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From his room in Limsa, the miqo'te could see far. He could see the people moving below, the ocean stretching to the horizon, and the setting sun setting towards the west; its golden rays dancing upon the rolling sea of blue. It was a vision of beauty that could take the breath away.
Jin'li wasn't looking at it.Â
He was standing before a table, his shoulders hunched as he placed his palms on the surface. Before him were stretched and scattered papers and charts from all over Eorzea. Letters, reports, articles, all things that told a tale.Â
A tale of anarchy.
His freed slaves where multiplying on their own now. The men and women the miqo'te had freed were disrupting everything from trade to the safety of the roads themselves. Some slaves had become bandits. Others, freedom fighters, and yet others had gone home. But chaos was seeping across the lands, violently. It was still small, but it was growing, like the build of an orchestra into a tremendous crescendo.
And through the wold, Jin'li conducted the madness. All for a sinister plan.
Anarchy was just the first step. The true plan had not been forgotten. His special weapons, forged by his own methods, had been spread and spread and spread. And more and more had they killed, and the souls of those slain by them, became part of Jin'li's final plan. One so near completion he could taste it.
His tongue slid over his lips.
The only thing that satisfied the miqo'te was souls. Because souls is what he needed for his plan so long in the making. Soon he would have all he needed. And with the final life claimed, his spell would complete, and the fabric that divided the words from the void would fall. And the freedom of madness would consume the world inch by inch, life by life. Until chaos was the norm and the chains of slavery, the binding obstructions of laws and morality, were gone. Soon, everyone would be equal. Soon madness would run free. And all would survive because they did so on their own. Freedom was not easy. But it was freedom. And better to die a free man, than live as a dog.
The white raven fluttered its wings as it looked at Jin'li. And Jin'li looked back at it as he smiled.
He could hear music in his head and he turned towards the window and he began waving his arms, increase the tempo of the orchestra in his mind as his eyes shimmered and a broken smile wormed its way over his lips as he stepped to the window and repeated his mantra in a smug cackle. The cackle of a man who thinks he has won. And after all, had he not? What could stop him now?
From his room in Limsa, the miqo'te could see far. He could see the people moving below, the ocean stretching to the horizon, and the setting sun setting towards the west; its golden rays dancing upon the rolling sea of blue. It was a vision of beauty that could take the breath away.
Jin'li wasn't looking at it.Â
He was standing before a table, his shoulders hunched as he placed his palms on the surface. Before him were stretched and scattered papers and charts from all over Eorzea. Letters, reports, articles, all things that told a tale.Â
A tale of anarchy.
His freed slaves where multiplying on their own now. The men and women the miqo'te had freed were disrupting everything from trade to the safety of the roads themselves. Some slaves had become bandits. Others, freedom fighters, and yet others had gone home. But chaos was seeping across the lands, violently. It was still small, but it was growing, like the build of an orchestra into a tremendous crescendo.
And through the wold, Jin'li conducted the madness. All for a sinister plan.
Anarchy was just the first step. The true plan had not been forgotten. His special weapons, forged by his own methods, had been spread and spread and spread. And more and more had they killed, and the souls of those slain by them, became part of Jin'li's final plan. One so near completion he could taste it.
His tongue slid over his lips.
The only thing that satisfied the miqo'te was souls. Because souls is what he needed for his plan so long in the making. Soon he would have all he needed. And with the final life claimed, his spell would complete, and the fabric that divided the words from the void would fall. And the freedom of madness would consume the world inch by inch, life by life. Until chaos was the norm and the chains of slavery, the binding obstructions of laws and morality, were gone. Soon, everyone would be equal. Soon madness would run free. And all would survive because they did so on their own. Freedom was not easy. But it was freedom. And better to die a free man, than live as a dog.
The white raven fluttered its wings as it looked at Jin'li. And Jin'li looked back at it as he smiled.
He could hear music in his head and he turned towards the window and he began waving his arms, increase the tempo of the orchestra in his mind as his eyes shimmered and a broken smile wormed its way over his lips as he stepped to the window and repeated his mantra in a smug cackle. The cackle of a man who thinks he has won. And after all, had he not? What could stop him now?
"No wealth, no land, no silver, no gold,
Nothing satisfies me but your soul"
