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 father’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 child’s private room with his possessions… 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. Thick crenelations rimmed the main gate of the keep with arrow slits spread evenly across the top. Each crenelation was curiously sliced at a diagonal angle from the rampart end and sloping 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 ‘splash’ 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 house wasn't necessarily large or even vastly influential on its own, truth be told. It was a vassal house to the larger house Dzemael, a true great house of Ishgard. House Lecuyer served them faithfully. If Dzemael was the ‘rook’ 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 Kayllen’s home for the rest of his life. Soon the calls changed from “Open the gate!†to “The 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  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, “Dismount, Kay.†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 father’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, “All initiates must walk through the gates on their own feet. You are no exception, my son.†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. “You know my hair used to be this color, once.†The man’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 ‘peppered’ appearance. “Son,†He said, his tone growing slowly grave. “Wherever you go in this world you will always be my cherished boy. You’re growing into a fine man and I know you’ll make me proud. You'll do great things one day, change the lives of an important few or a great many. †His head turned to the now-open gates before them both. Within the forms of running men and women assembling into formation for Leon’s arrival and inspection could be seen. At the center stood a row of children all roughly Kayllen’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 Kayllen’s shoulder with one gloved hand, “But 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 than you've ever known. You will be beaten. Broken. Pummeled down and ground into nothing… And then you will be reforged into something -glorious-. Do not fight it, remember the lessons I've taught you: 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.†With that Leon, the Lion of Ishgard stood, cupped Kayllen’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 man’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! “On your feet initiate! This isn't leisure time! Get into formation! 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 Kayllen didn't even speak a word. He turned and ran as fast as he could for the open gates to stand in line with the rest of the recruits, his father’s words ringing in his ears along with the recent blow. You will be broken. The boy believed it.
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 father’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 child’s private room with his possessions… 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. Thick crenelations rimmed the main gate of the keep with arrow slits spread evenly across the top. Each crenelation was curiously sliced at a diagonal angle from the rampart end and sloping 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 ‘splash’ 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 house wasn't necessarily large or even vastly influential on its own, truth be told. It was a vassal house to the larger house Dzemael, a true great house of Ishgard. House Lecuyer served them faithfully. If Dzemael was the ‘rook’ 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 Kayllen’s home for the rest of his life. Soon the calls changed from “Open the gate!†to “The 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  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, “Dismount, Kay.†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 father’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, “All initiates must walk through the gates on their own feet. You are no exception, my son.†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. “You know my hair used to be this color, once.†The man’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 ‘peppered’ appearance. “Son,†He said, his tone growing slowly grave. “Wherever you go in this world you will always be my cherished boy. You’re growing into a fine man and I know you’ll make me proud. You'll do great things one day, change the lives of an important few or a great many. †His head turned to the now-open gates before them both. Within the forms of running men and women assembling into formation for Leon’s arrival and inspection could be seen. At the center stood a row of children all roughly Kayllen’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 Kayllen’s shoulder with one gloved hand, “But 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 than you've ever known. You will be beaten. Broken. Pummeled down and ground into nothing… And then you will be reforged into something -glorious-. Do not fight it, remember the lessons I've taught you: 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.†With that Leon, the Lion of Ishgard stood, cupped Kayllen’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 man’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! “On your feet initiate! This isn't leisure time! Get into formation! 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 Kayllen didn't even speak a word. He turned and ran as fast as he could for the open gates to stand in line with the rest of the recruits, his father’s words ringing in his ears along with the recent blow. You will be broken. The boy believed it.
