This was the first story written from start to finish with Aden as he is actually played in-game in mind, so you'll notice a shift in tone. This is roughly six months after he arrived in Gridania, and a couple of days after he met Flynt, Ritsu, Roger, and Kiri.
![[Image: tumblr_nzosx0UbEK1v0ltaqo2_r2_1280.png]](https://40.media.tumblr.com/ad3bee96533553de4327d8fcd1defd67/tumblr_nzosx0UbEK1v0ltaqo2_r2_1280.png)
Weaving twixt great boulders it reaches, finally, that grand precipice and thrusts forth into open air, where the mist hangs crystalline ‘round the rushing water. I took a moment to sight my companions still catching up before I ventured out to that edge, peering over to see the second lip of the fall, thunderous torrent pounding at the stone so intensely it had begun in some age past to form a small pool. And yet I wanted to see the fall’s final fate, to look over the true edge. There peeked from one side a spur of rock, worn smooth on both sides by the stream’s inexorable journey, and here, I hoped, I might catch my glimpse.
I signaled my intent to Aretta, that the others knowing what I meant to do might not follow, then touched down lightly on that slick spur, the swift water of the fall licking up at my feet like flames might from a fire. And leaning forward I could see that the fall took its great plunge from here, a dizzying distance, so far the bulk of the rush turned to that crystalline mist before reaching the valley floor below. It called to me, that great height, that expanse of open air, and for a moment I stood rapt, captivated between desire and duty. For that dizzying plunge, surrounded by mist, the distant pines rushing up, and the roar of the wind against the roar of the falls–how often had I made so grand a leap in peace? And when would I ever have the opportunity again, in such enchanting environs? Yet I doubted my ability to make the return trip, for I saw no purchase on the cliff below–indeed, it seemed to recede under the thunderous weight of the falls. It would be days of bushwhacking to find my way back–
“Hey!†Aden hastily looked up at the shout, torn from the immersive sensory cocoon of his reading, all too aware now that he perched rather on a stool meant for reaching higher shelves. The elderly lalafell from the counter leaned in at the end of the row, glaring over her half-moon spectacles. “Buy something or get out! This isn’t a charity.â€
He stared at her for a moment, a little surprised at the vitriol in her tone, and still caught up in the scene of the travelogue. But he rose in a sort of daze, stepping down off the stool, book still in hand. She glared still, looking down at the book, and even after she returned to her desk kept a careful eye on him, as if she expected him to bolt with it.
Instead he put it down on her counter, finally rousing from his daze, suddenly feeling very sheepish for getting so rapt, and out in the open, no less. “Sorry,†he said, and he started fishing for the gil to buy the tattered book from her. “I just get caught up in these things.â€
She still eyed him warily, but she picked up the book and thumbed through it, fanning the pages far too fast to read. He put his money down on the counter, and she peered up over her glasses, silent. Finally she put the book down and said, “If this is the sort of thing you fancy, I may have something of particular interest to you. Follow me.†She hopped down from the high stool that brought her to counter height, and started off across the store, only looking back once to see if he followed. And Aden did, after a moment of surprise at the sudden change in her demeanor.
She trotted through the store, making a show of inspecting shelves. She came across a stack someone had carelessly left on the floor, and tutted at it. “These go up top,†she said. “Would you mind?â€
It was a perfectly reasonable request, and Aden easily reached the highest shelves with one of the little stools–intended clearly more for someone his height than for the lalafell proprietor. He didn’t ask about the system she used for keeping order, for it seemed rather obvious, and when he finished she clucked her tongue, said nothing and moved on.
She did that twice again, noticing books out of place well above her reach, and when asked Aden obliged. He grew suspicious, though; everything seemed so well in order, save where someone of greater height had carelessly misplaced a book, and he wondered why it would take her so long.
She led him up the stairs, and here repeated her show. He grew weary of it, realizing she only did this to extract the free labor from him, but he bit his tongue–he’d already done something apparently impolite in the store and he wouldn’t repeat it. He simply wouldn’t come back after this.
“Perhaps,†she muttered to herself, “I left them in storage?†She tapped her chin with a finger, then headed over to a door. Opening it revealed a thin, rickety staircase, which she trotted up without hesitation. Aden followed, swallowing an exasperated sigh.
They came out into an open, airy attic, the steep pitch of the roof plain above them. Here sat several crates, and some mysterious objects covered in drop cloth. She tottered over to one and whisked the cloth off, revealing a stack of trunks half again her height. She deftly climbed up onto one, then threw the sturdy latches on the top trunk. “Here we are,†she said. Inside lay several books, bound in soft brown leather, silver gilt on the spine just beginning to fade. “The full accounting of Lord Estellaint’s expedition. Illustrated, no less. The plates in these were hand-colored by the bard who accompanied him.â€
After a soft, indistinct sound of surprise Aden said, “They’re handwritten, then?†He’d seen the work referenced many times as an inspiration, but it was from before the press.
“Oh yes,†she said, and she looked up at him now with a soft smile, seeming to bask in his unabashed delight. “These belonged to my daughter–her search for them got me into this business, trading rare books at first. Bless her dear, sweet soul.â€
“I’m sorry,†Aden said, turning his attention from the books to the proprietor. “What happened to her?â€
Her little face suddenly screwed up into a scowl, and she drew back a little. “Nothing! Bloodiest hells, you say one sweet thing and everyone thinks your girl’s deceased–she read a damn book and got a fool idea in her head and now she’s a bloody successful exploratory botanist, that’s what happened! What happened–†She scoffed, tossing her head slightly.
“I’m sorry!†Aden repeated, though her demeanor amused him now more than anything else.
“Anyway,†she said, crossing her arms, “I couldn’t possibly part with these. They’re too dear, and my sweet girl would kill me. But I could be persuaded to let them out of the store, one at a time, in return for a couple of bells of help a day, in the evening, from a strapping young lad.†She jerked her chin up at him. “And there would be the more traditional compensation as well.â€
Aden laughed softly, the ridiculousness of this entire situation suddenly hitting him–she’d gone from eyeing him as a thief to offering him a job in the span of half a bell. He considered it–the work would be easy after everything else he did in a day now, though it left very little room for time to himself. Still, it might be good, quiet work for the end of the day. “Well I’ll certainly give it a try,†he said.
“Excellent!†she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow–though I won’t part with a book until then, I hope you’ll understand.â€
“So long as you’ll part with the one I’m paying for.â€
“Oh!†She hopped down off the trunk, suddenly bustling for the door. “Heavens, I just left everything sitting on the counter didn’t I? This getting old thing is for the birds!â€
Stacks
Weaving twixt great boulders it reaches, finally, that grand precipice and thrusts forth into open air, where the mist hangs crystalline ‘round the rushing water. I took a moment to sight my companions still catching up before I ventured out to that edge, peering over to see the second lip of the fall, thunderous torrent pounding at the stone so intensely it had begun in some age past to form a small pool. And yet I wanted to see the fall’s final fate, to look over the true edge. There peeked from one side a spur of rock, worn smooth on both sides by the stream’s inexorable journey, and here, I hoped, I might catch my glimpse.
I signaled my intent to Aretta, that the others knowing what I meant to do might not follow, then touched down lightly on that slick spur, the swift water of the fall licking up at my feet like flames might from a fire. And leaning forward I could see that the fall took its great plunge from here, a dizzying distance, so far the bulk of the rush turned to that crystalline mist before reaching the valley floor below. It called to me, that great height, that expanse of open air, and for a moment I stood rapt, captivated between desire and duty. For that dizzying plunge, surrounded by mist, the distant pines rushing up, and the roar of the wind against the roar of the falls–how often had I made so grand a leap in peace? And when would I ever have the opportunity again, in such enchanting environs? Yet I doubted my ability to make the return trip, for I saw no purchase on the cliff below–indeed, it seemed to recede under the thunderous weight of the falls. It would be days of bushwhacking to find my way back–
“Hey!†Aden hastily looked up at the shout, torn from the immersive sensory cocoon of his reading, all too aware now that he perched rather on a stool meant for reaching higher shelves. The elderly lalafell from the counter leaned in at the end of the row, glaring over her half-moon spectacles. “Buy something or get out! This isn’t a charity.â€
He stared at her for a moment, a little surprised at the vitriol in her tone, and still caught up in the scene of the travelogue. But he rose in a sort of daze, stepping down off the stool, book still in hand. She glared still, looking down at the book, and even after she returned to her desk kept a careful eye on him, as if she expected him to bolt with it.
Instead he put it down on her counter, finally rousing from his daze, suddenly feeling very sheepish for getting so rapt, and out in the open, no less. “Sorry,†he said, and he started fishing for the gil to buy the tattered book from her. “I just get caught up in these things.â€
She still eyed him warily, but she picked up the book and thumbed through it, fanning the pages far too fast to read. He put his money down on the counter, and she peered up over her glasses, silent. Finally she put the book down and said, “If this is the sort of thing you fancy, I may have something of particular interest to you. Follow me.†She hopped down from the high stool that brought her to counter height, and started off across the store, only looking back once to see if he followed. And Aden did, after a moment of surprise at the sudden change in her demeanor.
She trotted through the store, making a show of inspecting shelves. She came across a stack someone had carelessly left on the floor, and tutted at it. “These go up top,†she said. “Would you mind?â€
It was a perfectly reasonable request, and Aden easily reached the highest shelves with one of the little stools–intended clearly more for someone his height than for the lalafell proprietor. He didn’t ask about the system she used for keeping order, for it seemed rather obvious, and when he finished she clucked her tongue, said nothing and moved on.
She did that twice again, noticing books out of place well above her reach, and when asked Aden obliged. He grew suspicious, though; everything seemed so well in order, save where someone of greater height had carelessly misplaced a book, and he wondered why it would take her so long.
She led him up the stairs, and here repeated her show. He grew weary of it, realizing she only did this to extract the free labor from him, but he bit his tongue–he’d already done something apparently impolite in the store and he wouldn’t repeat it. He simply wouldn’t come back after this.
“Perhaps,†she muttered to herself, “I left them in storage?†She tapped her chin with a finger, then headed over to a door. Opening it revealed a thin, rickety staircase, which she trotted up without hesitation. Aden followed, swallowing an exasperated sigh.
They came out into an open, airy attic, the steep pitch of the roof plain above them. Here sat several crates, and some mysterious objects covered in drop cloth. She tottered over to one and whisked the cloth off, revealing a stack of trunks half again her height. She deftly climbed up onto one, then threw the sturdy latches on the top trunk. “Here we are,†she said. Inside lay several books, bound in soft brown leather, silver gilt on the spine just beginning to fade. “The full accounting of Lord Estellaint’s expedition. Illustrated, no less. The plates in these were hand-colored by the bard who accompanied him.â€
After a soft, indistinct sound of surprise Aden said, “They’re handwritten, then?†He’d seen the work referenced many times as an inspiration, but it was from before the press.
“Oh yes,†she said, and she looked up at him now with a soft smile, seeming to bask in his unabashed delight. “These belonged to my daughter–her search for them got me into this business, trading rare books at first. Bless her dear, sweet soul.â€
“I’m sorry,†Aden said, turning his attention from the books to the proprietor. “What happened to her?â€
Her little face suddenly screwed up into a scowl, and she drew back a little. “Nothing! Bloodiest hells, you say one sweet thing and everyone thinks your girl’s deceased–she read a damn book and got a fool idea in her head and now she’s a bloody successful exploratory botanist, that’s what happened! What happened–†She scoffed, tossing her head slightly.
“I’m sorry!†Aden repeated, though her demeanor amused him now more than anything else.
“Anyway,†she said, crossing her arms, “I couldn’t possibly part with these. They’re too dear, and my sweet girl would kill me. But I could be persuaded to let them out of the store, one at a time, in return for a couple of bells of help a day, in the evening, from a strapping young lad.†She jerked her chin up at him. “And there would be the more traditional compensation as well.â€
Aden laughed softly, the ridiculousness of this entire situation suddenly hitting him–she’d gone from eyeing him as a thief to offering him a job in the span of half a bell. He considered it–the work would be easy after everything else he did in a day now, though it left very little room for time to himself. Still, it might be good, quiet work for the end of the day. “Well I’ll certainly give it a try,†he said.
“Excellent!†she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow–though I won’t part with a book until then, I hope you’ll understand.â€
“So long as you’ll part with the one I’m paying for.â€
“Oh!†She hopped down off the trunk, suddenly bustling for the door. “Heavens, I just left everything sitting on the counter didn’t I? This getting old thing is for the birds!â€
