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Often, people say that the wind rushing through your hair is one of the most freeing sensations. Whether you sail the seas or the skies; the wind brushing through each strand, loosing and tangling them together wildly is a commonly used reference to express one’s freedom in that moment in time. The expression of joy and relaxing abandonment is known and practiced far and wide by all manner of creature.
It is nothing, if not a nightmare for me now though. It tickles, itching my senses with a series of times in my life where the wind seemed to be my only companion through my pains. Should a day come where the wind wishes to grace me with accompanying joys, I would hesitantly welcome it. If only to be rid of each disruptive nightmare that visits me each and every night since my fall.
My literal plummet from sky to ground.
That was how I ended up, obviously having survived it. Strong still I would argue, but wounded before I took a long sleep. I fear to speak the words to my fellow man, how I’ve come upon them all. I know that I was once one of many Eorzians, but in a time I can vaguely recall now. I only knew my own tribe.
I was barely old enough to remember, just the massive armored soldiers that asserted themselves over our home and governed our way of life. I remember, it was a windy day, when normally it is so calm.
Being as young as I was, I felt they all were horrible people. Evil beings that had come to destroy my family’s way of life. Looking back on it now… they did. Though it was a childish mentality at it’s finest.
No, in time I came to accept this society that governed themselves over us. Having found a few mentors through my life that guided me as I grew, showing me that they were not the monsters I once thought them to be as a foolish child. Change was inevitable and when I began to understand and came of age I willingly gave myself to them and their forces.
The Garleans accepted me in turn with open arms. More bodies of course meant they could prove greater strength, so of course my presence was well received in the beginning. However it didn't take long to see the difference many felt in regards to themselves and those they absorbed into their society. Us… and the Pure bloods. There was never any comparison, never any real equality with people like that… never any truth to your face. Where it not for my mother and those few Garlean mentors, I would have spoken out of turn, as a fiery youth… would have found myself where I am now much sooner.
Despite all of this, I don’t hate the Garleans. I don’t blame them, never have. Despite the seemingly aggressive things they've done to govern my life, I have never gone hungry, never had to look far for purpose or labor, those of my family that had survived the battles past were taken care of. I was able to remain with what was left of my family, even as it grew smaller and once I grew older I could see that the life of the land vastly improved in locations where it had struggled for years. If anything, I have come to understand the need governing can attribute to a peaceful life where often stress and chaos leads to nothing but conflict. Despite those few that felt entitled over me and those absorbed like us, I was on equal footing, living as a citizen. I made friends, allies. I trained and earned brothers and sisters of the Empire. I began to feel more at home than ever before, filled with far more purpose than ever. Why wouldn't anyone else wish this sort of fulfillment and peace? I knew that to assert peace, you often had to fight ironically enough. The price was never so cheap.
Things might have been very different for me had I not made a pure blooded friend. My closest and beloved brother. There for me for the good and bad, we had one another's back since we were small. They were what made me think twice about a pure bloods elitism so soon in my life. I had never known the resentment and envy that he withheld through the years. The bitterness that only grew stronger the more his own family had come to 'adopt' me, my progression with my training and the attention I received from our commanders. A petty jealousy that intensified the more confident and skilled I must have appeared to become.
The wind was with me again in those final moments as a my 'brother' took that opportunity in the skies as we drifted over barren snow filled territories to take me off guard and push me over the edge. My vision was nearly gone before I felt the metallic paneling of the airship beneath my feet vanish and my form was enveloped in a rushing icy blanket of air that stabbed into my flesh and ran it’s jagged fingers through my hair. All I remembered was white, so much white as I fell, then only black.
I remember in those moments, what I felt to be my last moments. A split moment of peace, not another shred of wind to be felt. Even if my brother mistreated me, abused me... I felt he had allowed fear to rule him in those moments. The terror in this round about way to be rid of me palpable, wishing to be rid of me in hopes he may find his own peace. No… even if I am no pure blood, even as I fell into the icy cold Coerthias lands a framed deserter. Even if I could no longer see my mother, my only blood relative left, I believed.
I may very well always believe.
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