Somewhere in the future...
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Spoilered for length
His life was complete.
That is what he wrote on that very fateful day when all the pieces of the puzzle stuck together, the journal that he keeps separate from all of his other journals and diaries that kept all of his worries, his fears, his nightmares, from this day on, will be no more.
As he walks the paths of the forests of the Shroud, that very book in hand, he takes the time to think about what he had accomplished. He had found love, a family, a home and, most importantly, he had found his purpose and had no doubts that he isn't as useless as he first thought the very day that he set foot into the wide, dangerous world that was Eorzea.
He has a very loving wife, one who was her own person, yet acted as one with him, a wonderful family, consisting of a carbuncle, a fairy and a number of children. With the aid of his free company, they were able to acquire the largest house in Lavender Beds in the most beautiful, secluded spot they could find.
He pauses in his steps as he reaches a good spot, the lifemend stump, as he had been told it was called. He remembers this spot, it was the very first place that he and his, at the time, girlfriend fell deeply in love and they became near inseparable ever since. He was overjoyed on that day, and so was she.
He holds the book of his fears, his worries, his worst nightmares aloft, muttering something to himself while his fingers idly trace a pattern in the air. He had become a great arcanist, a good, kind-hearted, helpful one, one who had achieved what he set out to do, to learn more about the world, its inhabitants, his self, to get out from behind the books and experience the world for what it is.
As he finishes tracing the pattern, eyes closed, he feels a burning sensation as the book flares up in his hand, the words contained within its very pages seemingly disappearing into the aether, glad that he is wearing gloves for this very occasion.
He lets his mind let go of all the negativity that he had thought and caused in the past, times when he had caused himself grief because of his fears, times when he may have caused grief for his wife, times for when he may have caused grief for anyone. The chapter of wanting is all over now.
Knowledge, is what he'd expected. Friends. Love. Family. Home. These were all things that he didn't expect to get out of the deal, but, now, in hindsight, it was as though Llymlaen knew had navigated him through his darkest hour, as though Menphina pointed out his one true love to him, as though Thaliak blessed him with the knowledge of many scholars long past, as though Nymeia guided him to his fate, as though Oschon, the one deity of the people that he was initially studying, was taking care of him and his loved ones as he and they travelled the world.
Nay, it was as though the Twelve smiled upon him, feeling that he had suffered enough, and that he deserves to be happy, if only he worked for it, and worked for it he did.
As the book and its pages burn away, the miqo'te's ears twitch, a soft, gentle smile on his lips as he removes the trademark glasses that he was rarely seen without, seen without them by only a select few people, most of all, his wife. His sight, his vision much more clear than ever before, tears of joy staining his face.
"Mommy... daddy... I-I did it... ar-are you proud of me?"
His life was complete.
That is what he wrote on that very fateful day when all the pieces of the puzzle stuck together, the journal that he keeps separate from all of his other journals and diaries that kept all of his worries, his fears, his nightmares, from this day on, will be no more.
As he walks the paths of the forests of the Shroud, that very book in hand, he takes the time to think about what he had accomplished. He had found love, a family, a home and, most importantly, he had found his purpose and had no doubts that he isn't as useless as he first thought the very day that he set foot into the wide, dangerous world that was Eorzea.
He has a very loving wife, one who was her own person, yet acted as one with him, a wonderful family, consisting of a carbuncle, a fairy and a number of children. With the aid of his free company, they were able to acquire the largest house in Lavender Beds in the most beautiful, secluded spot they could find.
He pauses in his steps as he reaches a good spot, the lifemend stump, as he had been told it was called. He remembers this spot, it was the very first place that he and his, at the time, girlfriend fell deeply in love and they became near inseparable ever since. He was overjoyed on that day, and so was she.
He holds the book of his fears, his worries, his worst nightmares aloft, muttering something to himself while his fingers idly trace a pattern in the air. He had become a great arcanist, a good, kind-hearted, helpful one, one who had achieved what he set out to do, to learn more about the world, its inhabitants, his self, to get out from behind the books and experience the world for what it is.
As he finishes tracing the pattern, eyes closed, he feels a burning sensation as the book flares up in his hand, the words contained within its very pages seemingly disappearing into the aether, glad that he is wearing gloves for this very occasion.
He lets his mind let go of all the negativity that he had thought and caused in the past, times when he had caused himself grief because of his fears, times when he may have caused grief for his wife, times for when he may have caused grief for anyone. The chapter of wanting is all over now.
Knowledge, is what he'd expected. Friends. Love. Family. Home. These were all things that he didn't expect to get out of the deal, but, now, in hindsight, it was as though Llymlaen knew had navigated him through his darkest hour, as though Menphina pointed out his one true love to him, as though Thaliak blessed him with the knowledge of many scholars long past, as though Nymeia guided him to his fate, as though Oschon, the one deity of the people that he was initially studying, was taking care of him and his loved ones as he and they travelled the world.
Nay, it was as though the Twelve smiled upon him, feeling that he had suffered enough, and that he deserves to be happy, if only he worked for it, and worked for it he did.
As the book and its pages burn away, the miqo'te's ears twitch, a soft, gentle smile on his lips as he removes the trademark glasses that he was rarely seen without, seen without them by only a select few people, most of all, his wife. His sight, his vision much more clear than ever before, tears of joy staining his face.
"Mommy... daddy... I-I did it... ar-are you proud of me?"
