Smoke wafted across the window, shifting like foul intentions before the light of truth.
The slight wind that gusted in from the holes in the walls brought with it the smell of the ocean, decay and salt.
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The shack was small and Spartan in its decor, consisting of only a cot and a traveling pack. The windows of the hut stood broken and empty as the wind from a gathering tempest rose on the horizon and blew inland, the ocean writhing in whitecaps in its wake.
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The lone occupant of the ruined, one-room hut stood, gazing with his emerald eyes at the shore and the waving reeds that danced wildly in the rising wind. Smoke rose up in great plums around the man’s aged and tanned face which was pressed into a squint, watching a cloaked figure shuffling its way along a small dirt, path that led to the hut’s door.
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Distant thunder rolled slowly across the vast expanse of coastline, the smell of cold rain filling the air as the temperature began to plunge drastically as the towering thunderheads obscured the sun.
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The man in the hut listened to the sound of his own breathing, slow and steady, composed as always, a trait he prized in his servants. The tobacco in the pipe bowl burned out but the man continued to suck on the stem, his mind elsewhere.
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“Master Adin.â€
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The cloaked figure had drawn close to the hut and had stopped several feet from the window, planting his feet firmly into the sandy ground, his boots sinking in.Â
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The man watched as the cloaked figure removed his hood,revealing him to be a rather unremarkable looking mi’qote with black hair and white eyes. The hyur lifted a hand to his pipe and removed it to speak in his calm, baritone voice.
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“Well met, Rynsur.†Adin replied, his nostrils flaring as the scent of rain grew heavier but he did not invite the miqo’te inside.
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“Master, you must forgive me.†Rynsur said with a salute. Adin watched with his critical eyes. Rynsur was a competent operative, but he lacked the refined mannerism that Jin’li seemed to ooze along with his blood. “I was unprepared to learn you had come to Eorzea yourself. I-“
“You did not know, because you did not need to.â€Â Adin replied simply as his hands pulled a small pouch of tobacco and began to refill the pipe bowl as he spoke. “I need Jin’li where he is. You, however, are not as vital to my efforts in Ul’dah and can move more freely.â€
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Rynsur was unable to hide his dissatisfaction with the answer, the miqot’e pride getting the better of him.
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“I carried out my orders perfectly. It was Jin’li who-â€Rynsur began.
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“It was Jin’li,†Adin started, pausing to light a match, the flame burning in his eyes as he brought it to the bowl and ignited the dried leaves, that soon where smoldering and filling Adin’s mouth with sweet smoke. “Whom followed my orders perfectly. It is Jin’li who continues to confound those who foiled my plot for Ul’dah and it will be Jin’li who will keep the Ul’dah defenders divided and working against one another, just as he did last night when confronted by Lanza Razaul, that woman, and Kahn'a.â€
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“He is just a slave.†Rynsur protested, puffing his chest out.
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“Then what are you then if he is more useful to me?â€Â Adin stood upright and glared at his subordinate. Adin was not wearing his uniform but his body held itself strong and upright, indicating the man was an officer of high standing. Rynsur took a step back andhad to break eye contact at Adin’s expression.
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“I-“ Rynsur started.
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“You are out of line speaking to me that way, Sergeant.â€Â Adin instructed, his voice level but powerful. Adin was silent for a longtime as Rynsur snapped him a salute and held it. It began to drizzle and the thunderheads were meeting the shoreline, the heavier rains about to fall.
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“Since you have a thirst to prove yourself more useful than Jin’li,â€Â Adin mused calmly, his eyes still staring the miqo’te down, “I am putting you in charge of hunting for Askier in Limsa.â€
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“So he is alive?â€
Rynsur inquired, still holding the salute, the drizzle starting to matehis black, oily hair.
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“I have my sources.†Adin answered, taking a deep inhale from his pipes and holding it in his lungs for a moment. As he continued, smoke escaped his lips witheach word. “A certain Flame Sergeant nowin my employee let that slip.â€
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“Sir, do you mean the one you made the bargain with regarding Askier’s freedom in exchange for his service?â€
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Adin nodded but said nothing.
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“But†Rynsur probed, raising his voice as the storm broke and cold water fell in torrents upon him as he still held his salute. “Did you not promise to spare Askier for that man’s service?â€
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“They promised me they would kill Askier. They lied.  A lie begets another lie. Find him, Rynsur.  Do not fail me.†Adin’s voice was cold.
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“I won’t!†Rynsur exclaimed, his body tense as cold water ran down the inside of his robes. Adin watched for a few moments longer, dry inside the hut.
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“Dismissed, Rynsur.â€
Adin ordered at last, turning and walking over to the cot. The hyur settled himself on it and reached over to a small book lying beside him.
He picked it up and began to thumb through it. It was a book on chess, and, although Adin had read it countless times since he was a boy, the man turned to page one and began to re-read it all over again.
The slight wind that gusted in from the holes in the walls brought with it the smell of the ocean, decay and salt.
Â
The shack was small and Spartan in its decor, consisting of only a cot and a traveling pack. The windows of the hut stood broken and empty as the wind from a gathering tempest rose on the horizon and blew inland, the ocean writhing in whitecaps in its wake.
Â
The lone occupant of the ruined, one-room hut stood, gazing with his emerald eyes at the shore and the waving reeds that danced wildly in the rising wind. Smoke rose up in great plums around the man’s aged and tanned face which was pressed into a squint, watching a cloaked figure shuffling its way along a small dirt, path that led to the hut’s door.
Â
Distant thunder rolled slowly across the vast expanse of coastline, the smell of cold rain filling the air as the temperature began to plunge drastically as the towering thunderheads obscured the sun.
Â
The man in the hut listened to the sound of his own breathing, slow and steady, composed as always, a trait he prized in his servants. The tobacco in the pipe bowl burned out but the man continued to suck on the stem, his mind elsewhere.
Â
“Master Adin.â€
Â
The cloaked figure had drawn close to the hut and had stopped several feet from the window, planting his feet firmly into the sandy ground, his boots sinking in.Â
Â
The man watched as the cloaked figure removed his hood,revealing him to be a rather unremarkable looking mi’qote with black hair and white eyes. The hyur lifted a hand to his pipe and removed it to speak in his calm, baritone voice.
Â
“Well met, Rynsur.†Adin replied, his nostrils flaring as the scent of rain grew heavier but he did not invite the miqo’te inside.
Â
“Master, you must forgive me.†Rynsur said with a salute. Adin watched with his critical eyes. Rynsur was a competent operative, but he lacked the refined mannerism that Jin’li seemed to ooze along with his blood. “I was unprepared to learn you had come to Eorzea yourself. I-“
“You did not know, because you did not need to.â€Â Adin replied simply as his hands pulled a small pouch of tobacco and began to refill the pipe bowl as he spoke. “I need Jin’li where he is. You, however, are not as vital to my efforts in Ul’dah and can move more freely.â€
Â
Rynsur was unable to hide his dissatisfaction with the answer, the miqot’e pride getting the better of him.
Â
“I carried out my orders perfectly. It was Jin’li who-â€Rynsur began.
Â
“It was Jin’li,†Adin started, pausing to light a match, the flame burning in his eyes as he brought it to the bowl and ignited the dried leaves, that soon where smoldering and filling Adin’s mouth with sweet smoke. “Whom followed my orders perfectly. It is Jin’li who continues to confound those who foiled my plot for Ul’dah and it will be Jin’li who will keep the Ul’dah defenders divided and working against one another, just as he did last night when confronted by Lanza Razaul, that woman, and Kahn'a.â€
Â
“He is just a slave.†Rynsur protested, puffing his chest out.
Â
“Then what are you then if he is more useful to me?â€Â Adin stood upright and glared at his subordinate. Adin was not wearing his uniform but his body held itself strong and upright, indicating the man was an officer of high standing. Rynsur took a step back andhad to break eye contact at Adin’s expression.
Â
“I-“ Rynsur started.
Â
“You are out of line speaking to me that way, Sergeant.â€Â Adin instructed, his voice level but powerful. Adin was silent for a longtime as Rynsur snapped him a salute and held it. It began to drizzle and the thunderheads were meeting the shoreline, the heavier rains about to fall.
Â
“Since you have a thirst to prove yourself more useful than Jin’li,â€Â Adin mused calmly, his eyes still staring the miqo’te down, “I am putting you in charge of hunting for Askier in Limsa.â€
Â
“So he is alive?â€
Rynsur inquired, still holding the salute, the drizzle starting to matehis black, oily hair.
Â
“I have my sources.†Adin answered, taking a deep inhale from his pipes and holding it in his lungs for a moment. As he continued, smoke escaped his lips witheach word. “A certain Flame Sergeant nowin my employee let that slip.â€
Â
“Sir, do you mean the one you made the bargain with regarding Askier’s freedom in exchange for his service?â€
Â
Adin nodded but said nothing.
Â
“But†Rynsur probed, raising his voice as the storm broke and cold water fell in torrents upon him as he still held his salute. “Did you not promise to spare Askier for that man’s service?â€
Â
“They promised me they would kill Askier. They lied.  A lie begets another lie. Find him, Rynsur.  Do not fail me.†Adin’s voice was cold.
Â
“I won’t!†Rynsur exclaimed, his body tense as cold water ran down the inside of his robes. Adin watched for a few moments longer, dry inside the hut.
Â
“Dismissed, Rynsur.â€
Adin ordered at last, turning and walking over to the cot. The hyur settled himself on it and reached over to a small book lying beside him.
He picked it up and began to thumb through it. It was a book on chess, and, although Adin had read it countless times since he was a boy, the man turned to page one and began to re-read it all over again.
