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autumnslance · 2 years

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Prompt #30: Sojourn

When Zahra Murheen was very young, her dancer’s feet itched to see new lands and meet new people. So she joined a trade trip across the strait to Corvos, despite her mother’s protests.

“You’ll understand, when you’ve daughters of your own,” her mother sighed, but didn’t stop her. How could she, when she had wandered far in her own youth? Zahra was yet untethered to hearth and home. Now was the time to allow her traveler’s heart to wander free.

She traveled through Corvos, Dalmasca, and Nanxia, in those halcyon days when Garlemald was yet a northern nation no one knew nor cared much about.

She fell in love with her brother’s friend, traveling the trade routes with them, and eventually returned home, belly beginning to swell with their first son, the rumors of coming war on the mainland whispering behind them as they returned to their bright island, foreign travels complete.

This was home, and while glad to have seen more, she was happier to remain.

—

When Emelia Ranaz was young, her bard’s heart yearned to see new lands and meet new people. She convinced her cousin to take her along on his trade trip to Eorzea. She heard the land was soaked in aether due to the source of all magic flowing from the lake near its heart. She heard that true bards sang among the trees of its giant mystical forest.

Zahra sighed, but did not try to stop her youngest daughter; how could she, when she too had traveled in her youth? Emelia scorned the attentions of the suitors who tried to woo her; she was yet young, untethered and free to live for herself.

“Do not worry for me, Mama,” Emelia laughed on the docks of Yedlihmad.

“How can I not?” Zahra asked, kissing her cheek. “You’ll understand, when you’ve daughters of your own.”

—

When Zahra Ranaz was in her late middle years, she waited at the gates of Davarresh, watching the western road. The sun sank low beyond the mountains, its last orange light dazzling her eyes. But she continued to watch, waiting on her nephew’s cart and the precious cargo it carried.

What should have been a brief journey had become nearly thirteen years of letters and a life lived far away, in a cold northern land where the people saw dragons as enemies instead of divinities. Where her daughter, who here had scorned every would-be lover, had built a family.

A selfish part of Zahra was glad her daughter was coming home, bringing her children with her. But Merciful Sisters, that her baby had to know such heartbreak to make it so!

The wagon came into view, and she trembled in anticipation. They were still yalms away from the gate when a familiar—yet not—woman leapt from the front seat and dashed into Zahra’s open arms.

“Mama!” Emelia sobbed into her shoulder; relief, happiness, and grief striking her all at once.

“You’re home,” Zahra whispered, holding her tight. “Your journey is complete, my love.”

—

When Aeryn Striker was young, her adventurous spirit wished to travel to new lands at her brother’s side, beginning with the realm of their birth.

Her mother wouldn’t let her.

“You’ll understand, when you’ve daughters of your own,” Emelia said, through the tears and shouting on both sides.

Zahra would not interfere, but privately felt Emelia was wrong. After all, hadn’t they both traveled in their youths, learning more of the world and themselves?

Yet Zahra’s adventures in Ilsabard and Othard had turned out differently than the idyllic years Emelia had spent in Coerthas—a life ripped away by an ancient war that she had spent everything to get her children away from.

And now they wanted to return to that chaotic land.

Emelia had a daughter of her own—and feared for the heartbreak of losing her, for the heartbreak her girl might suffer in her journey. She couldn’t stop Zaine—that boy lived to be contrary in his oddly affable way—but she could stop Aeryn.

Zahra was disappointed when Aeryn gave in to her mother’s demands, hoping that despite everything, her granddaughter found her happiness someday.

—

When Emelia Eadir passed away, Aeryn left on her own adventures. Older than her grandmother and mother had been, yet still untethered to hearth or home, oblivious to the advances of would-be suitors. She left to find her brother, but her dancer’s feet and bard’s heart also ached to learn new songs, to meet new people, to see new sights.

Zahra said her goodbyes, watching as the cart carried Aeryn west to Yedlihmad.

She had the feeling that this journey would not be a short one.

—

When Zahra Ranaz was very old, her granddaughter returned to Thavnair.

It was only for a visit.

This was no longer Aeryn Striker’s home; she was yet untethered to any one land or location, her adventurer’s spirit leading her from one place to the next, as free as the wind and water she had ever been attuned to.

If she was tied to anything, it was to the people she traveled with, a family of circumstance and choice, their bonds stronger for it.

They came and went as need and whimsy both took them, helping anyone they could, saving the world through actions small and large. And when their great mission was finished, they scattered across the world, physically separate but hearts ever aligned, always ready to answer each others’ calls.

Zahra smiled; her own traveling days were long behind her, yet hearing Aeryn’s stories—hearing stories of Aeryn—she felt that old itch in her own feet. Or perhaps simply a feeling akin to it, willing now to merely sympathize and live vicariously through those tales.

She watched as Aeryn strode away, to wherever her next adventure took her, not knowing when she might return—and at peace with that.

With the western sun in her eye, Zahra offered a prayer on Aeryn’s behalf:

“May your journey never end.”

#FFXIVWrite2022 #Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Backstory #Zahra Ranaz #Emelia Striker #Aeryn Striker

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xiakha · 7 months

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FFXIVWrite2023 Prompt #26 - Last

"Oh Venat, I was expecting you."

Azem was at her loom again. The clicking and clacking paired with the movement of the wooden frames that made up the half room sized device came across as an alien string quartet.

Venat paused. That indeed was Azem's usual greeting, but why was it all of the sudden so... sinister? Venat had gotten used to just barging into the apartment that Halcyone shared with Hades and Hythlodaeus because Halcyone always had the door unlocked for her.

"Hail, Halcyone, you're certainly busy."

She smiled in the harried way of someone with too much on her plate. "Well, I just got back to Amaurot, and I'll be leaving once again in the morning. So I'm hoping to get a bit more of my weaving in before I must leave."

Venat was also recently returned to Amaurot after quite the eventful trip.

"Such a pity that my better thirds are still occupied with Hermes. But you at least were able to spend some time with all of them?"

For a moment there was only the clacking sound of wood on wood.

"...Indeed. I wasn't aware that Hades and Hythlodaeus had an appointment in Elpis, otherwise I would have gone to greet them upon their arrival."

"Strictly speaking, Hades had the appointment. Hythodaeus was simply the plus one "expert second opinion" that went simply to sight see and enjoy the scenery. Alas, if only I could have gone, but I was halfway across the Star when they first left, and I'll be halfway across the Star once more before they return!"

"Did you weave that in?"

"The set up, yes. the end result, not yet." Azem jabbed a finger into the broad tapestry she had been working on for years. I shall be sure to add in the consequences once they debrief with me."

Venat wanted to scream. She wanted to shake Azem angrily. She needed to know how much of the trip to Elpis was guided by her hand, how much she shaped directly or indirectly.

Instead she said, "Ah, if only Hythlodaeus could be convinced to seek more fresh air and green grass in a less grandiose manner."

"Alas, but his lust for the grandiose knows no bounds, and I dare say that Hades and I both agree that we fell for him partially because he was always little bit too much."

Hythlodaeus was the light that brightened Hades's grumpy little existence. Conversely, Azem felt his presence as calming and his voice as wise. On his part, Hythlodaeus played both roles extraordinarily well, sometimes switching without missing a beat, sometimes catering to both his lovers with the same turn of phrase.

Venat could only groan in mock disgust at how perfect the three were for each other...

It was indeed strange that Azem was consistently in the right place at the right time, especially as her gift was the ability to weave fates, not change them per se, but guide them in a manner that she found more palatable. In each and every tapestry that Azem finished was another chapter in the grand story of the Star.

Venat did not wish to doubt her handpicked successor, (Ah but why did she handpick her in the first place?) but Elpis had her on edge.

"I'm curious, Halcyone, you've been working on this particular tapestry here for moons now, on and off. Will time itself outpace the speed of your weaving?"

"'Tis why I labor tonight, desperately trying to keep my work from becoming yesterday's news today." Of course, she could not alter the past, only the future yet to come. But it was important to have the recent past set down as well to continue the threads.

"Does your aetheric influence extend forever had you the time? Would you weave the story of the Star five thousand, five hundred thousand, years from now, could you?"

Azem blew a low whistle and looked up from her work to see Venat's nonchalant smile.

"I suppose, had I the time and resources, yes, But my works are only as strong as the cloth that is woven. Doubtless, one day the sides will fray and the weave will become undone, and any prophecy yet to be fulfilled would no longer hold."

"So, a good while, but not forever."

"Perhaps if someone were to maintain the tapestries and keep them tidy in perpetuity they would exist for much longer, but Venat, I hardly can imagine what will happen one year down the line, let alone five hundred or five hundred thousand." She looked out at an invisible length of tapestry that had yet to be woven, stretching on for malms, "'Twould be imposing work, even the mere skeleton of a plan would surely take years to create."

With this, the cloud on Venat's mind lifted, "Ah, so you have no such grand overarching plans."

Azem laughed, "Ah, but therein lies the rub, I do. And yet years later, after so much weft in warp and so much dealing with the responsibilities of Azem, I have barely started planning out my notes for this plan. Mayhaps I will fill my days with just weaving and leisure once I have passed on the title of Azem myself."

Venat smiled again, cheerfully, but hollowly, "I look forward to the day."

So it was a matter of outlasting Azem's imagination, holding out further and longer than her grasp on her shuttle and the length of her thread. She would free herself from Azem's influence simply through perseverance.

"...'Twould be interesting to perceive a Star in which the power and influence of the Convocation had waned so utterly as to be forgotten, would it not? I wonder how it would look then to wander the world."

Venat looked back at Azem, her goodbyes forgotten.

"Pardon?"

"Without a direct connection to the present day, there would be no guarantee that I weave true, but now that I think of it, I could weave a bit of a tale..."

"Halcyone, forgive my intrusion. I really should get going. Never mind my silly aside when you have so much work yet to finish!"

Azem nodded and waved as Venat left as suddenly as she had arrived. But even as she passed the shuttle, weft over and under, her mind wandered.

Who would it be that saw the end of the Convocation? Who would outlive the rest of them, the last of their kind?

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #FFxivWrite2023 #Venat #Azem #a short scene #wordvomit

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haellen-o · 1 year

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Welcome to my brain rot facility

Character tags #haellen #ophelia #Ophelia De Fortemps #Halcyon

This is a personal account where i browse the waves of tumblr, enjoying various media i follow and spewing my blorbo and ship brainrot when it gets aggrevated enough. This blog is mainly FFXIV centric but will occasionally dip into other things that i like, should that ever change and my attention drifts further from being XIV focused i'll probably make a side blog which will become my main account thingy, that'll probably go HERE and this will become dedicated exclusively to XIV... if there's no link then that's not happened yet. onto the OC introductions

(May contain spoilers for ARR, HW, SB, SHB's, and EW)

Haellen Orestes! Magitek engineer. Published author in applied and theoretical aetherology. Practitioner of (most) forms of magic. Allagan history expert. And proud wife of the great Nero Scaeva

(Also the warrior of light and darkness but that's not important and she wouldn't introduce herself with that)

Age: 40 (As of patch 6.3)

Height: 6’1 (187.45cm according to the race height wiki)

Haeling from gridania originally, she spent most of her life in the city of limsa lominsa honing her trade as a scholar of all things aether related at the arcanists guild. Her life before the fall of dalamud was fairly uneventful, aside from the occasional excitement of being dragged on a field research job by her two close friends A'rhaz Y'vikti a scholar and summoner respectively that worked with the arcanist guild to provide the lore and history of various subjects of interest

Following the fall of dalamud however her life was swept up in a whirling dervish of activity. From the inheretence of the scholar and summoner jobstones after the deaths of her friends at the battle of cartenou, becoming an adventurer to honour their memory. And learning that she was the fabled warrior of light, and being inducted into the scions of the seventh dawn and becoming the protector of eorzea... many more titles would be earned along her path, but none were earned without sacrifice

Her dream is to eventually find someone to replace her. The likelihood of someone doing that is slim to none, but it was never her intent to become the warrior of light. Her goal was to explore eorzea, uncover secrets, and settle the affairs of her fallen friends before returning to her normal ordinary life at the guild

Her duty as the warrior of light of course does not allow for that. Should she fall or give up, (Or simply refuse to act) there are none who could replace her. It is her duty to bear this burden and she will bear it for as long as she must (At least that's her belief)

GENERAL INFO

Canon Jobs: Warrior, Paladin, Dark Knight, Gunbreaker, Machinist, Dragoon, Monk, Ninja (LvL 80), Red Mage, Black Mage, Arcanist Conjurer (LvL 30), Sage, And formerly Summoner and Scholar. But as of 6.1+ she is no longer a summoner or scholar

Stoic in public settings

Emotively reserved. Doesn't really change expression much, and when she does its sublte and reserved (unless angered)

Confident and bold in conversation

Ignorant to social taboo's and fopaux's, will say what she thinks. When she wants to, so long as it wouldn't be insensitive to say at that time

Prefers clothes that cover up a lot of her body

Husband is Nero Scaeva (in case that wasn't obvious. Did she mention that yet?) Daughter is Aurelia H. Orestes

Hates coffee and the smell of it with a passion

Loves the smell of freshly brewed tea, Lime scented incense sticks, and the smell of rain

Enjoys maintaining her own gear and weapons

Enjoys tinkering with her MCH contraptions and prototype projects

Good cook (However only cooks her custom recipe for archon loaf)

Ophelia De Fortemps. Twin sister to haurchefant greystone. Battle hardened warrior of light and darkness. Fight sexual. Will(Probably)not kill you unless she has to

Name: Ophelia De Fortemps (Formerly Ophelia Sharduex, and Ophelia Greystone)

Age: 30 (as of patch 6.3)

Height: 6’6 (200.15 according to the race height wiki)

Growing up as an orphan on the streets of ishgard wasn't easy. And ophelia learned from a very early age how harsh the world is, and more importantly. How important it is to have people you can rely on and who will watch your back, the streets hardened her but she never lost her smile. Or sense of humour

When she turned 18 she hauled ass as fast as she could out of ishgard to become an adventurer. Plying her trade with sword and shield. Self taught by observing the various ishgard knights training, as well as other people who used such weapons. And then applying what she watched into practice, it made her style unorthadox and very unique. Combining reverse engineered ishgardian sword techniques and the typical sword swinging of gladiators and paladins. It caught her a lot of attention pretty quickly and this style was honed in battle fast. Eventually becoming a paladin through... Unorthodox and certainly unapproved methods. She vowed to always protect those she cared about, no matter what the cost

After becoming the warrior of light and returning to ishgard after the events of the sultana's banquet she discovers that she is the bastard daughter of edmont de fortemps and the twin sister to haurchefant. This is discovered the night before the events of the vault take place. Learning that she had the one thing she had always wanted, family. And having it taken away from her faster than she could even attempt to realise sent her down a dark path. And in her darkest moment she met her mentor, the dark knight known as fray

Once again adopting her own fighting style rather than a standard trained one. She combined aspects of her sword knowledge that would allow her to seek her revenge, and fulfil it as quickly as possible. All dark knights walk a dark path, but her's was one far darker than most. A violent and hateful path, of which she would later come to refer to as her becoming a "Wraith" as her style of combat drastically differed from a typical dark knights. Her raw hatred and vengence combined with her lack of self-restraint allowed her to far outweight the power of anything at that time, easily dismantling the white whale known as bismark singlehandedly without breaking a sweat. And even withstanding the power of the ascian Igeyorhm even without the full power of the blessing of light. Allowing her to retain the key to azys la and averting ysayles fate

After the events of the dragonsong war. Ophelia's power had calmed more, regaining the power of the blessing of light and her desire for revenge satisfied, still far stronger than anything that could face her. But that would change after the grand companies of eorzea had decided to liberate ala mhigo. Her meeting with the crown prince of garlemald, zenos. He was a light in her life of boredom and emptiness. Someone who was as powerful as her and fought as murderously. This light was brief but their shared feelings of emptiness sparked a unique kinship the two felt. Resulting in a unique friendship in which the two desired to kill each other. This light was brief, but it would influence events that had yet to even be set in motion

During her trip to the first she had a revelation, brought on by her weakened state and emet-selchs "Elucidation" on his goals. The realisation that her dark path was adjacent to emet-selchs. And that if given the opportunity she would sacrifice anyone to bring her brother back. Even those close to her... This caused her great emotional pain, all of the atrocities she had commited for revenge in the name of haurchefant, and how if he were alive. He certainly wouldn't have been happy with her actions. From that moment she swore to change and promised herself, and her brother. That she would let go of that pain and finally start to heal, no longer would she fight without any care for mercy or the state of her opponent. Her dark power finally being able to fulfil its purpose of protecting those who who cannot protect themselves. instead of being a tool for revenge

Now after the events of endwalker and the final days. With the help of her friends, the scions, and the woman she loves. She has finally started to heal, it's a slow journey and one she could have walked sooner were it not for her bloodlust and want for violence, but its a journey she can finally begin. And a new adventure awaited the healing soul of ophelia greystone, the warrior of light. And proud member of the ishgardian house fortemps

GENERAL INFO

Canon jobs: Wraith (Custom job) Paladin (Level 58)

Occasionally zones out while in civil situtions

Intense love of warm drinks (Coffee, tea, and especially hot cocoa)

Calm and light hearted. But serious when it needs to be

Prides herself on her self taught martial prowess and swordsmanship

Girlfriend is Ysayle Dangoulain

Was officially recognised as a member of house fortemps after the events of endwalker

is very supportive and protective of emmanellain, despite his age he feels like a kid brother to her

The smell the ishgardian tree's give off when burnt fill her with nostalgia

Uses a modified ishgardian longsword style for combat (akin to the Schlüssel longsword stance)

Preference of wielding longswords over greatswords (However she used greatswords up until endwalker)

Enjoys sowing

Good cook

Envoy to the sundered star. The last seat of the convocation. Azem

Name: Halcyon (or azem)

Age: Very old

Height: Varies (Currently 5'8)

A survivor of the sundering, halcyon has walked the source and its reflections in so many different lives. Never forgetting their job as azem once. Walking paralell to emet-selchs path through history. Halcyon has spent their time breaking bread and living with the people of the source and the reflections. Their most recent iteration has been the most true to their real self, adopting their own name and title instead of the name given to them by their parents and filling the mantle of Warrior of Light to defend the people of the sundered world against her kin and their shattered and forgetful minds

GENERAL INFO

Canon jobs: Warrior, Foebreaker, Mystic

Prefers they/them

Enjoys confusing people with their androgyny

Strongest (Physically) out of all their kin

Amongst the weaker mages of their kin

Enjoys garlean opera and poetry

Completely oblivious towards romantic advances

Hot-headed

Enjoys introspection

Nicknames creatures and people they enjoy (rarely uses those nicknames in public)

Possibly the cause of the "Inner beast" warriors use

Cuddles a solus plushie when going to sleep

i won't ever post NSFW/Lewd stuff here (tho i may occasionally reblog other's work out of appreciation for their effort) but i may post stuff that's of a more sensitive/mature nature. so consider this blog 18+

(Also yes i have a lot more written for ophelia because her story strays the furthest from canon lol. Despite being my main character, haellen stays very true to how the story is presented as she herself is playing the "Character" or "Role" of the warrior of light. Ophelia however doesn't care what people think the warrior of light should or shouldn't be, and plays to the sound of her own orchestra... And also kind of goes a little crazy from HW-SHB)

PFP by pewterbee

Bnuuy hael by @hdawg1995

Message dividers originally by saradika but have been edited by me with permission. The banner masterlist is here in the event you like what you see and want to use them

#personal

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tunashei · 11 months

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Cool words Part 1 Remastered

A list of some of my favourite words that are linguistically pleasing and euphonic. Below the cut! Now in alphabetical order.

Aether

Alizarin

Annihilation

Apocalypse

Armageddon

Auburn

Chagrin

Chaos

Cryptic

Doldrums

Duel

Frenzy

Gauntlet

Halcyon

Havoc

Hazel

Hollow

Kaleidoscope

Macabre

Manic

Maverick

Mayhem

Miasma

Mimic

Miniscule

Murky

Nefarious

Nemesis

Obliterate

Paparazzi

Parallax

Parchment

Pathological

Petrichor

Prairie

Purloin

Quibble

Rancid

Rapskallion

Roadkill

Ruminate

Sabotage

Sarcophagus

Silhouette

Spelunking

Trailblazer

Vamoose

Vantablack

#word #words #cool word #cool words #euphony #euphonic #linguistics #language #english #pleasing

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leporidaes · 2 years

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FFXIV Write Day 29 [Fuse]

This one is obvious. Though it's written from the perspective of my specific WoL, I left everything vague except the fact that this WoL is female.

Ardbert/WoL is truly bittersweet, but maybe that's why I have a soft spot for it.

It’s strange. A few years ago, her first meeting with Ardbert was one of contention. She was prepared to cut him down, and vice versa. Her in self-defense, and him out of desperation for his dying world.

Now they’re alone in the figment of Amaurot. Everlasting evening down in the depths of the Tempest. Quiet melancholy along the streets as the shades of the Ancients loop their final moments, none the wiser to their circumstances of being.

And here she is, dreading the possibility of what’s to come. The proposed last resort neither one of them actually says aloud. But they’re fragments of the same soul—of she who once called Amaurot her home. How can they not come to the same conclusion?

He tells her not to cry, for any intense emotion risks tipping her over the precipice. They can’t afford for the light to consume her. Not now. Not when they’re so close to ridding the Source and its shards of a menace, once and for all. Him and his delusions of bygone days under halcyon skies.

Him and his stubborn perspective that their lives, and all of sundered existence, are and were always worth less than his memories.

Memories are all she will have of Ardbert should worse come to worst. He is her friend, and a companion. Someone she never thought would be as dear to her as he became.

He is already dead, is what a rational mind would think. He deserves peace.

But is it truly peace should he simply become a part of her? Potentially lose his consciousness in the process of fusing with her? Is her life truly above his even if they are of the same foundational essence?

The latter is likely what assists her in the aetheric manipulation. Something she experimented once with him after they realized there was a physical connection when they attempted to fist bump. He was solid for but a moment, yet it was enough for her to practice making more of him whole.

Perhaps it’s a mercy now for what’s to come later. A consolation prize that she can make him tangible entirely in this very moment. Only to her, she’s sure, for it takes a lot of her focus to keep him from fading back into his spectral state. But his weight supports her nonetheless as he holds her close. She neither knows the reason, nor asks for it, when he embraces her. She simply trembles in his arms, her hands gripping his back, slipping underneath the shaft of the ax strapped there.

“Not about to let you succumb to this,” he tells her. “You’ve endured too much to let it all be for naught.”

She breathes, and sniffs snot away as she keeps him close. “You have also endured—”

“That I have. ‘Tis why I can’t let you end up like me. Or worse. My time is long over; won’t waste this chance to make sure yours continues.”

She tries excuses. How unfair it’ll be should it come to that. But she knows he makes sense, and being the Warrior of Light has taught her time and time again that the path she’s chosen to walk is paved with sacrifice. Of which caliber greatly varies.

She’s afraid that it will inevitably come to that, for as much as she’s tried to stand on her own two legs, the light within her makes it difficult to tread forward, or to even see clearly. She can’t let down the Scions. Not when they’ve worked so hard for her survival.

Not when the Crystal Exarch—G’raha, actually—spent over a century doing his best to ensure she doesn’t meet a premature end like she did back in his timeline.

Though her tears cease, she still doesn’t let Ardbert go. She jests that her comfort in his presence can be attributed to the fact he’s her literal soulmate. He groans, which makes her smile, for she knows he finds it cheesy and even told her not to say it since they found out a while ago from the shade of an Ancient by the name of Hythlodaeus.

But it isn’t until now that she understands why it bothered him so.

His embrace alone would’ve been indication enough, though it’s made all the more apparent when the intensity of his gaze and the beating of her heart clouds the realization of their lips meeting until a moment has passed. She refuses to let him go, instead deepening their shared affection. She holds back her sobs, but a tear rolls down her cheek nonetheless.

It truly is cruel for fate to do this to her. To believe she would never find love again after the death of her precious Haurchefant, only to ‘save’ her the repeated sorrow by giving her another who has already long passed.

She wonders which one is worse. They both break her heart, albeit in different ways.

“In another life—,”she tries to say when they part, “perhaps we could have—”

“Don’t,” he says quietly, holding her face between his hands. His forehead rests against hers. “Not now. Far too late for either of us to lament on ‘maybes’ or ‘what ifs’. It’s—and we’re even the same—we were the same person. Once. How would that even—no, just don’t ponder on it.”

There’s bitterness laced in his smile. His eyes are closed as he shakes his head. “This would happen to us. To… figure out the connection goes beyond quite literally being a fraction of another.”

“Ardbert, I—”

“Please don’t say it,” he says, looking at her.

She swallows hard, a little frustrated with his adamant ignorance. “No, I will, because if things are going to end the way we know they might—that… that they will, at the very least, let me say it so you know that—”

“You don’t need to say it. I know. I know.” He cradles her face again in his hands. “And you know that I know, right? And I hope you know that… that I feel much the same. But it’ll be worse if we speak aloud of it. Moreso for you who will have to live with the memory of what I say were I to do so. No, no I won’t do that to you after the sorrow of your previous loss lingered so long in your heart.”

There’s a part of her that hates how much she agrees with him. But like him, she’s stubborn. He sighs in mild frustration when she opens her mouth to speak, and she wants to smack him for shushing her with yet another kiss. Her anger dissipates quickly, for the last thing they should be doing is arguing over three simple words. They don’t need to be said. Actions always spoke louder. So she kisses him back, and hopes through that, he can hear her heart clearly.

Though Ardbert’s no longer beats, his hold on her and the softness of his lips is enough of an adequate translation.

She grows weary, and her companion once again fades to his spectral state. The palm of their hands face the other, hovering a sliver apart. He smiles at her, and she manages a sad one in return.

“Can’t keep your friends waiting now, can you?”

“No. They’ve been patient long enough.”

“Then let us be about it, hero.”

—

If there is one thing she finds oddly comforting about her experiences on the First, it’s that she can, in fact, die. As formidable as she is, the Warrior of Light is still just a mortal. The illuminated aether she’s absorbed from Wardens overwhelms her after navigating the frightfully hazardous recreation of the Final Days in Amaurot. She only vaguely recollects the valiant last stand of the Scions. Everything is growing white, and all she can hear at this point is the cracking of glass.

Her legs give out, and she falls.

When she comes to, it’s a blank void. Bright and enduring. She is alone until she notices the other figure in her peripheral vision.

Ardbert is there staring ahead. His posture is impeccable, and his fists are rigid at his sides. Looking at him from profile, she can see why Lamitt was once so taken with him by appearance alone. She wishes to cup his cheek, perhaps feel the prickle of the coarse hair on his chin. But he speaks before her thoughts betray her further.

“If you had the strength to take another step, could you do it?”

He still focuses forward, brow furrowed in what she can only describe as determination. The same as when he was prepared to cut her down, believing the farce the Ascians fed to a guilt-ridden man. There is retribution to be had, and she will gladly help him achieve it.

“Could you save our worlds?”

“What,” she tries lightly with a smile, “all by myself?”

Ardbert looks at her way and huffs out half a laugh.

Her smile falls when he offers his ax to her. Its blade is dulled and crusted with blood along the edge, but it still glimmers in the everlasting light.

“Take it,” he says. “We fight as one.”

She stares at the weapon, and then up at him. The last resort has come to pass. In hindsight, it was inevitable, yet it saddens her all the same.

“I’m going to miss you,” comes her soft admittance.

His gentle smile is a kindness. “I’ll always be with you.” Ardbert lightly taps the left side of his chest with his other fist. “Right here.”

“That is true,” she says, reaching out for the weapon. “You are, after all, my soulmate.”

“Aye,” he agrees with a shake of his head, though there’s a fondness upon his visage, “that I am.”

It’s a small comfort hearing those words. She takes the ax and the light around her dissolves. Though Ardbert goes with it, she’s able to stand on her own two feet once more. Yet it’s almost as if she’s being lifted by a second pair of arms, a hand along the small of her back and an encouraging squeeze on her shoulder.

A voice not her own speaks. But the warmth in her heart is familiar.

“This world is not yours to end,” they say. “This is our future. Our story.”

She can’t quite hear what Emet-Selch says after the burst of light is gone, but his frustrated shout at seeing the Exarch come to her aid in the eleventh hour is unapologetically satisfying.

There’s a vitality she’s never felt before as she glides through the ensuing final battle. Lighter on her feet, and more force behind her blows. Hades’ large and imposing monstrous form fails in coercing fear and hesitation. Perhaps that is why, upon his defeat, he shrouds their surroundings in darkness, no matter how hard the Scions tried to banish him via auracite.

Bring this chapter to a close, she thinks. Or is it Ardbert speaking to her? Many more adventures lie ahead, but this one is long overdue for a conclusion.

An ax of light forms in her hand and she tosses it forward. When everything grows completely dark, she wonders if it was enough. The sole light from her armament manifestation bursts and narrows, piercing through the weaker will between them.

A promise is made under the dawn sky, atop a decaying memory of that which is no more. To remember that they once lived.

On the edge of the platform, lit by the waking sun, is the ax of light. Firmly planted into the ground, its glittering specks are carried along the breeze until it is no more.

She places a hand over her heart. The gentle beat is steady, and she smiles.

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxiv write #ffxiv #ffxiv writing #ffxiv writing challenge

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lettersnorth · 2 years

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She was cast in total darkness. There wasn't so much a sliver of light in the staggering dark that surrounded her, but before long there came a break in the vast emptiness. A streak of sunlight piercing through the dark veil encased around her. Little by little, the light became overwhelming, and before she knew it Aislinn found herself falling while the wind rushed past her, blowing her hair astray around her head. The fall felt endless as the clouds overhead drew farther into the distance, until finally and suddenly, before she could so much as a scream, Aislinn's body hit the water below.

She sank like a stone within its depths, falling deeper into dark waters, watching the reflecting light along its surface recede away by the second. And then without warning, the overwhelming darkness consumed her once more.

For a time, there was nothing. No water. No rush of air. Not even a sound.

Before she even opened her eyes Aislinn felt the cold. Its icy fingers stinging her cheeks and playfully tapping the tip of her nose as if ushering her awake. Sprawled flat on her back, she peeled her eyes open. The hard cobblestones beneath her stole both the heat from her body and a startled breath as she stared up at the spiraling stone buildings overhead. A frigid wind rushed past as she eased herself up, and with it came the gentle brush of snow that drifted from the dark skies above.

Nymeia’s breath, where was she? What sort of strange and foreign dreamscape had she fallen into? No matter how unusual it proved to be, she needed to be quick about gathering her wits. Once on her feet, she found the answer. Aislinn knew this place more than she wished to.

Ishgard.

She was back in bleeding Ishgard.

Her sour thoughts were soon forgotten as she turned and caught sight of her reflection in a nearby shop window. Blinking at the youthful face that blinked back at her in shock, she pressed closer to the glass.

She was in Ishgard. And she looked to be about twelve years old. Bloody hell.

As she frowned at her own image, Nyscera’s aetheric butterfly drifted close and anchored itself against the girlish blue ribbon in her hair, determined not to let the wind and snow buffer it away from its charge.

Is this where the Dreameater had taken Locke? To the halcyon days of the past?

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #rp snippets #Melody of Bygone Days

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copiousloverofcopia · 1 year

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Top 10 fictional baby names (ie names that you like, but know realistically would be too ridiculous and mean to name a child, so you save them for the fictional children you have with your blorbos/in fics)? I’ll go first. Mine are:

Absinthe

Aeric

Anomaly

Arson

Anarchy

Echo

Fable

Halcyon

Reality

Revelry

Rune

Thorn

Valkyrie

Listen, I know it’s more than 10, but I quite literally have a list of 100+ names I save for my OC’s and their children, and it was really hard to pick just 10 lmao. I chose all of the names that I felt would work really well as names for ghoul kits! Fun fact: Arson and Anarchy are my OC’s twins with Dewdrop, and Anomaly and Reality are her twins with Aether (she’s in a poly relationship with all of the band ghouls; more kits are probably coming soon lmao). Rune, Thorn, and Valkyrie are my other OC’s triplets with Mountain.

Hmmm not sure if I have any but maybe these:

Amalthea

Lucifer

Alienore

Lenora

Artemis

Percival

Aeon

Helena

Ariadne

Damien

My real daughters are named after witches and one of my two sons is named after Star Wars character lol

#you asked i answered #baby name anon

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thatidioticwriter · 2 years

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Every now and then, the Gods of Osgyth would congregate in Iphinee's Auction House to place their bids. This is an exclusive event, open exclusively to individuals with connections to the auction house's owners. Gods receive wealth and power from those who pray for them, and they are also rewarded for any major achievements they make in the eyes of the Gods and deities of Iphinee. Because they have nothing else to do with their money, many of the wealthy Gods bid in the Auction house. Many affluent Gods like to stand on the balcony, looking over the throng, because they aren't interested in such things, and the rest are too busy. Until now, that is.

"For today's item, the heart of a panoramic spirit! Which provides its bearer the ability to gaze outwardly to far places!" screamed Pathros, the God of Persuasion, as he stood atop the wooden stage with spotlights directed at him. The gathering would erupt in gasps and whispers as they were drawn to the object. "The opening bid is 20 million halcyon!" exclaimed Pathros. The crowd would be flooded with bids, reaching above 500 million halycon as hands holding up signs of numbers lifted their arms in the air.

Pray and a couple of his close friends would be standing on one of the balconies with him. "Hey, that's quite interesting; you should get that, Ordeal," Aether said, referring to Ordeal's poor eyesight. "Perhaps you get that, who knows? I might pluck out your eyeballs after this," Ordeal commented, veins bulging out of his beck in rage. "You don't have to be so angry! I was just joking," Aether laughed. "It's best if you keep quiet, Aether. We don't want another Sepharic Vendetta," Pray said quietly from behind him, his arms crossed and his head bowed. Pray would be looking at Aether with one eye closed.

"Oh come on, none of you have the slightest sense of humour, lighten up a little!" Aether shouted, clapping Ordeal on the shoulder. "Get your hand off me, and what Pray said will happen," Ordeal said, looking at Aether. As the Valkyrie's who worked for the auction house moved off the stage after putting up the newest items, Aether would merely giggle before putting his hands in his pockets and returning his gaze to the stage. "Hey, that Valkyrie looks hot," Aimilios, another God of War alongside Ordeal, said from beside Aether, hand to his chin.

"Lord Aimilios, please leave those perverse notions as just thoughts and not act on them; we don't want more Gods like the Greek God, Zeus," Pray grumbled as he strolled nearer the railings to have a better view of the stage. "Prince Pray, of course not; I was just admiring the Valkyrie, no malice intended," Aimilios chuckled. "It better be," Pray said as Pathros removed the fabric that covered the newest object. "The necklace of endurance, it keeps the user from losing wisdom collected over the years due to old age!" Pathros exclaimed, his face beaming.

"Oh my," Aether exclaimed. Most of the Gods with Pray are becoming older by the second, and they require that item only to prevent their knowledge from fading into the depths of their minds. "You guys get this one, and I'll go get some sweets from the stores," Pray remarked as he stepped off the balcony to acquire a snack. "Have fun," Aimilios said to Pray before returning his gaze to the stage. "I guess neither of us gentle Gods is backing out on such a thing?" Aether asked, a grin on his lips as he looked towards Ordeal and Aimilios. This grin is not from his regular silly side, but rather from his greedy side.

"Of course not," Aimilios laughed as he walked from the balcony to another. "Good luck to you both," Aimilios murmured as he rounded the corner. "Good luck, Ordeal," Aether said as he jumped from the balcony to fly to another location. They needed to distance themselves from one another in order to offer the other Gods a better display. "Bastards," Ordeal snarled beneath his breath, gritting his teeth against the cigarette in his lips. "The opening bid is 150 million halycon!" shouted Pathros. The crowd would erupt in raucous bidding, all the way up to a billion halycon!

Ordeal would exclaim, "30 billion halycon," just as one of the Gods in the crowd was about to secure the item with a 3 billion bet. The throng would fill with whispers as the spotlight turned from Pathros to Ordeal. "30 billion halycon! Would anyone care to compete against Ordeal, one of Iphinee's wealthiest Gods?" screamed Pathros, his voice ringing throughout the Aution Hall. After a few moments, just as Pathros was about to cry Sold, Aether would arise from the darkness, exclaiming, "50 billion halycon."

"Aether?! God of Light, and an active God of War who embodies fortitude?! What seems to be the event today, folks? For the two wealthiest Gods are battling against one other for this little object!" Pathros exclaimed, his face beaming with glee. Ordeal would scowl at Aether, as if asking him to back off, and Aether would return his stare with an arrogant grin. Ordeal screamed, "Tch, 100 billion halycon!" He didn't enjoy losing, and his desire to defeat Aether is as strong as his determination.

They fought, each upping their bids higher than the other, until they reached 600 billion halycon, at which point Aether would back down. "I confess defeat," Aether muttered as he walked down the balcony, lifting his hands. Ordeal grinned, but his happiness was short-lived as Aimilios yelled a bid that was higher than Ordeal's. "Best if you back down now, Ordeal; I'm just as wealthy as you," Aimilios said to Ordeal. "We'll have to wait and see," Ordeal said before exclaiming "1 trillion halycon," which surprised the gathering because they had never seen Ordeal be that anxious to buy an item from an auction. He's probably doing this to gratify his desire to triumph over his two friends.

Aimilios was taken aback by how Ordeal put his bet, causing him to sigh and back down as well. "You won, man," He muttered as he walked away from the balcony. Pathros screamed, "Sold!" as he pointed at Ordeal. Ordeal would eventually obtain his item. Ordeal, Aether, and Aimilios would be standing in the Auction house's reception area, inspecting the item. "How do you believe it works?" Aether inquired, looking up to Aimilios. "I don't fucking know, why are you asking me?" Aimilios scowled, scratching the back of his head.

The three of them fiddled with the object until Ordeal smashed it to the ground in rage. "This shits a scam!" He yelled. Pray would be walking back in time, eating candy from a bag. "Hey, did you guys receive the thing?" Pray inquired as he came to a standstill in front of them. He'd spotted the shattered item on the ground and inquired as to what had occurred and why it was broken. Aether would sigh and press his palm to his brow, describing what had transpired. After hearing the explanation, Pray would ask, "You guys do realize you have to imbue it with your holy magic for it to operate, right?" leaving the three Gods startled. They all remained there for a time, unsure what to say, until Aether broke the tight and icy atmosphere by saying, "Were becoming old, aren't we?" "Yeah, and I should work on my rage issues," Ordeal added, making Pray laugh.

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