New Beginnings
"Look what we have here! A new letter has arrived, just for you, Kupo!"
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Roen Deneith smiled as she accepted the letter handed to her by the mail moogle. Her gray eyes lingered on the tiny flying creature, for it was still an exotic thing to her, this moogle; she had never seen one before arriving on Eorzea, and they still perked her curiosity. White and furry, with small pointy wings that in proportion should not be able to support the weight of the creature's round head much less its entire body, the little thing hovered up and down, seemingly fighting the weight of the large red bag full of mail that hung on one shoulder. It cheerfully dispensed letters to those gathered around the Ruby Road Exchange, seemingly indefatigable.
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Roen saw the writing on the envelope and stepped away from the gathered crowd, her fingers carefully opening the letter. It was from her adoptive father, Brenden Deneith. She scanned the letter quickly, a smile widening her lips. He was finally coming to Ul'dah, coming to see the royal healer that Natalie, the Sultansworn that was in charge of her training, had arranged for him. And he was bringing the entire family to the capital city as well: his wife Ana, and their two children, Brenna and Brayden. Roen clasped the letter to her chest and grinned.
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Finally, she thought to herself. Finally her adoptive family would arrive in Ul'dah, and Brenden Deneith would see the best physician Thalanan had to offer. There was still hope that he could be free of the mysterious ailment that so weakened him, shaking his bones and weakening his limbs. Roen had worked tirelessly since arriving in Ul'dah in order to make what gil she could to send back to them, so that he could seek treatments. But no cure was to be found - at least none in Southern Thalanan. Â
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Now, at long last, her father was coming to the city of the Sultana. If a cure was to be found anywhere in Thalanan, it would be here.
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Roen held the letter close in her hands as she sat onto a bench, inhaling deeply as she looked to the skies above. A canopy of ornate green tapestries hung from lamp posts, providing welcomed respite from the sun, the carved stone walls of the buildings glowing in a golden hue under the sunlight. She remembered gazing upon the sight with awe when she first arrived in Ul'dah, only a short few moons ago. So much had happened since.
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She had been writing Brenden every fifth sun of each new moon, just short letters and updates, but sharing with him - as much as she could - the wonders of Ul'dah. She had never been one for written words in the past, but Brenden adored letters, and had asked her to write often. So she did, every fifth sun, just to let him know she was faring well.Â
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Though in truth,"well" was a gross understatement of all the things that had happened to her in the last many moons.
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Roen did not include many details purposefully. She did not want to worry him. She wrote of the mercenary group she had joined initially. She wrote to him about seeking mentors in her quest to become a paladin, and of entering the coliseum to train as a gladiator, and of meeting Ser Jenlyns who would initiate her formal paladin training. Â
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She did not write to him about being fired from said mercenary group, nor of being dismissed by Ser Jenlyns after being absent from the city for a prolonged period of time; the path to becoming a paladin did not account for someone who was also trying to make ends meet. She earned what gil she could by mining ore in the most desolate reaches of Thanalan, sending it back to Brenden and Ana. She did not write of her first two paladin mentors either, both of whom nearly died.Â
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She did write of Natalie, the Sultansworn who had arranged for her reintroduction to the path of a paladin, and was, more importantly, a staunch friend and ally. The letters also mentioned friends she had met, people who had become dear to her; Siha, and Nazeru, and Dandaroun, and more. Roen could not wait until she could introduce them to her family.Â
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A small chuckle escaped her lips. Just five moons ago, Roen would have never entertained such a social affair, so guarded had she been when she first arrived in Ul'dah. She was seeking her new path here, but was so fearful that others may somehow discover her past: the one that led back to her true homeland in Garlemald.Â
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Her previous life seemed so far away now, almost like someone else's forgotten memory obscured in her mind. Memories of it rarely rose to the fore. The past five years in Eorzea had helped Roen forge a new life - the rebirth her heart had long yearned for, following the death and destruction the Calamity had brought, witnessed by her own two eyes. The man who had sired her - the man she refused to call "father" - had been partly responsible for the descent of Dalamud. The blood was on his hands, aye, but Roen felt it on hers as well. The guilt still weighed heavy, still, five years past. Roen had naively volunteered in Nael van Darnus's army at Carteneau. She hadn't known any better at the time, had only been a headstrong girl with no real truths set before her save those given to every person in Garlemald.Â
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But the truth was hard to deny: she had raised her sword against those she walked alongside now. The same people who now she called Sister. Friend. Mentor. Would they call her a traitor if they knew?
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Roen breathed in deep, dismissing the dark thoughts. They had not plagued her nightmares for many moons now, and she was not about to let them return. Her life is beginning anew, and the letter in her hand had good tidings and a chance at a new life for her adopted family. Roen held onto it dearly.
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It was in that quiet moment that a small hyur boy ran up to her. Judging by his dark complexion and the broad set to his jaw, Roen guessed him to be a Highlander youth. He wore no shirt, although that was not rare in the desert city, his bare feet padding over the cobblestones without a sound. His ragged hempen pants were torn at the edges. His brown eyes looked her up and down before he leaned forward and spoke quietly. "You are Roen Deneith?"
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Roen blinked."Aye," she said, nodding. "I am."
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The scrawny boy kept his head low, as if to escape notice from anyone else. "I have a message from Aylard Greyarm. He received the missive from the son of Wolfsong. He will meet with you in two suns, just outside of Ul'dah's gates after the sun sets, at Fresca's Wash." The boy scanned the street left and right before meeting her eyes again. "So you will meet with him?"
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"I will," Roen said, but before she could ask him any questions, the boy scampered off, disappearing around the corner.
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Roen's eyes narrowed as she looked to where the boy had gone. The Resistance, she thought. Members of such an organization would not make a habit of announcing their business or plans for the public to take note. It would not make for the longevity of their career or lives.
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Roen tucked the letter away, her thoughts set to new purpose. Even with her new family soon to arrive in Ul'dah, she could not relinquish the search of any news regarding her old one, not if any of them were also to be found in Eorzea. The discovery that she was able to channel aether - something pure Garleans were rarely able to do - led her to the fact that her maternal line may have had Highlander blood. Her grandmother could have been a conjurer; Roen began to hope that there might be a trace of that lineage found south of Ala Mhigo. She had traveled to Little Ala Mhigo in hope of some answers, and found out that a conjurer that bore close resemblance to herself was known to the Resistance.
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This information was still hard for Roen to fathom. Her father had been instrumental in bringing Ala Mhigo under the Empire's rule, yet her mother's mother could have been part of the movement that fought against Garlemald? It was far too strange.
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'You worry too much,duckling,'Â she heard a voice in her.
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The voice belonged to Miss Delial, the Highlander woman that Roen had met during her trek to Little Ala Mhigo. The dark-skinned woman had been instrumental in her providing information regarding her grandmother - including the fact that she may have been associated with the Resistance. Roen had run into Miss Delial a few times in Ul'dah following their first meeting, for the woman worked as a curator at the Hall of Antiquities. Roen had found her helpful, and her confidence charming. Her one good eye was light hazel in color while the other one had a scar through it and was milky white, lending an odd, piercing quality to her gaze. Delial herself admitted she could seem intimidating, but her ever helpful nature had earned Roen's gratitude from the first day they met. They were discussing Roen's search for her family just yesterday when Gharen Wolfsong walked by them.
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Roen shook her head. Even a small memory of him gave her pause. Set your mind to purpose, Roen, she reminded herself.
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Gharen, or Master Gharen as she called him since their first lesson many moons ago with sword and shield, had told her that members of the Resistance had once sought him out for his aid. They shared news with him of his blood and true lineage - things Gharen himself was not aware. Yesterday, when he encountered her with Miss Delial on the very same road she was standing on now, he told her that he had agreed to join their cause. Â
That made her pause again. What did that mean, to join them? Was he to travel back to Ala Mhigo? Was he going to leave?
Roen did not ask him. Partly because of the company they were in, and partly because...
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She had resolved to herself that his path was his to choose, independent of anything that she may or may not feel for the man. Roen told herself he deserved happiness when he had found another, and that she was happy for that. She was not going to make things awkward by revealing her feelings - partly because she did not truly know what they were.Â
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And now he was joining the Resistance. They knew of his family, could have been his family. Could she blame him?
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Gharen Wolfsong. She did not write about him in her letters to Brenden Deneith, either. She told herself it was because she would not know what to say of him. Â
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Mind to purpose. Roen inhaled sharply and stood. She would send Miss Delial a missive regarding this meeting. The woman had expressed interest in making herself known to the Resistance as well, said she was tired of looking through dust and rocks and now sought to do what was right. The Highlander woman seemed eager to look to a new path and new beginnings. Roen understood this instinct well.
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"The Spinner has greater things in store for us," Delial had said to her in their last meeting. Â
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For us all, Roen added to herself as she began to make her way toward the Quicksand.
