Cypress had a name. D’aijeen. Another piece along the broken trail that she followed. The duskwright may have been wrong about the conversation he’d inadvertently arranged. It wasn't easy, pulling teeth from the mother. Nor was it pleasant, but it seemed that nothing she ever did was. She was not a liar though. She had told the truth when she had said that she had no wish to bring harm upon the girl. But neither was it an option to simply let her continue with her necromantic dabbles, if indeed that was all they were. In this instance, it did not matter if she was responsible for the flood, or that she was a mother’s little girl. The voidsent scrambled to make their way back into this world, where they did not belong; madness and desperation apart of their very being.
The man in the shroud, whatever voidsent that possessed him had not been long in the void before being dragged back across the gate. Or at least that was what she had to suppose. She would have liked to have spent longer in its company, but it had to have been recalled against its will, not even aware of its own nature. Close enough to a person that it wasn't a danger to those around it. The memory of her grandfather was etched in her mind, crawling his way from the depths of the cavern, dead but for the thing inside him; struggling to keep control of a body that was no good to any but perhaps the fauna. Grappling at her ankles for a better anchor to the world.
‘D’aijeen. D’aijeen.’ Cypress let the name roll over in her thoughts as she walked down the city streets. Her time sitting amongst the refugees had perhaps not been such a wasted gift. She knew far more now about the customs of others. Knew that Miqo’te were tight-knit, preferring to live in family communities. That they shared part of their name with the rest of their family. If her parents were in Ul’dah, it would stand to reason this girl would be as well. She only needed to find the community that shared her name.
The man in the shroud, whatever voidsent that possessed him had not been long in the void before being dragged back across the gate. Or at least that was what she had to suppose. She would have liked to have spent longer in its company, but it had to have been recalled against its will, not even aware of its own nature. Close enough to a person that it wasn't a danger to those around it. The memory of her grandfather was etched in her mind, crawling his way from the depths of the cavern, dead but for the thing inside him; struggling to keep control of a body that was no good to any but perhaps the fauna. Grappling at her ankles for a better anchor to the world.
‘D’aijeen. D’aijeen.’ Cypress let the name roll over in her thoughts as she walked down the city streets. Her time sitting amongst the refugees had perhaps not been such a wasted gift. She knew far more now about the customs of others. Knew that Miqo’te were tight-knit, preferring to live in family communities. That they shared part of their name with the rest of their family. If her parents were in Ul’dah, it would stand to reason this girl would be as well. She only needed to find the community that shared her name.