Who are you?
[Man’s voice. Black screen.]
Opens to close-up of dusty booted feet, walking on cracked dry mud. Sand blows. Gloomy grey cast. Low, desolate music in the background.
[Woman’s voice. Soft, apprehensive.]Â
What…?
Cuts to the back of a young woman’s head, walking through a slum market. Long silver hair, dusted with sand. Visibly protruding, conocular black horns. Civilians go about their business. Rickety stands set up on an arid desert ground. No one pays her mind.
[Man’s voice. Calm, interested.]
You. Where did you come from?
Cut to the front of the young woman, waist-up. Crude, two piece linen garb. Arms and abdomen exposed. Slender, pale Xaela face, green eyes. Behind her, hazy grey-orange sky. The woman looks uncertain. Her eyes wander.
[Woman’s voice, distressed.]Â
I don’t understand the question…
Something catches the woman’s attention. She looks down, startled. Cut to the upturned face of a young child, tugging on the woman’s skirt.
[Calm man’s voice.]
How did you get here?Â
The woman kneels. Hair blows against her face in a desert wind. Eye-level with the child, she gives a sad smile. She unpockets a stitched doll from her satchel and offers it.Â
The child looks delighted. Beaming at the woman, she takes the doll and scampers off.
The woman watches her go, looking wistful. She stands. Slow zoom into her face. Her smile fades. Zoom into her green eyes. They look faraway.Â
Desolate music begins to crescendo.
[Calm man’s voice.]
Just what is it that you do?
A feverish montage begins.
Â
A sobbing Auri child, tied to a tree.
Cheerfully bulging saddlebags, a horse carrying two riders, one a child.
A thick mug falls to the ground, spilling ale on a wooden floor.
A bearded, red-headed man guffawing fruitily.
[Music continues to ascend into a foreboding forte.]
A knife covered in blood, stabbing something unseen, again and again.
A handsome, well-dressed Elezen man, speaking with a smile.
A gloved hand, stroking the green-eyed woman’s cheek.
[The montage grows in madness and rapidity.]
A convulsing outlaw with his eyes rolled back, foaming at the mouth.Â
A back shot of the woman running, silver hair flying, looking over her shoulder, terrified.
[The scenes begins to blur into incomprehensible chaos.]
Various doors slamming, iron gates being pulled shut.
The woman staggering barefooted in a crowded city, clutching her middle.Â
[Man’s voice once more, firmer.]
Who are you?
[The music screeches into a high pitched fortissimo. Just as it reaches a shrill, ear-splitting peak…]
A fire. A violet-haired young woman pinned beneath a burning, fallen structure. Hand outstretched and tears down her face, she screams something inaudible.Â
[Silence. Montage abruptly ceases.]
Fade in back to the green eyes. They’re filled with tears. They slowly close.Â
[Woman’s voice, vacant.]
I’m nobody.
[Screen goes black.]
[Man’s voice. Black screen.]
Opens to close-up of dusty booted feet, walking on cracked dry mud. Sand blows. Gloomy grey cast. Low, desolate music in the background.
[Woman’s voice. Soft, apprehensive.]Â
What…?
Cuts to the back of a young woman’s head, walking through a slum market. Long silver hair, dusted with sand. Visibly protruding, conocular black horns. Civilians go about their business. Rickety stands set up on an arid desert ground. No one pays her mind.
[Man’s voice. Calm, interested.]
You. Where did you come from?
Cut to the front of the young woman, waist-up. Crude, two piece linen garb. Arms and abdomen exposed. Slender, pale Xaela face, green eyes. Behind her, hazy grey-orange sky. The woman looks uncertain. Her eyes wander.
[Woman’s voice, distressed.]Â
I don’t understand the question…
Something catches the woman’s attention. She looks down, startled. Cut to the upturned face of a young child, tugging on the woman’s skirt.
[Calm man’s voice.]
How did you get here?Â
The woman kneels. Hair blows against her face in a desert wind. Eye-level with the child, she gives a sad smile. She unpockets a stitched doll from her satchel and offers it.Â
The child looks delighted. Beaming at the woman, she takes the doll and scampers off.
The woman watches her go, looking wistful. She stands. Slow zoom into her face. Her smile fades. Zoom into her green eyes. They look faraway.Â
Desolate music begins to crescendo.
[Calm man’s voice.]
Just what is it that you do?
A feverish montage begins.
Â
A sobbing Auri child, tied to a tree.
Cheerfully bulging saddlebags, a horse carrying two riders, one a child.
A thick mug falls to the ground, spilling ale on a wooden floor.
A bearded, red-headed man guffawing fruitily.
[Music continues to ascend into a foreboding forte.]
A knife covered in blood, stabbing something unseen, again and again.
A handsome, well-dressed Elezen man, speaking with a smile.
A gloved hand, stroking the green-eyed woman’s cheek.
[The montage grows in madness and rapidity.]
A convulsing outlaw with his eyes rolled back, foaming at the mouth.Â
A back shot of the woman running, silver hair flying, looking over her shoulder, terrified.
[The scenes begins to blur into incomprehensible chaos.]
Various doors slamming, iron gates being pulled shut.
The woman staggering barefooted in a crowded city, clutching her middle.Â
[Man’s voice once more, firmer.]
Who are you?
[The music screeches into a high pitched fortissimo. Just as it reaches a shrill, ear-splitting peak…]
A fire. A violet-haired young woman pinned beneath a burning, fallen structure. Hand outstretched and tears down her face, she screams something inaudible.Â
[Silence. Montage abruptly ceases.]
Fade in back to the green eyes. They’re filled with tears. They slowly close.Â
[Woman’s voice, vacant.]
I’m nobody.
[Screen goes black.]
