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SpoilerThis is the third and final arc of John's post-time jump adventures, the other two being:
1. Hells of a Day
2. A Game of Lost and JJ
Hells of a Day is the first set of stories centered in Gridania and the Shroud, A Game of Lost and JJ is the Ul'Dah/Thanalan arc and the one posted here takes place in La Noscea/Limsa Lominsa with the end coexisting with John's "grand" entrance to future friends. Also, much like the previous story, the titles of the chapters are all song titles. This time I went with Tom waits titles. Even used lyrics in the last story, translated to Norwegian. Took a stab at what Highlander tongue is close to. Not trying to make it definite. Don't hate me.
1. Hells of a Day
2. A Game of Lost and JJ
Hells of a Day is the first set of stories centered in Gridania and the Shroud, A Game of Lost and JJ is the Ul'Dah/Thanalan arc and the one posted here takes place in La Noscea/Limsa Lominsa with the end coexisting with John's "grand" entrance to future friends. Also, much like the previous story, the titles of the chapters are all song titles. This time I went with Tom waits titles. Even used lyrics in the last story, translated to Norwegian. Took a stab at what Highlander tongue is close to. Not trying to make it definite. Don't hate me.
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Chapter 1: Little Man
A deep dark spinning pit twirls in the background and foreground. Distance is unknown, space is nil. The screams of many fill the stagnant air as if they were cigar smoke in a smokeless room. The laughing of children backdrop a scene of carnage and destruction. A sound of a Magitek arm moving, the screams of a woman, then a snap.
John snorts awake, laying in a field of flowers in the fields of La Noscea sporting a new breastplate. In the days since his departure of the passenger ship and the company of its captain, John met Isilime and Nel Turuphant, the owners of Celestial Forge, a small custom armor and weapon shop by the ferry port. Whether it was his unique choice of weaponry or a sympathetic Miqo'te, John obtained the breastplate free of charge with the obligation of being a walking advertisement, the crest of the Celestial Forge lay like a badge on the chest. John deduced that Isilime was his old friend Hirilonde's daughter, having married and eventually had a child with a Mahari. John let that sleeping dog lie. She had a family of her own and just didn't seem to have has much fire as her father did. How would a man she never met just bring up her father? John let that be.
While waiting for his armor and asking around about his daughter, John went fishing. He had no gil but he was in Limsa. Who wouldn't take fish as currency? Bartenders, that's who. After fishing, John wished for some bread and beer to go with his fish. So we went to a not-too-friendly bar, hoping for dinner and a show in the form of a bar fight. He had caught a hefty catch of fish yet the bartender begrudgingly accepted fish for some grog and day old bread. His greatsword set laying against the bar beside him, he dug in to dinner. A young Miqo'te boy slid by JJ, having eyed the greatsword as a great catch. The young boy inquired about how strong JJ was and for adventure stories. Despite having only one eye, John wasn't blind to the Miqo'te's glances at his greatsword.
With a horrible distraction, the Miqo'te hefts the greatsword over his shoulder and with a great lack of speed, barely makes it to the door before John gives chase. Frightened, the boy calls for help claiming a thief was trying to steal his sword -- John retorted "Yer in a pirate bar, kid, you think the Yellow Jackets are goin' ta come here anytime soon?" The boy drops the greatsword and takes off. John holds his bread in his mouth as he gives chase, surprising the Miqo'te with his speed despite carrying such a heavy weapon. After chasing the boy halfway across the Upper Deck, the boy ran himself to a ledge with nowhere to go. John then proceeds to give the young boy a stern lecture at how to not steal... so poorly.
"Don't be such a stupid dumbass, kid. Yer lucky you tried to steal from me and caughtcha. If it was one of 'em fellers at the bar, they'd surely be havin' Miqo'te paws fer dinner tonight."
"Y-y-yeah right! If my brother was here-"
"He'd be the one lecturing yer ass after I kicked his ass. I ain't gonna hurtcha kid, not get off that ledge...."
John moves closer to the boy, extending a hand, shuffling slowly. The miqo'te boy slowly edges closer to the ledge, weighing the options of falling five stories to possibly getting his hands cut off. He inches from the ledge and extends one hand out while reaching for his knife with the other, charging at John. John promptly grab the knife hand as the boy charged and flipped him, slamming him on the ground on his stomach. With a sigh, John holds the boy's arm behind him in an uncomfortable position and has his thumb and index finger on a pressure point on the boy's wrist.
"Now look whatcha done ya dumbass. I'm trying to help ya, little man!"
The boy struggles. "L-lemme go! If-if my broth- OWWWWWWWW"
"The more ya struggle tha more it hurts." John pinches the pressure point, the boy howls. "One: Always have more escape routes than ya do brains." John pinches the pressure point again, the boy howls. "Two: Never take something ya can't carry and run with." John pinches the pressure point yet again, the boy reels in pain. "Three: ALWAYS HAVE MORE ESCAPE ROUTES THAN YA DO BRAINS." John twists the arm in an uncomfortable, yet harmless, way. The boy is now crying begging to be let go.
"I'm gonna letcha go, try and stab me again and I will cut yer tail off." John picks the Miqo'te by the back of his pants and tosses him a few fulms away. "Now don't go get yerself killed, lad." The Miqo'te quickly crawls a distance away before getting on his feet. "I-I-I'll not forget this! *snort* You bald monster!" The Miqo'te boy then makes his escape. John falls to his butt laughing. "Go on, git before I get hungry." The Miqo'te boy retreats.
---
After sitting and thinking of the past few days, John gets up and dusts himself off before heading off.
A deep dark spinning pit twirls in the background and foreground. Distance is unknown, space is nil. The screams of many fill the stagnant air as if they were cigar smoke in a smokeless room. The laughing of children backdrop a scene of carnage and destruction. A sound of a Magitek arm moving, the screams of a woman, then a snap.
John snorts awake, laying in a field of flowers in the fields of La Noscea sporting a new breastplate. In the days since his departure of the passenger ship and the company of its captain, John met Isilime and Nel Turuphant, the owners of Celestial Forge, a small custom armor and weapon shop by the ferry port. Whether it was his unique choice of weaponry or a sympathetic Miqo'te, John obtained the breastplate free of charge with the obligation of being a walking advertisement, the crest of the Celestial Forge lay like a badge on the chest. John deduced that Isilime was his old friend Hirilonde's daughter, having married and eventually had a child with a Mahari. John let that sleeping dog lie. She had a family of her own and just didn't seem to have has much fire as her father did. How would a man she never met just bring up her father? John let that be.
While waiting for his armor and asking around about his daughter, John went fishing. He had no gil but he was in Limsa. Who wouldn't take fish as currency? Bartenders, that's who. After fishing, John wished for some bread and beer to go with his fish. So we went to a not-too-friendly bar, hoping for dinner and a show in the form of a bar fight. He had caught a hefty catch of fish yet the bartender begrudgingly accepted fish for some grog and day old bread. His greatsword set laying against the bar beside him, he dug in to dinner. A young Miqo'te boy slid by JJ, having eyed the greatsword as a great catch. The young boy inquired about how strong JJ was and for adventure stories. Despite having only one eye, John wasn't blind to the Miqo'te's glances at his greatsword.
With a horrible distraction, the Miqo'te hefts the greatsword over his shoulder and with a great lack of speed, barely makes it to the door before John gives chase. Frightened, the boy calls for help claiming a thief was trying to steal his sword -- John retorted "Yer in a pirate bar, kid, you think the Yellow Jackets are goin' ta come here anytime soon?" The boy drops the greatsword and takes off. John holds his bread in his mouth as he gives chase, surprising the Miqo'te with his speed despite carrying such a heavy weapon. After chasing the boy halfway across the Upper Deck, the boy ran himself to a ledge with nowhere to go. John then proceeds to give the young boy a stern lecture at how to not steal... so poorly.
"Don't be such a stupid dumbass, kid. Yer lucky you tried to steal from me and caughtcha. If it was one of 'em fellers at the bar, they'd surely be havin' Miqo'te paws fer dinner tonight."
"Y-y-yeah right! If my brother was here-"
"He'd be the one lecturing yer ass after I kicked his ass. I ain't gonna hurtcha kid, not get off that ledge...."
John moves closer to the boy, extending a hand, shuffling slowly. The miqo'te boy slowly edges closer to the ledge, weighing the options of falling five stories to possibly getting his hands cut off. He inches from the ledge and extends one hand out while reaching for his knife with the other, charging at John. John promptly grab the knife hand as the boy charged and flipped him, slamming him on the ground on his stomach. With a sigh, John holds the boy's arm behind him in an uncomfortable position and has his thumb and index finger on a pressure point on the boy's wrist.
"Now look whatcha done ya dumbass. I'm trying to help ya, little man!"
The boy struggles. "L-lemme go! If-if my broth- OWWWWWWWW"
"The more ya struggle tha more it hurts." John pinches the pressure point, the boy howls. "One: Always have more escape routes than ya do brains." John pinches the pressure point again, the boy howls. "Two: Never take something ya can't carry and run with." John pinches the pressure point yet again, the boy reels in pain. "Three: ALWAYS HAVE MORE ESCAPE ROUTES THAN YA DO BRAINS." John twists the arm in an uncomfortable, yet harmless, way. The boy is now crying begging to be let go.
"I'm gonna letcha go, try and stab me again and I will cut yer tail off." John picks the Miqo'te by the back of his pants and tosses him a few fulms away. "Now don't go get yerself killed, lad." The Miqo'te quickly crawls a distance away before getting on his feet. "I-I-I'll not forget this! *snort* You bald monster!" The Miqo'te boy then makes his escape. John falls to his butt laughing. "Go on, git before I get hungry." The Miqo'te boy retreats.
---
After sitting and thinking of the past few days, John gets up and dusts himself off before heading off.
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Chapter 2: Eyeball Kid
After scouring Limsa Lominsa for a few days, John took to the outer colonies in search of information concerning his daughter, Grace. His first stop in this leg of his story was to Red Rooster Stead, a farm in Lower La Noscea surrounded with fields upon fields of various crops. At Red Rooster Stead, a farmers market and show was going on. It was quite the bustling scene. The hills on either side were lined with pumpkins, squashes and various other seasonal crop. John approached the stead from the west, following behind a chocobo-pulled wagon filled with crops. Suddenly, a bee buzzes by the chocobo and startles it, causing the wagon to buckle and two large pumpkins to pop out.
John manages to catch one pumpkin, but the other orange renegade had other plan. It takes John out at the legs causing John to drop the other pumpkin and fall tumbling down the hill.
Spoosh spoosh, THUD! Plop!
He quickly recovers, having rolled back to the bottom of the hill. "I'm alright! I'm alright!" John, a bit dizzy, falls on his butt. A chunk of pumpkin on his head as a result of the pumpkin-splosion.
"It's the Eyeball Kid!" A Huyr girl exclaims, a horde of children quickly surround JJ.
John blinks a few times. It's been awhile since he wore a pumpkin on his head. Like more than a few weeks. He hops to his feed and strikes a hero pose. "Don'tcha mean the One-Eye'd Samurai? Defender of Justice, Prote-"
"Dawww, it's just an old guy. Come on guys, let's go." Another child spoke up, the children disperse as fast as they came.
After a long moment (cue wind and tumbleweed!), John staggers before regaining his composure. The wagoner worked his way back down the hill to check on John. "Uhh, are you okay? I'm real sorry about that my bird got startled..."
John chuckles and removes the pumpkin chunk from his head. "Don't worry yerself, I'm fine. It'd take more than a couple angry pumpkin's ta take me down!"
The wagoner, relieved, gives a chuckle in return. "Let me at least offer you some food and something to clean that shiny armor of yours."
~A short time later, in a house in Red Rooster Stead~
John is devouring a stew the man's wife has been making. "This is real good, ma'am!"
With a chuckle, the man claims "Perhaps I should have thrown a bucket of water on ya and charged ya for the pumpkins at this rate!" The huyr woman gives a small laugh.
"Sure eats like he's a growing boy, ain't much of a boy though. Them adventurers sure are... different." The woman comments.
After taking a long drink of water, John wipes his stupid-grin-having-mug.
"So 'em little'uns were sayin' somethin' about an Eyeball Kid.. what's tha story there?"
The wagoner sits down and takes a sip of coffee. "Honey, I bet you know more than me, why don't you inform our friend?"
The woman clears "About two months ago, a Highlander woman, scraped up and her arm in a sling made of her own clothing, was found wondering the fields. Our neighbor found her and she promptly collapsed. We had assumed she was kidnapped by the Kobold or pirates since she looked like... *ahem* she was unharmed past her scrapes and bruises. She had reset her shoulder that had dislocated, it seems. She awoke in the spare bedroom a few days later. We didn't think she was some ordinary woman in that she was rather built for her figure and her hands were calloused over... she had to have been a pugilist or something we figured. Malnourished and dehydrated, she didn't speak those first couple days rather.. she just stared out the window from the bed.. she did speak in her sleep, though.. about 'Dalmund', 'Mor Dhona' and 'Ala Mhigo' and 'it happened all over again'.."
The woman sighs and crosses her arms. "...eventually she spoke, insisting on repaying our hospitality. We didn't ask for her to do anything, but she... she's stubborn. With her arm still in a sling, she would fetch water, sweep or what have you without a single complaint. At times, we think chores were therapeutic for her -- she seemed to have been through a lot. Eventually, the local children returned from a school trip to learn about and how a ship works. You would think such joy as children laughing would brighten anyone's spirits yet... the woman broke down. She kept herself in her room for a few days... she never did tell us what. She just threw a blue blanket over the window and sat in the dark." The woman wipes a tear from her eye.
"That's enough, dear, I'll tell the rest.." The wagoner begins. "A couple days after that happened, some ruffians came through and began giving one of our neighbors, a sheep herder, a hard time. Claimed his sheep got loose and rampaged their encampment. Began pushing the old guy around. Some of the kids, brave as they were, stood up against the full grown Seawolf men. Those bastards didn't care who they hit. By the time we heard the commotion up on the hill, we weren't going to get them out of that mess unscathed... just then, like a rocket going off, a blue blur descended from the second story and took off down the hill. It stopped right in front of them, the blue was of a blanket we own and it flew off into the face of one of the brutes. It was the woman. While her one arm was in a sling, that didn't stop her from using her other three limbs. You'd think she was possessed by the Gods themselves at the arse-wooping the handed out to four grown Seawolves. She lobbed a pumpkin at one, wrapped her legs around another one's neck and flipped him and delivered a some sort of attack that blew the other two back at least twenty fulms.. the children, rather frightened at this point, just stood there shocked, terrified... what have you."
John, who remained silent up until this point, though clearly was listening to every word, spoke up. "...and what of this 'Eyeball Kid' moniker?"
"I'm gettin' to that... after the dust settled of what was a ten-second ass-woopin' for four... silence. Dead silence. The kind of silence you hear when you're in a cave. It seemed like birds weren't cherping, insects weren't moving.. the woman looked at the men she had downed, then at the terrified children. Almost instinctively, she swooped up the top of the busted pumpkin and the blue blanket, draping it over herself like a battle dress and proclaimed: 'Fear not, honest citizens! For the Eyeball Kid is here! Fighter of baddies, kicker of butts...' she then promptly collapsed. She had exerted herself too much."
"...and where is this woman now?"
"You seem awful interested in h-"
"My daughter. She's my daughter. It has to be her."
"Your da-"
"Yes. She's just shy under six fulms, short blond hair, green-blue eyes, a mole *points on his face* here -- am I wrong?"
"No, you're correct an-"
"Where is she?" John's excitement apparent.
"Well.. she left a couple days after that.. heading to Swiftperch then to Aleport to see about getting passage to the mainland an-"
"How long ago was this?"
"About two or three weeks ago."
John gets up and bows his head "I thank you for your hospitality and taking care of her." John makes haste for the door and then takes off running.
After scouring Limsa Lominsa for a few days, John took to the outer colonies in search of information concerning his daughter, Grace. His first stop in this leg of his story was to Red Rooster Stead, a farm in Lower La Noscea surrounded with fields upon fields of various crops. At Red Rooster Stead, a farmers market and show was going on. It was quite the bustling scene. The hills on either side were lined with pumpkins, squashes and various other seasonal crop. John approached the stead from the west, following behind a chocobo-pulled wagon filled with crops. Suddenly, a bee buzzes by the chocobo and startles it, causing the wagon to buckle and two large pumpkins to pop out.
John manages to catch one pumpkin, but the other orange renegade had other plan. It takes John out at the legs causing John to drop the other pumpkin and fall tumbling down the hill.
Spoosh spoosh, THUD! Plop!
He quickly recovers, having rolled back to the bottom of the hill. "I'm alright! I'm alright!" John, a bit dizzy, falls on his butt. A chunk of pumpkin on his head as a result of the pumpkin-splosion.
"It's the Eyeball Kid!" A Huyr girl exclaims, a horde of children quickly surround JJ.
John blinks a few times. It's been awhile since he wore a pumpkin on his head. Like more than a few weeks. He hops to his feed and strikes a hero pose. "Don'tcha mean the One-Eye'd Samurai? Defender of Justice, Prote-"
"Dawww, it's just an old guy. Come on guys, let's go." Another child spoke up, the children disperse as fast as they came.
After a long moment (cue wind and tumbleweed!), John staggers before regaining his composure. The wagoner worked his way back down the hill to check on John. "Uhh, are you okay? I'm real sorry about that my bird got startled..."
John chuckles and removes the pumpkin chunk from his head. "Don't worry yerself, I'm fine. It'd take more than a couple angry pumpkin's ta take me down!"
The wagoner, relieved, gives a chuckle in return. "Let me at least offer you some food and something to clean that shiny armor of yours."
~A short time later, in a house in Red Rooster Stead~
John is devouring a stew the man's wife has been making. "This is real good, ma'am!"
With a chuckle, the man claims "Perhaps I should have thrown a bucket of water on ya and charged ya for the pumpkins at this rate!" The huyr woman gives a small laugh.
"Sure eats like he's a growing boy, ain't much of a boy though. Them adventurers sure are... different." The woman comments.
After taking a long drink of water, John wipes his stupid-grin-having-mug.
"So 'em little'uns were sayin' somethin' about an Eyeball Kid.. what's tha story there?"
The wagoner sits down and takes a sip of coffee. "Honey, I bet you know more than me, why don't you inform our friend?"
The woman clears "About two months ago, a Highlander woman, scraped up and her arm in a sling made of her own clothing, was found wondering the fields. Our neighbor found her and she promptly collapsed. We had assumed she was kidnapped by the Kobold or pirates since she looked like... *ahem* she was unharmed past her scrapes and bruises. She had reset her shoulder that had dislocated, it seems. She awoke in the spare bedroom a few days later. We didn't think she was some ordinary woman in that she was rather built for her figure and her hands were calloused over... she had to have been a pugilist or something we figured. Malnourished and dehydrated, she didn't speak those first couple days rather.. she just stared out the window from the bed.. she did speak in her sleep, though.. about 'Dalmund', 'Mor Dhona' and 'Ala Mhigo' and 'it happened all over again'.."
The woman sighs and crosses her arms. "...eventually she spoke, insisting on repaying our hospitality. We didn't ask for her to do anything, but she... she's stubborn. With her arm still in a sling, she would fetch water, sweep or what have you without a single complaint. At times, we think chores were therapeutic for her -- she seemed to have been through a lot. Eventually, the local children returned from a school trip to learn about and how a ship works. You would think such joy as children laughing would brighten anyone's spirits yet... the woman broke down. She kept herself in her room for a few days... she never did tell us what. She just threw a blue blanket over the window and sat in the dark." The woman wipes a tear from her eye.
"That's enough, dear, I'll tell the rest.." The wagoner begins. "A couple days after that happened, some ruffians came through and began giving one of our neighbors, a sheep herder, a hard time. Claimed his sheep got loose and rampaged their encampment. Began pushing the old guy around. Some of the kids, brave as they were, stood up against the full grown Seawolf men. Those bastards didn't care who they hit. By the time we heard the commotion up on the hill, we weren't going to get them out of that mess unscathed... just then, like a rocket going off, a blue blur descended from the second story and took off down the hill. It stopped right in front of them, the blue was of a blanket we own and it flew off into the face of one of the brutes. It was the woman. While her one arm was in a sling, that didn't stop her from using her other three limbs. You'd think she was possessed by the Gods themselves at the arse-wooping the handed out to four grown Seawolves. She lobbed a pumpkin at one, wrapped her legs around another one's neck and flipped him and delivered a some sort of attack that blew the other two back at least twenty fulms.. the children, rather frightened at this point, just stood there shocked, terrified... what have you."
John, who remained silent up until this point, though clearly was listening to every word, spoke up. "...and what of this 'Eyeball Kid' moniker?"
"I'm gettin' to that... after the dust settled of what was a ten-second ass-woopin' for four... silence. Dead silence. The kind of silence you hear when you're in a cave. It seemed like birds weren't cherping, insects weren't moving.. the woman looked at the men she had downed, then at the terrified children. Almost instinctively, she swooped up the top of the busted pumpkin and the blue blanket, draping it over herself like a battle dress and proclaimed: 'Fear not, honest citizens! For the Eyeball Kid is here! Fighter of baddies, kicker of butts...' she then promptly collapsed. She had exerted herself too much."
"...and where is this woman now?"
"You seem awful interested in h-"
"My daughter. She's my daughter. It has to be her."
"Your da-"
"Yes. She's just shy under six fulms, short blond hair, green-blue eyes, a mole *points on his face* here -- am I wrong?"
"No, you're correct an-"
"Where is she?" John's excitement apparent.
"Well.. she left a couple days after that.. heading to Swiftperch then to Aleport to see about getting passage to the mainland an-"
"How long ago was this?"
"About two or three weeks ago."
John gets up and bows his head "I thank you for your hospitality and taking care of her." John makes haste for the door and then takes off running.
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Misery is the River of the World
The buildup to the Battle at Carteneau with the crescendo of Bahmut's fury came to fruition in different ways for everyone. This is her story.
~Five years prior in Thanalan, not too long before the Calamity~
Grace, age 33, had let go of the fury in her heart that, much like her fellow highlanders, had fueled her into joining the resistance of Ala Mhigo. For the bulk of fifteen years, she had followed fellow highlanders in the pursuit of liberation of her motherland. The desire for a free Ala Mhigo is still there, but her efforts have been focused on helping refugees of a different sort... orphans of this new war building.
Ul'Dah now, much like fifteen years prior, has been a harbor for Eorzea's otherwise unwanted. After adventuring with her father and brother for a time, she settled around Little Ala Mhigo and continued to hone her craft of punching things into dust. The last surviving monks from the Windfist Sect too made refuge in Little Ala Mhigo for a time, but they then took off on pilgrimages for inner enlightenment. Through the years, she learned new styles, broke new jaws and made some gil acting as a bodyguard. But now, now she has a humble wish of protecting her little family. Children of fallen soldiers, unwanted children, children that ran away -- it doesn't matter. This orphanage Grace stumbled on accepts any and all. She had finally found her new home and purpose.
Grace was quickly latched onto as a mother figure by the children. Her fierce protective nature and fury for it, which she inherited from her own mother, shined like a diamond. She would help cook, do laundry, clean and all other assortments one would attribute to a motherly role. Eventually, she even began to smile and laugh, which was formerly only possible by her father and brother. She had found her inner happiness after fifteen years of it being ripped from her heart.
That is... until it happened.
Grace had been at the orphanage for three months when the stirs in Mor Dhona were occurring and the second moon was drawing ever closer. She had assured the children all would be okay, knowing that the end was near, but just keeping that from them if only for a little while longer. The moon moved closer and closer. Grace would often stand atop a hill and watch it. Just watch it. Linkpearls have died out, she had lost contact with her father and brother, but she was not alone.
"Uhhh, mama Grace is everything okay?" A child approached her.
Grace turns around and offers a forced smile. "Yes my darling, now head on back and shut the door tight. I'll be right behind you."
With a sigh, she turns back around to watch the wretched moon for awhile longer.
That's when pieces began to fall.. descending from the heavens like angry tears of hatred. Her mouth agape, she began taking off to the orphanage. This was it. This was the end of the world.
FWOOOO-BOOOOOOOOOOM!
A large explosion forced Grace to fall and roll back.
A chunk of Dalmund obliterated it. The orphanage was no more. It took a moment to recover, sand and debris blown over her, but when she got up... she found she lost it. She fell to her knees, unable to think. No, unwanting to think. She doesn't remember how she got there, but she found herself on the Flats. Her ears still ringing from before. Fighting. No tears, no facial features, no connection to it. No connection to life. Her instinct fought, her heart was froze. She barely processed dislocating her shoulder.
Then... then Bahamut charged Megaflare.
White.
~~Five years later~~
A different white light, that of sunshine. Soon, birds chirping came into focus. Suddenly all the physical and mental pain swarmed in. The faint smell of the sea. Her previously numb mind body and soul now flushed her with pain.
The buildup to the Battle at Carteneau with the crescendo of Bahmut's fury came to fruition in different ways for everyone. This is her story.
~Five years prior in Thanalan, not too long before the Calamity~
Grace, age 33, had let go of the fury in her heart that, much like her fellow highlanders, had fueled her into joining the resistance of Ala Mhigo. For the bulk of fifteen years, she had followed fellow highlanders in the pursuit of liberation of her motherland. The desire for a free Ala Mhigo is still there, but her efforts have been focused on helping refugees of a different sort... orphans of this new war building.
Ul'Dah now, much like fifteen years prior, has been a harbor for Eorzea's otherwise unwanted. After adventuring with her father and brother for a time, she settled around Little Ala Mhigo and continued to hone her craft of punching things into dust. The last surviving monks from the Windfist Sect too made refuge in Little Ala Mhigo for a time, but they then took off on pilgrimages for inner enlightenment. Through the years, she learned new styles, broke new jaws and made some gil acting as a bodyguard. But now, now she has a humble wish of protecting her little family. Children of fallen soldiers, unwanted children, children that ran away -- it doesn't matter. This orphanage Grace stumbled on accepts any and all. She had finally found her new home and purpose.
Grace was quickly latched onto as a mother figure by the children. Her fierce protective nature and fury for it, which she inherited from her own mother, shined like a diamond. She would help cook, do laundry, clean and all other assortments one would attribute to a motherly role. Eventually, she even began to smile and laugh, which was formerly only possible by her father and brother. She had found her inner happiness after fifteen years of it being ripped from her heart.
That is... until it happened.
Grace had been at the orphanage for three months when the stirs in Mor Dhona were occurring and the second moon was drawing ever closer. She had assured the children all would be okay, knowing that the end was near, but just keeping that from them if only for a little while longer. The moon moved closer and closer. Grace would often stand atop a hill and watch it. Just watch it. Linkpearls have died out, she had lost contact with her father and brother, but she was not alone.
"Uhhh, mama Grace is everything okay?" A child approached her.
Grace turns around and offers a forced smile. "Yes my darling, now head on back and shut the door tight. I'll be right behind you."
With a sigh, she turns back around to watch the wretched moon for awhile longer.
That's when pieces began to fall.. descending from the heavens like angry tears of hatred. Her mouth agape, she began taking off to the orphanage. This was it. This was the end of the world.
FWOOOO-BOOOOOOOOOOM!
A large explosion forced Grace to fall and roll back.
A chunk of Dalmund obliterated it. The orphanage was no more. It took a moment to recover, sand and debris blown over her, but when she got up... she found she lost it. She fell to her knees, unable to think. No, unwanting to think. She doesn't remember how she got there, but she found herself on the Flats. Her ears still ringing from before. Fighting. No tears, no facial features, no connection to it. No connection to life. Her instinct fought, her heart was froze. She barely processed dislocating her shoulder.
Then... then Bahamut charged Megaflare.
White.
~~Five years later~~
A different white light, that of sunshine. Soon, birds chirping came into focus. Suddenly all the physical and mental pain swarmed in. The faint smell of the sea. Her previously numb mind body and soul now flushed her with pain.
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Chapter 4: Black WingsGrace sit under a tree in La Noscea, her knees pulled to her chest and her head burried in them, rain pouring and a cloak provided by her saviors draped over her. Three weeks prior, she attempted to get passage to the mainland, to return home. She had maybe one tenth the asking price. She accepted that. Since then, she has been doing odd-jobs for the locals. Always quiet.
~As she drifts off into a nightmare~
"You got us killed~" the giggling of children fill the steamy darkness as they come into vision playing Rig around the Rosy. "Why'd you kill us?" Giggle. "Didn't you love is?" Giggle giggle. Grace tries to speak, but her words are silent. The second Moon hangs mere feet above her head. Her screams finally fall out as she falls to her hands and knees. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
SHINK! SLAM!
The giggling of children stops. Dalmund vanishes. After a moment, Grace raises her head. A tall figure clad in dark armor with dark wings of aether flowing like smoke from the back of this figure, the scythe in his hand drips with bright blue blood. "D-Dad!" The dream John approaches her, sheathing his scythe and then embraces Grace.
Grace snorts awake, tears streaming down her face as the rain dies and a tall figure carrying her. A cowl over his head, but was clearly John. "Yer a hard lass ta track, honey!" John offers a stupid smile. "Da..." Grace blinks a few times before fainting. "Jus' rest yer head. Ain't nothin' gonna keep all of us apart. No Empire, no moon, no elder primal. We're headin' ta Gridania, yer brother's fine. Tha two of us were gone fer five years -- a lot of folks were. Whatever happened at that battle sent us here..." John glances down at the clearly out-cold Grace. "Ah, we'll worry about that sometime later."
The greatsword on his back has a single bright blue mark drip off as the rain cleanses it as he continues walking.
~As she drifts off into a nightmare~
"You got us killed~" the giggling of children fill the steamy darkness as they come into vision playing Rig around the Rosy. "Why'd you kill us?" Giggle. "Didn't you love is?" Giggle giggle. Grace tries to speak, but her words are silent. The second Moon hangs mere feet above her head. Her screams finally fall out as she falls to her hands and knees. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
SHINK! SLAM!
The giggling of children stops. Dalmund vanishes. After a moment, Grace raises her head. A tall figure clad in dark armor with dark wings of aether flowing like smoke from the back of this figure, the scythe in his hand drips with bright blue blood. "D-Dad!" The dream John approaches her, sheathing his scythe and then embraces Grace.
Grace snorts awake, tears streaming down her face as the rain dies and a tall figure carrying her. A cowl over his head, but was clearly John. "Yer a hard lass ta track, honey!" John offers a stupid smile. "Da..." Grace blinks a few times before fainting. "Jus' rest yer head. Ain't nothin' gonna keep all of us apart. No Empire, no moon, no elder primal. We're headin' ta Gridania, yer brother's fine. Tha two of us were gone fer five years -- a lot of folks were. Whatever happened at that battle sent us here..." John glances down at the clearly out-cold Grace. "Ah, we'll worry about that sometime later."
The greatsword on his back has a single bright blue mark drip off as the rain cleanses it as he continues walking.
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Chapter 5: Tell Me
Grace wakes up by a crackling fire and the familiar sound of metal sharpening and the smell of cooked meat. Her eyes focus on a figure sitting on a rock across the fire, as her vision sharpens it's her father, sharpening his greatsword. John looks over and offers a smile. "You're awake. Yer clothes were soaked to the bone, ain't gonna letcha catch yer death now." John points over her shoulder where her clothes are drying. "Now eat. I know yer as confused as I was. But eat. Doesn't look like ya had a bite in days."
Without saying a word, Grace sits up and adjusts the blanket over her, scooting to the fire and pulling a snake-on-a-stick from the fire. Her mind swirling with thoughts.
"Now uhh, I'm gonna try'n explain this the best I understand." John sticks his darksteel greatsword down in the dirt. "You mighta heard Carteneau was five years ago. This is true. By some begotten magic, those who were on the Flats that day were kept in suspension er sent forward in time 'till recently. Tha Twelve couldn't keep that beast down, so tha Mother Crystal saw fit ta save us er somethin'. Asa result of tha magic, our faces and names were wiped from those that knew us --" Grace looks up at her father. "Aye, it is also true, lass. I didn't see yer brother when I found his house, but I imagine he fergot things about us.. we're gonna head ta Gridania as soon as we can. I doubt yer refuge is still under yer possession and-" Grace drops her food and buries her face in her hands and begins sobbing.
"H-honey?" John gets up and walks around the fire, taking a seat by Grace and puts an arm around her. "What happened?" Grace continues sobbing, in between her cries she utters "It's my fault they're dead.. the children. *snort* The orphanage.." John offers some words "There wasn't anything you could do.. tha world was supposed to end-" Her cries only get louder. With a sigh, unable to console her, John just puts a hand on her head and lets her cry it out.
John quietly sings a song in his old tongue with a soft low gentle voice. A few tears going down his eye himself.
~Hvorfor plante et frø dypt i bakken
hvorfor sette en stein på en grav i byen
fortell meg, fortell meg, fortell meg
fortelle meg hvorfor det er så
fortell meg, fortell meg, fortell meg
fortell meg så jeg vet...~
---
~The Next Morning~
Grace awakens by a crackling fire. John squats near her and places a waterskin, fruit and more meat on a stick in her face. "Eat, I ain't carryin' yer big butt outta here. Yer an adult, yer gonna walk. If ya can shatter a boulder with yer knee, ya don't need ta be babied." John's attempt at being a stern parent produces a forced weak smile from Grace, appreciative at his attempt to normalize things. She begins to eat breakfast. Normal. That's a thing the Spiegel children haven't known in a couple decades. Normal as being a Spiegel can be. "...so... what now? What do we.... do...?" Grace asks.
"Crystalline's still a thing. I told ya two to seek it out if anything were to happen. So that'sa start. Dyterium's sprout, now holds it. Hope she figured what she'd like ta do with it rather than tryin' ta appease her daddy. It might be a long shot, but perhaps some generous soul can getcha passage ta the mainland. The Aethernet went outta wack. Otherwise we'll need ta getcha a bit more gil." John holds up a blue pearl. "I told yer brother ta seek her out in a letter I left 'im." John twirls the pearl over his knuckles before placing it in his ear.
John clears his throat and speaks into the pearl. " 'ehy! Did I break this thing? Er it still workin'?"
-THE END-
Grace wakes up by a crackling fire and the familiar sound of metal sharpening and the smell of cooked meat. Her eyes focus on a figure sitting on a rock across the fire, as her vision sharpens it's her father, sharpening his greatsword. John looks over and offers a smile. "You're awake. Yer clothes were soaked to the bone, ain't gonna letcha catch yer death now." John points over her shoulder where her clothes are drying. "Now eat. I know yer as confused as I was. But eat. Doesn't look like ya had a bite in days."
Without saying a word, Grace sits up and adjusts the blanket over her, scooting to the fire and pulling a snake-on-a-stick from the fire. Her mind swirling with thoughts.
"Now uhh, I'm gonna try'n explain this the best I understand." John sticks his darksteel greatsword down in the dirt. "You mighta heard Carteneau was five years ago. This is true. By some begotten magic, those who were on the Flats that day were kept in suspension er sent forward in time 'till recently. Tha Twelve couldn't keep that beast down, so tha Mother Crystal saw fit ta save us er somethin'. Asa result of tha magic, our faces and names were wiped from those that knew us --" Grace looks up at her father. "Aye, it is also true, lass. I didn't see yer brother when I found his house, but I imagine he fergot things about us.. we're gonna head ta Gridania as soon as we can. I doubt yer refuge is still under yer possession and-" Grace drops her food and buries her face in her hands and begins sobbing.
"H-honey?" John gets up and walks around the fire, taking a seat by Grace and puts an arm around her. "What happened?" Grace continues sobbing, in between her cries she utters "It's my fault they're dead.. the children. *snort* The orphanage.." John offers some words "There wasn't anything you could do.. tha world was supposed to end-" Her cries only get louder. With a sigh, unable to console her, John just puts a hand on her head and lets her cry it out.
John quietly sings a song in his old tongue with a soft low gentle voice. A few tears going down his eye himself.
~Hvorfor plante et frø dypt i bakken
hvorfor sette en stein på en grav i byen
fortell meg, fortell meg, fortell meg
fortelle meg hvorfor det er så
fortell meg, fortell meg, fortell meg
fortell meg så jeg vet...~
---
~The Next Morning~
Grace awakens by a crackling fire. John squats near her and places a waterskin, fruit and more meat on a stick in her face. "Eat, I ain't carryin' yer big butt outta here. Yer an adult, yer gonna walk. If ya can shatter a boulder with yer knee, ya don't need ta be babied." John's attempt at being a stern parent produces a forced weak smile from Grace, appreciative at his attempt to normalize things. She begins to eat breakfast. Normal. That's a thing the Spiegel children haven't known in a couple decades. Normal as being a Spiegel can be. "...so... what now? What do we.... do...?" Grace asks.
"Crystalline's still a thing. I told ya two to seek it out if anything were to happen. So that'sa start. Dyterium's sprout, now holds it. Hope she figured what she'd like ta do with it rather than tryin' ta appease her daddy. It might be a long shot, but perhaps some generous soul can getcha passage ta the mainland. The Aethernet went outta wack. Otherwise we'll need ta getcha a bit more gil." John holds up a blue pearl. "I told yer brother ta seek her out in a letter I left 'im." John twirls the pearl over his knuckles before placing it in his ear.
John clears his throat and speaks into the pearl. " 'ehy! Did I break this thing? Er it still workin'?"
-THE END-
And yes, the title is a play on "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?"
