#rage of bahamut twin heads

[highassho]

im telling yall: they're soulmates... THEY'RE SOULMATES. U LITERALLY CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE FJDKJKDFJ

yk i love it when favaro and kaisar take missions with just the two of them like it's always ends up being landmine of favakai moments that i would think about a lot for a while

[superthatguy62]

Stranger of Paradise: DiFFereNT Future ending spectulation

The short of it: Stranger of Paradise is a Dissidia sequel, but not for the reasons you think (or maybe you do).

As a disclaimer, all of my current knowledge comes from cutscenes and missives uploaded to the internet. I am currently turning into the 6th fiend out of rage and despair as I try to go about farming Dragon Treasures in the first DLC. While the aforementioned are readily viewable, the mission descriptions/recaps for the last two missions are not available to me. Maybe they have info that blows this whole theory wide open, maybe they have nothing of note. If they have something worth mentioning, I'll update this.

Also, if you're reading this theory about Post-Game DLCs, then you probably know the base story of Stranger of Paradise.

So anyway: Recap Time!

PART !: A Twin-Tailed Ending

The third DLC for Stranger of Paradise focuses on Jack's former boss Nil, whose attempts to get revenge on those wily Strangers via sending a Lufenian Death Machine (a WarMech, even) has failed. Nil staged an uprising, plunging Lufenia Central into chaos in order to obtain two crystals: A Dimensional Crystal Matrix (like the one Jack hijacked at the end of the game, but with the power to warp space-time i.e. connect to the Rift and summon or erase beings from other worlds) and another crystal, used to generate manikins: Living crystal that morphs into the shape of people, as previously seen in... Dissidia Final Fantasy.

Huh.

This causes distress for a Moogle that is watching her descent. This Moogle has been acting behind the scenes, such as sending the Dragonking Bahamut to Jack's world and convincing a Tonberry to change its name to Cid. Nil's plans, however, force it to take a more active role. It goes to Chaos & Friends, asking for their help before taking them to Lufenia for the final battle.

But then, things get complicated.

At some point, the Moogle's slinking around got noticed by the Emperor of Palamecia, who is not from Jack's world. In fact, this Emperor didn't even come from his own world: He is from a land of conflict, where two gods wage war against each other through their champions. The Emperor, learning of the powers Lufenia holds, decides to live up to his name and immediately begins scheming for a way to take that power and use it to conquer everything. He escapes before Jack can fully stop him. Then Jack confronts Nil and, through a wacky final battle involving Omega and manikins of Omega, kills her.

Two outcomes occur.

In the first, Nil drops the manikin crystal (presumably, the dimensional matrix is also there too), with Jack saying that they don't need 'Lufenian junk'. The Moogle makes one last bid to get Jack to take the crystal, pointing out that he and his friends would have lived on in legend in the future that awaited them; But now, they head toward a future of their own making: One where no one learns of their struggle or where they'll only exist in legend. But for Jack and his friends, if it means that the people of Cornelia will have power over their own fate, then the sacrifice will be worth it. The Moogle sends them back.

In the second, the Emperor of Palamecia, waiting for both sides to tire out, shows up right after Nil dies and attempts to take both crystals. Jack has one last battle before defeating the Emperor, narrowly preventing him from escaping. During the fight, Jack absorbs the Lufenian Crystals, giving him power over Manikins (theoretically giving him the power to create such life) and the Dimensional Matrix (Allowing him to create portals, as he does to send the now powerless Emperor... elsewhere). The Moogle tells Jack that he must now become the God of Discord, taking his place opposite of the soon-to-arrive God of Harmony: The Warrior of Light. Together, they shall become the pillars of a new world.

PART 2: Dissidia NT (and Opera Omnia too, I guess)

Dissidia Final Fantasy for the arcade (not to be confused with Dissidia Final Fantasy for the PSP) is the sequel/soft-reboot to the original Dissidia duology. While originally lacking in plot, the game eventually received an update titled "Battle of the Gods" which introduced two new gods in order to replace the other two who died at the end of the previous game: Materia and Spiritus.

Guess what they're the gods of!

God Struggle (Valiant Strike, according to supposed unused files for the PS4 version) was a faction-based versus mode: You pick a side and fight battles for that side. Any story content was seemingly provided in the opening cutscene and is in Japanese, so...

Dissidia Arcade eventually got a "port" known as Dissidia NT for PS4 and later PC. This iteration boasted a more complete story mode (albeit not as meaty as PSP games) that acted as more of a proper introduction to the new gods: At the end of the previous game, Chaos' death marked an imbalance that resulted in World B being destined to sink into the Void. However, World B has somehow survived its destruction and is now a world that persists on battle energy; without such energy, it will once again fall into the Void. The world is ruled over by Materia and Spiritus, who are manifestations of Cosmos and Chaos' wills or consciousnesses or what have you(1). Complicating matters is that Materia and Spiritus don't have much knowledge of each other and they, moreso Materia, wish to see the other routed. Not helping further are the shiny wyrms that keep showing up and draining the world of its energy, with each god suspecting the other. In the end, it was Shinryu; Who previously had a nice gig going where he had an endless font of power (more on that later) and decided to try something similar but more direct on the World of Conflict. The gods are forced to play nice and, together, everyone drives back Shinryu. The Champions then leave, but leave behind copies of themselves for the Gods to use to wage war on each other with so that the world can be sustained.

Meanwhile Opera Omnia... has some inconsistencies. The biggest is the implication that all of the characters are, in fact, the same characters from their respective games rather than clones/manikins/what have you like the ending of NT suggested. It is also a much more complicated game and I am admittedly not the guy to ask about it (Katkeyboardmastah has an impressive writeup of the cosmology of FF1, DFF and Stranger of Paradise, including a section about the inconsistencies between OO and NT. Definitely give it a look.), but the key aspect is that most references to the other games that OO makes are to the original Dissidia and its prequel. To my knowledge, NT is not directly referenced, meaning that it may be an alternate continuity or something weird in terms of how they interact plotwise.

That said, Opera Omnia must be mentioned due to a plot point that began cropping up towards the end of Act 2: The possibility of the Warrior of Light and Garland becoming the new gods of Harmony and Discord respectively. The game gets very close to cashing in that plotline several times, but it never truly occurs (though in Act 4, they do fill-in for Materia and Spiritus, who turn themselves to crystal to support the world from collapsing. They return in the final chapter). The closest they come to fulfilling the Moogle's words is in Act 3, before Materia and Spiritus are written out, although they were losing favor with the world itself by that point. Even then, WoL and Garland were not actively looking over the world.

To further justify my emphasis on NT over Opera Omnia, Nomura pointed out in an interview that the title "DIFFERENT FUTURE" contained the letters "DFF" and "NT".

――おお！　“DIFFERENT FUTURE”では、別の結末が描かれたりするのでしょうか!? 野村さあ、どうでしょう（笑）。じつは、このタイトルには“DFF”と“NT”の文字も含んでいます。ただ、このミッションのボスは誰にも予想できないと思いますが（笑）

(1): Interestingly, Bahamut in SoP explains that his soul drifted through the "space between dimensions" (implicitly, the Interdimensional Rift) until he was summoned. The could explain how Cosmos and Chaos' wills survived and turned into Materia and Spiritus. Spiritus himself claims he was born of "dimensional fragments".

Part 3: Chains of the Past

In Stranger of Paradise, most of the references to Dissidia are thematic or kept ambiguous. The 'collaborator' who gives the Lufenians their Dimensional Matrixes asks that the energy from resetting the world is funneled back to them. This is pretty much Shinryu's M.O. in Dissidia: While the pact made with Cid, Cosmos, Chaos and Garland was ostensibly to power up Chaos enough for them to return to their world, Shinryu had a side hustle where he siphoned memories and power from the warriors through the process of "purification". Another is the focus on Lufenians and memories, as the reports in Dissidia demonstrated the Lufenians' rituals to transfer memories between bodies and turned it into a major plot point. A third is that Lufenia was at war: The reports in Dissidia make mention of "the state"/"homeland" who was at war with "the neighboring state", which had summons and Omega, hence the creation of Chaos; Neon's story in the Ancients' Tower and one of the Lufenian Logs shows that Lufenia was once at war with Cornelia.

Different Future throws all caution to wind. The Emperor is the obvious case, but the Moogle also tells the group of the events of Dissidia NT. Interestingly, the Moogle claims that there was indeed a man named Garland... but that Garland was not Jack.

And speaking of...

Part 3.5: The Moogle's Plan

The "One Spirit's Missives" reveal that the Moogle is actually a spirit born from Cosmos' will. Said will longs for a stable future, and so the moogle sets off to ensure that it comes to pass. However, the world of conflict needs gods of both Harmony and Discord in order to sustain itself. The missives explain the plot that the Moogle has been enacting in order to turn Jack Garland and the Warrior of Light into the two new gods of conflict who will lead the world into the future it seeks to return to. The first major half of the plan lies in Bahamut, a dragon that was once worshipped as a god. Just as Shinryu elevated Cosmos, Chaos and Cid to godhood, Bahamut does similar for Jack and the Warriors of Light through his boons. The second half relies upon the powers that Lufenia holds - and that Jack takes them for himself. And as World B subsists through battle energy, Jack and the Warrior of Light's battles will sustain the world, making them the two pillars.

Part 4: An Undocumented Conflict

Until we get a sequel or a new Dissidia game, we will not have a clear answer as to what the Moogle is referring to in the ending. However, looking at the Moogle's missives, we learn a few things:

We learn that it is time traveling or at the very least knows the future and is working to ensure that the future it came from (Dissidia NT) is to happen

We learn that Jack's dimension is key to the World B's future/continued existence. So much so, that it has to intervene when Nil tries to erase it.

We learn that it was formed from Cosmos' will.

Based on one of the missives mentioning "two departed gods", it is likely post-Dissidia + 012 at least. Either that or Materia and Spiritus "depart" at some point in the future.

Relatedly, it seeks new gods of conflict to ensure its future and chose to guide Jack Garland and his Warrior of Light towards becoming them.

Jack's fate suggests that he would live on, if not physically than his name going down in history, whereas in the other timeline, Jack and his allies go down as monsters, with no one knowing of their struggle.

From these, there are roughly three points this can refer to:

Theory A. Post-NT: Something happens to Materia and Spiritus and Mog shanghais Jack and his WoL into being the new gods.

Theory B. Opera Omnia - The DLC ties in to the events of Opera Omnia

Theory C. The DLC ties is an interquel between 012 and NT.

I believe that it is theory C. Why?

Theory A: Not impossible. If SE wanted to reboot Dissidia again, they could invent a reason for Materia and Spiritus to vanish. However, the Moogle specifically speaks of a future. This isn't a hard point against it, but it is something to consider.

Theory B: At this point, Opera Omnia has concluded its story and none of the scenarios truly match what is described by the missives.

At the end of act II, Materia and Spiritus lose control of the world and the Warrior of Light and Garland do battle in the old world until the Warrior of Light is summoned back by the rest of the party (Garland wanting to reshape it into a world of conflict, WoL trying to keep Garland). However, Materia's Act 2 interlude states that it was the crystal's wish (long story: In OO there is a crystal that governs wishes and acts independently of the gods; In fact, it was the crystal, sensing the warriors' pleas for rest that demanded that the gods create the World of Respite) that governed the world rather than the gods.

At the end of Act II, the Warrior of Light and Garland almost go through with it due to Materia and Spiritus being too weakened to pull the world back from the brink. However, as Materia and Spiritus need only exist to keep the world stable, they have Enna Kros turn them into crystal statues, sealed away but preventing the world from collapsing. However, Enna also clues the party in that they could be saved, leading into Act IV.

Opera Omnia ended service during Act IV. Is it possible that, had the game went on, WoL and Garland would fully become the new gods? Perhaps. But by the end of the game, Materia and Spiritus regain their status as gods.

Theory C: And now for the titular speculation.

At the end of Dissidia Final Fantasy, Chaos dies and the world becomes unstable. While Cosmos is revealed to have revived, she alone cannot sustain it. Thus, World B fades from existence...

...Until Cosmos and Chaos' wills, which persisted nonetheless reform into Materia and Spiritus.

At the beginning of NT's story, the narration says:

"The strife ended, the world was to fade from existence. And yet... An arcane power acted upon it, bestowing these remains with purpose once more."

Not much focus is given to explaining World B's continued existence, which is probably just as well since the original had little explanation too.

The moogle's missives imply that its world is in its twilight.

The worlds are ever changing and the old gives way to the new. As one world waxes my own wanes becoming a mere shadow of its former self. There is a future for me, but first I must ensure that it comes to pass.

Which makes it unlikely that it happens after NT, where the world is saved and the gods can build it back up through their battles.

As for why it chose Jack's world instead of OG FF1? I'm not entirely sure. However, WoL and Garland usually act as right-hand men of the gods during the conflicts. Perhaps it could not chose the originals for whatever reason, so it picked a world that was on a similar path and began influencing things further.

What happened to them and how Materia and Spiritus inherited the world is also a mystery, although Jack is a man who hates gods and masterminded a complicated scheme to free Cornelia from Lufenia's control. I'm just saying if there's anybody who could probably find a way to escape godhood as soon as he could, Jack would probably be that person.

Last but not least, as pointed out earlier, it is very likely that this DLC is meant to tie in with Dissidia NT in some fashion, given the title. However, in-game this largely amounts to the Emperor using his moves from that game and the moogle mentioning its events. But considering how the missives seem to point to that period between Dissidia and NT where the world was destined to be destroyed...

(I'll admit, I thought I had stronger evidence for this, but a combination of some of my points being less helpful than I thought and losing track of the plot meant that I had to throw some of it out).

I will admit the possibility of a Theory D, that World B is the end result of the Stranger of Paradise timeline, but the way the missives speak implies that is not the case. The Moogle speaks as if it were acting in place of Cosmos and Chaos (or Materia and Spiritus, maybe). It even calls the SoP world a "godless world", which is why it had to send Bahamut there.

Conclusion: [Insert Fancy Latin Title Here]

Stranger of Paradise's ending certainly seems like the set up to a future Dissidia game, but will we see a true resolution? Maybe we will and it will be an intequel. Maybe we will and it will be a sequel. Maybe it'll completely ignore Stranger of Paradise. It may even confirm that Jack and Dissidia Garland are indeed the same guy beyond both of them being "Garland", although I am begging SE not to do this and will beg even harder after the time of this writing, whenever I get around to rewriting said begging to be more correct/expanded upon.

If nothing else: It's an interesting premise for a fanfic: a bunch of warriors summoned to fight for a Warrior who has no idea of the true nature of his mission and Chaos, who does not even want to be a god.

"You either die a villain or live long enough to forcibly become a deity." - Jack Garland (not really)

"Bullshit" - Jack Garland (really)

[watercups]

twitter log 10: bahagene + bahasoul

[wispofwillow]

The Final Coil of Bahamut

Setting/Timing: Final Coil of Bahamut, following the events of A Realm Reborn for Wisp (and was the first experience of Coils for Wisp and Onawa)

Note: This snippet features members of the Riskbreakers Free Company: Onawa Rider, Chained Dawn, and Akhutai Urit (featured with their permission, which does NOT mean that I did not mess up their characterization), as those were the characters who did indeed run Coils of Bahamut with me the first time. (Likely also got some other details wrong and have some things messy, so will need to go back and fix later)

Music:  From the Ashes - Masayoshi Soken Loyal - ODESZA Bahamut Prime’s Theme/Answers - Nobuo Uematsu

____

Wisp stood staring up at the great bulk of Bahamut’s head, at its masses of sinew and straggling, tattered ends of flesh, and felt another shudder of nausea roll through them. The platform still simmered with the afterglow of the blows Bahamut had thrown against them, deflected by the combined determination of the twins. Wisp could feel Alisae and Alphinaud beside them, braced against whatever might come next. 

    But what would come next was not down to the twins, they knew. Wisp dragged their eyes from the monstrous sight of Bahamut, half-rotted, half-new, kept alive by the machinery of the Allagans and the endless pain of countless lives, refocusing on their companions. They had turned, as well, to look to one another, Akhutai standing tall and still, unbowed by all that had just occurred, blue-grey eyes calm, scaled tail as steady and still as the rest of him. Onawa too, stood firm, long Viera ears and stance both straight and tall, lance held steady in her grip, though her face looked paler in this light, lines of strain that had not been there standing out starkly around the scars that crossed their eyelid and skipped over one eye and down one cheek. But then, Wisp knew Onawa better than they did Akhutai, who, together with Chained Dawn, had stepped forward out of the Free Company when they had heard of the request Alisae had made. Whatever Akhutai felt and thought, they might not see it.

Akhutai turned to Onawa, who nodded, mouth set in a grim line, and then to Wisp. They nodded, too, twisting their grip on their staff, and waited until he had turned away to shut their eyes just for a moment, swallowing hard against that roiling nausea as their ears lay flat back against their head for a moment, tail twitching. Ready. Or as ready as they could be…

The air swirled around them, thick with aether laced with the fear, the pain, the hate of this place that hooked into their skin, into their guts, and pulled, dredging images of the past layers of this wreckage to the surface and keeping them firmly, permanently, repeating in the back of their mind. A fresh wave of fierce, angry grief rocked them at the thought of what had been wrought here - of the horror of the ranks upon ranks of imprisoned dragons, trapped - deliberately, purposefully - in an endless pain, a despair without limits. How could anyone do this? She had thought, and did again now. It was no wonder Bahamut’s rage rode the very air of this place. It was no wonder he had seized what opportunity he could and twisted it to himself. 

No wonder, no - but no easier, for all that, to see that twisted opportunity made reality in the form of Louisoix Leveilleur’s shade. No easier to learn, at last, to watch the full knowledge of what he had become - of what Wisp had begun to suspect had become of him - reflected in the faces of the grandchildren who so clearly had loved him. Or to throw themselves against that shade as it rose from ashes into a screaming bird of flame, shrieking its rebirthed torment on them in a hail of fire. Wisp had thought themselves - had thought them all - spent, then, as the final flames had sunk again into shadow, afterimages burned against their eyelids where they knelt at the edge of the platform that had contained them all, fur singed, raw. But, their work had not been done. Chained Dawn had knelt briefly by her, then, the strength of her a steadying force, offering a salve for the burns, as Akhutai did the same for Onawa. Esuna could serve them well, but by this time the spell flared in fits in spurts in Wisp’s hands, offering relief but leaving traces of their injuries behind. “You alright to go on?” Chained Dawn had asked, voice pitched quiet. As though there were a choice in it. And there was, Wisp realized looking up to meet their companion’s steady gaze, taking in Onawa standing and stretching out sore muscles behind, Akhutai stepping back, crossing his arms as he nodded at something Onawa had said. They would, and could, carry on themselves, whether Wisp could stand with them or no, and see Bahamut’s continued reincarnation to an end. Wisp had dropped their gaze from Chained Dawn’s calm concern for a moment, feeling the weariness and the ache of their own stumbling pace this far spreading through them. But when they had looked up, Onawa had met their eyes over Chained Dawn’s shoulder, her head tilted, and Wisp had seen resolve in her. And, thinking of Onawa, and then of the twins, waiting to hear of what, now, had become of their grandfather - or what remained of him, Wisp had nodded, and accepted the brief smile and the hand up that Chained Dawn had offered them.

Thinking of the twins again, now, Wisp looked to each, and found Alisae and Alphinaud looking back, that same determination that had carried them this far showing again in the intent way they watched Wisp. Feeling again the awe at their fortitude, the quick bite of sadness at the need for it, Wisp reached out to briefly grip Alisae’s arm, nodded once to Alphinaud, and stepped forward to join Akhutai and Onawa at the mechanism that would carry them this last step. 

As Akhutai reached for the screens before them, Wisp lifted their face again to the wreck that was Bahamut. No tears rose in them now, but those they had cried earlier, in the hall of dragons, and again in the wake of Louisoix’s fresh loss, had left trails of salt-stiffened skin and fur down their face, left unattended as Chained Dawn had offered a hand to help them up, or Onawa had bumped a shoulder against their arm, silent encouragement to carry forward. All the while, as they had summoned stiff smiles or determined nods for the Leveilleur twins, Onawa and Wisp had traded grim glances, Wisp glimpsing moments of the same horror at the back of her eyes, the same anger in the fierceness with which she carried her lance, the forceful precision with which she struck true at each new opponent. And Akhutai and Chained Dawn had strode ahead, looking back with a kind of remote, distant understanding that made Wisp think they had guessed, or somehow knew, what might await them here. And at each new obstacle they had struck with a swift ease that belied the power of their blows, felling twisted creatures and relics of Allagan technology alike with an effortlessness that left Wisp, stumbling behind, uncast spells at the ready, in a breathless awe. And when Chained Dawn had waved her farewell, called away in an urgent linkpearl message to another mission, Akhutai had continued on, ready to lead them, Onawa and Wisp, and the determined twins in their midst.

They felt Onawa now at their shoulder, and the tightness in their chest eased just a moment, just a bit, at the reminder they were not here alone. 

The light took them, then, and they felt their perspective shift, a familiar vertigo of transport magics swooping through them, the flash of it blinding them.

When their vision cleared, the three of them stood alone in the midst of a vast ring whose edges bled into the swirling mass of red that had become the sky. And Bahamut - or whatever remnant this heart of Bahamut was - hovered above them, wings beating at the air with a force they could feel vibrate through their teeth, red, furious eyes fixed on them all. 

Wisp gripped their cane tighter, shifting their stance to face the vast shadow of dragon whose wings seemed to span the width of the platform below them, and willed their speeding heart lower, their breathing slower as they lifted their face to meet that gaze full on through the flimsy protection of their carved mask. On either side of them, Onawa and Akhutai stepped forward, as well, sinking into their own battle stances, lance at the ready on one side, axe on the other. 

Bahamut beat his wings once, twice, hitting against the air hard enough to send gusts of air skirling through their hair, their clothing, then tipped his head back and roared. The sound echoed, reverberating back through the air around them, and Wisp felt the power, the anguish twisting to anger, to hate pulse through air and aether both. 

 Akhutai stepped forward, then, undaunted, as the last of the sound still shivered in Wisp’s bones, and Wisp could’ve sworn they heard him say, “This should be fun,” as he hefted his axe and, without hesitation, aimed an initial blow at one of Bahamut’s dangling legs. The blow connected, scraping the scales of Bahamut’s natural armor with a metallic hissss. Bahamut roared again, attention honing in on Akhutai, and the great creature spun, aiming the edge of a wing toward Akhutai’s head. Akhutai sidestepped neatly, turning the motion into a shift of position, drawing Bahamut back with him as he swung Bahamut away from Onawa and Wisp, back toward one edge of the platform. Onawa and Wisp used the opportunity he had created to duck under Bahamut’s wing, its heavy beats against the air audible now as he dropped to face Akhutai, and shift around behind him, Wisp laying down a quick layered dome of shielding as they ran, while Onawa twisted to deliver a first precise blow of her spear aimed at one of those great wings. Wisp saw Bahamut swiped a heavy set of claws towards Akhutai, who deflected the jarring blow with the shaft of his axe, one corner of his mouth lifting - whether in a smirk or a growl Wisp could not tell before it was gone again, Akhutai stepping back and then launching forward again, axe swung high above his head in a blur of an arc that Wisp could feel land. Bahamut hissed, flinching back, and Onawa used the opportunity to draw her lance down his back in a long, slashing arc that bit past his scale into skin.

Wisp took in a breath, focusing their attention away from their companions, who needed none of their healing in this moment, and back to Bahamut himself. They let the familiar flow of aether rise through them, heard an answering call in stone, and sent a first wave of rock bursting toward Bahamut’s heart. It broke against his armored hide, shards skittering away down his side and wings, and Wisp sent another, and another, aiming first at his side again, then at the wing closest them. At the edge of their vision Onawa called on the strength of the dragoon, scaled coils rising in a vision of red around her, and thrust her lance again, weaving in and out of the reach of Bahamut’s beating wings. Akhutai struck at the same time as Onawa, strength roiling in almost visible waves from him as his axe landed another true hit, biting deep into the arm of the clawed hand Bahamut had swiped toward him again.

The dragon - or his shade, whatever this warping, shadowed creature was - beat his wings once, hard, shoving himself back away from Akhutai’s next blow, and roared again. It hit fast, hard - a physical wave of force that staggered Wisp - and the other’s too, Wisp saw as they used their cane to steady themselves and ran forward once more. Seeing Onawa since, feeling the sting of the blow in their own flesh, Wisp took another breath and let the calming flow of healing magic, always scented somehow so faintly of pine, roll up through their veins and out through their palms, a regenerative spell sent out in an answering wave to Bahamut’s blast of force. 

They felt something shift. When Wisp lifted their face, tail twitching, Bahamut had twisted his head around to fix his gaze on them. The moment where their eyes met his - the wild anger there dizzying - was instant, but felt stretched into eternity across a heartbeat, two. Then Bahamut lifted his face toward the ceiling - sky? - and released a screeching call. Wisp saw the flare of fire forming, a spark to a flame bursting outward, set directly above them, dropped their head, and ran, hard. The air behind them flared with sudden heat. Faster. They pumped their arms faster, each footfall launching them a springing step forward, breath coming wildly

Whoosh. Flames dropped down and then out, clawing after them. And they hadn’t been fast enough. Fire ate up the back of their feathered robe skirt, their tail, their legs, washing out along their arms as they threw themselves a final step. Then, it stopped. Wisp stumbled, the pain of attack rising, and breathed a quick prayer to themselves, calling another spell up to their fingertips. They lifted their head as the magic washed up to check for Onawa and Akhutai, released another breath to see them unharmed, Akhutai in the midst of another blow of his axe to draw Bahamut’s attention fully back to him.

Then the heat flared above them again.

Wisp dove, but far too late.

The full force of the flame dropped on them, heat and pressure driving them into the ground, drawing knives of pain up their legs,their back, their shoulders. A weak involuntary cry escaped them as they dropped, cane falling from their fingers, loosed in a spasm of pain, and shade took their vision as their head hit the ground. In the last moment a flare of light burst behind their vision, and they felt the crystal always with them resonate - a last, protective hand of Hydaelyn cupping around them, softening their fall from the world.

           — 

Hsss

The hiss became a shrieking cry, piercing enough to cut into the haze of pain that engulfed them. Wisp forced their eyes open a crack.

Onawa. Akhutai…

They could see nothing at first, just the indistinct blue glow of the platform, then the blur of crackling red flame circling its edge. A gust of wind blew over them, stinging in the burns along their arms and back. Wisp stirred, managing to lift their head enough to see up. And up, and up, as Bahamut spiraled up and away from them, trickles of blood scattering from his wings as he lifted. Onawa and Akhutai stood, still tall, firm - unharmed - watching him rise. In a last gust of air, Bahamut disappeared.

Done…?

Another roar echoed through the chamber, shaking the very structure of the space. Not done.

Bahamut screamed - closer this time, and at the very edge of their vision Wisp saw him drop to hover at the edge of the ring, just in time to see him fix his eyes on Onawa. 

Onawa no! Wisp tried to shout it, but their voice wouldn’t obey, their fingers that scrabbled uselessly beside them would not find their cane, rolled now just beyond their reach. 

Bahamut dove.

No.

His claws raked for Onawa’s shoulders, the force of the pressure he sent before him knocking her from her feet as she tried to twist to aim her lance up into his passing wing. Wisp saw her drop to her knees, then, with a sigh of breath, she dropped to the ground, lance clattering down beside hher.

No, Onawa, no, no. 

Wisp tried to summon their strength, to grasp at the healing magic, but they couldn’t reach the aether around them without the channel of their cane. Not Onawa, please. The cane lay just beyond their reach, and Wisp tried to inch along the floor, to stretch just that much further, but their body wouldn’t obey them - they pushed up to one elbow but their arm gave out beneath them. Tears gathered at the edges of their eyes and fell unchecked as the pain swam up through them again. 

They couldn’t reach the aether of the world around them without their cane, but they still had their own aether. Wisp fixed their eyes on Onawa, where their friend lay, too far from them, face turned away, blood trickling from the slice to her shoulder, and turned their attention inward, E-Sumi-Yan’s calm-voiced warnings sounding ignored at the back of their mind ignored, and reached for the core of aether at their own heart. Slowly they felt the weave of it come loose - now just to grasp

Pain roared through them, fire in their limbs, their heart, their nerves, and everything cut out, Onawa lost to their vision.

     —

A piercing shriek cut the air. Wisp’s eyes jerked open, mind swimming hazily back to consciousness through the heavy waves of pain still radiating up their tail, their legs, their back. Onawa? Akhutai? But Onawa lay where Wisp had seen her, tall form just visible across the platform, back to them. But what…

The shriek came again, closer this time, and one ear swivelled almost automatically to catch the sound. Was it just their imagination, their desire for relief, or did one of Onawa’s long ears twitch, too? A shadow streaked by just above them -  the heavy, scaled tail of some draconic creature swinging overhead. Sluggish mind frantic now, Wisp dragged one knee up toward their chest - so, so, slowly - and, gritting their teeth against the scathing burns, fang piercing their bottom lip unheeded, they pushed until they could get an elbow beneath them, just enough so that they could lift their head and turn it. In another second, their arm shuddered and gave way beneath them, dropping them to the ground again. But it was enough.

Enough for them to see, as if through a veil, the great muscular form of a draconian creature slump forward and fall, Akhutai’s axe buried between the horns on its head. As it fell a cry more feel than sound echoed - a last lament of pent up rage and pain trapped and amplified by the Allagans for years on years on years - and Wisp felt tears spring to their eyes. This place…

Akhutai just had time to free his axe and stand back, his own scaled tail moving with some emotion or agitation, before another creature came barreling over the edge of the platform, teeth bared as it made for Akhutai. With no change in his settled expression, Akhutai turned to face the new onslaught, back to Wisp, twisted to avoid one set of raking claws, and, as the creature reared back, severed the creature’s neck. Another wave of burning rage and sorrow washed through the air. Wisp just saw Akhutai step back, shoulders down, head bowed before their own eyes slid shut against the echo of pain that the wave called up from their own body. 

Enough.

The single word came from everywhere and nowhere, Bahamut’s voice ringing through Wisp’s head loud enough to rattle their teeth.

We have played this game long enough. 

Heat rocked the air, sucking the moisture from it in an instant. Wisp gasped, and opened their eyes to a nightmare. Flames wrapped the platform, spiraling up and up into nothingness. And above them, Bahamut hovered, wings stretched outward, lightning flaring, cracking and snapping as it struck him and struck out from him. Across the platform Onawa stirred again, pushing herself to her elbows to look up, as well. 

Bahamut opened his arms, head tipped back as the lightning gathered, but his eyes remained fixed on one spot. On Akhutai, a dark silhouetted against the backdrop of fire, standing tall but, against the spinning tower of flame, still a single, lone figure.

No. The single word was all that could register in Wisp’s mind. They twisted hand seeking their cane. They had to get up. They had to…

There, a slight shadow on the ground through the blinding afterglow of the fire. Wisp reached, and the world flared bright. Light erupted from Bahamut’s chest, knocking Wisp flat, staff clattering away across the floor. Onawa fell, too, pressed to the ground by the pressure slammed out from the dragon’s gathering spell.

No.

Wisp forced their head up, vision blurry through the mess of pain- and panic-wrought tears.

Against the fire, Bahamut opened his wings wide, wider, the flare of light from his chest burning.

Against the fire, Akhutai still stood, unbowed, head lifted toward Bahamut, horns silhouetted against the light. 

Bahamut roared. 

Akhutai lifted his axe, up, out and down in a shielding spell. 

And, in the last instant, head canted to one side, one corner of his mouth curled up.

The world exploded.

No.

Columns of fire shot down from the sky, straight for where Akhutai stood, a tidal wave of fire roiling out from Bahamut’s suspended form, deafening thunder cracking as lightning split the air. All was heat, sound, pressure, light, pain, forcing Wisp against the ground skidding their back across the floor with the force of it, a soundless cry ripped from them until they lost all sense of body, of thought, of reason, of anything but the light and the heat.

Then, suddenly, absence. Nothing.

A chill in the sudden retreat of flame. Air, rushing. And pain.

Akhutai…Onawa… With the first return of thought, Wisp forced one swollen eyelid open, then the other.

The world was dark. Fire extinguished.

In the faint glow that remained, Akhutai still stood. 

He turned to face the center of the platform, axe still held in unburned hands, expression calm. Unbowed, again. 

Unharmed.

A sob of relief caught in Wisp’s raw throat. Unharmed.

Akhutai looked briefly to Wisp at the noise that escaped them, then Onawa. Onawa! She, too, lay further back on the platform than she had before the blast, but as Wisp looked one hand shifted.

But where…

Akhutai’s attention snapped back to the center of the platform, just as Bahamut dropped from the shadows, the blow from his wing deflected by a quick block from Akhutai’s axe. For a moment, they stilled, the summoned dragon’s pain-mad eyes meeting the Au Ra’s steady ones. Then Bahamut struck again, again deflected. 

He roared, throwing his body back, and a searing light streamed from the sky. In it coiled all the tortured energy that ever had gathered here - pain and fear and grief and rage and hate wrapped together, given form. It struck Akhutai where he stood. And again. And again. 

Please, please, no. Wisp pushed themselves to their hands. Their knees. This was not a blow meant to be taken alone. Below Bahamut, across the ring, they saw Onawa rise, too, crouching balanced on one knee. She looked up, scars stark against her skin, a fierce determination showing through the distance-wrought shadows, and her gaze met Wisp’s. 

Wisp pushed themselves to one foot, but the muscles gave beneath them, spent. Bahamut beat his wings once, twice, scattering flames and a force that blasted back over Wisp and Onawa with each, and Wisp saw Onawa collapse again even as she felt her own knees give way, nausea rising. And again that impossible blue light gathered. 

Hydaelyn, please, no…

Prayer and spell together on their lips, Wisp fixed their gaze on that light, reached for the aether at their core once more, and stretched out their hand. A light of another kind trickled into their palm. Across the ring, Onawa, still on her knees, lifted her head, her hand extended, too. 

Bahamut’s light slammed down.

Wisp took in a last breath, gathering a final strength.

And Akhutai burst through the ray of Bahamut’s force, shedding it from scales and skin like water. The light flared from the copper bracer on his wrist, from the blade of his axe as he swung it down over his head, burying it one, final time, in the center of this shade Bahamut’s chest.

The light everywhere dimmed, died.

Bahamut fell back, a shattering cry screaming up his throat. Akhutai stepped back, freeing his axe neatly from the gaping, empty void in Bahamut’s chest, standing ready. 

But readiness was no longer needed.

Slowly, from the echoing empty wound to the tips of his wings, Bahamut began to disintegrate. To dissipate.

And as Akhutai stood witness to this last stand of the end of this once-great dragon driven to madness in its eternal torture, the last shades of the pain wrought over and over in this place crept out through the aether, and Wisp felt their mind slip toward darkness again.

—

“What happened here?! Akhutai! Onawa…Wisp?” Alphinaud’s voice drifted over them from somewhere.

“They will be fine. Hydaelyn’s blessing will take hold soon.”

“But they…”

“We will bring them out. It will help.”

“And Bahamut…?”

“Gone.”

“Good. It’s over.” That was Alisae’s voice. Shaky, but close.

“Yes.” And Akhutai’s voice was close, too. They could feel others close by them, living aether, living bodies. “Gather their weapons, will you?” Then something touched them, a hand on their shoulder, an arm shifting their body, and new lines of pain screamed along their veins, taking them under again.

—

“Wisp. You awake yet?” This voice, too, was familiar, rough in sound but gentle in tone. Onawa’s. Onawa coughed, once, and true recognition hit.

Wisp opened their eyes, and above them was sunlight. True sunlight, filtered through the welcoming canopy of leaves. The sight of it brought tears springing to their eyes, and they spread their hands, sensation returning slowly as they sank their hands, their claws into the silky grass and soft moss beneath them. Sensation - but not pain. 

They sat up, blinking, and looked sharply to where Onawa’s voice had come from. She sat paces away, knees pulled up to chest, ears tilted back, but not on alert. 

Safe, they were safe.

Wisp inspected Onawa, who looked back at her, one brow lifted as she eased out her legs to dig in one pocket, withdrawing her pipe a moment later. No burns laced her arms, no bandages crossed her shoulder. Wisp looked down at their own hands. Burn free, as well, and their tail twitched behind them, mobile as ever. 

They looked back to Onawa, and something in their eyes must have spoken some message, for Onawa laid her pipe aside a moment, and reached over to clasp Wisp’s wrist as Wisp reached for her. They stayed like that a moment, wrists clasped briefly in each other’s hands, almost a physical touch of the Echo, and Wisp saw the same echoed memory of horror, of loss, of discovery and witness, in Onawa’s eyes as they felt in themselves. An ache of bone-deep pain even when the true pain was gone.

“Aye, but it’s done.” Onawa released them, and leaned back against the bole of a tree, lifting one hand in a small greeting as the other picked up her pipe again. Wisp looked to where Onawa had waved. There was no sign of Akhutai - gone as quietly as he had come, though the image of him standing against the landscape of Bahamut’s flame, ever unbowed, remained etched in their mind. But, across the clearing, Alphinaud and Alisae were just appearing up the path, white hair bright in the patch of sun they walked through, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

It’s done. It was done. And yet a legacy, too, lived on.

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

FFXIV Husbando List: Tanks

This is not a list of husbandos who ARE of each class. This is a list of husbandos FOR each class.

Also, this is full of spoilers that go all the way to the end of the game.

I was gonna do all of the classes but this actually got kind of involved so I’ma break it up a bit.

I stand by these pairings regardless of the class-member’s gender.

Paladin: Martyn

WHO? The “trainer” of Blue Magic. A loser, a charlatan, an occasional crook, and a heart of...well, gold may be pushing it, but he might get bronze.

WHY? Because he’s a hopeless fixer-upper, and Paladins have heals but aren’t actual healers. Also I can honestly see a really sweet relationship forming between this well-meaning idiot and the noble protector who keeps pulling his ass out of the fire.

Warrior: Seto

WHO? The giant amaro who was once ally to the Warrior of Light in Shadowbringers.

WHY? Listen, a husbando doesn’t have to be a sexual thing. Sometimes it’s just someone you get along with really well - the kind of man you want to have in  your life. And when you’re a warrior with a raging inner beast, there’s nothing quite so lovely to have as a friend as a literal beast the size of a small house who is super duper chill. Rock-chan, we’ll always have Summerford.

Dark Knight: Louisoix

WHO? The grandfather of twins Alphinaud and Alisaie, the great Louisoix lost his life at the Battle of Cartenau when he fought Bahamut. He was reborn as the Phoenix and got to have an entire ‘nother plotline.

WHY? Are you kidding, you have so much in common! You’re sick of establishment solutions. You come back from the dead as necessary. You’re able to tank a dragon the size of a mountain. And you love to talk philosophy and make biting snarky commentary in equal measure.

Gunbreaker: Zhai’a Nelhah

WHO? Zhai’a is the overzealous white mage who at first opposes your learning of deeper Black Magic in the BLM job quest line. He softens up over time, which makes him read a bit like tsundere in general.

WHY? Like Paladin-Martyn, this pairing has big Odd Couple energy. But in this case you are the fuckup, and you’re hoping he’ll give you Benediction when you shoot yourself in the head for defensive reasons. You care a great deal and want to do right, but every gunbreaker we’ve seen in-story has needed someone looking after them, and the story of Nelhah warming to you even as everything you do makes him give this exasperated sigh and head-shake is lovely.

[starsfreckled-archived]

calamity .

 tw for death, violence, blood, grief etc . if you play xiv you know what the calamity is & that it wasn’t pretty .

“go inside” amaya listens to an elezen woman ushering her children into their home, eyes looking up at the red moon that slowly but surely has gotten closer over the past few months. it was terrifying to look at and yet, there was something hypnotizing about it too.

the auri woman hurries through gridania’s pathways, holding a box filled with bandages and medicine. they had started to stock up on what they could find in the guild. usually they did not lack herbs and what not but most of it had been shipped to carteneau. most of the conjurer and healers who stayed back now supplied their own personal stockpiles. 

looking back up at the moon, she could not help but have the sinking feeling that something was wrong ( well more wrong than the empire being ready to conquer them, more than those rumors about something called project meteor ). “amaya, are you alright?” a gentle hand rests on her shoulder and her gaze quickly shifts from the descending moon to aurifort. “yes... I... I was just lost in thought. how are preparations going for you?” the elezen shrugs, looking back to the twin adder’s headquarters. 

“I think we have done what we can. most of them wish they were at the battlefield and not here. those who are glad to be here are mostly those who work together with the hearers. they say the elementals have been restless as of late.” the mention of the elemental still makes her feel nervous, surely her and her family had proven many times that they belonged to gridania but who knew how the forest’s mood would be. they could be cast out within seconds.

“right then, I’ll go back. you stay within the guild, yes?” aurifort dips his head down, kissing her. both smile and she nods. “stay safe, yes?”

the first thing she heard was the bursting of the moon, followed by the great wyrm’s roar. it was near deafening, even though the dragon was not close to gridania.

what came next were the screams.

and the screams were followed by chaos, flames and blood. within moments the conjurer guild was filled with wounded citizen. she tried to ask what was happening but nobody could give her a clear answer. from the words she could gather and from the shaking of the earth, it truly seemed like the whole world was about to collapse.

“amaya can you and a few others start to prepare mih khetto’s amphitheater for more wounded? the guild cannot hold any more” looking up from one of her patients that she had just finished bandaging, amaya nods towards e-sumi-yan “shall we take some of the more lightly wounded with us to help?” the guildmaster nods and amaya quickly gathers some healers and volunteers.

...the outside greeted them with the warmth of near flames and the screams growing even louder. people ran about in a panic as above them the sky itself seemed to rain fire.

their little group hurried along, it was a long track from the guild to the theater, havng to enter one of the tunnels near apkallu’s falls. absent minded, amaya notices that the eldery elezen that had often stood there was gone. louisoix had been his name if she recalled it right and she had often seen him and others hurry about or discuss the state of things. they had seemed far more involved in the preparations for this than others. at one point they had even talked, though briefly. kan-e-senna had introduced them, but the moment the elder seedseer had mentioned her migraines, amaya had excused herself. she couldn’t risk anyone knowing about those strange visions she had.

just as she was about to turn back to her group, one of those flashes swept her away from her current presence. she found herself looking at the carteneau flats. there was nothing but terror and death. the great wyrm descended down, his stare fixated on a lone figure ---was that louisoix? 

before she could really tell, the vision was already over and amaya quickly leaned against one of the stone walls as the migraine grew stronger. looking up she opened her mouth to call out for the other healers... when the tunnel collapsed, burying conjurer and wounded alike. anyone who had already been hiding in the theater that day perished.

staring at the now destroyed entrance, the young woman simply stands there, not even able to move. she barely notices when aurifort grabs her shoulders, shaking her to get her attention before finally hugging her, averting her gaze from the blood that started to pour out beneath the stones. 

“amaya, go back to the guild, tell e-sumi-yan what happened. tell him we are going into the woods, the hearers say that the elementals are in chaos, we have to bring everyone into gridania.” she still stares past him but when aurifort takes hold of her face it seems to finally break her trance and she nods. “I can come with you, if someone needs help I can heal them” he smiles and his fingers brush over her cheeks. “no, you need to warn people not to use the tunnels and help prepare the guild to take in more wounded - I’ll also go and bring your father here. it’s better to not be alone right now and he can help organize things” right. gyosei’s knowledge back from his days when he fought for doma could be of use.

“tell him to take along my mother’s journals, she wrote down how to properly improvise when faced with too many wounded” she is about to turn away and rush back to the conjurer guild when aurifort tugs her back and kisses her, leaning their foreheads together. “stay safe, my heart. I’ll be back before you know it.”

it was the last kiss the two of them would share. she barely remembers the hours that followed. she knows she told the other healers about the deaths at the theater, she remembers their shocked faces but like her they didn’t cry. none of them had time to panic and shed tears. they had to concentrate on saving lives.

she remembers that the lights from outside seemed to flash, that people said something fought bahamut... that bahamut disappeared. it barely made a difference with the noise. with the roaring of the dragon gone, the screams from all across the twelve woods only grew louder. hours passed, perhaps even a day or two, she could barely remember it.

only when she nearly collapsed and e-sumi-yan told her to rest did she leave the safety of the guild, stepping outside into sunlight and a foreve changed eorzea. taking a deep breath she wondered where by the twelve she could just lay down and rest when she realized that... neither her father nor aurifort had returned.

...she ran. she ran past the people who tried to stop her, she ran through the yellow serpent gate and into the north shroud. trying to recreate the steps one would take to quickly gather the people of all the near villages... but the woods had changed and paths that used to lead somewhere lead nowhere. bridges had collapsed and the entire ground seemed changed. still. she found her way around, recognizing different little things.

she must be near the gelmorra ruins. the old collapsed walls looked like the place where they had once stood.a memory of a long gone place... sheis about to hurry past them and up towards peacegarden and hyrstmill, when once more the visions take her.

the sky still burns and the wyrm still rages. aurifort and her father lead a small group of survivors past the ruins, the two of them trying to distract each other by talking. “by the kami, I do hope the house survives. I had planned on giving it to you and amaya after the wedding” “we’ll deal with things as they come, we just need to survive this... a cottage can be rebuild after all” they keep on talking, talking about how gyosei build a tree house for amaya when they had just arrived. how she had slept there for days after her mother’s death and only aurifort managed to coax her down. they talk when the cliffside next to them collapses, when the stones bury them and everyone in their group...

no, no, no. she runs towards the stones, trying to figure out the spot her father and fiance had stood. she screams when she finds the severed hand of her father, trying to shove away the boulders, going as far as to use her magic and using her own aether... but she isn’t strong enough.

with a scream she falls on her knees, burying her head in her hands and weeping. 

she is found hours later by wood wailers who bring her back to gridania. it takes two days until she finally talks. until in a hushed voice she mumbles the names of the people who had died underneath those boulders. and then... then she takes her gief and locks it away.

she is alive and she has things to do. wounded are still pouring in, now even more as the soldiers return from the flats. it takes weeks upon weeks for a sense of sanity to return. it takes weeks until their shifts aren’t short naps in a corner before they throw themselves into mending broken bodies. when they can slow down, the world has truly and fully changed, the map of eorzea mingled beyong recognition in some parts.

...one part that seemed, in some sort of twist, barely touched is the area around amaya’s cottage. it still stands, some branches had penatrated the roof, but nothing she couldn’t fix... she couldn’t fix the emptiness of it though. the silence that seemed to drown her there. but she makes it work. she digs a grave next to her mother’s grave, she places flowers down. she fixes the roof and starts to offer her works out of the cottage, transforming it’s upper parts into a place where she could take care of the sick and hurt.

...it doesn’t heal the gaping hole in her heart, but it helps her burying it. burying her emotions and her pain. she doesn’t cry for her family again, not even during the ceremonies held acroos eorzea to remember the fallen. she simply stubbornly throws herself into her work.

[fishfishlove]

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #13: To Tend the Flame

Prompt: wax | Master Post | On AO3

Notes: Spoilers for Shadowbringers MSQ and spoilers for the Binding Coils of Bahamut side story.

She first noticed it during the battle at Laxan Loft, but it’s not until they reach Il Mheg that Synnove really paid attention to the new aether curling and weaving amongst her own.

Oddly enough, it’s not the Lightwarden’s. That had felt ice-sharp and rotten-soft at the same time, white to the point of pain and not singing but screeching of broken glass and denied, raging hunger. No, that aether sat in the core of herself, sulking and bitter, but otherwise not influencing her spells.

No, this aether was…warm. Fiery, but the welcome flame of a campfire in the night, or the hearth of a well-loved home. She outright dismissed it as Ifrit’s aether leaking from Ivar; that was too distinctive and too familiar. This new aether was familiar, too, and the way it intertwined among her own, yet remains separate, reminded her of a primal’s lingering touch, so clearly at some point she had come into contact with it.

There was a niggle of an idea at the back of her mind. The hypothesis was set; now to observe.

First: the Dreadwyrm’s aether coalesced much faster. Previously, she had needed to trance at least twice to build up sufficient reserves to (grudgingly) indulge Ivar and use him as the core to summon Demi-Bahamut to the field. Now she only needed to trance just the once. Ivar, at least, was delighted by this change, her bloodthirsty, rage-filled boy.

(And at least she’d stopped having panic attacks every time she’d needed to activate that array.)

Second: the new, strange aether reached peak coalescence only after she had finished coalescing Dreadwyrm aether, and then dissipating it with a summon of Demi-Bahamut. In fact, she couldn’t even tap into Dreadwyrm aether again until she’d tranced with the new aether.

Third: while trancing with the new aether, it affected two of her spells. Outburst was a relatively new creation that the aetherochemistry department had only recently finalized; Synnove had offered to field test it shortly before she and the others had been whisked away to the First. That spell fluctuating due to an unexpected outside influence was unusual, considering how rigorously the Guild tested and developed their arrays, but not impossible. Ruin III, however, was an old standby, a tried and true blast of pure, unaspected power reserved for the most talented members of the Guild that had been in circulation for years. The only arrays more stable were the ones for the rest of the Ruin series and the standard carbuncle summons they gave to the baby arcanists (who weren’t insane overachievers like herself who had to write her own from scratch).

And it wasn’t just subtle effects. No, both Ruin III and Outburst were unaspected; arcanists liked working without the interference of specific elemental affinities, or alternatively with an equal amount of each kind so that they all canceled one another out, it made the math behave. (There was a bloody good reason she’d run into the wall on her artificial aether infusion project: working with elementally aspected aether was essentially working with literal fucking chaos and sometimes it was fun, but sometimes it just sucked.) This new surge of primal aether turned her respectable, unaspected spells into roiling balls of fire and pitch.

Ivar, of course, loved it. Heron and Alakhai, who also preferred to fight in the melee, not so much.

Fourth: the aether sang, as it always did. It reminded her very strongly of the Dreadwyrm aether’s dirge-like ballad, but this aether’s song was slower, more solemn. Wordless crooning matched with the resonant tones of an Ishgardian pipe organ. It was a funeral hymn: no rage, only deep, boundless sorrow, and a bottomless well of love.

Observations complete, she compared the data sets the night they vanquished Titania, absently rubbing her chest every so often as she did. The carbuncles curled up around her in various stages of patience—Galette in her usual spot around her neck, Tyr loafed next to her, Ivar sprawled in her lap and reaching up to either bat at his sister’s tails or his brother’s ears—as she set up the portable readout device she’d thankfully packed back on the Source. Synnove flipped open her grimoire sitting on the ground next to her on the opposite side of Tyr, paging through until she got to the first page of the arrays for Ivar’s passive sensor programming.

Humming quietly, she took the channeling stylus from her mouth, and placed the tip on the activation sigil. The array lit up, and so did the readout device, pulsing out a hologram that scrolled through the most recent aether readings. Synnove squinted as she skimmed the data, scratching Tyr’s neck until the big carbuncle turned into a happy puddle of brass purrs.

Then she called up data from nearly four years ago.

“Synnove?”

She looked up, only a little startled, to meet Alisaie’s worried gaze.

“Is everything all right?” said Alisaie.

Synnove looked back at the data, gnawing on her lower lip as the implications of the data sunk in. She let out a slow breath and said, “Don’t know yet. Fetch your brother, please, the both of you need to see this.”

Alisaie, Twelve bless her, didn’t hesitate, just turned and hurried off to find Alphinaud. She returned with her twin in a handful of minutes to the spot out in the fields surrounding Lydha Lran that Synnove had settled in to review her notes. By the time they reached her, Synnove had pulled up both data sets onto the viewer at once. She gestured, and the siblings both sat in front of her.

“So,” said Synnove, setting down her channeling stylus carefully to ensure the tip still touched the activation sigil of the array, “I’ve noticed a peculiar bit of aether mixing with my own recently and no, it’s not the Lightwarden’s.”

Alphinaud and Alisaie’s looks of alarms quickly subsided, in favor of concern and interest as Synnove outlined for them the changes she noted. Then she pointed to the readout device.

“The display on the left is the recent data Ivar’s passive sensors have recorded,” she said. “I’m sure Galette and Tyr’s would read the same, but since Ivar is the only one installed with the Dreadwyrm Protocols, he has the most complete set.”

Alphinaud scratched Tyr behind the ears, as the big carbuncle had crawled forward for pettings during Synnove’s explanation. “And I note that it’s exactly the same as the display on the right,” he said.

Synnove hummed agreement, rhythmically running her hand down Ivar’s back from his head to the base of his tails

Alisaie sat with her arms crossed, just staring at the displayed data. Finally, she said, “The data from the right is from the Binding Coils, isn’t it?”

“It is,” said Synnove, quiet and serious.

“That’s,” and Alisaie swallowed, “that’s Phoenix’s aether.”

“I believe so.”

Alphinaud didn’t look as rattled as his twin, but Synnove had known him long enough to spot the tension around his mouth and eyes. “Why now?” he said. “You’ve been using the Dreadwyrm Protocols for a number of years by now, so why has Phoenix’s aether remained dormant for so long?”

“My best guess,” said Synnove, “is because we’re here on the First. Eorzea is upfront about the fact that Dalamud’s fall and Bahamut’s rampage unquestionably fucked up the continent both on a physical and metaphysical level. The rest of our home star claims suddenly only having a single moon in the sky after the second one blew up a few miles directly above the surface had no effect on their magicks and aether, but we can all three agree that they’re probably trying to save face to a bunch of foreigners how mucked up things got for them, because that is a load of chocobo shite.”

Alphinaud coughed, smothering a smile, as Alisaie momentarily forgot her distress and snickered loudly.

“Bahamut’s aether didn’t just insinuate itself into everyone at Carteneau,” continued Synnove, continuing to pet Ivar and reaching up with her other hand to scratch behind Galette’s ears. Both carbuncles purred happily. “And it didn’t just insinuate itself into everyone in Eorzea, though I’ll grant that Eorzeans have the highest concentrations. No, Bahamut’s aether is everywhere on the Source; it’s permeated every rock and tree and beastkin and Spoken.

“It’s always been too easy to coalesce Dreadwyrm aether; when I’ve run through my own aetheric reserves, I can still use the Protocols without much fuss. If I was only ever using the aether comingled with my own, I should run out, but I don’t. Thus, I have to be unconsciously drawing upon the Dreadwyrm aether all around me.”

“But here on the First,” said Alphinaud, thoughtful, “Bahamut’s aether only exists in you and us Scions. I have noticed you still have had no issues using the Protocols, so we can assume you are able to draw on the Dreadwyrm aether within us and the others.”

Synnove inclined her head to him. “Just so.”

“So, with a finite amount of Dreadwyrm aether,” said Alisaie, “Phoenix’s aether is finally detectable, and even able to exert influence and become usable with the dissipation of Bahamut’s. And with how quickly and how strong it coalesces, it needs to be dissipated in turn before repeating the cycle.”

“That is my theory for what’s occurring,” said Synnove. “And, of course, I’ve noticed it steadily growing stronger and more stable since this began. No doubt it’ll continue to do so, although at the moment I couldn’t tell why.”

The twins shared a long, silent look. Alphinaud raised a single eyebrow. Alisaie nodded.

They turned back to her, their expressions serious, but the gleam of excitement was in their eyes. Synnove recognized it and grinned; bless their nerdy hearts, her darling little sibs.

“What would you like to do with this, Synnove?” said Alphinaud.

“And how can we help?” said Alisaie.

“Well,” drawled Synnove, “we’ll need to build some arrays to control how Phoenix’s aether warps my spells when I’m trancing with it. And then, I believe, we should prepare for the day when his aether has grown strong enough that Phoenix will fly the skies of the First as he once did at Carteneau to vanquish Bahamut, with all the prayers of Eorzea to guide him. If you two are all right with that?”

The twins dove forward to embrace her; Galette squwaked unhappily at being jostled, but they ignored her. Synnove returned their hugs, smiling, and tucked them in under her arms. Tyr immediately came over to flop across all three of their laps.

“You’re the only one I’d trust with it,” Alisaie said.

“We couldn’t think of anyone better suited,” added Alphinaud.

“Thank you,” Synnove said, as heartfelt and honored as she could. “Now then, my fellow nerds, let’s get to it!”

[ainarosewood]

Prompt # 23 Parched Visions

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

This takes place right after the events of the MSQ A Requiem for Heroes. So MSQ Spoilers beneath the cut

It had been a very long time since Ryna had found herself with nothing to do.  After she had returned to the Rising Stones from Isgard the other remaining scions had set about searching for the Beacon that the cowled man had said he left for her. The fighting in Ala Mhigo had reached a stalemate and General Raubahun had made it clear he hadn’t needed her skills on the line.  It even seemed that petitions to the Adventurers guild in all of the cities had slowed down, that or all of the heads there were making sure she didn’t have to do any. 

So here she was finding herself without any work and hating it.  When she had work she could distract herself from worrying about the Archons and the twins but now, she had time to focus on it and she could feel how frayed her nerves were.  Both Amber and Fairwinds were doing their best to try to distract their Captain from here worries but it was not working well since they themselves were just as worried.

She also had to hide said worries for the remaining Scions were looking to her for leadership.  She honestly didn’t mind she understood they needed stability in this uncertain time. So she put on her Captain’s face and made sure she was there when they needed her.  The strain was wearing on her but she endured, she had to for all their sakes.

She decided to spend the afternoon with the unconscious Scions.  It had been several days since she had carried Alisaie into that room and placed her on the bed not far from her brother.  Guilt racked her that shed been unable to save either of them from their current fate.

An I swear by Llymlaen, if that cowled cur is responsible for this…if they’ve come to any harm I’ll keel haul him! she thought to herself fiercly.

Both her carbuncles chimed in agreement and then hopped on each bed to curl up with one of the twins.  Fairwinds had become quite fond of Alisaie the girls fiery temper impressing the carbuncle and she never ceased to be amused at seeing people fall to the young elezen’s razor wit and tongue.  Amber had taken to Alphinaud before even Ryna had realized her fondness for either twin.  His steadfast determination and desire for bringing about a better future had endeared himself to her.

Ryna sat down on a chair between the beds gently taking a hand in each of hers. No one, save the carbuncles knew how much the twins fall had hurt her.  She knew they were strong, she had seen them stand against Bahamut himself weakening him enough so she could go and slay his heart.  But they were so young and fragile looking. Especially right now, both of them looked so wan and pale and the stillness was frightening.  

Im sorry, I couldn’t save ye both, she said silently to them. As she sat there the strain of the past few weeks finally took their toll and she found herself drifting off.

***************************************************************************************

Ryna found her self stumbling along aimless. She was going…..somewhere. The Viera trudged along staring at the ground it was coated in sand with plants of purple and red hues dotting the landscape around her.  She was near a shore but there was no moisture in the air.  It was cold and the sky was filled with a sickly golden glow that was blinding in its brilliance.  

She staggered along her throat parched from the lack of moisture.  Suddenly the Echo flared in her head filling it with a cascade of images…memories…the pain nearly dropping the Viera to her knees.

To her right a gravely voice began to cackle saying, “Weary Wanderer.”

She whirled to see a white furred gremlin its large golden eyes filled with amusement, “No fight left to fight,” it jeered, “No life left to live.” as it laughed again.

Rage filled her  though she knew not why and she gritted her teeth her hand falling to her grimoire on her hip when she caught a even brighter glow out of the corner of her eye as she turned toward it she heard the little shite chattering, “Lo’ it comes, the end your end.”

Suddenly the light filled clouds parted and a winged being descended.  Its shape was familiar though for the life of her she couldn’t remember why.  

Sin Eater, a naggingly familiar voice echoed in her mind as she opened her tome and summoned out Amber.  The carbuncle leapt between her and the Sin Eater as the beast slashed the air sending a beam of silver light arcing from its blade.  The beam slammed into the carbuncle and then shattered it heading straight for Ryna who threw up her arms in defense…

Then she started as she felt something touch her shoulders she whirled to find a nervous Clemence placing a blanket on her shoulders the walls of the Rising Stones solid behind her.  “Soorry,” the hyur stammered, “I…saw you had fallen asleep and I didn’t want you to catch cold…”

Ryna gave her a gentle smile stating softly, “It’s all right lass, forgive me for turning so I…was havin a bit o a nightmare it seems.”

Clemence smiled back relieved, “Well I’d be surprised if you didn’t after all you’ve been through…you are alright aren’t you?”

Once again Ryna smiled and stated, “Aye lass, as well as I can be givin all that's ‘appened,” She then stood and looked at both of the carbuncles as they jumped from the beds, “ ‘ere I’m sure ye were coming over to take care o this two Aye?”

Clemence nodded then stepped over to the twins and began checking them over as Ryna stated, “I’ll be ‘eading of te proper bed.”

Clemence looked up briefly, “You probably should rest well,” then the cheerful conjurer returned to her work.

As she and the carbuncles made their way to Ryna’s rooms the Viera thought about what had just happened.  Had that been a dream?  Or was it an Echo Vision, if the latter when was that for she didn’t recall ever being in such a place…

Captain what was that? Amber asked looking up at her summoner.

“Wish the ‘ell I knew..” she replied, “All I know is I think after I get some sleep. I’m gonna see bout ‘elpin find that beacon.”

The carbuncle nodded and Fairwinds chimed, We’ll help sooner we find the others the better!

Ryna gave the carbuncle a pat on the head stating, “Aye, that it would be.”

[ranier-layarte]

Unbinding the coils. Chapter 1

Something I have been working on for a while. Decided to just separate it into chapters as I feel comfortable with it. 

In case it’s easier to read it elsewhere. Here is the Ao3 link. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349179

Encased in Allagan light Ranier had a few moments to reflect. The twin's had sent him alone. They were clearly too tired for a fight of this magnitude. Not to mention they had their own job to complete. That they could hope to help in the fight against this enemy as it was currently, well it was doubtful, this was the best option.

The light faded, Ranier was standing on an almost transparent platform. There was nothing. Where could he be? Hoping to launch some kind of surprise attack? No matter what came next, he was ready. As his thoughts raced in his mind, A monstrous growl pierced his ears. He looked around all over until he turned upwards. There it was, Bahamut.

Like a trained soldier he kept his composure, taking a proper stance. His sword  in hand, he placed it at his right side, his shield in his left. He pointed it to the foe, readying himself for combat. Solemnly Ranier locks eyes with Bahamut, the two's gaze piercing each other.

“You have been enough of a blight on this land. I will make sure this is your final resting place, even if I have to die to stop you.”

Dashing forward to Bahamut, the primal being swung at Ranier. Bahamut swung at his adversary ready to rend him with its claws. He slid underneath the beast, evading the gargantuan’s blow. Quickly making his way onto its back, he jumped up to try and land on his shoulders. Heels digging into its neck, He took his blade in both hands, with a rapid motion he thrust it downward, planning to set it into the wyrms head.

Bahamut shook violently to knock him off his back. Ranier fought to keep his balance, exclaiming in his mind. Fuck I don't have a good grip!  Ranier tried to instead stab his sword into it's shoulder. Tripping off the beast  he managed to shove the sword into the wyrm, giving him enough of a chance to gain his footing again. It continued to try and shake him off even more roughly than before. Using the momentum of Bahamut twisting and turning. Ranier waited a few seconds to launch himself with the inertia, back over Bahamut.

He arcs over, removing the blade in a single motion as he does so. Readying to slash the bastard across its face and chest. The blade connects almost instantly Bahamut begins to scream from the pain, lashing out at Ranier stabbing him with its claws in his side.

Returning the scream he hit the ground, landing on his back. The impact knocked the breath out of him. His side was bleeding. Seemed his armor had been pierced, this can't go on long not if he gets more injured. Retrieving a bottle from his belt, he swallows it one drink. Throwing it after shattering it on the ground. The elixir should help him just enough, looking up from the wound.

Bahamut's mouth glowed he was readying a volley of some attack. It looks familiar. Shit! Ranier recognized it, instantly driving the sword into the ground behind him, crouching with the shield in between them. Flare around him showering him in mayhem, even with the shield holding up barely. The impacts force still hurt as he maintained his defense.

It stopped almost on cue to Bahamut's piercing howl. Everything dimmed. Suddenly he could see some sort of orbs appear along with a wyvern. Pulsing vibrantly they began to move. Goddamnit, Ranier. Think. He took the axe from his back and flung it at the wyvern planting it in the reinforcements chest killing it. He readied his battered shield and ran at the first orb letting loose a cry of anger. On contact it created a sudden explosion pushing him back on his feet. Splintering his shield it was falling apart rapidly. The second was coming move fast!

He ran towards the other, planting his feet ready for it, this one knocked him off balance with its fiery detonation. The force sent his arm back as the shield seemingly exploded into shards. Bahamut appeared behind him the wyrm stepping on him, smashing him into the ground. Trying to push up against his weight, he struggled as the beast attempted to grind him into the floor. Steadily he forced himself back up.You can do it Ranier. You can do it! Creating enough room he rolled out from under the dreadwyrms limb. It hit the ground causing an ear splitting sound from the stomp.

The rage was building even more in Ranier now. He drew his axe and ran again to the demon before him. Dragging the axe's blade behind him, the sword ready in front. He swung again at the foul bastard. Much to his dismay, Bahamut caught his sword in his hand. The wyrm seemed to almost smile as it shattered it. Instinctively he pulled hard on the axe bringing up upwards to bahamut's arm, slicing it.

Enraged the beast flew off. It started to channel it's flare again, this one looking even bigger than before. Not to mention, the shadows growing closer. He called for reinforcements again. That son of a bastard! It was something that looked like...Twintania!? How? Damn them. Seven more dragons appeared as a group as sizing him up.

“COME ON THEN YOU WANT ME DEAD?! THEN KILL ME!" Taunting them he hoped it would goad them, making them fighting haphazardly.

Axe at ready for bloodshed he sprinted to the closest dragon. Lifting his axe over his head. he roared. He brought the axe down on it's head and split it in half, sending gore and blood about.

“DIE YOU ANIMALS!”

The dragons were not pleased at the slaying. All of them charging him full force. One bit his leg shackling him, its maw digging into his armor as a living tether. He swung at one of the wyverns that planned to attack him while distracted. Pulling the weight of the axe up to its head, cutting it off. Sending it's corpse flying off the edge of the arena as it's head tumbled. He was distracted by the damned wyvern! The rest piled onto him biting into his armor, gnawing at him like rabid animals. He was desperately thrashing to gain some freedom.

The area glowed more intensely as more approached. Twintania had been watching, waiting. It hovered at the edge of the arena. He had seen that before as well. She was planning to dive into him. They sought to push him off the platform and cast him into the abyss below. These beasts, merely grunts to hold him in one spot!

He banged the end of the axe into the dragon gnawing on his arm, bursting it's skull. With it dead he had more breathing room.  They were about to face a reckoning, Ranier had two free arms now. Sending his axe into the skull of one the foe's biting his legs. He was balancing the scales as it went on. Grasping the axe in both he turned into a whirlwind spinning. With his weapon outstretched to cleave anything in its path, nothing could come close. The beasts were mindlessly running into his steel, shredding themselves. His feet hit the ground as twintania barreled towards him.

“You just don't learn do you?!"

He swung the axe upwards again as the feral being reached him. It's head connecting with the sharpness.  It split down the middle, blood gushing over him as it's  like its winged brethren before. The blood of it falling to his sides in crimson cascades as its separate halves fell.  Turning around with his scarlet eyes focused on Bahamut. Glowing fiercely, his inner beast raging.

“Your allies lay dead, soon you will follow!”

The great wyrm howled. It's giga flare unleashed, Ranier hastened over to the dead dragons. Using the  corpses of the dragons as shields he created a bunker in that moment. Seeking to use their flesh as protection. All he could smell was the burning of flesh. All he could see was light.

Seared were the corpses and his armor. Almost set aflame from the surrounding embers. The Monster landed in front of him. Two standing as it started. Two ready for the end.

“Bahamut it ends here!”

Both letting loose their primal screams as they charged each other. Using the axes spear like tip, he thrust it into Bahamut's stomach. Pushing into it as hard as he could. Bahamut winced only barely noticeably so, seemingly unphased by the damage. He grabbed Ranier by his head and threw him to the edge. No, no! Bahamut had thrown him with great force. Well enough that he couldn't hope to stop himself from falling over. Reaching the end of the arena he slid, his hand  shooting up, catching the edge. Desperately he tried to lift himself up.

The wyrm took the chance to prepare for another flare. The time was now. Ranier pulled harder. With all of his might he lifted his tired body over the edge. Taking no time to collect himself.

“COME ON!”

Jumping at the distracted wyrm. It blinded by it's final attack. Ranier blinded by his desire to end bahamut. He flew at it eyes full of rage. Landing his axe into Bahamut's head. The beast groaned. The magic faded slowly from its mouth. Ranier let go, hitting the ground. Watching Bahamut swing wildly, it reached up tying to remove the axe from his head. Pure panic was filling him. Ultimately he attempted to reach Ranier hoping to attack the vulnerable man before it's demise. Roaring, it reached for him, claws at the ready. Suddenly it ceased movement. Slumping over onto the spot wherein Ranier lay, He rolled to the side. Staring at it as the aether began to dissipate. Bright blue shards levitating from its body.

“...Is it over?”

Ranier was in disbelief, he had won. With a chuckle off relief he whispers to himself.

"Hmph, no contest."

He lay back on the ground, a few moments to regain his breath. But he had to return. Attempting to stand, his side began bleeding more profusely than before. In his adrenaline he hadn't noticed how bad it really was. Wincing from the large wound, he took a potion and some cloth from his satchel. They needn't know his wounds. Removing his armor he took a second to patch up the wound for now. Taking back his armor and donning it again, dressed in more than one way. He picked up his axe from Bahamut's head, causing it to explode fully into aether. He took a small part of his shield and the shattered remnants of his blade. He stepped onto the new gate that appeared. A clear exit for him...

[kaoru-takaida]

The Ending That Marked Her Beginning...

Amongst the chaotic battlefield of Carteneau, two brave and foreign warriors fought hard. One to slay the Imperial soldiers as they tried mercilessly to slay him. And the other, healing him with her beautifully crafted staff to heal his ails. She gasps as a surprise blast explodes directly next to him, causing him to flop to the side. "Ryuu!!!" She screams, running to his side. She kneels next to him, and powers her aether, attempting to heal him. It flickers before igniting. But dulls every few seconds.

He looks at her, clamping his hand over his wounded shoulder, groaning in pain. "Sakura, you've almost exhausted your Aether. You cannot take anymore."

She shakes her head. "That can wait. You are not dying here! I won't let you!" Sakura scowls to Ryuu, her voice trembling a little. "We just... have to last till Master Louisoix can take care of that meteor. We... we can do this!" The two Xeala Auri make a point to look up in the sky, where a giant moon sized meteor descended from the dark bloody sky. Bodies upon bodies strewn all over the battlefield. Most dead, others screaming in pain. Sakura herself, was battered and bruised. A piece of her her horn missing on the left, and the right one shattered and missing the other half. Ryuu was no better. Far worse with numerous gashes and bruises, and cuts, and looking almost like he was put through a grater.

Brave Warriors of Light battle on in the distance, seeming a world apart in skills and power. Plowing through the battlefield with a facade of ease. But even they were struggling to stay alive.

Ryuu looks up at Sakura. "Do not be absurd! You need to help Master Leveilleur at all costs. Leave me be before-." Sakura coughs, and blood spews from the side of her mouth as her aetherial light bursts before fading entirely. She collapses onto her wounded husband and coughs repeatedly. "Sakura!!" Ryuu strains himself to sit up, grunting in effort and pain. She pulls her to him and shifts a few fulms away to sit against a column of rock, resting her in his lap. "You used too much Aether! You need to rest..." She smiles up at him sadly. He realizes his hand feels wet. He removes it from her back before seeing blood drip down his fingers.

Sakura keeps the smiles on her lips. "I... wanted to heal you first. But I did not poccess enough Aether to even heal myself." He gives her a look of shock.

And then it happened...

The meteor shattered. And all hell broke loose.

~~~~~~~~~

A tiny Auri girl follows two Elezen twins down the hall of the Studium. A big tug on her tail took her by surprise. She turns to see two Elezen boys, bigger than herself, standing there. The girl glances over her shoulder, making sure her young master and mistress were already of ears shot. They were already turning down the next hall towards their dorms. Another tug on her horns makes her snap her head around back at them. "Such a strange race you are. Where you come from, are all you dragon people slaves like your family?" He scoffs. "Well, Kaoru?"

Kaoru pushes the boy back, scowling at them. "I beg your pardon?!" She snaps. "You've any idea whom you peons are addressing?" She fixes her black and pink hair. "I'm no slave to anyone. And I was born here in Sharlayan. Not wherever your tiny brains thing I originate from." One Elezen boy, crosses his arms before walking behind her, both surrounding her.

"Oh?" He says. "That isn't what I hear." He smirks at her. "I hear that your mum and dad travelled here from a foreign land and begged House Leveilleur to take them in."

Kaoru scoffs. "Master Louisoix took them in. They did not beg, you insufferable fool..." She puts a hand on her hip, planting her feet. "Even as a Sister House member, I've more class than you ilk." She hisses. "How dare you think to mock me."

One boy scowls. But the first boy only laughs. "You jest..." He begins. "Is House Takaida so deluded in their position they actually see us as equals?" He says. The second boy kicks her back from behind, knocking the wind from her lungs and forcing her to her knees.

"You-." Before she can say anything, he pins her arms behind her back and rests a knee on her shoulder to keep her on her knees. "Unhand me, you swine!"

"Swine?" The boy asks, taking her by the chin. "Slaves aren't to speak to us like that..." He tightens his grip, forcing her to look up at him. "Tel l me, do you address Alphinaud and Alisaie with such a foul mouth? You follow them around ready for their every need. What is that to you, if not a slave or servant?

"As I've said, I'm no slave of-." Before she could finish, the boy slaps her. Her eyes are wide in shock. She'd never been hit before. Not by anyone that wasn't her combat instructor... her cheek stings a bit, but she had scales there luckily. He shakes his hand off, hissing a bit.

He laughs at her mortified expression. "What's this? Never been punished like this before?" He looks at his hand and tsks seeing it turn pink from hitting her scales. "No matter... there are other ways to break a slave."

He kicks her in the gut.

~~~~~~~~

Ryuu holds his broken wife in his arms, both of them bleeding without respite. Bahamut rages from above and they watch as Master Louisoix's plan of sealing him, fails. He stands on a cliff side not 50 fulms away. Ryuu and Sakura look around the battlefield as adventurers drop their weapons on hopelessness. Sakura and Ryuu can feel it too. As they can feel the grip of death easing it's way into their bodies. But there wasn't any sadness... just relief. They look at each other knowingly. As if a silent agreement. Ryuu laughs. "I'm going to miss your cooking, love."

She laughs. "Aye... And I your stories and jokes." She responds. They both hug as the huge flare gifted from Bahamut draws nearer.

Louisoix then begins to whisk others away with teleportation magicks. He turns to cast over Ryuu and Sakura. But a shake of Ryuu and Sakura's heads take him by surprise. "We will not last another moment... Master Louisoix." Ryuu tells him through his linkshell.

Sakura sighs. "Please... rescue the others..."

"My children..." He begins.

"Master Louisoix, please..." She begins.

Ryuu smiles over to him. "Our journey has come to it's end. Save the others and yourself."

As the last few warriors are teleported away, Master Louisoix remains. "You have my thanks you two. May your rest be peaceful..."

They both smile at one another as the light grows blinding. "Our dear little Kaoru..." Ryuu begins.

"Be strong and brave for us..." Sakura finishes.

And the flare envelops them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alisaie dabs Kaoru's cut above her cheek with a cloth wet with disinfectant. She hisses in pain before taking it from Alisaie to hold it there herself. "Honestly, why do you let people do that to you." She asks, putting away the medical kit. "This will have to do till we get you to the infirmary and the chirugeons can heal you."

Alphinaud enters the room, a topaz Carbuncle in his arms. "Well, Beloit will have fun with his new nose job and Croix will have to use one eye for a week." He replies. He keeps his eyes close in a cocky stupor. "I've already reported them to the Headmaster. So we just needs get you to get medical attention and-." He opens his eyes and is taken aback at what he sees.

"Mine apologies Master Alphinaud, Mistress Alisaie." She tells them. "You have my thanks for the untimely rescue." Alisaie looks back at her and gives the same equally shocked expression. "What? I know, I must look horrid..."

"No... that's not it..." Alisaie begins.

"Did those boys really get to you..." Alphinaud begins, pointing to the tears that have begun falling down Kaoru's eyes. "Or..."

Kaoru gives a surprised look now as she feels the tears drip from her chin. She has no idea why.

But she's crying for a reason not known to her...

[anitax26]

Thanks for doing this!

TWIN HEADS

chapter link list

Lees verder

[shieldoflegend]

Primal Instincts

A bit of context for this; Logan was always supposed to start learning Dragoon at some point during 3.0, after Cherise, giving him a DPS class I thought would work for him, instead of just being a Paladin. But when we read the lore entry for Blood of the Dragon, we thought it would be neat if he had some difficulty with it. On top of that I saw an opportunity to use his fear of/connection to Bahamut I’ve used a couple times to help make things even worse. I’ve been sitting on this for literal months trying to figure out a way to make it feel the way I wanted it to, and I’m super happy I finally get to share it.

Cherise and Aiko belong to @awoken-zodiac Akio belongs to @edgiestshadow

“Try it again,” Cherise said.

Logan gripped his Lance, closed his eyes, and tried to find the power of the Eye flowing from his crystal. He tried to find that draconic power. He could see it, but whenever he tried to reach for it, it slid away. Like it was scared of him. Or maybe he was scared of it.

Logan inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped open. He looked at Cherise who shook her head.

“Nothing.”

He sighed and planted his lance on the ground with more force than necessary. “What am I doing wrong? I can see it, I know what I'm supposed to do, but it's not working! The crystal even showed me!”

Beside his sister stood Akio, one of the Wanderers’ other Dragoons, one who had been at this longer than either of them. The three stood together in a training area for Ishgardian knights, graciously offered to them by Aymeric, as long as they followed the same rules and scheduled their time like every other training group.

The towering Au Ra turned Cherise aside for a moment, the two talking low enough that Logan couldn't overhear much.

“...Only way…”

“No… to him…”

“Cherise…”

“...Don't like…”

They paused, and Cherise sighed and turned back to Logan. “I'm going to ask you to do something you're not going to like.”

Logan frowned. “What?”

She seemed pained to respond. “We think you need to tap into your connection with Bahamut. Whatever happened to you during the Calamity, and later when we found him in Dalamud’s ruins…”

“We think you have a connection stronger to him than Nidhogg’s eye,” Akio finished, as Cherise trailed off. “The crystal shows you only a connection to the Eye, but you might need something else. Try it.”

Logan looked from Akio to Cherise. His sister wouldn't look at him. He had been a lot better around dragons since they'd faced Bahamut, that was true. He'd faced off against Nidhogg, and argued with Hraesvalgr, become a linchpin in the Dragonsong War. But he was still afraid. Maybe that was why he couldn't reach the power. It wasn't moving away from him, maybe he was moving away from it.

“Okay,” he said finally, taking a deep breath. “I'll try it.”

Cherise finally looked up at him and they shared a glance. She didn't really want him to, he didn't have to. He assured her it was fine, he wanted to try, he wanted this to work. She relented. All in a glance. Having a twin sister had its perks sometimes.

He closed his eyes again, lance gripped tight and held at the ready. Once again he could see the power, but he largely ignored it. Instead he looked around for something else, for that fear he'd felt when he first laid eyes on Bahamut. He found it, circling above, as if waiting for him to notice. He reached for it, but it snapped at him, and Logan drew back. He could see it now though, he was the one retreating, not the power, he was scared, afraid of this primal essence and of letting it in. This was far more than facing a foe on the battlefield.

But… had he not determined to stop letting fear sway him from moving forward? No, he had to do this. Logan reached out again, and when Bahamut struck out at him, Logan found a spear in his hand and struck back. Bahamut melted into a glowing essence that overtook his spear, then his arm, then flowed over him completely.

Logan's eyes snapped open. He could feel the new energy swirling around him, and he looked over at Cherise and Akio. Their eyes were wide, surprised.

“What?” Logan asked.

“You did it!” Akio said with a grin.

“I can't believe that worked…” Cherise breathed. She then took a moment to compose herself and spoke louder. “Okay, now try to focus all that into a jump on a target. You should find that you can hit it much-”

Before she could even finish, Logan leapt into the air, then came flying back down, his spear ripping through the practice dummy on the other side of the training ground. He leapt back and landed smoothly, took a moment to ensure everything felt okay, then looked back at his dragoon mentors.

“Like that? That definitely felt stronger!” He said excitedly.

“Yes!” Akio exclaimed, and seemed overjoyed that Logan had managed to progress.

Cherise looked more unsure however. “Yeah, pretty much that. There's more to it, but keep practicing that. The crystal will show you more when you're ready for it. For now, go take a break.”

Logan blinked. A break? But he just- “Wait, what time is it?” He asked suddenly.

“Why? I mean…” Cherise looked into the sky. “Not far past noon?”

“Ooh, I gotta go!” Logan said, running past both of them, practically tossing his spear to Cherise on his way past. “Meeting thing they wanted me at, Warrior of Light stuff!”

“Logan, wait a second!” Cherise called after him, but he just gave her a wave and ran out of the practice yard. “What does he think I am, his personal assistant!? ...And what was that golden glow…?” She muttered that last bit under her breath.

Akio gave her a careful look. “I... could take it if you don't-”

She gave him a punch on his arm, and stormed off the field herself. “He's going to get himself into trouble, isn't he…”

Hours later and Logan found himself slumped back into his chair half-listening to the most boring meeting he could’ve imagined. The new group of Ishgardian leaders were sitting around the table chatting away about various politics. More changes or policies that had to be thought of following the end of the war, or something like that. Logan had stopped paying attention mere minutes into the meeting.

He knew the others often complained about how much the Warriors of Light were abused for menial tasks, but he'd never thought it was that bad. Not until now, anyway. He wanted to do something. Not sit around, he wanted a fight. That's what he was good at, right? He was, after all, a Warrior of Light. He needed to take something on, head to head, fight it, win. Like that Ishgardian knight at the door. He could beat him. He could rip him apart. Into shreds, literally, sink his blade into him and watch him-

“Logan!?”

Aymeric’s startled voice snapped Logan back to attention, and he found he was leaning far over the table, fists clenched, staring at the knight at the door, who, even with his helmet on, looked terrified.

“Wh... what?” Logan stuttered, leaning back in his chair, wondering what had just happened. “What were we talking about?”

There was a brief pause before Aymeric slowly continued. “We were just talking about how it might do some good for you to make an appearance at-”

“An appearance!?” Logan snapped back, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands down on the table. “I sat here for hours just so you could announce that I'm to be paraded around again!?”

His anger leapt back to a boiling point, and a part of him wondered why he was so angry, but most of him didn't care. He was so tired of being looked at, shown off, doing menial tasks. He was a hero! Not a trophy!

“I… I simply thought-” Aymeric tried to respond, but Logan cut him off.

“Yeah, I bet you did. Forget it, I'm going home.”

And with that, Logan spun and left the room, giving one more terrifying glare to the knight at the door, who visibly recoiled. Logan's laugh echoed through the room as the door swing shut behind him.

Aymeric turned to Lucia. “See if you can track down the Wanderers. Something is not right here.”

The trusted knight nodded and she quickly hurried off through the door as well, while Aymeric began to try and smooth things over with the others.

“He did what!?” Cherise exclaimed.

“I know, that’s why I came looking for you,” Lucia confirmed with a solemn nod. “I thought you might be able to, er, handle him.”

Cherise stormed past the taller woman. “I’m gonna punch his brains out! What an idiot! What was he thinking!?” She stopped suddenly and spun around. “Wait, where did he say he was going?”

Lucia blinked, unsure how to handle the raging redhead. “Um. ‘Home’ I believe is what he said.”

Cherise didn’t move for a moment, thoughts racing, and then she spun on her heel and ran off again. “Oh hells, this might be bad.” As an afterthought, she looked over her shoulder back at Lucia. “Oh, and thanks!”

Lucia sighed and began walking back to the meeting room. “Siblings,” she muttered with a small shake of her head and just the slightest hint of a smile.

“Hello?” Cherise called into the currently empty house belonging to Awoken Wanderers.

Their headquarters in the Mist had been somewhat abandoned after the events in Ul’dah, and with the Dragonsong War going on in Ishgard they hadn’t had time to reassemble everyone and get it up and running again. A few of them still lived here however, though they often spent most of their time away. But if Logan was headed “home”, this is where Cherise believed he’d end up.

No one answered her call however, so she opened the door leading to the private rooms, found Logan’s, and knocked. “Logan, are you in there?”

The door opened and Aiko stood in the doorway, holding a bedsheet up to her otherwise naked body. “Oh!” Cherise immediately took a step back and looked at the ceiling.

“Yeeees?” The Miqo’te asked, her voice a bit airy.

Cherise cleared her throat but continued, avoiding looking forward. “Um. Did, uh, Logan come here?” The answer seemed obvious, but she asked anyway.

“Yes. He. Did,” Aiko answered, as if answering an entirely different question.

“Ooookay, nope, oh gods, no, no,” Cherise shook her head and stepped away from the doorway, pointing past Aiko and into the room. “No, go put clothes on, I need to talk to you and this isn’t working, or happening, just. Oh Twelve, no.”

Aiko laughed a little as Cherise made a few gagging noises, but did indeed go back inside and shut the door.

“List of things I did not need to see or hear or imagine, ugh…” Cherise muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead as if it may remove the memory from her mind as she walked back to the main room of the house.

A few moments later Aiko reappeared looking back to her full senses, and fully clothed, much to Cherise’s relief. “Alright Cherise, what’s wrong?” She asked.

The Hyur crossed her arms and scowled. “Well you saw Logan didn’t you? Isn’t there something wrong with him? Acting oddly?”

“Well I was a bit distracted,” Aiko said, the slightest hint of a purr in her voice bringing out another gag from Cherise. “Though I do have to admit there did seem something a bit odd about him. And familiar, too, actually… I can’t place it though… What's going on with him anyway?”

“He…” Cherise hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “He used a technique called Blood of the Dragon, which usually uses power from Nidhogg’s eye. But he never interacted with them, not enough. So… he used Bahamut’s aether instead.”

Aiko’s eyes widened. “That's what felt familiar! He was practically drowning in Bahamut's aether! Cherise that could be incredibly dangerous!”

“No shit!” Cherise flung out her arms. “What do you think I'm doing!? Now did he say where he was going when he left?

Aiko hummed, tapping a finger against her lips. “Mmm… No… I think he mentioned he was hungry though?”

“Oh boy…” Cherise groaned. “There’s only one place in all La Noscea he’ll go if he’s hungry.”

“The Drowning Wench,” they said together.

Cherise and Aiko weren’t even halfway up the stairs to the second level of Limsa Lominsa when they heard the fighting. They didn’t even trade a glance before charging up the stairs. When they turned the corner the Drowning Wench was living up to its namesake, ale covered the floor, at least three men were unconscious, a pair of barmaids were hiding behind their serving trays, and Baderon came up from behind the bar to spot the two women.

Right in the center of the brawl, which consisted of at least ten men and a few women, was Logan. He was unarmoured and unarmed, but attacking anyone who came too close like a rabid, cornered animal.

“You two!” Baderon called out, gesturing to the pair. “Ge’ o’er here!”

Without hesitation Cherise and Aiko slipped along the wall and jumped the bar, crouching down next to Baderon.

“Wha’ in th’ seven ‘ells is goin’ on wit’ yer brother?” Baderon demanded of Cherise.

“Long story,” she answered. “What happened?”

“No idea. One momen’ e’ry thing was fine, an’ then bam! Chaos like I 'aven’t seen since th’ Calamity!”

“Okay, well stay down, we'll handle him.”

“Gladly!”

Aiko turned to Cherise. “How do we even stop… whatever this is?”

Cherise paused. “I’m… not sure. Usually it takes some effort to keep it up, and I never told him how. I’m not sure how he’s kept it going so long…”

“I could be the first to tell you that if he’s channeling Bahamut he could be going for awhile,” Aiko explained, pulling out her tome and flipping through some pages.

“Great, so what, just tie him down until he calms down?” Cherise asked as she heard a heavy thud that must've been a combatant dropping unconscious.

“Mmm, as much as I might like that-”

“Do not.”

“-I think I might be able to put him in a trance and possibly siphon it off.” Aiko pointed to a page of her tome, but Cherise didn't understand a thing on it. “But you will still need to knock him down. I'll need time.”

“Knocking down I can do,” Cherise nodded, punching a fist into her palm. “Get ready.”

With that, Cherise jumped up on the bar and shouted. “Hey! Logan! You want a fight, I'm right here!”

The fight paused and Cherise got a closer look at her brother. There was a faint glow of orange and gold, the effects of Bahamut's aether. But worse was the savage look in Logan's eyes, a look that did not belong to him. It hurt to see, but only steeled her resolve. The other fighters broke off, sensing a battle they shouldn't be a part of, and Logan stared down Cherise. A calm silence came over the tavern as everyone waited to see what would happen.

Then both of them dashed forward. Cherise slammed into Logan, but he caught her by the shoulders and simply slid back, growling and then tossing her across the rest of the room. She skittered to a halt on all fours, wiping her hands of the ale on her jacket. He shouted wordlessly and charged at her again, but she sidestepped him, grabbed his shoulder, and threw him into the wall. He smashed into it, bounced off of it, turned with a snarl, and took a fist to the face. Just like that Logan was laid down flat on the floor.

“Aiko, now!” Cherise shouted.

Aiko leapt over the bar, held out one hand, and muttered incantations from the book she held in the other. The golden-orange glow representing Bahamut’s aether flowed from Logan and into Aiko’s outstretched palm. She squeezed it shut and the aether dissipated.

Cherise kneeled down by her brother and checked his breathing. “Did it work?” It was even, he seemed okay.

“I think so,” Aiko said, sounding unsure. “I mean, it did what it was supposed to do, but whether it worked to keep him from being… whatever that was, we won’t know until he wakes up.”

Cherise sighed and nodded. “Well, help me get him back home then. We wouldn’t want him to break out of the inn rooms and terrorize the bar patrons again.”

Baderon, now back on his feet and turning tables back upright looked up at Cherise and nodded. “Aye, get ‘im ‘ome, I can take care o’ things ‘ere. Twelve knows ‘e’s done loads for us, a messy bar ain’t nothin’.”

Logan stirred and sat up. His head felt like paste, that his brain was flopping about inside his skull. What had happened anyway? Last thing he remembered was storming out of the meeting in Ishgard.

“He’s awake!” Aiko’s voice called, though Logan refused to open his eyes just yet.

“How is he?” Cherise’s voice called back from somewhere further away.

“Stop yelling…” Logan complained, attempting to wave his hand at them but finding lifting his arm to be somewhat difficult.

The next thing he felt was Aiko’s cool hand stroke the side of his face. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked softly.

“No… What hit me…?” Logan mumbled.

“That was Cherise,” Aiko said with a hint of laughter to her voice. “But you’re okay? You don’t feel um… Like you want to pick a fight or anything?”

“What? No, the thought of that just makes my head hurt more…” Logan groaned.

Lips touched his forehead. “Good. Then lay here and rest.”

“But what happened? I don’t remember anything after the meeting…” Logan insisted.

He heard someone enter the room, and Cherise’s voice was heard again, much closer. “I think it was the blood of the dragon skill… I think Bahamut’s aether took you over or something. The ability is supposed to give you extra power and combat instincts, but it does mean giving a bit of yourself over to the primal instincts of the dragon. I guess in your case it was just too much…”

Logan felt the bed sink a little as Cherise must’ve sat down next to him. “So… so what… happened…?” He almost didn’t want to know, and felt his stomach sinking.

“Well…” Cherise started. “You stormed out of the meeting in Ishgard enough to scare half the people in the room and insult the other half.” Logan groaned. “Then you came here and, uh…”

There was an awkward pause and Logan swore he felt the bed shake a little.

“You spent some time with me,” Aiko said simply, her tone pleased, though Logan felt immense disapproval from Cherise, even without seeing her.

Cherise cleared her throat. “Then you went to the Drowning Wench where you, apparently, ate more than Baderon’s seen a man eat, save for a 'starving bilgerat’, then no one’s quite sure what happened, but a fight broke out, you knocked four people unconscious - yes, they’ll be fine - and I had to smash your head into a wall to knock you out and let Aiko pull some of Bahamut’s aether off of you.”

Logan swallowed deeply. “I… did all that?” He started to shake his head but thought better of it immediately. “Just because of that dragoon ability?”

“I…” Cherise started.

“It seems so,” Aiko confirmed. “As someone with experience, Bahamut’s aether is not to be taken lightly. You just weren’t prepared. I can help you with it, if you want.”

“...Sure…” Logan said, not sounding sure at all.

There was a brief silence. “Get some rest,” Cherise said softly, and Logan felt her fingers brush his hair.

“We’ll be nearby if you need anything,” Aiko confirmed, planting her lips upon his forehead once more.

“Okay.”

Logan listened to them leave. He’d be impressed at their ability to work together, but he was far too distracted by his missing memories and the story Cherise had just told him. He’d spent so much time rebuilding their reputation after Ul’dah, and now this. Could he even truly manage the power of the dragoon if this was a possible result? Was it responsible of him to even try? He’d been so scared of Bahamut both in the past and present, even if he had overcome much of his fear. Despite his insistence to no longer act out of fear, maybe this was one act of caution he should heed.

Maybe he should just give up on becoming a dragoon.

[godswritingfreak]

Primal Instincts

Verse: Final Fantasy XIV Characters: Logan Holden, Cherise Holden, Aiko Slanda, Akio Conley

“Try it again,” Cherise said.

Logan gripped his Lance, closed his eyes, and tried to find the power of the Eye flowing from his crystal. He tried to find that draconic power. He could see it, but whenever he tried to reach for it, it slid away. Like it was scared of him. Or maybe he was scared of it.

Logan inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped open. He looked at Cherise who shook her head.

“Nothing.”

He sighed and planted his lance on the ground with more force than necessary. “What am I doing wrong? I can see it, I know what I’m supposed to do, but it’s not working! The crystal even showed me!”

Beside his sister stood Akio, one of the Wanderers’ other Dragoons, one who had been at this longer than either of them. The three stood together in a training area for Ishgardian knights, graciously offered to them by Aymeric, as long as they followed the same rules and scheduled their time like every other training group.

The towering Au Ra turned Cherise aside for a moment, the two talking low enough that Logan couldn’t overhear much.

“…Only way…”

“No… to him…”

“Cherise…”

“…Don’t like…”

They paused, and Cherise sighed and turned back to Logan. “I’m going to ask you to do something you’re not going to like.”

Logan frowned. “What?”

She seemed pained to respond. “We think you need to tap into your connection with Bahamut. Whatever happened to you during the Calamity, and later when we found him in Dalamud’s ruins…”

“We think you have a connection stronger to him than Nidhogg’s eye,” Akio finished, as Cherise trailed off. “The crystal shows you only a connection to the Eye, but you might need something else. Try it.”

Logan looked from Akio to Cherise. His sister wouldn’t look at him. He had been a lot better around dragons since they’d faced Bahamut, that was true. He’d faced off against Nidhogg, and argued with Hraesvalgr, become a linchpin in the Dragonsong War. But he was still afraid. Maybe that was why he couldn’t reach the power. It wasn’t moving away from him, maybe he was moving away from it.

“Okay,” he said finally, taking a deep breath. “I’ll try it.”

Cherise finally looked up at him and they shared a glance. She didn’t really want him to, he didn’t have to. He assured her it was fine, he wanted to try, he wanted this to work. She relented. All in a glance. Having a twin sister had its perks sometimes.

He closed his eyes again, lance gripped tight and held at the ready. Once again he could see the power, but he largely ignored it. Instead he looked around for something else, for that fear he’d felt when he first laid eyes on Bahamut. He found it, circling above, as if waiting for him to notice. He reached for it, but it snapped at him, and Logan drew back. He could see it now though, he was the one retreating, not the power, he was scared, afraid of this primal essence and of letting it in. This was far more than facing a foe on the battlefield.

But… had he not determined to stop letting fear sway him from moving forward? No, he had to do this. Logan reached out again, and when Bahamut struck out at him, Logan found a spear in his hand and struck back. Bahamut melted into a glowing essence that overtook his spear, then his arm, then flowed over him completely.

Logan’s eyes snapped open. He could feel the new energy swirling around him, and he looked over at Cherise and Akio. Their eyes were wide, surprised.

“What?” Logan asked.

“You did it!” Akio said with a grin.

“I can’t believe that worked…” Cherise breathed. She then took a moment to compose herself and spoke louder. “Okay, now try to focus all that into a jump on a target. You should find that you can hit it much-”

Before she could even finish, Logan leapt into the air, then came flying back down, his spear ripping through the practice dummy on the other side of the training ground. He leapt back and landed smoothly, took a moment to ensure everything felt okay, then looked back at his dragoon mentors.

“Like that? That definitely felt stronger!” He said excitedly.

“Yes!” Akio exclaimed, and seemed overjoyed that Logan had managed to progress.

Cherise looked more unsure however. “Yeah, pretty much that. There’s more to it, but keep practicing that. The crystal will show you more when you’re ready for it. For now, go take a break.”

Logan blinked. A break? But he just- “Wait, what time is it?” He asked suddenly.

“Why? I mean…” Cherise looked into the sky. “Not far past noon?”

“Ooh, I gotta go!” Logan said, running past both of them, practically tossing his spear to Cherise on his way past. “Meeting thing they wanted me at, Warrior of Light stuff!”

“Logan, wait a second!” Cherise called after him, but he just gave her a wave and ran out of the practice yard. “What does he think I am, his personal assistant!? …And what was that golden glow…?” She muttered that last bit under her breath.

Akio gave her a careful look. “I… could take it if you don’t-”

She gave him a punch on his arm, and stormed off the field herself. “He’s going to get himself into trouble, isn’t he…”

Hours later and Logan found himself slumped back into his chair half-listening to the most boring meeting he could’ve imagined. The new group of Ishgardian leaders were sitting around the table chatting away about various politics. More changes or policies that had to be thought of following the end of the war, or something like that. Logan had stopped paying attention mere minutes into the meeting.

He knew the others often complained about how much the Warriors of Light were abused for menial tasks, but he’d never thought it was that bad. Not until now, anyway. He wanted to do something. Not sit around, he wanted a fight. That’s what he was good at, right? He was, after all, a Warrior of Light. He needed to take something on, head to head, fight it, win. Like that Ishgardian knight at the door. He could beat him. He could rip him apart. Into shreds, literally, sink his blade into him and watch him-

“Logan!?”

Aymeric’s startled voice snapped Logan back to attention, and he found he was leaning far over the table, fists clenched, staring at the knight at the door, who, even with his helmet on, looked terrified.

“Wh… what?” Logan stuttered, leaning back in his chair, wondering what had just happened. “What were we talking about?”

There was a brief pause before Aymeric slowly continued. “We were just talking about how it might do some good for you to make an appearance at-”

“An appearance!?” Logan snapped back, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands down on the table. “I sat here for hours just so you could announce that I’m to be paraded around again!?”

His anger leapt back to a boiling point, and a part of him wondered why he was so angry, but most of him didn’t care. He was so tired of being looked at, shown off, doing menial tasks. He was a hero! Not a trophy!

“I… I simply thought-” Aymeric tried to respond, but Logan cut him off.

“Yeah, I bet you did. Forget it, I’m going home.”

And with that, Logan spun and left the room, giving one more terrifying glare to the knight at the door, who visibly recoiled. Logan’s laugh echoed through the room as the door swing shut behind him.

Aymeric turned to Lucia. “See if you can track down the Wanderers. Something is not right here.”

The trusted knight nodded and she quickly hurried off through the door as well, while Aymeric began to try and smooth things over with the others.

“He did what!?” Cherise exclaimed.

“I know, that’s why I came looking for you,” Lucia confirmed with a solemn nod. “I thought you might be able to, er, handle him.”

Cherise stormed past the taller woman. “I’m gonna punch his brains out! What an idiot! What was he thinking!?” She stopped suddenly and spun around. “Wait, where did he say he was going?”

Lucia blinked, unsure how to handle the raging redhead. “Um. ‘Home’ I believe is what he said.”

Cherise didn’t move for a moment, thoughts racing, and then she spun on her heel and ran off again. “Oh hells, this might be bad.” As an afterthought, she looked over her shoulder back at Lucia. “Oh, and thanks!”

Lucia sighed and began walking back to the meeting room. “Siblings,” she muttered with a small shake of her head and just the slightest hint of a smile.

“Hello?” Cherise called into the currently empty house belonging to Awoken Wanderers.

Their headquarters in the Mist had been somewhat abandoned after the events in Ul’dah, and with the Dragonsong War going on in Ishgard they hadn’t had time to reassemble everyone and get it up and running again. A few of them still lived here however, though they often spent most of their time away. But if Logan was headed “home”, this is where Cherise believed he’d end up.

No one answered her call however, so she opened the door leading to the private rooms, found Logan’s, and knocked. “Logan, are you in there?”

The door opened and Aiko stood in the doorway, holding a bedsheet up to her otherwise naked body. “Oh!” Cherise immediately took a step back and looked at the ceiling.

“Yeeees?” The Miqo’te asked, her voice a bit airy.

Cherise cleared her throat but continued, avoiding looking forward. “Um. Did, uh, Logan come here?” The answer seemed obvious, but she asked anyway.

“Yes. He. Did,” Aiko answered, as if answering an entirely different question.

“Ooookay, nope, oh gods, no, no,” Cherise shook her head and stepped away from the doorway, pointing past Aiko and into the room. “No, go put clothes on, I need to talk to you and this isn’t working, or happening, just. Oh Twelve, no.”

Aiko laughed a little as Cherise made a few gagging noises, but did indeed go back inside and shut the door.

“List of things I did not need to see or hear or imagine, ugh…” Cherise muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead as if it may remove the memory from her mind as she walked back to the main room of the house.

A few moments later Aiko reappeared looking back to her full senses, and fully clothed, much to Cherise’s relief. “Alright Cherise, what’s wrong?” She asked.

The Hyur crossed her arms and scowled. “Well you saw Logan didn’t you? Isn’t there something wrong with him? Acting oddly?”

“Well I was a bit distracted,” Aiko said, the slightest hint of a purr in her voice bringing out another gag from Cherise. “Though I do have to admit there did seem something a bit odd about him. And familiar, too, actually… I can’t place it though… What’s going on with him anyway?”

“He…” Cherise hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “He used a technique called Blood of the Dragon, which usually uses power from Nidhogg’s eye. But he never interacted with them, not enough. So… he used Bahamut’s aether instead.”

Aiko’s eyes widened. “That’s what felt familiar! He was practically drowning in Bahamut’s aether! Cherise that could be incredibly dangerous!”

“No shit!” Cherise flung out her arms. “What do you think I’m doing!? Now did he say where he was going when he left?

Aiko hummed, tapping a finger against her lips. “Mmm… No… I think he mentioned he was hungry though?”

“Oh boy…” Cherise groaned. “There’s only one place in all La Noscea he’ll go if he’s hungry.”

“The Drowning Wench,” they said together.

Cherise and Aiko weren’t even halfway up the stairs to the second level of Limsa Lominsa when they heard the fighting. They didn’t even trade a glance before charging up the stairs. When they turned the corner the Drowning Wench was living up to its namesake, ale covered the floor, at least three men were unconscious, a pair of barmaids were hiding behind their serving trays, and Baderon came up from behind the bar to spot the two women.

Right in the center of the brawl, which consisted of at least ten men and a few women, was Logan. He was unarmoured and unarmed, but attacking anyone who came too close like a rabid, cornered animal.

“You two!” Baderon called out, gesturing to the pair. “Ge’ o’er here!”

Without hesitation Cherise and Aiko slipped along the wall and jumped the bar, crouching down next to Baderon.

“Wha’ in th’ seven ‘ells is goin’ on wit’ yer brother?” Baderon demanded of Cherise.

“Long story,” she answered. “What happened?”

“No idea. One momen’ e’ry thing was fine, an’ then bam! Chaos like I ‘aven’t seen since th’ Calamity!”

“Okay, well stay down, we’ll handle him.”

“Gladly!”

Aiko turned to Cherise. “How do we even stop… whatever this is?”

Cherise paused. “I’m… not sure. Usually it takes some effort to keep it up, and I never told him how. I’m not sure how he’s kept it going so long…”

“I could be the first to tell you that if he’s channeling Bahamut he could be going for awhile,” Aiko explained, pulling out her tome and flipping through some pages.

“Great, so what, just tie him down until he calms down?” Cherise asked as she heard a heavy thud that must’ve been a combatant dropping unconscious.

“Mmm, as much as I might like that-”

“Do not.”

“-I think I might be able to put him in a trance and possibly siphon it off.” Aiko pointed to a page of her tome, but Cherise didn’t understand a thing on it. “But you will still need to knock him down. I’ll need time.”

“Knocking down I can do,” Cherise nodded, punching a fist into her palm. “Get ready.”

With that, Cherise jumped up on the bar and shouted. “Hey! Logan! You want a fight, I’m right here!”

The fight paused and Cherise got a closer look at her brother. There was a faint glow of orange and gold, the effects of Bahamut’s aether. But worse was the savage look in Logan’s eyes, a look that did not belong to him. It hurt to see, but only steeled her resolve. The other fighters broke off, sensing a battle they shouldn’t be a part of, and Logan stared down Cherise. A calm silence came over the tavern as everyone waited to see what would happen.

Then both of them dashed forward. Cherise slammed into Logan, but he caught her by the shoulders and simply slid back, growling and then tossing her across the rest of the room. She skittered to a halt on all fours, wiping her hands of the ale on her jacket. He shouted wordlessly and charged at her again, but she sidestepped him, grabbed his shoulder, and threw him into the wall. He smashed into it, bounced off of it, turned with a snarl, and took a fist to the face. Just like that Logan was laid down flat on the floor.

“Aiko, now!” Cherise shouted.

Aiko leapt over the bar, held out one hand, and muttered incantations from the book she held in the other. The golden-orange glow representing Bahamut’s aether flowed from Logan and into Aiko’s outstretched palm. She squeezed it shut and the aether dissipated.

Cherise kneeled down by her brother and checked his breathing. “Did it work?” It was even, he seemed okay.

“I think so,” Aiko said, sounding unsure. “I mean, it did what it was supposed to do, but whether it worked to keep him from being… whatever that was, we won’t know until he wakes up.”

Cherise sighed and nodded. “Well, help me get him back home then. We wouldn’t want him to break out of the inn rooms and terrorize the bar patrons again.”

Baderon, now back on his feet and turning tables back upright looked up at Cherise and nodded. “Aye, get ‘im ‘ome, I can take care o’ things ‘ere. Twelve knows ‘e’s done loads for us, a messy bar ain’t nothin’.”

Logan stirred and sat up. His head felt like paste, that his brain was flopping about inside his skull. What had happened anyway? Last thing he remembered was storming out of the meeting in Ishgard.

“He’s awake!” Aiko’s voice called, though Logan refused to open his eyes just yet.

“How is he?” Cherise’s voice called back from somewhere further away.

“Stop yelling…” Logan complained, attempting to wave his hand at them but finding lifting his arm to be somewhat difficult.

The next thing he felt was Aiko’s cool hand stroke the side of his face. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked softly.

“No… What hit me…?” Logan mumbled.

“That was Cherise,” Aiko said with a hint of laughter to her voice. “But you’re okay? You don’t feel um… Like you want to pick a fight or anything?”

“What? No, the thought of that just makes my head hurt more…” Logan groaned.

Lips touched his forehead. “Good. Then lay here and rest.”

“But what happened? I don’t remember anything after the meeting…” Logan insisted.

He heard someone enter the room, and Cherise’s voice was heard again, much closer. “I think it was the blood of the dragon skill… I think Bahamut’s aether took you over or something. The ability is supposed to give you extra power and combat instincts, but it does mean giving a bit of yourself over to the primal instincts of the dragon. I guess in your case it was just too much…”

Logan felt the bed sink a little as Cherise must’ve sat down next to him. “So… so what… happened…?” He almost didn’t want to know, and felt his stomach sinking.

“Well…” Cherise started. “You stormed out of the meeting in Ishgard enough to scare half the people in the room and insult the other half.” Logan groaned. “Then you came here and, uh…”

There was an awkward pause and Logan swore he felt the bed shake a little.

“You spent some time with me,” Aiko said simply, her tone pleased, though Logan felt immense disapproval from Cherise, even without seeing her.

Cherise cleared her throat. “Then you went to the Drowning Wench where you, apparently, ate more than Baderon’s seen a man eat, save for a 'starving bilgerat’, then no one’s quite sure what happened, but a fight broke out, you knocked four people unconscious - yes, they’ll be fine - and I had to smash your head into a wall to knock you out and let Aiko pull some of Bahamut’s aether off of you.”

Logan swallowed deeply. “I… did all that?” He started to shake his head but thought better of it immediately. “Just because of that dragoon ability?”

“I…” Cherise started.

“It seems so,” Aiko confirmed. “As someone with experience, Bahamut’s aether is not to be taken lightly. You just weren’t prepared. I can help you with it, if you want.”

“…Sure…” Logan said, not sounding sure at all.

There was a brief silence. “Get some rest,” Cherise said softly, and Logan felt her fingers brush his hair.

“We’ll be nearby if you need anything,” Aiko confirmed, planting her lips upon his forehead once more.

“Okay.”

Logan listened to them leave. He’d be impressed at their ability to work together, but he was far too distracted by his missing memories and the story Cherise had just told him. He’d spent so much time rebuilding their reputation after Ul’dah, and now this. Could he even truly manage the power of the dragoon if this was a possible result? Was it responsible of him to even try? He’d been so scared of Bahamut both in the past and present, even if he had overcome much of his fear. Despite his insistence to no longer act out of fear, maybe this was one act of caution he should heed.

Maybe he should just give up on becoming a dragoon.

[animefiginfo]

Kotobukiya released the Dark Angel Olivia Exclusive Twin Tails Version 1/8 PVC figure from the game “Rage of Bahamut” published by Cygames. Around 290mm tall, 240mm tall to the head (with horns), 290mm wide.

Was first released at Wonder Festival 2014 [Summer] on July 27, 2014 for 12,778 yen ($111.61). Online orders were released December 6, 2014 for 13,800 yen ($120.54).

Bootlegs

[rakuza]

Blog roll - alternate

I’ve made several changes through the life of this blog and I’ve acquired several new followers so I believe that it’s time for an actual updated blog roll. This time, however, it will be of my side blogs because these days, I am playing and roleplaying those characters more often. Despite that, this will still be the main blog and all follows, likes, and asks will come from here. One of them, I have showcased before. Here they are without further ado. Please note that all characters below are on the Balmung server.

Shawn Greyson

Free Paladin, Grey Mage, Weaponsmith Hyur Midlander, Ul’dahn-born and raised @goringblade​

Growing up in a life full of expectations, Shawn did not grow up as his parents expected him to be. Because of the family’s superstitions when it came to mere difference in eye color, every single thing was thrown at Shawn to see where his talents were at. When it was discovered that he excelled in combat, particularly with the sword and shield, his parents highly disapproved and thus began Shawn’s life into becoming disconnected with them. When his father died at Carteneau during The Calamity, he left Ul’dah to see the rest of Eorzea. He returned only to enlist in The Immortal Flames, much to the chagrin of his mother. His normally quiet and stoic demeanor would gradually change as he began to meet people. He’d discover truths about himself, others, and even what it’s like to be with someone else. He was also tricked by his mother to supposedly learn thaumaturgy (It wasn’t just thaumaturgy), which subsequently lead him to find balance in learning the healing arts of conjury. This deception, however, further drove him away from his mother. Despite all that, he is first and foremost a swordsman with a slight saviour complex. He is assertive but friendly to those he meets.

Leif Steele

Brawler, knife-edge, student of Shinobi, freelancer Mixed Hyur heritage (mid- & highlander), Ala Mhigan born and raised @themenofsteele

Leif (along with his twin brother Landon) was only one year young when Garlemald occupied Ala Mhigo. Despite the hardships his parents have endured during that time, Leif and Landon (and also their younger brother Liam) lead as normal a childhood as possible. Their father was a man considered to be a weapons master and so when the Steele boys were able, they were all taught an art from the disciples of war. Leif was taught the art of the rogue. At the same time, a family friend who was secretly a Fist of Rhalgr Monk began training Leif as a teenager as they lived in the hills of Gyr Abania. Due to Garlemald’s continued oppression, The Steeles were forced to leave their home behind and head west through the mountains of Xelphatol and into Coerthas. The parents left their three sons to fend for themselves and were told to head south while the parents headed north and west. (They’d later find out that this was a test of sorts, to see the sort of men the boys will become without their guidance.) Of the three Steele brothers, Leif is the voice of reason. This is something he is rather proud of and has gotten himself and his brothers out of trouble thanks to this. For a short time, however, he was becoming a bit of a disciplinarian towards his own brothers with the mentality that someone had to be “Pa” and neither Landon nor Liam would do it. This later dissolved as it brought discord towards the brothers.

Scott Sullivan

Cursed swordsman, reluctant inheritor, reluctant businessman Hyur Midlander, Ul’dahn-born and raised @midnightshading

Lead a somewhat sheltered life with a silver spoon, Scott was a modest but obedient boy. As a child, he finished all his academics with nary an oversight and read all books he was required to read (and more) and was diligent in anything thrown his way as far as academics go. Because of his quiet and lone wolf nature, he did not make any friends growing up. While growing up, he was being educated in a way so that he would inherit the supply distribution business that his family ran once the time came. Additionally, however, his mother and father were soldiers for The Immortal Flames. His mother was a field medic and his father was a front lines captain and they would no doubt take part in The Battle of Carteneau. His parents would meet an unfortunate end of passing away in The Flames infirmary several bells after their return. This spelled the beginning of his despair. A few days later, his grandfather passes of old age. And the next day, he would become the victim of infidelity. That same day, a Flames officer came over to the Sullivan Estate to give Scott a box. Accepting and opening this box spelled some beginnings for the man, for he believes that what was in it (and now possesses) is a curse. He recalled the stories that his grandfather has told him and things began to become clear. He, however, still believes he is cursed. His personal butler and retainer helps him however he can to ‘control’ this curse and tries to live life as much as possible. He can appear rather cold and stand-offish to strangers but those who get to know Scott will find that he is a man who yearns to live his life as best as possible.

Everett Mercer

Aether researcher, Allagan hobbyist, “arcanist” Hyur Midlander, Limsan-born and raised @earthen-fury

Born into a working class family in Limsa Lominsa, Everett grew up an active child. He was into aquatic sports activities and music and grew up being exposed to them. (This was mainly done to keep him out of trouble.) As he grew older, however, he himself and his parents discovered that he had aetheric talents and immediately enrolled him into the Arcanists’ Guild when he was only thirteen namedays. He also secretly enrolled in the Marauders’ Guild, much to the dismay of his parents. Everett lost his mother to The Calamity doing what she loved doing as a fellow mender in the city’s infirmaries and was caught in the destruction wrought by the elder primal Bahamut’s rage. Everett believed that he could have protected his mother and this set him on a path in search for power and how to acquire it. His now single father has yet to be made aware of Everett’s endeavors and how dangerous it may be. During his treks to Mor Dhona while aiding the Sons of Saint Coinach, he secretly found a relic that has allowed him to augment his abilities as a well-studied arcanist. It was during this trek that he discovered a fascination for anything Allagan-related. Everett is a friendly, flirty, but generous man with a streak of a daredevil in him. He has escaped death several times thanks to some “help” he gets and prefers to be around people who have a positive outlook in life.