.” she smiled.

With a rise of his brows and a flick of his fingers towards the Steward, Kalem finally drew a hand along his jacket and angled to sit once more followed by Abel.

“Tis not often we have visitors Lady Cress, though not entirely out of the norm, may I ask why you’ve come this far to see me; to see us?”

The door to the room closed when the steward left, her hands drawing to her lap, “A touch of curiosity. However, you and I are both keenly aware of the details that surround my sister’s death. A subject there is no easy way to tip-toe around and I have come on behalf of a possible truce.”

“A truce?” Kalem chuckled dryly as he sat back in his chair, “I had thought you the type to seek blood for the misgivings if rumors are anything to go by.”

“Perhaps.” Vahalia hummed and she looked between Abel and Kalem, “I’ve settled with the error I have made and accepted the consequences of it. My ire towards your sister wasn’t something I would consider an ire I share with your family directly, it was a personal issue between her and me that had ultimately caused her her life.”

“ – And her ships.” Kalem motioned to Vahalia with his two forefingers.

“It’s business. Her line of work; she should have known that.”

“And perhaps better should she have stayed her hand from greedily taking as she often did. You’ve cost the Whitlock name a great deal of trouble as she was intended to be married. Since her death, all plans regarding such have become null. Without another Whitlock daughter to offer and two of the three sons already married, you’ve left us without a bargaining chip.”

“Thus taking mine.” Vahalia spitefully quipped back.

“Apologies for that, it was a necessary step that was needed to ensure you were aware of the loss we’ve endured. So now, we find ourselves on similar grounds, Lady Cress.” Kalem expelled a breath as he leaned forward, folding his hands along the table, leveling with her the best he could, “So what would you have, revenge? Or have you come all this way to offer an apology?”

“Neither.” her voice answered, leveled and silken as she offered a touch of a smirk from the corner of her lips, dimple coming to rest just so into her cheek as it often had, “I must thank you. While you’ve been a thorn in my side and stealing an asset from me, I have realized that this is politics and while my sister and I shared blood, you’ve done me a great service.”

A thick brow of Kalem’s rose, seemingly surprised by Vahalia’s words. Even Marion further down the table let out a barely audible gasp, “A great service, in what sense?” Kalem asked. It was easy to see the man, behind his eyes, was greedily clawing at his curiosity. A man of pomp and flare, akin to enjoying praise.

“Ridding me of any possible competition within my Household. With there having been only two of us, it was only a matter of time before the position was wrestled from me.”

“Is that what you fear?” Kalem asked carefully.

“No. I fear the name falling into ruin again by those less capable. I only wish for my blood to carry on and for those after me to carry the legacy – none of which I feel Valeria was capable of.” Vahalia answered, the weight of the heirloom in her pocket suddenly feeling like a brick.

“Not much of a worry now, correct? As I hear, you’ve been married and have two children. Seems you’ve done well for yourself.”

“Divorced.” she corrected Kalem, making eye contacted with him as she answered, prodding to see how much he might have known of her initially, “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“And your children?”

The bells in the distance bayed harking forth indication of the 12th hour, the far-off tolling an easy break to gather her thoughts, “Bastards born after my Divorce. Neither of which I have any plans for in the future, I require strong heirs to carry what I leave behind.”

“I see.” Kalem hummed as his attention flitted to the door briefly when the Steward returned with a large trolley, working his way around the table to set teacups and kettles proper for the company, “So you cling to the proper ways I suspect, of inheritance and the pattern which is expected of Houses like ours?”

“Yes. If I recall…” she smirked gently again, as she could feel Kalem’s eyes on her when she went about dressing her tea and stirring the contents with barely a sound from the spoon, “ – there was a time your father and mine had plans for us. A pity we never were able to meet during those conversations or following, I wonder if perhaps life might have looked a little different for us both.”

Settling her spoon down along the saucer, Vahalia’s golden eyes cut back to Kalem, a sharp vampish stare bore into him as emerald greens met hers in turn with politeness, “Ah! Yes.” Kalem replied, “It seems like that was forever ago when I was told the news. A true pity, had I of known you were as beautiful now as was claimed I might have insisted my father send me promptly to meet you.”

A low chuckle left Vahalia and she shook her head, “A short-lived plan I’m afraid. It was not long after I was sent out on my apprenticeship. On behalf of my father and his poor planning, I do….apologize.”

Kalem bowed his head with respect, “ Decades ago, my dear. Fret not. However, I will say that you’ve surprised me by coming here after everything that has transpired. I half expected body parts to start arriving in the post.” Abel beside Kalem snorted into the rim of his cup at that.

“Not much my style.” Vahalia smiled over her rim towards Kalem. A truth. A lie. A certain unknown, “As I said…I would like a truce. Too much blood has been spilled that neither of our Houses seems they can afford.”

“Certainly not your own.” Abel chortled into his cup once more. Silently Vahalia’s gaze drifted to the second youngest brother. The Third, seemingly nowhere in sight.

“Correct you are.” She smiled eerily.

Kalem stood as he looked upon the table and the guests gathered, “I believe we should hold a council over this and come to the conversation with terms. There have been deeds done that cannot be reversed and we should do our best to remedy our transgressions to be able to move forward.” he motioned an arm toward Vahalia, “Would you like me to show you the grounds? I would like to speak more.”

Surprised, Vahalia lowered her cup and gingerly her hand lifted to Kalem’s arm, allowing herself to stand, “Surely the Lady of the House would be far better company.” she insisted.

“The Lady of the House has been gone for quite some time.” Kalem added as he rounded the chairs and led Vahalia towards the threshold, “Many years. I shall tell you about her while we walk.”

Vahalia’s lips rested away from the smile she had been holding and when her hand curled more firmly along Kalem’s arm, she glanced over her shoulder with a silent gaze toward Hex and Bruce, the pair watching her intently while Marion supped from her cup to keep her surprise and edge under control.

For the DWC by: @daily-writing-challenge