#so its nice to see that stormblood keeps doing the same thing

[waffliesinyoface]

"I don't know if that 'storm of blood' is finally upon us."

*looks at the title of the expansion*

uh oh, lyse!!! uh oh!!!!!!!!!

[crowdsourcedloner]

(from sealrock)

21 and B for the uncommon questions meme :D

21. Why do they get up in the morning?

Nailah gets up to keep busy. She doesn't sleep well most nights and, rather than staring at a wall for a few more hours, she gets up and starts idly taking care of whatever chores are undone around her. She's been caught sweeping, sorting, and making breakfast for any companions that might be awake at the same time as her.

In a more metaphorical sense... she doesn't know. She believed her only purpose was to be the Warrior of Light and save everyone, but now that all that's done... what purpose is there for her in a saved world? It bothers her more than she wants to admit, leading to her losing even more sleep and taking up an excessive amount of Hunt bounties in between story beats, causing her to disappear for long stretches of time.

B) What inspired you to create them?

short answer: i initially made my characters for a mechanical purpose rather than for the sake of making stories about them, but things got out of hand repeatedly when i was easily distracted by story ideas and aesthetic desires...

long answer: lets break this down by character

nohku (relevant to others though she technically no longer exists)

started as the generic fantasy orphan backstory, was my only character for a long time

inspired by wondering about mooncat lore in the shroud and thinking about what would happen should the ixal summon garuda near a mooncat settlement

she was... really all over the place aesthetically and personality wise so i did what hydaelyn would want and sundered her into other characters rather than throw everything out (each of my current characters has parts of her previous aesthetics/personalities/stories)

scrapped due to wanting 1. more consistent characterization 2. a more unique face/race without modding and 3. to one day see a catboy be carried in the arms of a large lion lady

yomi

originally made as a throwaway pf savage healer alt, only to develop into a character to keep me entertained during msq

shes still stuck in stormblood

originally was nohku's post-endwalker apprentice

originally inspired by hingan housing items and ingame eastern fashion, since i couldn't find a satisfactory headcanon behind a hingan looking house in the middle of the lavender beds (where nohku's first house was) and i still wanted a hingan house/apartment since the furniture looks nice

aesthetics include flowers, shortbread cookies, mint, sunrises, and cold tea on a hot day - things that are refreshing and light

personality was made to be as bright and cheerful as possible with minimal trauma, as i tend to make characters have pretty terrible lives and i wanted to not do that again as a challenge

after going through mount rokkon and the four lords questline, i might push her into an auspice/onmyoji role? its a corner of the lore that interests me greatly and no other character really fits in to it...

zezene

originally made to help me learn how to play ffxiv on controller

personality was made to be loud and confident, and the idea of a somewhat benevolent conman/thief similar to robin hood intrigued me as i usually don't do shadier (or genuinely confident) characters

aesthetic inspirations include card tricks, sleight of hand, zidane's outfit, threatening smiles, and mischievous imps

i have yet to find good inspiration for their backstory... but it feels in character for them to not have a static backstory? like they change it every time someone asks? maybe an idea will come in the future

the idea of them taking in yomi and verre only came about once i was set on entirely eliminating nohku from lore

there was a scrapped inspiration of them having more voidsent connections, but this has been removed... for now

verre

originally created for the new server bonus on dynamis

originally had much more involvement in nohku's lore, as she was connected to nohku's father/mentor figure

personality was made to be an introverted engineer, but not really a shy one - someone who has more quiet confidence and knows what they're about without outside influence

aesthetic inspirations include still water, gears, timepieces, the smell of gun oil, the sound of a ticking clock, and glowing screens

also partly inspired by goblins, goblin technology, and general wonderings about the effects of outliving the people around you

there's a big time inspiration/motif that i've yet to really dig into, but its there

her lore developed the most suddenly out of all my characters, and i'd like to add more dalmascan influence/inspiration to her somehow

nailah

she's what nohku will be fanta/name changed into

originally inspired by wanting a less popular character race, as i was tired of seeing nohku clones on every corner and i figured having more concrete race lore could steer me towards more consistent character/personality

bozja and general hrothgar lore were fantastic food for her backstory, as it's inspired by wondering 'hey how can i make hrothgar lore backfire'

backstory is also partly inspired by wondering how neutral intentions can be horribly warped by auracite (technically done through her mother but the effects are relevant to nailah's character)

personality is inspired by defrosting ice queen tropes, the concept of 'masks', feral cats, and the sensation of distance

aesthetic inspirations include drifting smoke, foggy pine forests, cold ashes, hooded faces, and the sound of distant thunder

fordola's echo helped inspire nailah's echo, namely how they're both very sensitive and they somewhat force a sense of empathy on their people

more inspirations could come about in the future (such as ideas based on body tattoos/markings in character creator)

[druidquest]

i did enjoy dawntrail a lot, i agree that it works great as a standalone and i also really liked what they did with living memory as a set piece and concept, but i honestly thought the writers had a bad habit of playing things too safe, and their handling of some of the characters was pretty clumsy. bakool ja ja and zoraal ja got it the worst, but i also think they introduced sphene a bit too late for the way they were trying to tell her story.

honestly i think bakool ja ja's arc and the cooking competition in yak tel is a good example of the issues with dt's writing. if they knew they were planning to give him a heel-face turn in the section immediately following this and had only presented him as an unlikeable jackass until then, why wouldn't they use the cooking competition as a way to set that up? pairing wuk lamat with koana was certainly the easy route but it felt like such a wasted opportunity. we already know koana, we've already seen him in a positive light. this shouldve been the point where we learn more about bakool ja ja, see how wuk lamat handles working with people she can't get a long with, and give some depth to what has thus far been a pretty one-note antagonist. koana doesn't even do anything in this arc!! he gets paired with wuk lamat and then immediately gets shuffled off screen. it was such a waste. they pretty much just tell us to hate bakool ja ja up until the exact moment they want us to feel bad for him, which made the whole arc kind of a flop for me.

zoraal ja also desperately needed to get more attention. like any attention at all. hes pretty much nonexistent until the midpoint of the story, and even then you don't really see him until youre getting ready to kill him. i really felt like he needed more room to breathe. krile also felt like an afterthought pretty much every time she came up, and i personally did not really like the payoff for what i will skeptically refer to as her arc. but its krile, not getting enough screentime is just her way.

the solution nine arc was also just kind of awkward to me. i honestly feel dawntrail's back half is made worse by knowing what theyre referencing, because if youve already played 9 you just spend that whole arc watching dawntrail fumble the game's same themes while throwing in whole sequences and set pieces for nostalgia. and while i do like sphene, i found it grating how long they keep making you be nice to her after the first reveal and thought she felt like kind of a tired retread of the same ideas they presented with hades and meteion (and golbez i guess).

i do like dawntrail, i agree that its probably one of the better expansions even if it never quite reaches the same highs as some of the other stories. it just couldve been a lot better than it was. its very well presented, just not as well constructed. it has a lot of fun moments, great visual design, some nice ideas. it was a little sloppy in places, i can definitely see why some people might have felt the first half dragged even if i personally didnt mind it. i wouldnt put it on the same level as shadowbringers, i dont think its quite as consistent, but i would put it in the endwalker-stormblood range. ragtime mouse isnt in it though, so 0/10

@druidquest see it was very obvious to me throughout dawntrail that a lot of this was an epic previous final fantasy reference (i haven't meaningfully played any final fantasies besides fourteen) but unlike endwalker postgame being a bunch of ff4 nostalgia bait that falls flat if you haven't played that game (with a "hey you guys loved shadowbringers right, remember shadowbringers?" bonus round) dawntrail works perfectly well without ever having played final fantasy nine. it pays homage and references and builds upon both earlier expansions and earlier games but it's not trying to ride the coattails of a better story in order to have any meaningful emotional payoff it's just good on its own and probably enhanced by knowing the original context of the things it references.

i don't think it was clumsy at all, dawntrail has a laser focus on its themes and message from start to finish in a way that makes the digressions and silly little errands you inevitably get sent on to pad the space between major plot beats feel much less excessive and annoying than they did in every expansion before. and it's funny that you call it an amusement park ride because the final area being exactly that is extremely intentional, living memory is an artificial experience meant to bring joy and relief from everyday sadness and sphene is dressed in a tacky plastic looking dress because she's the theme park mascot princess that serves as the face of that artificial experience. saying it's just clumsy but heartfelt references and cool shit rather than an emotionally impactful and well written epic is massively underselling how well put together dawntrail is. it's at least as good as shadowbringers and endwalker and which one you think is better will come down purely to personal preference.

[faelune-home]

(fanfic) “how the guiding light wavers”

(A/N: I’ve had this in the works for a few weeks now. I first brought it up in this long post I wrote to establish character stuff, but this is the work that will finally make me feel a bit more secure in writing for my miqo’te girl. I’m aware it all sounds convoluted and bizarre to fixate on a name like this, but it was something that bothered me, and I’m the one actually doing the writing for my own character, so I do hope that this fic finally makes writing easier.

But alongside the name stuff, it’s also a larger look at where Fhara is emotionally throughout Shadowbringers I suppose. A little bit of where she’s come from and where she’s been so far and where she stands before entering Endwalker, so there’s at least a little bit more to this fic than just name shenanigans. XD

Name shenanigans and heroic title woes and legacy musings. All wrapped up in a complicated bow. Aha. I’ll probably do more Scion interaction focused additions on Fhara’s woes and worries later, especially since I had some in the original fic only to remove them as it was getting way too wordy, but this is the main meat of those feelings here and now.

Strong spoilers for the ending Stormblood patches and Shadowbringers, more so 5.0 and then just fleeting mentions of patch stuff. Set after 5.3.

Word count: 4760

Ao3 link)

When she set out from her home for Eorzea’s shores, she had a goal; to become a hero, and make her name known across the world. To be known as someone great and powerful, with monsters big and small bested at her hand, yet also someone kind and helpful, saving people and making their life a little bit easier. A lofty goal, but one she figured could be done, one small step at a time. After all, every adventurer started small.

Little did she know that her forays in Eorzea would grant her her desires, at a much faster rate than she anticipated; she joined the Scions, with their close ties to the city leaders and their own aims to protect the realm, and in gaining a reputation as a primal slayer, became known as a fabled Warrior of Light. A type of hero normally assigned to legend. It was everything she could have wanted and maybe even more than she could handle. It was a heavy title, but one she wore proudly, all while continuing as she had originally planned.

Yet as time passed, the weight grew heavier. There was still pride and joy in doing the right thing for the sake of others, protecting the innocent from those that would do them harm, but at some point, in the midst of the fighting, torn between Ascians and the Empire, despite doing the same thing she always did, her thoughts would wander to her original purpose in undertaking this grand adventure.

To become a figure of whom stories would be told, for those stories to return to her home and inspire the younger children, much like the old tales had inspired herself. To teach them to do good, to do better, to help others, to be brave, to be kind. An idealistic idea but one she held fast to. And by all accounts, fighting under the Warrior of Light title aided her even further in another aspect of her plans; to allow her to step back from the world once all is done and know peace when she hung up her bow and settled down.

When she set out from her home, she was ‘Fufu’; an old childhood nickname she’d long outgrown in her village, with the exception of her aunt, repurposed for her heroic exploits until the Warrior of Light title seemed to do the job better. Then in Eorzea, in the comfort of those she came to call a second family, she could be Fhara again. And it was nice, comforting even. To know that others knew her as more than just her heroic title, and that the Rising Stones could feel like a home so far away from home.

A home that was always filled with the sound of laughter or chatter, always someone socialising with a friend or partner, or busy working, the Rising Stones had all the energy and joy within its walls that she knew from her home, even with all the group had been through. To find that joy stripped out, the halls empty of people as her dearest friends collapsed into lifelessness and everyone else was left to fill in for their missing teammates…

For Fhara, it left her with no-one. But the Warrior of Light still had work to do.

The Warrior of Light had faced down conquerors, defeated dragons, set free thousands from the shackles of tyranny. But Fhara had never been alone in her feats, always with her companions at her side, or standing strong behind her, keeping the way clear for her, ready to back her up.

The Warrior of Light would go on to face Zenos that day in Ghimlyt Dark, the whispered tales from young inexperienced soldiers speaking how she almost pushed him back single handedly, with the famed Azure Dragoon jumping into the fray to assist her. In truth, Fhara stood alone on that battle field, facing a barely weakened, Ascian possessed corpse, the collapsed figures of her resistance comrades strewn behind her, she kept going until she herself blacked out under mysterious circumstances, only surviving by Estinien’s timely arrival.

Her recovery in Ishgard started her thinking, mixed in with the anxious waves of the mysterious caller’s words. The Warrior of Light would ever be revered for their acts, but as a single entity. Whereas Fhara, while capable on her own, worked best with a team, with her friends by her side. Working out a plan of attack together, or simply knowing they were there with her gave her strength. Yet standing on the field that day, the only thing giving her the strength to fight on was the desire to protect others, for if the Ascian controlling the fallen crown prince made it past her, Eorzea would no doubt suffer.

Then a stray thought...what gave her the strength to start doing all of this in the first place? What was her drive to begin with? It seemed so long ago…

‘Fufu’ had come all the many malms from a small village on the outskirts of Thavnair to become a hero, one that would have bard songs made about her for the sake of children’s tales. But the Warrior of Light had ultimately taken on that role. So what was the point of continuing to call herself ‘Fufu’ to the public? Was it just a habit by that point? A desire to hide herself behind an identity that both was and wasn’t her? After all, it was a nickname that had long been associated with her, and in the absence of any other ideas for an alias to call herself - oft teased as she was for her poor imagination for naming things - she had fallen to the easiest idea of her old childhood moniker.

Maybe it was time to move on from such childish notions? Her thoughts were neither bitter nor certain. The questions merely buzzed in her head as she left them unanswered.

She left the city with her golden hair cropped, a request asked of Jandelaine, met in passing before she left Ishgard behind her.

“It is a shame,” he’d said at the sight of her shorn twintail, the other loose from the hair tie, matted with blood and dirt, “But I can tidy it up and it’s like it never happened. A return to beauty and grace, just say the word.”

She could’ve kept it the same, and continued on as normal. But instead it was all gone. Because maybe a fresh start was what she needed?

~*~*~

The First was not a fresh start. At least not one Fhara was expecting. A land on the cusp of destruction, perpetually bathed in an unnatural eerie light, the people hunted by Sin Eaters, suffering either death or a torturous transformation in turn. She very quickly learned how terrifying, how desolate some corners of the land of Norvrandt could be, and she could well understand why, if people were living in such conditions.

Her first port of call in the strange new land was the oddly familiar gleaming tower, a recognisable pillar even against the hazy glowing sky. And within was the enigmatic Crystal Exarch, ready to greet her with open arms.

She had mixed feelings about the Exarch, on many points; having Called her friends and left their lifeless bodies back on the Source in an uncertain state, or even that Calling them was an accident in itself, since she herself was meant to be the target gave her no end of frustration toward the man. Even then with the knowledge that he hadn’t intended to summon the other Scions, the idea that he had wanted her to act alone in saving the First was one Fhara couldn’t help but balk at. 

Of course she was willing to help, she couldn’t stand seeing people suffer while she knew she could do something. But to think she would be able to handle the work singlehandedly was pure folly. In that way, perhaps it was a small relief then that she had the Scions to help her, unintentional was their presence on the First. Even with the uncertainty surrounding their summoning and the state of their separated selves, she at least had her friends and teammates with her.

However it was his first impression beyond his summoning mishaps that stuck with Fhara and kept her uneasy around the man; no sooner had she arrived at the gate, he had welcomed her past his wary gate guard, quick to introduce her and settle her into the Crystarium. A warm welcome for sure, and not one she was ungrateful for, however the mix of familiar and unfamiliar in the man’s demeanor made her cautious. 

That he knew her so well, so casually referred to her as ‘Fufu’ before she had even introduced herself, how comfortable he seemed while using it - hand waved away as him learning it from old records stored within the Tower, a name used in tandem with the Warrior of Light title, although it reignited her recent troubled thoughts on her public identity - while she knew nothing about him, that not even his own people could say much of him did nothing to ease her. Every factor together had her wanting to keep the Exarch at arms length. She would do as he asked - save the First, bring back the Light, prevent another Calamity from decimating the Source - and in return, he would return her friends’ home. That was all that was needed.

Of course, things would never be that simple.

In a land ravaged by Light for 100 years, a Warrior of Light was considered a heathen, a villain that had doomed them all. Instead, the people hoped and prayed for a Warrior of Darkness to be their hero. And so Fhara, with the starlit sky returning in the wake of her arrival, would become that hero.

Fhara didn’t want to say she hated it, however the dizzying speed with which the title and the stories spread was a shock to the system, moving even quicker than her reputation as the Warrior of Light had grown on the Source. She couldn’t blame the people for their enthusiasm, especially when the hero of legend’s arrival coincided with the return of the night after a century without.

She didn’t hate it. But she found herself seeking the comfort of her closest friends more often than she used to before. She knew they weren’t looking at a grand hero, but just Fhara, who stood up to answer the call. And they stood with her. As the days would pass on the First, rarely was she without a Scion by her side, only truly left alone in the comfort of her inn room, and even then, the wayward spirit of Ardbert was a presence she didn’t resent.

The days would pass, and the night returned across the land, and beyond the walls of the Crystarium, away from the crowds of people that would revere a hero, through pixie flower beds and dense forests ever shaded from the skies, and into desert ruins of a civilisation long lost-

“Welcome aboard, Ryne.”

Fhara had seen the young Oracle struggle under the weight of her legacy, the expectations of her duty to protect and act as a beacon of hope for the people of Norvrandt, while also living in Minfilia’s shadow by virtue of her name and powers. Fhara could empathise with the young girl, having long known the feeling of so many people relying on her and her own more recent doubts that she could live up to those hopes. She kept trying all the same, as she knew the Oracle would as well, for it wasn’t in Fhara’s nature to give up if she could do something.

But now, seeing the newly christened Ryne standing with a fresh air of confidence about her, her only nerves being about doing a good job for the sake of the team and helping relinquish Amh Araeng from the grip of the Light, Fhara was proud of the girl for her new lease on life.

Yet also a tiny bit jealous, that all it took was a name and a declaration to do better by herself for the girl to suddenly be brimming with courage, whereas Fhara fretted and frayed and languished under a gifted moniker, calling herself by her childhood name and then acting as though it were her only option, that she had no other choice...but was it always that simple? To just announce to the world you could be born anew yet still the same person?

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly the solution Fhara was looking for, but it was an idea towards a resolution for her woes. After all, she wasn’t trying to begin fresh like Ryne, Fhara just wanted to be Fhara, as she always had been. It was just trying to express that to the world at large.

It was only when the Light she had been capturing within herself finally overpowered her and left her weakened and stumbling, sitting at death’s door, did it finally seem to become clear to her. So rarely before had she gotten so close to death that she had never thought so closely about what she would leave behind, or who would remember her and how. The people of Norvrandt knew the Warrior of Darkness, Eorzea knew the Warrior of Light and the Scions knew Fhara. And if she died that day that would be the memory she would leave behind. 

Yet she realised, lying in her inn room, she didn’t want to just be remembered as a hero under a title, or by a name that most of her nearest and dearest scarcely used. She wanted to be remembered as Fhara, at least if it were possible.

She’d certainly made the attempt to introduce herself as such during their travels across the realm, but with how quickly people came to know her as the Warrior of Darkness, she feared that her attempts were being drowned out. However before their ascent of Mt Gulg, as the crowds gathered from across the land to assist them, she found that they knew her as Fhara, and they would talk to her, and they wished all the Scions the best of luck. And among a small few, the Warrior of Darkness was not a title solely attributed to her, but to all of her friends.

It was nice. A reassuring gesture that her efforts were noticed. Even as she stumbled her way to the deepest depths of the seas in pursuit of Emet-Selch - keenly aware that if she failed, she would be dooming the First and her fellow Scions along with her - she held onto that knowledge. After all her worries, it was an odd source of courage for her, bolstered by her desire to survive, and the understanding that she wasn’t alone in her duty.

Altogether her feelings gathered, and in the face of death and her desperate wish to live, and her wish to be known for more than her heroic tales, she made her decision. She’d never been afraid to make the first step before, not even into the unknown. She’d come all the way to Eorzea on a whim and a want, and faced almighty foes more powerful than herself with nothing more than the determination to protect those that could not fight back.

If she lived through this fight, she would cast aside her anxieties, and take that first step again.

~*~*~

Fhara wasn’t the type to call meetings, she was the type to attend someone else’s meeting. And yet the majority Scions were gathered in the Rising Stones, with the miqo’te standing at the head of the pack, nervously shuffling her feet. What few Scions that weren’t accounted for were assured to be updated afterward.

She ran her fingers through her hair, no doubt to calm some nerves, although the action drew the attentions of the group members that had only seen her sparingly during her otherworldly adventures; since last they had seen her, she’d left for the Crystal Tower with a short crop, still wearing her tattered and torn bard coat, an uneasy smile on her face as though more to reassure those around her than because she genuinely felt like her hopeful self. Yet each time she returned to report to Tataru with updates, she was a brighter figure, with a spring in her step as she relayed the progress on the First, and her hair would grow out slowly to the feathered bob she now wore. It wasn’t quite the cute twintails they’d known her for when they joined, but she looked all the more confident nowadays with it.

She finally started, with a loud voice, albeit one that cracked as though there was still some anxiety holding her back, “I have something I want to say. Something I’ve been thinking about for a long while now and that I want to be clear on moving forward.”

Any mumbling between parties silenced immediately. Fhara’s tail flicked at the now heavy hush, however some encouraging gestures from the figures at the front most row - some few nods and a thumbs up here and there - allowed her to continue, “Thank you for being here. Truthfully, some people here already know what I’m gonna talk about. But I’d rather make it clear to everyone now. This whole thing might sound rather silly to some people, that I’m worrying over nothing. Some of you might even say that if it means so much to me, then it’s not such a trivial thing. And I appreciate that, I do.”

She hesitated, ears suddenly flattening. “To cut out a long story, when I came to Eorzea, and when I joined the Scions and became known as the Warrior of Light, I told everyone here they could call me Fhara. It’s who I am after all. But outside where people would know the Warrior of Light better, then they should call me ‘Fufu’. That’s still technically me, it's an old name I was called as a child. And it’s the name I chose for travelling because...I suppose the easiest way to put it is that I wanted to separate my private life, if I ever chose to return home, from my adventure life. But lately with everything that happened and with a lot of the dangers getting so much bigger than even the Warrior of Light I just started to worry about who I really was and what I was doing.”

“Like how? You seem the same to me?” Aenor spoke up, ignoring the disapproving nudge from her frowning sister.

“I mean, I hope I do,” Fhara smiled, although it was more wistful looking than pleasant, “I never tried to pretend to be someone I’m not, no matter where I was or who I was with, or what name people called me. But I started thinking I was getting lost with myself, like people were seeing two different people with me.” Her tail flicked again. “I should say now, I don’t hate being the Warrior of Light. A lot of people try to project that I’m frustrated with it or that I could be doing better with a title like that, but none of that is true. I don’t hate it. But it’s hard. People have big hopes and expectations for me when they treat me like that, and I’ll always try to reach them, but it’s not always easy to do alone. So truly, I’m forever grateful to have you all with me at my side.”

Casting a glance over the Archons and the twins, Fhara continued, her voice somehow smaller, “But when the Callings happened, and then everyone else here was stretched to take over the work, and this place was left empty so much, I...well, as senseless as it might sound, I felt alone. But I still had a job to do, but doing it alone was hard. Because everyone else knew this brave warrior that could handle anything, and I didn’t feel like that at all.” The quiet admission brought about guilty whispering rippling through the group, until a sharp cough from F’lhaminn hushed them again.

“T’was never our intent to make you feel as though you had no-one to lean on,” the older woman said, “Especially during such a time when our own were falling out of commission. But then it was precisely such a time that we all struggled to balance the work that needed to be done, and to fill the gaps left behind. If that struggle left you without support, then that would be our failing, and for that we would owe you our sincerest apologies.” The mumblings rose once more, letting out a small chorus of “sorry”s and “‘pologies”. 

Fhara gave the woman a grateful nod then added, “I understand, I do. And I didn’t say that to call out anyone here, but I won’t deny that a lot of people across the realm talk about me in such grand ways because of the work and feats I’ve done, and it’s hard to feel like I’ve lived up to their stories. In that sense, being on the First kind of helped; it was a fresh start where I could try again to do the hero thing, but in a lot of ways, it wasn’t, because the same thing that happened here on the Source happened there. People needed a hero, someone to help them, and I just became the Warrior of Darkness to answer that need, and that’s what most people knew me as. But it still gave me a chance to try and start afresh with myself, and now I feel better about where I stand. And I want to bring that feeling and those certainties back here.”

She didn’t mention Azem. Though the suggestion that Fhara may be related in some way to that Ancient had brought her more hazy feelings, she had insisted that none of that mattered. The final insistence had brought her here now, to her certain decision. She was herself, and she didn’t have to worry about being anything more.

She let in a deep breath, steeling herself as she said, “The Warrior of Light is here to stay and she’s the one that will go down in history, and I can’t change that. Not everyone in the world will know the real me beyond the heroes tales, and I can accept that. But at least on some level, I can try to let them understand me. And that can start with a name. A name can be lost to time, so I get that people in the future will never know Fhara. But the people here and now can, and that’s all I want.”

With a final, certain nod,  she declared, “So from now on, I’m Fhara. Not just inside these walls, but outside them as well. It took a lot more words to say that than it probably should have, but I hope you all understand it now.” Uncertain of how to finish her speech, she took the skirt of her purple dress, already wrung tight by her nervous hands, and gave a bow. There wasn’t an immediate response. It took another glance at the twins next to her, giving her comforting looks to ease the tension in her shoulders, until another voice spoke out from behind the group.

“‘At was a lot of words to get the message out, but it looks here that it meant a lot to ye to make it sure as sure fer us lot,” the crowd parted, and Riol nodded, looking satisfied, “I think I’ll speak fer us all when I say message received loud and clear.” Fhara’s eyes started to water as she looked around to assurances and smiles, and possibly unnecessary cheers from what sounded like one of the Boulder brothers, but it was acceptance nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she sniffed, trying not to actually cry, rubbing at her face, “I mean it. This all probably sounds really ridiculous and I’m overthinking everything but-”

“There shall be none of that,” Y’shtola interrupted, “None of that self-doubt at least. We’re here for you no matter what decision you wish to make for yourself. You of all people deserve the support, and we are all the more glad to provide it.”

Fhara’s ‘Thank you’ caught in her throat, all she could do was nod. The larger group dispersed, individuals coming up to give her more reassurances and words of comfort as they passed before continuing on to their work. Urianger took G’raha aside for a word, both men departing to Dawn’s Respite, leaving the rest of the archons and the twins by Tataru’s desk with Fhara.

“So that’ll be a weight off your shoulders then?” Alisaie asked. Fhara nodded, letting out a heavy breath and slumping forward with the effort.

“I was more nervous for that than I thought, and it was just in front of the other Scions. But I’m glad. I feel like that is a step towards feeling more like myself, even if I never really strayed from that in the first place...I think.”

Thancred let out a thoughtful hum, looking over her suddenly tired frame. “I’ll say you never changed much, but I can see the ease it’s brought you now. Although if this is you after telling people that knew your little secret, how will you be with others, I wonder?” He ignored the peeved expression from Alisaie next to him as he brought it up, especially when Fhara’s face became a picture of concern.

“Oh, we’ll probably have to tell the Alliance leaders. Or do we? Is this an official thing I have to report on? Is there a process for this?” Fhara asked, eyebrows furrowing. Was there more work needed in this decision that she hadn’t thought of? Was there paperwork?

“Not to worry, I can get some official missives written up and shipped out in a jiffy,” Tataru stated, giving Fhara a bright smile and a thumbs up. Fhara returned it with a relieved look of her own, and the receptionist hopped onto her chair and set to work.

“Honestly, knowing diplomatic types, we could just use your name normally as though it's always been used, and rather than risk a faux pas, the Alliance leaders would just go along with it anyways,” Alisaie suggested with a wry smile.

Alphinaud shook his head at the suggestion. “While I don’t doubt that that is possible, sister, I would prefer if we erred on the safe side and actually updated the Alliance. We don’t have to make a large fuss over the matter for Fhara’s sake, but at least informing them of the change would be better for the Scions’ standing with them in terms of open communication.”

Alisaie rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Of course, brother.”

“At the very least, Lyse is already familiar with you personally,” Y’shtola said, addressing Fhara once more, “Even should the rest of the Alliance falter or take time to adjust, she would be able to take charge on the matter and make the adjustment easier for all. You needn’t worry about being left alone to handle this.”

“Yes, that’ll help,” Fhara smiled, however her eyes then dropped to the floor, a worrisome look on her face once more.

“Thinking now about how many people I’d need to update or inform, it feels daunting already. I’m questioning now why I thought the whole alias thing would be a good idea.”

“Really now, it’s beginning to sound like you’re thinking of telling the whole realm. You’re going to worry yourself like that,” Alisaie huffed. However she then added with a softer tone, “You said it yourself that you won’t be able to change everyone’s perception of you. Many will know the Warrior of Light, and some few will know Fufu. The odds of you coming across every familiar face you’ve ever known after this will be slim. But if it does happen, you don’t have to explain yourself in any great detail. All anyone needs to know now is that you’re just Fhara.”

The words, simple as they were, brought a warmth to her chest. And surrounded by her closest friends, those that had been with her for most of her journey and through thick and thin, the idea of continuing on into the unknown ahead of them didn’t seem as daunting anymore.

“Just Fhara...I like that.”

And that was all she needed.

[lunar-rose-academy]

How 2 RP - Part 1.5 (A little extra)

Hey everyone! Masao here~ Welcome to part 1.5, a little extra for you all, where i interview a experienced RPer, who shares their story, and give their own tips for RP. I thought it would be nice to hear from someone that has more experience then i do.

Today, we talk with:

@captainkurosolaire

​​A very good friend of mine who was actually one of my very first RP friends back in the days of Heavensward. Kuro was one of the first groups i joined, called Goldbrand. A pirate group that mostly focused on hunting Relics and the like. I learned a lot about RP from him, and made me really enjoy writing stories. He is also a very awesome dude and very humble. I hope our little interview helps you get motivated to RP, and to set that first step into the fantastic world of FFXIV!

My first question for Kuro was:

When you started RP, how did you start? Did you have a lot of help? Kuro: I started 6 years ago in XIV RP. I've been LARPing, I've built my own scuffed tabletop game with me and a bud, I've done WoW RP (Didn't click with me due to bad introduction to it.) As an only child, I've always had nothing but the highest of imagination's and I've always been tethered to create and build.I had tons of help. I wouldn't be here in the community without one of my ex's who drove me into it. I was a cuck. They shaped me and saw that, I was passionately nerdy about this stuff and always directed me towards this but, I was a shy bean and in a cocoon thought I’d fail or be a burden. After they parted with me for being naive and needing to harden me with heartbreak, I took a gamble for myself. Leaped in after a person named Sei took me in, I created Captain off just his glamour alone and then built off the tiny sketches with what I had in solo and overtime.Started from Gilgamesh, then went to Balmung. This was the era when Quicksands a majority of the time was filled with ERP and anything on the outskirts, were the more serious players and you had to go looking. I made a character fit and based around Quicksands and centered around the atmosphere. It felt fitting. So I went brash from being the most introvert by playing the most opposite to me. To not only challenge myself, but to force me to learn more. This overall was more productive of aiding in my conquest for building my Tabletop game, at first, it was mainly for that...Then eventually as my reputation was mainly ERP but somehow my F-list had some actual character-depth, I expanded and branched off. I was told by my Kahn'a my practical Yoshi P and lore guide. Some helpful hints and after that they practically set me up for transitioning out of just being a smut writer, even though I had a story behind each thing, I wanted to transition out. Then I met Verrine, Mishi, Thorcatte, Sun’ra, These people really put the ground-works into my story alongside Kahn'a, everywhere I turned, every person I met, they were inspirations, they were aiding me in RPing and feeling like this is my home, this is the land of the nerds and I owe them everything for letting me find this haven.Eventually another friend told me basically, why not just DM(Dungeon Master). Since I had contacts, I had the RP and creativity for it. They pointed me in that direction. Wasn't until I met my longest and really huge gratitude of an RPer in Ayla, who eventually inspired and led me into not only you. But bringing in many others who I eventually found as crew.I owe a tremendous amount to Ayla... Without a shadow of a doubt. Kahn'a too, but I could say literally, I owe everyone, four-hundred people in my head right now. From I've ever contacted or came into RP or even plotted none of their experiences have ever gone to waste. They each gave me a presence of passion. I transitioned off; led a huge DM group that was mainly done because you reached back out after I hit a downward spiral. After I left everything behind and ruined nearly all of it and lost my mojo.You rose me back like the phoenix, I eventually created a plot so massive that I could DM for like thirty individual people with the right support and people, did I fail in being a community leader or dealing with drama and involving everyone with my health and limited energy? You're damn straight. -- I failed utterly horrendously!  However -- It wasn't entirety wasn't in vain, people found their little groups and pockets in that, they met their meshes. Which objectively, that's all that matters as someone who organizes those to bring people together and in.After that... I transitioned into Tumblr more after being encouraged by people like Fair-Fae from afar, to Sei. Then worked on drumming to the beats given. To every person, even the ones that are angry emoji in the background-- I love em' their passion rubs into me and it breathes of air, gives me wings better than red-bull advertises! As someone who's dealing with an inoperable and bed-ridden rare disease, I've never been or felt more alive.I owe so much to people, and it's why I've stuck around for six years now and continue to batter up against the foul. This is why, I want to raise, boost, encourage, and rally others to be shared so they find in match-making their RP partners, and despite... I know my writing style hasn't ever been everyone's flavor, I never have ever thought of ever wanting someone not to find happiness. I couldn't give up RP at this stage. My next question would be, If you could give a tip to someone who just wanted to start to get into RP, what would you say to them? Kuro:  Know this. Getting into RP is a joke. It's really easy, you possess already every tool to be a tremendous RPer! Much better than I and I ever will be.

Short version: Just communicate. RP It's merely a Dance that can be positively enchanting, magical! -- I don't care what anyone says. ~ It's a partnership, you've got to find the people who keep up with pace and momentum, or blend with your style. You won't always find that and it's not a bad thing if that can't work. Some characters don't connect, some are opposite but they can still work. That's because it requires, one additional thing that requires: a pillar of effort. Don't let yourself be overwhelmed. Looking from the outside this game I've heard and seen, It's intimidatingly daunting. It's a lot to get into. Though this game? It's unoriginal. There isn't anything you can't create in this game, you have science, you've got alchemy, you've got magic. This game is literally called Fantasy in the title, this game has yanked and pulled off all the foundations of RL concepts, other fantasy tropes, religions, and renamed them and splashes over paint. You can do the same... Anything can be explained, I don't care what it is. People are fundamentally not grown as the exact same, I'm not personally here to be a clone trooper. Now If I want to play that, I can even do that respectively.* Look around the game visually, see if you think it can be done with the setting and place, build yourself something anything, you've got a whole box of legos don’t step on them. It’s proven constantly your creativity can be endless the more you play over time, or invest, put yourself out there. Go look into some guides, pull from a book, or google anything you’re thinking about. Again: People have styles they're different. You may appeal to being an NPC, you may like to be extended into Lore, you may not like all the fantasy, that's more than reasonable, it's all valid... There are people that feel you, they're waiting for YOU. Then you'll find people who are open-minded, you'll find people like me, I was in RP's with aliens, voidsents, normal people, WoL, like I've witnessed a lot. Listen to them, let them explain, and most often they fit. If you're too close-minded to accept then you don't need to worry you’ve already decided they’re not you, or your taste, leave them to their devices let them have their happiness, and go back to the scour. Don’t try harassing or bothering something that’s not there or ever will work. Wastes time and misery and drama isn’t worth unless it’s within stories, trust me. See for me... I’ve seen it all. People saying aetherfeeders and vampires didn't exist they cried on the forums and held a tantrum you had people say for years -- then boom RDM storyline and Stormblood came out debunked. Submarines weren’t things prior to SB despite we’ve got Garlean’s over here casually making Gundam’s. Their careers are over they played themselves -- this game is still continuing and always will if you're waiting for official confirmation from a -book- then you're going to be miserable, you're living off the backbone of a book meant to 'guide' and be resourceful in extension not to weaponize it and be a prick to people who don’t follow strictly the same ethic as you’ve so randomly chosen for yourself in standards, I hate to burst bubbles, but you’re never going to be 100% accurate, never ever. You didn’t create this game -- or it, therefore you can’t be anything but a replicator you’re just stuck either limiting your pieces or taking from an entire tub of building material. You aren't playing the book, you're playing the game. That's the real cannon, you literally visually see everything that's going to happen, you can bend it with predictions and logistical math. See XIV, they bend-over concepts of the real and made them fit or pried. I don't just bend lore… I bend it over. Why would there ever be anything that cannot be created? It's just how you interpret it, there are lazy ways to explain things, then there are thorough and detailed methods to get to the same realization of what you want to create that'll work and fit like puzzles to slots this story could’ve foretold. If done correctly more often then not XIV will follow suit in the same thing an expansion later if you stick to your wings, I’ve done it numerous times it feels like XIV has followed copied my test and then tried not to make it look obvious its because stories we’ve brazenly written together in deep-thinking. When my character is tagged IC that's it. Everything he witnesses or sees, I'm not refuting it. That's my chosen though, I see Quicksands and there's no way that place on my Balmung Shard and experiences is it clean, is it lead properly, or the official’s high representatives who totally are just fine with letting a Voidsent blow up the city-state. My character witnessed that, it’s set in stone. Though that's the option and you should always find what makes you comfortable, who makes you comfortable and consider that above all else. Often or not, everyone uses RP as an escape just as they play games. Don't sacrifice, don't lose yourself or not give self-love for what makes you passionate, don’t neglect yourself in taking control of being empowered and attaining friendships, fun, or treating yourself to something new to possibly take something lovely out of finding RP can be and make it all positive for yourself. Myself? I’m inspired by every person new and old who’s been in this game. I love it, do I bleed for it as my canvas? By the Twelve you know it! I’m only ever going to write stories and continue to build and grow, to learn. To do anything to give back. When a passion gives you life, you show that thankfulness by blazing that flame. My last question would be: Is there anything else you wanted to add or say to people? Kuro:  Nope. Rest boils to the decisions you pave yourself and if you want to take the plunge. Just know you're worthy, valid, and this place isn't and never will be one batch or selective, It’s not too late ever there’s no expiration to get into RP, there’s a reason RP last longer than the lifespan of the game’s even when they’ve hit the lowest of lows in dry content, there’s always been unity. If there's one thing this community does well it’s looking after one another.And If they fail to deliver. I know there are people like me who'd rather raise up then pound down.You got this, champs. And that was my interview with Kuro. Looking at his answers, there is a lot that i can agree with. The community of FFXIV is a very great one. If one person is down or needs help, the FFXIV community is the first one to jump up and help with what they can. Hence, its why i made this! To help you, reading this. Just remember, that there are always people out there that are willing to help you. And a person such as Kuro, and of course, myself, will do whatever we can to help those in need. Thank you all so much for the support, and i hope you all have a good day. Also! If you are a RPer, and you would like to be interviewed too, let me know! Send me a message over here on Tumblr, or add me on discord: Masao#2913. And feel free to ask anything related to RP, or even FFXIV. Hope you all are looking forward to the next one~

[nerobombs]

Writing Oppression

(Want more? Check out my Writing tag!)

Hope you’re not sick of the Stormblood-induced rants yet, because here’s another one.

I’m sure there’s many Domans, Xaela, and Ala Mhigans getting ready to get back at those darn Garleans and settle into their newly liberated homes. So I’m sure a lot of the player stories that come out of Stormblood will be surrounding that: themes of oppression, of returning home with new experiences, the idea of institutionalised power and how it can be wielded, and so on.

Well, maybe, anyway.

To preface this, my demographic is not what you might call “disenfranchised”. None of the places I’ve lived in or visited are particularly rife with genuine oppression--which I suspect will change when my North Korean visa finally gets approved and America hits its third year of a Cheeto Benito presidency (ooh, spicy political commentary!)--so I’ll admit that I’m approaching this topic more in theory and from logical examination than from experience. 

I’ve definitely consumed media wherein oppression is depicted however, and more often than not such things end up depicted more cartoonishly than anything else. You know, really weird and unintuitive racial slurs, mustache-twirling commissars, goose stepping secret police, and so on. 

I’d like to avoid that. Oppression in fiction can be a fascinating topic and an environment that provides for a lot of intrigue.

And if you’re worried that this post is going to contain some ol’ SJW bullshit then, well, it’s not.

So if you’re looking to approach the topic of Garlemald’s occupation in your storyline, you may want to read further.

1). Internalisation is a genuine factor to consider.

In short, when you get told something often enough, you’ll probably start believing it regardless of whether or not you cognitively recognise it as false.

For a historical example, a “colonial mentality” is a form of internalised oppression where the colonised people feel themselves to be inferior to their imperialist colonisers. The nuances are complex--thoughts can range from “Well they managed to take over half the world and we didn’t so we must be worse people” or “our economy is so much better now with our new overlords”, and so on--but the principle is relatively simple. This sort of thing happened a lot with the spread of the Spanish Empire and the rule of the conquistadors, particularly with places like the Philippines.

It happens a lot in marketing too: women are told they’re not thin and beautiful enough, men are told they’re not manly and successful enough, and both of these things lead to self-esteem issues. Same mechanism, for the most part.

Weirdly enough, this is something I almost never see portrayed in fiction with oppressed societies. It’s a kind of society-level Stockholm Syndrome. Certainly there will be Domans or Ala Mhigans or Xaela who truly believe that they are inferior to Garleans and that Garlemald is something to aspire to, and breaking such an internalisation takes a lot of work, simply because the information is everywhere.

So when you’re considering why oppressed citizenry might side with their oppressors, consider internalisation. Consider the effect of seeing and hearing “Be grateful to your conquerors for they are better and wiser” day in, day out.

2). Bigotry and intelligence are not mutually exclusive.

Or to put it another way: people can genuinely believe racist shit regardless of their status, upbringing, or intellect.

Let’s write a character, Garlic McGarlemald the Garlean. For all intents and purposes he is kind, fair, and intelligent. He’s a university professor, donates to the poor, loves his wife and children, and also sincerely believes that all Xaela are savage horsefuckers who cut off their enemy’s heads in order to consume their soul.

Wait, what?

One of the pitfalls of writing an oppressive or racist society is the depiction. A lot of these stories depict all oppressive racists as universally dumb, drooling ignoramuses who spend all day teaching their children to play “Lynch the Minority” and “Spell the Slur”. And, well, okay, there are certainly people like that. 

But in a truly oppressive society, the dumb racists are not the dangerous ones: the really dangerous ones are people like Garlic McGarlemald who is, for the most part, an ordinary person perfectly capable of critical thinking, yet still inexplicably believes in this shit for reasons no party can really rationalise.

And if that doesn’t seem logical in the slightest, it’s not. But it’s certainly realistic.

People do actually believe in stuff like that. You had scientists in the 19th century seeking “natural, evolutionary” reasons as to why other races were inferior to whites. You had logicians, biologists, and anthropologists huddling around and wondering why whites were so much awesome-er than all those other dirtfarmer races. It was something that was just believed. Maybe it was because it was a cultural cornerstone or it was merely a result of internalisation, but people who by all rights could be considered intelligent and capable believed that stuff.

And while we’re on the subject...

“But my bigot character doesn’t really believe in that stuff, of course he’s smart enough to know that’s all bollocks,” you might say. Garlic McGarlemald is just under social pressure to pretend he believes this stuff, that’s all!

Well, that’s not really valid. For one, from a writing perspective, that kind of argument is a total cop-out; it’s a lazy way to keep your character “clean” for fear of being controversial. For two, lip service has absolutely zero value in this context: unless Garlic McGarlemald is actually willing to take action, he’s still a bigot. A passive and well-meaning bigot, perhaps, but still a bigot. Not only is he a bigot, but he is a hypocrite too, because he refuses to jeopardise the racist and bigoted system that he himself benefits from. 

And this is where the “with us or against us” mentality sort of comes from: if your character is part of the oppressors, then he/she is an oppressor unless they’re actively working against it. Being passively racist is still racist, so sayeth the oppressed, because institutionalised power is still power.

3). Prejudice can have layers.

Consider the “double jeopardy hypothesis” which proposes that, for example, a Asian-American woman is not only subject to racism and sexism, but to the combined effects of both simultaneously. And if she falls into the LBTQ camp (or however many letters that camp seems to have these days), then she’s going through triple jeopardy because heterosexism piles on like a big smelly heterosexist frog.

I say that it’s a hypothesis (and from a scientific standpoint it still is) but this isn’t particularly beyond the stretch of logic.

Let’s say your Xaela meets Garlic McGarlemald. Now obviously, Garlic McGarlemald hates your Xaela. But he doesn’t hate your Xaela just because your Xaela is a Xaela: Mr. Garlic hates your Xaela because they talk funny, dress in rags, have a weird pagan religion and because they’re bisexual. 

Would Garlic McGarlemald hate a Garlean who was the same thing? Well, we don’t know. But the point I’m trying to make here is that an oppressive society will use everything, and I mean everything it can weaponise against the people they’re trying to oppress.

To go further, Garleans might dislike that Domans speak a weird language, they also hate Domans because they eat raw fish (barbarians!), force their children to kneel on bamboo mats (monsters!), and refuse to export Mother 3 to the United States, in addition to taking eight years to finish a new Persona game (complete heathens, I say!). 

See what I mean?

 4). People who belong to the oppressor group can have nice qualities.

If you’ll harken back to my intro paragraph, I don’t like it when oppressors are depicted as universally revolting mustache-twirling Nazis with no redeeming qualities.

Like I said, Garlic McGarlemald can be considered a nice guy, excepting the racism. People who are among the oppressors in an oppressive society aren’t universally bad. After all, for a lot of them it’s not particularly their fault that they were raised in a society that encouraged such bigotry. And internalisation happens with things like racism too: even when they become educated, they seek new reasons to justify their bigotry because it’s all they were raised to know. 

There is a nauseating amount of self-righteousness that comes with depicting all racists and bigots as unrepentant monsters who hit so many branches of the stupid tree that they’re in danger of accidentally swallowing their own extra chromosome. 

So don’t do that. If you’re going to write your oppressors, at least write some of them as mostly well-meaning.

5). Avoid tokenism.

Or, to put it in a more wordy way: either judge every group within your story as a group, or judge every group within your story as individuals.

Let’s say that Garlic McGarlemald is actually not a nice man, and he drinks alcohol and beats his wife.

Edgy, isn’t it?

Now, when being written by a not-so-good writer, Garlic McGarlemald won’t place any stigma upon his group, because he is part of the oppressive Garleans. It’s not that all Garleans are drunken wifebeaters, it’s just that Garlic McGarlemald specifically has that problem.

Meanwhile, Xaela Xaelason accidentally trips and breaks a bottle, therefore all Xaela are clumsy!

No. That can’t fly. And the reason why that can’t fly is because it very quickly descends into becoming preachy.

This happens a lot with poorly written fantasy novels: there is a single named character who is gay or has dark skin, and that single character ends up representing the author’s entire views on gays or black people.

So when you’re writing something like an oppressive society, multiple characters are important. You have to be willing to do the work to portray each side--oppressors and the oppressed--as having complex people who aren’t easily categorised. 

Don’t insert a Token Doman or a Token Good Garlean or a Token Evil Xaela and then use that character to make blanket statements within your story. Because that’s just lazy writing.

6). Oppression is hard to escape.

Whether you’re one of the oppressors attempting to open your worldview or you’re one of the oppressed trying not to fall down the same slippery slope, oppression isn’t an easy thing to “win” against.

There’s no magic argument or book that suddenly allows one to instantly widen their acceptance of race, religion, language, sex, sexual orientation, etc. Similarly, there is no Garden of Eden free of prejudice.

If you’re planning to tackle oppression as a theme, be prepared to be conscious of it, for as long as the theme is relevant. You can’t have Xaela Xaelason make it to the land of his people and decide that Prejudice Doesn’t Exist. No, Xaela Xaelason would be judged based on the fact that he was born in a city and doesn’t know any Xaela customs or traditions. He’d be judged for not staunchly supporting the tribal religion. He’s among other Xaela, and there will be prejudice there, too.

It’s a double-sided magnet, and it has some powerful pull. Be aware of that.

[faelune-home]

FFXIV Write 2020 #9: Lush

(A/N: No WoL featured this time, instead I did an NPC focused piece. Then again, as a post-Stormblood piece, miqo!Fufu would probably be the most likely one in this timeline, but the WoL doesn’t even come up so it doesn’t matter.

So here’s another mourning piece, in similar vein to my piece for Minfilia posted pre-ffxivwrite. With Lyse in the Shroud. :’’) I had this idea a while ago actually, but this got me the spark to actually write it.

Given how open the prompts are, part of me wonders if I’m still on prompt here when I don’t use the specific word and I don’t draw a lot of attention to the word meanings a lot. :’D I tried to allude to the word here by focusing on the life in the forests of the Shroud, but idk if I still miss the mark there. But it’s good to get me writing anyway, which is the point.

Spoilers for end of HW patches at least for a character death

Word count: 1395

@ffxiv-writers)

The East Shroud had ever been so full of life. In the treetops, in the ferns, in the tangled bramble patch, even deep in the twisted forest of the sylphlands, the creatures ever stirred. It was almost hard to imagine that only a scant few weeks before, a vicious primal that could’ve ended it all had hung over the imperial castrum at the forest’s edge.

That end never came, if only due to the acts of one man.

Near Amarissaix’s Spire, Lyse stood silent, staring at the metal walls of the castrum, so alien compared to the greenery surrounding it. So alien, yet so familiar to herself, with all the time she’d spent as part of the Scions fighting the Empire. Under another’s name…

She shook her head of the thought; she missed her sister greatly, of course she did. But then maybe the way she’d handled it hadn’t been the healthiest. Even so, Papalymo and the other Scions had indulged her odd grieving method. In a way, as much as she maybe could’ve been set straight long before now, she’d still come out okay. Maybe?

“Oh Papalymo,” she sighed, “sometimes I wish you were still here. Even if it wasn’t to have you help me - even if I still feel like I need the extra hands, especially running a whole resistance - at the very least...I want you to see how much I’ve changed.”

She smiled ruefully. “Of course, sometimes it feels like I haven’t at all. But I know I can’t just go crumbling when people need me. And at least I have Naago to keep me right...but it’d be nice if you could do it too.”

But there was no-one to respond to her. The only sound in the forest was the buzzing of insects and the rustling of the leaves. She sighed again.

“H-hey, excuse me miss!” she jumped as a voice called to her; a hyuran man in a Twin Adder Private’s coat ran up to her, “I’m sorry miss, I-I’m gonna have to ask you why you’re here. Idle loitering an’ all.”

Lyse flinched. Had she really been standing there long enough to look suspicious?

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to be here this long or I would’ve told an officer or someone at the Hut. I’ll be on my way soon, if someone from the Reach doesn’t come shortly after me,” she told him, shuffling on the spot. His eyes widened.

“Hold on, you’re- I’m so sorry, Commander Hext, I didn’t realise it was you!” He bowed, embarrassment clear on his face.

“Oh, no no, it’s fine, like I said, I shouldn’t have been standing here without telling someone,” she spluttered, surprised that he recognised her.

“I-it should be alright for you to stay, I can tell my commanding officer you came ‘round. But uh- why are you here, if you don’t mind me asking? I figured if it was official business like, you’d have an entourage or you’d be in the city.”

“I...Well it’s nothing official,” she shrugged, then looked back at the wall, adding, “I was just here to pay some respects. I was almost done.”

“Your old partner?”

She started, eyes wide at the young man, to which he flinched again and said, “Sorry! I didn’t-”

“No, I don’t mind,” she said quickly, trying to calm the jittery soldier. Gods they were both so flustered at that point, somebody could jump and reach the trees quicker than any Ishgardian dragoon. She looked over his uniform again, spying the Third Class emblem on the arm. He was still only a new recruit. “I just didn’t expect you to know him, that’s all. How long have you been an Adder then?”

“Not that long, ‘fraid to say. I remember seeing you and the lalafellin man around the city as part of the Scions before I signed up. Heard he passed at some point during the raid on the castrum.” Lyse frowned, looking to the structure with a hard look in her eye.

“B-but I helped with taking back Ala Mhigo,” he said, a proud smile spreading across his face. “Hells, I was with one of the groups storming the city as well.” The woman gawped. He looked the same age as her, and barely a new recruit at that.

“Well, I’m surprised. Grateful but surprised,” she said. He gave his chest a beat with his fist, and said, “Was only happy to help, Commander.”

“Lyse,” she smiled, “Just Lyse is fine. I just didn’t think Gridania would want to send such a new recruit all the way into the worst of the fighting and risk losing a fresh soldier. Not that you probably aren’t capable but-” She stumbled, worried it would sound like she was dismissing him, but she stopped when he shook his head.

“Nah, you’re right. I’m as green as any leaf in this wood here, But I asked to go in. Me and the rest of my unit, sprouts the lot of us.”

“...why?”

He shrugged. “Ours isn’t a common opinion in Gridania, I’ll say that first. ‘Cos most folk are still bitter about the Autumn War, even if it were years ago now and barely anyone that took part back then is still around. Some few are, aye, but not a lot. But my comrades and I thought, ‘If the alliance can forgive Ishgard for not doing their part for so many years while focusing on their war with the dragons and still take them back, then we could do the same for Ala Mhigo. Let bygones be bygones and help them out now they need it most.’ And if we were needed most in the thick of it, then we were gonna be in the thick of it.”

“That’s a good sentiment,” Lyse smiled, “I’d say Gridania should be proud to have a soldier like you in their ranks. It’d be nice to have more good thinkers like you and yours.” She sighed.

“Gridania’s always had some problems, and it’ll take time to sort it out. But one step at a time, right? But then I could say the same about Ala Mhigo.” She looked to the sky, her mind flashing back to that night as the mimic of Dalamud hung in the clouds, holding fast to its draconic prisoner.

“That’s why I wish he could be here to see it all now,” she mumbled, almost forgetting her company.

“What was he like?” the soldier asked. 

A smirk crossed her lips. “He was stubborn as anything, and feisty. His tongue was sharper than any whip if he caught you saying or doing something ridiculous. I can attest to that right now.” She laughed, ignoring the prickling feeling at the corners of her eyes.

“But for all he said he was the no nonsense type, he could be lenient. Oh, he was lenient for a lot of things that he probably would’ve been snippy over otherwise. For every 10 silly questions I asked or stupid statements I said that he gave me grief over, there’d be another 5 things that he’d just let me have even if it was wrong or foolish or I should’ve known better.” Her words trailed off into a sob as tears flowed freely. In her mind she could almost hear a familiar voice chastising her for breaking down so easily in front of a stranger, especially with her new position.

To his credit, the soldier held out a handkerchief to her and said solemnly, “He sounded like a good man, Lyse.”

She nodded, taking the cloth and dabbing her eyes. “Yeah. He was a brilliant man. Brilliant and smart and ridiculously patient for someone that could blow up so quickly. He put up with me for so long.”

She sniffed, “Imagine, some brilliant scholar like him having a silly girl like me trailing around after him for years. Gods above, it’s a wonder anyone took us seriously.” Eyes dried, yet still watery, she handed back the handkerchief.

“Like I said before, I didn’t know him,” the man said, taking it back and pocketing it, “But from what you’ve said here, he would’ve been proud of the woman you are now. I feel pretty certain saying that.”

Lyse smiled again. “You know what? I feel certain enough to say you’d be right. He would be.”