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Jancis · **02-07-2015, 05:25 PM**

The walk back to the Mist through Lower La Noscea seemed longer than usual. Jancis kept a slow pace, but a pace nonetheless. It was a new kind of practice to try to keep such healing abilities quiet and subtle that it took a lot out of the conjurer.

But it had been a party with the intent to make Lady Leanne happy, so making a large deal would undo all the hard work Sir Gegenji and everyone else put in to accomplishing that.

Sir Krosse. Seemed like nearly every time Jancis saw that man there was something paining him. Some injury, some distress, some kind of training that left the man walking about in more discomfort than he'd ever admit to. This night had been the worse she had seen; fractures, sprains, cuts, deep bruises, swelling... it was a wonder the man could stand let alone walk as if he was about to eat cake with a good friend after a happy day of dancing and comfort. She admired his conviction and strength, admired that he was always there for Leanne, and as much as Jancis tried to avoid using so much outside of dire situations, he proved worth the trouble.

Her head pounded. She was exhausted. Others were still there lingering at the party.

Sir Gegenji had such initiative to bring people together all for the sake of Leanne. He had called the lady bard his sister, sharing things of his family and wanting to know more about her own. His value of life was high, very high, Jancis had seen few who held such rever for it as this young man. It equated even to her own and she hopefully valued him as much in return.

The thought made her smile. And Leanne was smiling; thank Menphina for that sight. Strangely, Jancis felt very akin to the miqo'te lady and her pain, the empathy was strong. Yet, the conjurer was luckier than the bard. In a small pathetic way, love was taken by an outside force, instead of changing and dying all together from within. The beauty and sincere songs Lady Leanne created were so fitting for her. Jancis only hoped that the poem was in some small way mirror to the lady, to remind her of the beauty within that never dwindled or faded.

All seems beautiful to me;Â Â Â Â
I can repeat over to men and women, You have done such good to me, I would do the same to you.Â Â Â Â
Â
I will recruit for myself and you as I go;Â Â Â Â
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go;Â Â Â Â
I will toss the new gladness and roughness among them;Â Â Â Â
Whoever denies me, it shall not trouble me;Â Â Â Â
Whoever accepts me, he or she shall be blessed, and shall bless me.

Arriving back to her room, Jancis disrobed, laying in her fluffy floor bed. A box adorned with small red rubies carefully set aside. The box itself was a gift. "Have fun opening that." she was told, but surely it was already enough. She could keep the many lovely colorful stones and seashells she'd gathered in it.
But what awaited inside was breath-taking. A scarf, thin and soft and silky of deep red that matched the rubies outside. It had gathered in the box as it was moved around and stored. Snippets of the conversation she overheard came to mind. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she felt the faint aura coming from it. The warmth that was not her own. Pulling her arms tightly around her, the combination of many occurrences were coming together. She felt cared for. Violet eyes. A warm smile that had been long since vanished from memory.

Soon she was overcome with slumber, falling into a blissful sleep.

"I hear you with more than my ears."

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B'ren Lyrgh · **02-09-2015, 09:24 AM**

It hurt. By the twelve did it hurt. Not the physical wounds, not the aches and pains left behind from the fight in Northern Thanalan and in front of the Agentâ€™s house. It ached in his heart what happened to Avenio, watching that man be controlled like a puppet and attack everyone without a second care.Â

Not too long ago he made a promise with him about his own brother, Bâ€™ren knowing his kin was tempered and wanting nothing more than to help, nothing more than to find a way to ease his brothers suffering. Now Avenio himself seemed caught in anotherâ€™s web, clouding his mind. Bâ€™ren often found himself waiting until the last moment to try and help or even do anything, always taking a cautious stance. Not anymore.

Camyâ€™s room had been ransacked and the book taken, the book needed to trace and find corrupted aether no matter how strong it may be. A note left on the Highlanders desk of where he was going and what he was doing. His room was a mess as well, all hunting equipment had been taken off the walls and Bâ€™ren taking a look much similar to his roots.

Seekers of the Sun were renowned for their hunting skills.Â

Right now only one thing was going to be his prey.

Warren Castille · **02-09-2015, 09:59 AM**

First rule: No killing.

The thought kept returning to Warren again and again as the highlander lay in a tangle of limbs and tails, running the events of the night through his head over and over. It happened in a series of instants, all seemingly disconnected in Warren's mind from one another. First, overseeing from his position on the central rock. Then, being called over to settle a dispute.

He didn't expect to find someone attempting to break the first rule. No one ever attempted to break the first rule.

His body reacted before his brain could. His sword flashed from its resting place, striking swiftly and terrible on the wrist. He felt seemingly no resistance from the meat or bone, and the implement of attack was rendered useless. For a moment, the scene was utter madness: Warren's features icily focused. Her eyes were lost in a haze of rage, unlike her usual self. And he was in a position many wished by none had seen to.

For a long moment, all of the noise turned to static. Warren surveyed the moment like a dream; She had fallen back, hugging the stump is disbelief. He had healers coming now, and she would likely be saved without further harm. His sword arm twitched.

The Grindstone had, to Warren's knowledge, always operated independently. No gil from the Syndicate, no sway from Ul'dah or the other city-states. They were allowed to operate on their own because, for all of their savagery and brutality, no one died in the Grindstone. By small miracles those who had knocked on death's door was always turned away thanks to the working hands of volunteer clerics and in all his time as a fighter and brief tenure as the Arbiter, no one had ever infringed upon that. Until today.

The old rules, the ones he knew back when Sigyn operated the show, were that breaking the first meant your abrupt and sudden death. If people wanted to kill for sport, they could toss their lot in with the Coliseum and fight on the Bloodsands. Warren considered that perhaps he had failed in that regard. The proud highlander woman and her axe would have meted justice differently; A hand can be reattached but a head could not. Something had stayed his hand and prevented that from happening. He wondered if perhaps it was that she had asked him to teach her. He wouldn't have to worry about that in the future.

Warren finally fell asleep feeling that he had failed the fighters of the Grindstone, and one in particular. Things would need to be made clear. Crystal clear. If anyone broke the rules in the future, especially the one that he felt was most sacred amongst them...

First rule: No killing.

Adeya · **02-10-2015, 09:18 PM**

It had been a long day.

Adeya let out a long, tired breath as she entered her room and pulled the door closed behind her, the lock falling into place with a small, satisfying snap. Stifling a yawn with her free hand, the blue haired Keeper strode across the floor to lay the two bags sheâ€™s carrying gently on top of her desk, before sitting down to strip off leather boots caked in a foul smelling mixture of mud, grime, and gods only knew what else.

With a relieved expression on her face, for a brief moment her eyes wandered longingly towards her bed. She had no doubt that at this very moment the other members of the Alliance would be sinking into their own beds, probably happy to finally be getting a chance to rest after all the work they had done.

Yet she wouldnâ€™t be joining them. It had been a long day, yes, but there was no way sheâ€™d be able to sleep now.

Her mind was racing as she began to carefully, almost painstakingly empty the contents of the two bags. Orbs, papers, rubble, crystalsâ€¦ her hands were practically trembling with excitement at the treasure trove of objects that their teams had brought back from their trek into the Wandererâ€™s Palace. It would take her days, perhaps even weeks, to sort through, catalog, and run the necessary tests on all of it.

And then there was the one piece that interested her in particular.

Reaching with cautious, almost reverent fingers into her pocket, she pulled out the item that she had neglected to mention to either the people in her own group or Asheloux. At first she had thought that it was just another crystal, albeit an oddly colored one, yet from the moment that she had picked it up she knew that that wasnâ€™t the caseâ€”or at least, not the entire case.

â€œWhat are you?â€ she breathed to the crystal cradled in her hands. She didnâ€™t really expect an answer from it (it was, after all, a rock), yet for just the briefest instant she would have sworn that she felt the power contained within it stir slightly in response to the question. With a hiss of surprise, she dropped the crystal onto the desk and just sat staring at it for a long moment as it laid there, its dark blue surface glinting innocuously in the lamplight. Finally she laughed weakly.

â€œI must be tired,â€ she muttered to herself. Shaking her head at her own folly, she pulled a stack of papers towards her, resolving to deal with the matter of the crystal when she was more awake. Yet every now and then as she worked she snuck a glance towards it, as if she half-expected to find that it had decided to move on its own or something. And every time she looked away disappointed, for the soulstone just continued to lay where she had left it. Waiting.

SM Nick · **02-11-2015, 08:31 PM**

One night in the Ivalice Center

Solis and Sakura are in their respective beds in their shared room in the Ivalice Center, Arcadeus's estate, and while Solis is resting peacefully, eyes closed and snoring loudly with his blue crystal containing Niklas next to him, Sakura's eyes are bloodshot and wide open, unable to be closed. Unable to go to sleep, she gets up and goes to stare at Solis by being on top of him.

After a while, Solis gets an uneasy feeling and opens his eyes to a wide-eyed Sakura, much to his surprise and shock. He jumps a bit in shock. "Agh! S-Sakura, what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Sakura said with a tired tone. "I can't sleep, Solis-san. For some reason I am unable to rest well for the eve." Solis replied, "And you think that's my problem? If you can't sleep, drink some warm milk. That should get anyone to go to sleep well." Sakura nods and heads to the kitchen to pour a glass of warm milk to drink. Even so she still cannot rest, or so much as sleep. She kept on bugging Solis.

Sakura said: "It did not work, Solis-san. I am still restless." Solis, now a little annoyed, said, "Perhaps it's just you're not used to these kinds of beds. Don't you Domans sleep on the floor back in your homeland?" Sakura nods, and then Solis said, "It takes a while to get used to these kinds of stuff, and the beds here are no exception. Just stop buggin' me, Sakura and let me sleep too." Solis then proceeds into a deep sleep for the rest of the night, unable to budge or wake up. Sakura then tried to sleep on her bed again, but to no avail. She thought, "It's no use, I just can't sleep....." She looks towards Solis, "Perhaps sleeping with Solis-san might..." Sakura starts to blush at the thought, but then proceeds to sleep on the same bed as him, taking off her top to feel more comfortable. During the course of the night, Sakura cuddles Solis with her breasts touching Solis's chest, both of them blushing in their sleep. Sakura thought, "It's so warm...feels so...nice......". At the same time Solis, in his sleep, feels something tingling in him and sleephugs Sakura as well, smiling and snoring quietly now.

Shift to the next morn

Solis yawns and stretches as he opens his eyes...to a half-naked Sakura right in front of his eyes. Sakura then said, "Good morning, Solis-san!". After a long awkward moment of silence, Solis blushes deeply and screams in surprise, backing himself up from hugging Sakura in his sleep. "W-WHAT THE HELLS?! SAKURA?!", Solis exclaimed. Sakura replied, "Yes, Solis-san???" Solis then said with a calm tone, "Um Sakura, two questions. One: Why were you sleephugging me in my own bed? And two: Why are you half-naked?" Sakura answered, "Because I was lonely and was able to sleep peacefully by being next to you," at the same time, blushing as well, "And I'm more comfortable sleeping with my top off."

At the same time, Niklas woke up inside his crystal, saying, "Good morn', Claritas and Mitarashi. Hope you had a good sleep." Solis turns back towards the Niklas crystal, only saying "You have no idea...", confusing Niklas. Solis turns back to Sakura. "Look Sakura just.....put your top back on mk? We're gonna spar in a bit to wake ourselves up PROPERLY." Sakura exciteably nods, "Hai, Solis-chan!" Solis is then confused, tilting his head "Chan? I thought you called me san?" Sakura quickly corrected herself after blushing, "I-I-I meant Solis-san! Heheheheh!"

Jancis · **02-13-2015, 04:23 PM**

((Ambient Scene))

Out among the grays and browns in the crowds and villages across Eorzea, colors spring up.

Bright vivid colors on cloth hung up on walls, flowers and ribbons across doorways and feet. In a strange contrast, the colorful scenes depict the night, centering on a bright iridescent moon.Â

Within the trees of the Shroud carved moons and other trinkets are left for the moonlight to shine on.

[Image: abstract-art-original-landscape-painting...canson.jpg]

Maps and signs are passed around in markets and town centers, furs in demand and being sold to travelers as they head northward.

"I want to touch the stone of the Lover!" "The songs are going to be enchanting..." "She guides us every night." "I want to renew my vows there." "I shall declare my commitment to my family!" "It will strengthen our connection." "I wish to feel closer to the land and the people." "I'm going to make a fond memory."

The bells will ring soon at Camp Dragonhead.

Ligardian Dreamer · **02-13-2015, 06:25 PM**

The Paladin have been making progress, venturing further and further into tougher areas and fights. However, his anxieties followed him all the way through. He found himself becoming more frustrated and he would reject even help from the Vigils. In one of those nights, he allowed himself to risk putting strain on his relations with the Vigils... The next, he found himself left to himself... Though he was not kicked from the Vigils, the conflict led him to think to himself...

Alexander wanted to be as successful as his parents... So much that he believed himself capable of making a gradually strong presence, impressing his peers and, thus, gain renown so early and have it grow so that others may know of his 'ventures. Most of all, he wanted to make his presence known as an individual who was driven and hard-working, kind, and seen as one who bears great potential.. One who is able to do well throughout all of his duties...

It was not his goal that had caused him frustration... It was his mindset...

He would get frustrated and would not be satisfied for having failed the first few times.... Considering that he will one day have to train himself to perform his duties better, but instead focuses on the rest of his duties to at least progress further and forward. He would not ask for help or would be hesitant to outright accept it not because he does not desire the support of his comrades, for he values it strongly. It was pride...He wanted to be able to be able to pull his own weight, not to come off as someone who was not strong enough to do things by himself, whereas if he were to perform the feat, it may even impress. This only serve, however, to provide hardship for himself and for those who truly mean well in supporting him...

He did not want to lose them... He had to make a decision... One that is not just for the sake of his comrades and all those after so that they may not find him hard to deal with... But for himself... For he finds and thinks that though he possess potential... He thinks himself not good enough. He feels that he had to get better and catch up with those who are further ahead in their duties than he... So that he may be at a better position to help them as the Vigils and those he had met have helped him. People who have been awesome. People who were praised for being hard-working and kind...Praises that he desired..... The Hyur Paladin had become envious... That, too, had given him hardship.

For his sake and for others... He had to make a decision... For though he still had his comrades... He cannot let them down...

Alexander Gomez, the Paladin Midlander Hyur, continued with his duties tirelessly, distraught with a wanting to apply the advises and suggestions given to him by his peers. He was beginning to learn how to seek and accept help with stride. A second missive with the Vigils turned out successful, allowing him to personally redeem himself from his performance in his first missive with the Cerulean Vigils. Everyone had done a job well done, including some of the new recruits that participated.

Afterwards, two more duties had him accompanied with some of the Vigil members in the first one, and with other adventurers in the second. Both, as well, had a positive turn out, including the second one. Though he did not do well the first few times, he maintained his composure like the rest of his allies and that finally bore fruit when one more attempt proved to be the charm that would complete their duty.

He was beginning to feel humbled... Ever since he made out for the world of Eorzea by himself... In only a few weeks... It has changed him...

His allies trust him... He knows this no matter what... He will do what he can for his sake and for theirs... To lend his strength to them... and learn to appreciate himself... To be the man that he envisions himself to be... and do right to his parents' reputation and succeeding them.

Coatleque · **02-18-2015, 11:27 AM**

Coatleque sat on the edge of the bed quietly reflecting on the events of the past week. Taking up her quill she casually noted the following in her diary.

[âœ”] Foreigner requests aid, then complains about chosen methods.
[âœ”] Monetarist noble requests aid, then complains about chosen methods.
[âœ”] Immortal Flames request aid, then complains about chosen methods.
[âœ”] Most promising recruit leaves Order

She casually dropped the book on the nightstand with the quill laying within the binding and rolled over to meet what sleep would come.

"Another typical week for the Sultansworn."

Jancis · **02-19-2015, 05:31 PM**

One Stitch... two stich...

Jancis sat in her room, coming in quietly. It was odd being back on her own space; it was the same size as the 'safe room' she'd be staying in for the past week, but not nearly as nice.

It was a strange twist that in looking for help, she ended up offering it. Lynx was a curious woman: quiet and reserved though every offer and concern was decisive and focused. Though all that the conjurer had seen of the swordswoman was nothing but kind gestures and volunteered service, apparently there was always that underlining of a life to redeem in the woman's tone.

Now Lynx was here sleeping in the medic bay reading random books from the company's library. "Custody" it was called, the woman repeating the term over and over to Jancis to leave the mansion in the Lavender Beds with her. Suppose it was better than being handcuffed to a bed. After stopping by the apothecary for elixirs, the two made the long trip to the Mist.

Another stitch... Jancis was grateful that her skin had healed. What should have been a shallow cut would simply not close and kept bleeding.. unable to clot. After stitches and some simple paste the wound finally started to heal, but she left it as is for far longer than she would have otherwise to make certain. The ones responsible would have to wait. Lynx and one other was her main concern.

Surrounded by a couple books focusing on aether properties, she wrote a letter for the Ossuary. She was going to take this custody seriously; it was far more than making sure the lady was able to make the walk to The Lover's stone. This was for the lady's welfare and Lynx deserved that.

Masters of the Ossuary,

I do write you this day in hopes you can assist. There is a lady in my care that is suffering from something I have not encountered before in either my studies or my experience...

Surely she had enough time to help before anything went wrong. Time was precious... for both of them.

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Cliodhna Eoghan · **02-20-2015, 11:39 AM**

Cliodhna groaned loudly. It was early, it was loud and it was bright. Blearily, she blinked rapidly trying to focus as she ran her hands through her tangled mess of blonde hair. There was the lovely sensation of an ice pick being stabbed through her brain along with vile tasting cotton mouth and an overall pounding in her ears. Rolling in the bed to untangle from the blankets; revealed her to be alone. Frowning, Cliodhna bit her bottom lip. Of course the bed would be empty, Erik had work to do early this morning.....

Though it was late, the front office of Sable Hall was lit as Erik sat on the couch; untouched tea on the coffee table, unread book in his hands when Cliodhna stumbled through the doorway. Placing the book on the seat next to him, Erik stood and swiftly crossed the room to reach her.

"You should have called me...I would have brought you home..." He had said softly, gently picking her up and carrying her giggling and nuzzling his neck into their shared room.

"Nooononnononon," Cliodhna had mumbled, breath on his skin. "Youuu-u gotta get up EArly! Needs sleep!"

"Yes, but I can not sleep when you are out with no warning and do not answer my call, Love. It makes me concerned...you had said you wanted to work on some plans away from your workspace." Erik replied simply, helping her change from her work clothes and into one of his simple shirts that she favored as pajamas. "It is safe to assume you got little work done." He added, to which she replied with a rapid nodding of her head before falling back onto the pillows.

Once changed, he deposited her in their bed; pulling the blankets over her and fetching a glass of water to keep on the side table, moving the plush moogle to the side in the process.

Seeing him move her old and worn plush, Cliodhna reached out; grabbing the offered toy and snuggling it with a silly grin plastered to her face before falling asleep. Shaking his head with a half smile, he partly marveled she had hanged onto the toy as long as she had while he got ready for bed and pulled her into his arms once under the shared blankets; fingers gently stroking her hair before drifting off to sleep.

She replayed the night's event in her mind surprisingly clear...well the parts she could remember anyway; fingers brushing against glass as Cliodhna slowly raised herself to a sitting position in the bed. Frowning, she looked down and drew back the sheets. "Ah...." She murmured, picking up the now empty red bottle. "So that's where you went Jack....Seems you're a bit stronger than I thought..." Shaking her head, Cliodhna stopped abruptly as both hands flew to her temples. "Ohhh...b-bad idea..." Gritting her teeth with eyes screwed shut as the world spun.

Slowly, Cliodhna breathed deep. She had to get out of bed and at least cleaned up to start the day, even if later than she had planned the day before.

Dogberry · **02-20-2015, 12:53 PM**

Daghbheri and Rhutshald had been playing at the beach all morning. Styrseig watched them from her chair under the canopy, sipping idly at her pineapple juice. Daghbheri appeared to be teaching Rhutshald how to surf. She remembered watching her own father teaching Daghbheri the same, years ago. Greimoen would catch a wave and cut dangerously close. Daghbheri, ever in competition with his older sister, would get mad and catch the very next wave. Their father would laugh and encourage their fights. Styrseig herself had no interest in their jockeying for supremacy. She kept to herself, mostly, and she felt she was better off for it.

It was this competition that led them both into the war, and their mutual undoing. Her lack of involvement left her in the right place to pick up the pieces of their lives. Rhutshald was among them. She remembered holding the boy, just three years old at the time, when Daghbheri walked out of his life. She raised the boy now, and saw all the ways he was Daghbheri's son. His pride, she noticed, was definitely inherited from his father. The same with how he showed emotion. Both Daghbheri and Rhutshald wore their hearts on their sleeves. It's no wonder they got along so well. She loved those things about him. It's funny, she thought, the paradox of loving Rhutshald for all the things she hated about Daghbheri.

Rhutshald fell into the water from the surf board, and Styrseig felt the urge to rush up to check on him. When Rhutshald surfaced, laughing, she relaxed. Daghbheri recovered the board, and swam toward Rhutshald with it, shouting words of encouragement at the boy.

Did Daghbheri really change? She remembered a man so often in trouble that his long voyages at sea seemed strategically planned to let some major issue blow over before he would return. Then the rumors that he was involved with actual pirates. It wasn't until he met Laughing Bird that he began to turn around. And then when she was gone, he got worse than before. She wasn't sure she could ever forgive him for leaving Rhutshald behind. She was sure that she didn't want Rhutshald to forgive him for it, either. All these years, she told him he was an uncle. She watched Daghbheri sit Rhutshald down and, could just barely hear the chatter of soft conversation between them. Her heart tensed. He was telling him the truth now. Of course he was, that's why he brought him here. It's why she insisted she came with them. Styrseig stood, and wiped the sand off of her legs. She waited for Rhutshald's reaction.

The boy turned, and scrambled to his feet. He ran toward her. She could see he was crying. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his head against her body. Daghbheri had got up and ran after. He stopped just short of her.

She turned and started off for the entrance of The Mists. She rubbed the sobbing boy's back as she guided him along with her, then stopped a moment, looking back at Daghbheri.

"Are you happy now?" she asked.

He said nothing.

Jancis · **02-20-2015, 06:16 PM**

Jancis woke up early, as usual, getting off of the guest cot. She was dirty; she knew it as she pulled on her shoes and buttoned them. The long walking trip from La Noscea to the Lavender Beds turned out to be quite a trek and the Lady Lynx was taking the 'custody' thing without any leeway. The lack of trust was confusing, that many words were ladened with promises of confidence and carefully given in other cases. It was becoming more clear that the burden the swordswoman carried was heavy and brought her name up to question despite her hardship.

What was more curiuos is how she seemed emboldened by the fact that something was inside her. Lady Lynx never realizing that her own aether could be fueled and funneled, that it was a part of herself. Worst was the fact she didn't want to remove the foreign entity.

Jancis kept quiet and skirted across the long way to the bathing area, wasting no time in scrubbing off the grime from the previous day.

The conjurer had managed to speak to the Ossuary and even use one of the many crystals Master Kohu had given her. It had no aspect and was prime to soak in aether given a reliable source. Should the thing on Lady Lynx pulse or try to soak up power, hopefully the crystal would be a line of defense against the ordeal happening again.

Refreshed and dressed, Jancis headed outside only to find a courier waiting with a ladened envelope, sealed and crisp. It was clear that the man had an idea what was inside and wanted to wait around for the letter to be opened. Sure enough, four shining fresh platium tokens came out, making the courier suck in his breath in anticipation. The contents of the letter were quickly read, then read again...

...there is a matter I would address to you, knowing that you - if found willing - would be able to accomplish much more than myself...The man Franz, who I am aware you are acquainted with, seems to be in a spot of trouble in Ul'dah...If you are ever in the area and feeling inclined, I would be very thankful if you would seek him out...

"Master Franz," Jancis said aloud, her voice thick with concern. Looking at the courier she asked, "Pray stay a moment, Lord? I must needs reply with all haste." The man tried to play it off that he could stick around; that he'd bear the burden as his eyes shined in anticipation of a big tip.

Quickly she ran back inside, finding some paper in Lan's office and wrote a couple letters, her script a bit sloppy in her haste. Thanking the courier over and over, she handed him the letters with gracious bows before running back inside.

Standing there...the courier stared at the door.

"Aw hells," he muttered, going back along with his work.

There was no tip.

Qhora Bajihri · **02-23-2015, 10:24 PM**

Qhora sat on a bench in the Gold Court, staring intently into a steaming cup of something thick and black. When someone sat beside her, she shifted uncomfortably but didn't look up. There was a long silence. Finally, she said quietly, "Everyone thinks you're dead."

"I am."

At this, she looked up. "Right." She frowned at him. "They'll never forgive you."

He smiled back. "Who?"

"Any of them. Especially Sindl." She looked back into her cup, then took a slow sip.

"He'll live."

"They all will." She paused. "Except you?"

"Except me." He nodded.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

She drew a finger across her throat, refusing to meet his gaze. "Please don't tell me it was a girl."

He laughed loud. The sound was harsh in her ears. "It's not that simple."

"But?"

"I didn't kill myself."

"Mm." There was another long silence during which he seemed perfectly comfortable and she felt like ants were crawling along her spine while she finished her drink. Cup empty at last, she sighed, then asked, "What do you want?"

"Tell him I'm sorry?"

"Tell him yourself."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

He grabbed her wrist, rough and unfriendly, forcing her to look up at him. "He can't see me."

She winced. His touch felt like a static shock without the instant release. "W-what?"

"But you. You're dead, too." He let go of her arm and stood up.

Her eyes went wide. She rubbed at her wrist where his fingers left pale marks against her dark skin. "If I am, he can still see me."

He smirked. "I know. It's not that simple."

"I'm not telling him anything for you," she muttered, scowling.

He shrugged. "Do you believe in the Twelve?"

"No. So what?"

He grinned, and she thought she saw poison in his expression. "They believe in you."

"Bullshit," she hissed, but he was already walking away.

Star Lin · **02-23-2015, 11:19 PM**

Kestlona rushed up to the landing dock as the airship was lock into place.Â Her grin grew in a large smile and began to wave her hands over her head as she saw the blond thatch of hair.Â "ALEX!!!"

The older blond midlander looked up, a burn scar under the right eye, and a grin match Kestlona's own smile.Â "Lona, me lass," he called out, making his way off the ramp.Â He laugh as he was caught in the Seawolf's hug.Â "Down you she wolf.Â I not as young as ah use to be."Â He mock pouted as he realized that he couldn't ruffle the girl's hair anymore.Â "You went and grew too tall for me now."Â The smile only grew as she bent down enough for him to ruffle her hair.

****

Alex took a sip of the beer, looking over his student in far more then just throwing punches.Â He watch her lean back in the chair, a relax manner, her 'attention' train on him, and only those that knew what to look for would realize that she was listening to several of the tables around them.Â "So, lass," he said drawing her focus on him, "I arrive back in Limsa, hoping to do some more training with my favorite student, and your old man tells me that you been gone form Limsa for 2 years."Â He tap the table, face serious.Â "So the Wander finally started you on your path?"

Kestlona sigh before letting her chin rest on her hand.Â "I offer to help with anything, from the small folks on the street, to the Immortal Flames themselves and nothing has come of it."Â The finger of her other hand rub along the edge of the beer mug.Â "Alex," she whisper, "was it this hard to know what Oschon wanted of you?"

"Ah," he said, "it can be lass.Â We that follow the Wander never have a clear view of where he's leading us."Â Alex look thoughtful.Â "It will become clear, as big as facing a primal or as small as an ear for someone to talk too."Â He grin, "And when you done what is needed the Wander will pull you along to help somewhere else."Â He tap the mark that was on her forehead.Â "Don't give up just yet or try to move on to soon.Â It will come..." his eyes slide over to the Soldier in Immortal Flame uniform, parchment in hand.Â "...sooner the you realize."

"Kestlona Guhtgeiswyn?" the soldier asked, saluting the two.Â Kestlona stood up, "I was told deliver this too you."Â He saluted again after she took the parchment, waiting her answer.

She quickly read over the parchment, eyes widening as it sat in what this was about.Â "Red Wings...rapid responds....military support..."Â Kestlona gave the soldier a fumble salute.Â "Yes... um please let the commander know that.... um, when he's free I'll be glad to do the interview with him..."Â She sat down hard turning to glare at her long time teacher.Â "You knew..."

"About this," he said pointing to the parchment she still held, "no."Â He gave a sly smile, "Oschon wouldn't have you stay this long without having something plan...even if it's just taking rice to a flooded settlement."

Khadan · **03-05-2015, 06:54 PM**

Recollections of the Stormbringer
Vol. I
16 Cycles ago

The boy sat behind the form of his father, clutching his furred cloak while they rode astride the massive feathered beast. The chocobo was his fatherâ€™s personal mount, a war steed bred for his size, stamina, and intelligence. The animal gave off plenty of warmth from below them yet both the large man and the boy were wrapped tightly against the billowing snowy winds that buffeted them along the high mountain approach they traversed, though even with the appropriate winter clothing the boy huddled and felt chills.

The chills were not necessarily from the cold though occasionally a gust of wind slipped through his cloaks, rather it was for the life he was leaving behind. His home, his friends and family, the safety and security of a childâ€™s private room with his possessionsâ€¦ All of those would be there, still, but he knew that he may never see them again. Of all of them that he would miss it was perhaps his little sister that he would miss the most; his father would be with him, of course, but not as his father as it had been explained to him several times.

Leaning out to the left from the broad muscled back of his father, Kayllen peered up at the looming rampart of the fortress they approached. ThickÂ crenelationsÂ rimmed the main gate of the keep with arrow slits spread evenlyÂ across the top. EachÂ crenelationÂ was curiously sliced at a diagonal angle from the rampart end and slopingÂ gently downwards towards the wall. Kayllen remembered reading about the design being for deflecting dragon fire up and away from soldiers on the ramparts rather than having a â€˜splashâ€™ effect in a flat plane to any standing behind the defensive structure.

Armored figures marched along the keep walls and peered out from high turrets bedecked with the flags and pennants of blue and silver; the colors of the Lecuyer house and of the Temple Knights within. The Lecuyer houseÂ wasn'tÂ necessarily large or even vastly influential on its own, truth be told. It was a vassal house to the largerÂ house Dzemael, a true great house of Ishgard. House Lecuyer served them faithfully. If Dzemael was the â€˜rookâ€™ then Lecuyer was one of the shields that manned its ramparts.

As they neared the portcullis the call went out over the wall to raise the heavy cold-forged iron gate that would allow them entry into what would be Kayllenâ€™s home for the rest of his life. Soon the calls changed from â€œOpen the gate!â€ to â€œThe Lion! The Lion has returned!â€, only to be echoed within the structure. They cheered for his Father, he knew, shouting his title to the heavens and joining the chorus of loud voices that all seemed to be filled with genuine Â reverence and pride. A great clamor could be heard over the walls as men and women rushed to complete their tasks and prepare for the return of their lord and commander.

Leon tugged on the reins to his massive mount and turned somewhat in the saddle, â€œDismount, Kay.â€ He said, his tone still fatherly but Kayllen could feel the warmth slowly draining out of it. The Father was in retreat and the Commander was advancing to the forefront. Lifting his leg over the back of his fatherâ€™s saddle he slid down off the back of the bird. His father soon followed suit and patted the mount lovingly on the neck as he always did. Turning around on him he spoke in a low rumbling tone, â€œAll initiates must walk through the gates on their own feet. You are no exception, my son.â€ The portcullis clanked to its full height and stopped soon followed by the creak of the iron-banded wooden doors being slowly opened.

Leon knelt before the boy, one gloved hand tousling his shoulder-length golden hair. â€œYou know my hair used to be this color, once.â€ The manâ€™s hair still sported a fair degree of the fair color but streaks of grey and white mixed in with it to give him a â€˜pepperedâ€™ appearance. â€œSon,â€ He said, his tone growing slowly grave. â€œWherever you go in this world you will always be my cherished boy. Youâ€™re growing into a fine man and I know youâ€™ll make me proud. You'll do great things one day, change the lives of an important few or a great many.Â â€ His head turned to the now-open gates before them both. Within the forms of running men and women assembling into formation for Leonâ€™s arrival and inspection could be seen. At the center stood a row of children all roughly Kayllenâ€™s age and dressed in black tunics with matching trousers. Elezen boys and girls still shoulder to shoulder with Midlander children of the same and they all looked a bit confused or perhaps adjusting to the momentous event unfolding before them.

With a sigh Leon squeezed Kayllenâ€™s shoulder with one gloved hand, â€œBut within these walls I am your commander first and your Father second. It is important that you realize that now. You will be worked hard. Harder thanÂ you'veÂ ever known. You will be beaten. Broken. Pummeled down and ground into nothingâ€¦ And thenÂ you will be reforged into something -glorious-. Do not fight it, remember the lessonsÂ I'veÂ taught you:Â Discipline. Stillness of mind. Observation. All of these will help you. You will be worked harder than the rest -because- you are my son. No one will go easy on you for fear of angering me and they are right to believe so. Remember that I love you and am proud of you, always.â€ With that Leon, the Lion of Ishgard stood, cupped Kayllenâ€™s cheek in one hand as the boy stared up in awe and some small confusion at his father.

Before he knew what had happened his head reeled and stars danced in his eyes. The vertigo of being unbalanced was met with the hard reality of the ground rushing up to meet him and not cushioning his fall whatsoever. His Father, no his commander, had just struck him he realized. The blow was fast and hard, like being struck with a battering ram the size of a manâ€™s fist. Sprawled out on the snowy ground with his lip bleeding he glanced up at the towering man to question what he had done and why he was being struck only to have the man lean down and start shouting at him! â€œOn your feet initiate! ThisÂ isn'tÂ leisureÂ time! Get into formation!Â Now! Now! Now!â€

Kayllen scrambled to his feet, confused but now also terrified and not wanting to be struck again. Leon pointed at the line of waiting recruits and KayllenÂ didn'tÂ even speak a word. He turned and ran as fast as he couldÂ for the open gates to stand in line with the rest of the recruits, his fatherâ€™s words ringing in his ears along with the recent blow. You will be broken. The boy believed it.

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