[Prompt] Tales from the Calamity

[Merri]

So, as the sixth anniversary of the Calamity draws near, I thought this might be a fun little exercise for people to participate in. We did something similar near the launch of ARR, but given the influx of new and old players alike, I feel as though bringing it back would be a lot of fun. Everyone in Eorzea at the time would have experience it in some way, shape or form. It's in most of our characters backgrounds, but have you fleshed out exactly what occurred that night?

 

Reading the recent Tales from the Calamity entry over in the anniversary site certainly sparked me to re-chronicle Endemerrin's experiences, and I'd love to read what everyone else has to say!

 

What did your character experience on that fateful day?

 

If your post winds up being rather lengthy, please throw it in a spoiler, as to cut down on page clutter!

 

 

 

[align=center]Endemerrin's tale[/align]

 

 

[align=center]

Twenty four hours ago.[/align]

 

"So you mean to go, then?" The Dunesfolk canted his head carefully to the side as his inquisitive gaze thoroughly examined the Miqo'te standing before him. There was no hesitation in his response, nor in his body language. The question itself was almost redundant. For all the years they had spent together, he knew what the answer would be. He had done his best to be the father figure the boy needed, but it was a role that was no longer necessary. He had grown into a far greater man than he could ever had hoped to be. It was clear what he needed. A friend. One who would stand by him until the very end. Rorolumu had been ready for this moment his entire life.

 

"In all the years we've spent in Eorzea," The Miqo'te began. "never have I had an answer so clearly painted in my mind." He drew in a deep breath as his brow furrowed. His expression held firm, if only for the most fleeting of moments. His eyes softened, and a smile gently crept across his features. "I've met so many amazing people. I've found friendships that would last a lifetime. I had dreamed that we would never face such times. That the future would be bright, and we would meet each waking sun with the same optimism that we've had for years. Yet, here we stand, at the end of days." His eyes drifted shut. "I felt it deep inside me the moment we set foot in this realm." Endemerrin opened his eyes and fixed his gaze upon Rorolumu. "This land, it's people," He murmured. "I knew I would sacrifice everything for them."

 

The two stared at each other in contemplative silence for a few moments, before Endemerrin finally broke the air once again. "And I mean to do just that."

 

[align=center]

Thirteen hours ago.[/align]

 

"You take good care of yourself, alright, buddy?" A resounding kweh and the playful nudge of his companion's beak echoed laughter from the Miqo'te. "I'll be back soon. Don't give Faustina any trouble while I'm gone, you got that?" He reached a hand up to smooth down the plumage on Geldwyn's neck, prompting the bird to coo with content. "I'll catch you later." He gave the rouncey's beak a final pat before spinning on his heel. His eyes caught a young Sunseeker who was perched upon the outer fence of the stables. Taking in a deep breath, he slowly sauntered over in her direction, smiling almost sheepishly. He already knew she wasn't likely to be pleased with his choice. Most of his friends weren't. Yet, it was one he had to make. Not only for their sake, but for something far greater than all of them. Some had taken it in stride, others were more visibly upset. In the end, though, he felt that they all understood. All that was left was one.

 

"Hey--" He began, only to be cut off with a rather abrupt hug.

 

"Come home safe. We'll be waiting."

 

It was all that really needed to be said. He had mulled over in his head how he would explain to everyone he was leaving, but in the end it really didn't matter. They were his friends. They didn't care about how, or why. They cared about him. Endemerrin exhaled as he wrapped his arms around her. "Hey, you know me better than that." He chuckled lightly. "I'm far too stubborn to die." He pulled away, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I'd tell you to take good care of him, but gods know you wouldn't do anything but. I'll catch up with you when I get back, alright?" He reached a hand up to ruffle her hair slightly before making his way out the front gates of the stables. Everything was in order. It was time to leave. "Keep the wind at your back!" He called out, casting a stray glance over his shoulder before offering up a brief and final wave.

 

[align=center]........[/align]

 

Endemerrin gasped for air as his vision came to once again. The air burned his lungs with each breath, and blood stung his eyes as it trickled down from his forehead. Slowly but surely, the haze left his sight, and the sounds of chaos slowly filled his ears as the ringing in them finally subsided. He desperately struggled to his feet, grasping his axe from the rubble as a legionary made his charge. There was a flash of steel, and the Garlean's body ragdolled through the air as Endemerrin's cleave made contact with his torso. Yet another victim of the mindless bloodshed. He had long since lost track of how many had fallen before his blade.

 

"Rorolumu!" He called out, charging forward through the ash and smoke towards an Imperial Reaper sat down range from him. Not moments ago it had nearly blasted him to oblivion, and it's pilot clearly sought to finish the job. Yet, that decision would prove to be his last. In his tunneled vision, he neglected to spot the Lalafellin Black Mage channeling magic at his flank. There was a sudden burst of flame, and what was once the might of the empire's fist incarnate was nothing but a smoldering heap of twisted metal. Endemerrin hurried over to his companion, relief washing over his face as a red-haired Miqo'te woman stood ever vigilant at the Lalafell's side. She was safe.

 

"We need to keep pushing! We have to get to--"

 

It was almost as if the air itself suddenly changed direction, sucking in like a vacuum. Endemerrin felt himself being tugged along ever so slightly, before a powerful gust of wind reversed his direction and sent him tumbling back to the earth. The ground quaked, and a thunderous boom echoed out across the battlefield. As the dust settled, he could only look on in complete disbelief at the massive glowing spire that sat perched in the center of the battlefield. It were almost as if it called a ceasefire, forcing both Imperial and Eorzean alike to cast aside their differences and throw their gazes to the heavens. Dalamud stirred. The moon groaned, and though it had been steadily crumbling throughout the entirety of the battle, it was clear something was truly amiss. A great wave of flame rolled across it's surface, shattering it's outer shell in the process. Nothing could have prepared Endemerrin for what was to come. The silhouette of two great wings unfurled from the apex of the moon, and a blood-curdling growl rumbled out from deep within.

"....What in the hells is-- ?"

 

The thought couldn't even leave his mouth before a roar of pure anguish and suffering shook him to his very core. Dalamud shattered, and the land was engulfed in flame as fragments of the satellite rained down upon it. He barely had time to collect himself before the massive wyrm cut through the sky, trailing behind him a myriad of destructive flares. Endemerrin could only watch on as the world withered.

 

But it would not be it's end.

 

Though the allied forces began to withdraw, Endemerrin and his companions pushed onward against the flow, ears deaf to their cries of retreat. He had made a promise. To himself, to the people he loved, to Eorzea herself. Louisoix Levelleiur was their final hope, and he would see the man protected until the very end. He had given him his word. Together, they converged upon the Archon's position with countless other adventurers. Some were even familiar faces from his travels, friends of whom he had not seen in moons. They had all made the same commitment as he had. They all shared the same goal. His brow furrowed in determination as he took up position at the base of the stone pillar upon which the Elezen was perched. Nothing would uproot them. This would be their final stand. United, they could not be toppled.

 

A stray flare came whirling through the air, eager to put an end to their desperate act of defiance. Yet there was a resounding boom, and the flames extinguished themselves upon a great shield that had been erected around them. Even still, it was not enough to stand against the elder primal's wrath. Another surge of flame shattered it entirely, and all attempts at reconstructing it were met with even greater opposition. As the smoke began to settle, the great wyrm descended from the skies, parting the clouds with a single flap of his gargantuan wingspan. He let out yet another bellowing roar, but left himself vulnerable for a crucial moment. It was Louisoix's chance to strike.

 

Great beams of light pierced the heavens, and the Archon thrust his staff in the air. The spires of light seemed to take shape as they rose high into the air. Heavenly spears. They quickly vanished from sight before arcing back down to pierce the wyrm twelve times over. It let out another cry of agony as it struggled against the ritual, though it seemed to be of no use. Another shell quickly formed itself around the elder primal, eerily reminiscent of Dalamud itself. With it, a great array covered the sky, and symbols of the twelve manifested themselves around this new prison. Endemerrin stared on with bated breath as the summoning ritual neared completion. He could feel it deep within himself. This would be it. Everything they fought for would not be in vain. Yet that moment of triumph never came. There was a burst of flame, and the shell was shattered. Endemerrin's heart sank in his chest as the intricate weave of aetheric energy that had filled the skies not moments before faded into obscurity within the hellish flames that took their place.

 

It was over.

 

In the end, Endemerrin could not help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. He had long since come to terms with the notion that this battle would be his last. He knew the moment he offered his blade unto the Archon. He made a promise. That he would do everything in his power to protect him, but more importantly, to protect his home and the people he loved. He had done just that. It was all he had ever asked of himself.

 

In his final moments, he turned to his beloved, drawing her into an embrace as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. His eyes drifted down over her shoulder to the Lalafellin Black Mage who stood at their side. "Goodbye." He mouthed, to which his elderly companion simply nodded. His eyes turned to the heavens, and he watched as the world around him faded to white.

[align=center]

Five years later.[/align]

There was a great rush of air, and for the briefest of moments it felt as though he were weightless. The white quickly washed over him, and where once sat rock and flame was the lush, green foliage of what could be nothing other than the shroud. His eyes drifted from Xenedra, down to Rorolumu, who stood in the same place he had moments before. "Are we--" He glanced around at their surroundings, releasing Xenedra from his embrace. "...Is this it?" He laughed tiredly. "Has Thal truly seen fit to grant us a place in his realm?"

 

"No." Rorolumu cut in, his voice filled with hesitation. "....We're in the Twelveswood." He almost sounded as though he didn't believe the words coming from his own mouth. The trio spent little time glancing between each other before setting out through the trees. No words needed to be spoken. They all sought one thing, and one thing only.

 

Answers.

 

 

 

[ArmachiA]

I actually wrote Loki's at launch, but never got around to writing Armi's, maybe for the one year anniversary I'll actually do that.

 

Loki Aethertide:

 

It was amazing, the silence that filled the air the moments before swords began to clash. Both sides hesitant, waiting to see what the other would do. Everyone was looking around, waiting for the words to either end the war or start it officially. Fear could be seen in the eyes of most, glee could be seen in some. The air whipped around them, thousands – no hundreds of thousands – of people and all that could be heard was the wind through the trees.

 

The roar that could be heard when the battle started was completely deafening.

 

It was chaos, though that was to be expected. Some people didn’t even get to fight; they were, instead, trampled underneath the armored feet of the combatants. A shame, but she had no time to mourn them. Her focus was only on survival and she was as quick as she could be with her bow. The first few arrows went into a few heads, but she missed with the next one. She had no time for such mistakes, not if she wanted to get out of this alive. Not if she wanted to protect the others who were on the battlefield with her.

 

When the fighting started the Crimson Blades were quick to scatter, she had no idea where any of them were or how any of them were doing. Ellion, she was sure, would be able to take care of himself and, knowing him, he would probably be one of the only ones to survive. Siben and Stanzie were both wild cards, could go either way. She frowned as she thought of Lloire. A seventeen year old had no place on the battle field, but regardless of how much any one told him, he simply didn’t listen. She could only hope he was as tough as he thought he was. Her mind then went to Armi, the priestess she was training to use a bow. The girl had really only been a medic, sometimes entertaining people with her guitar. Could she survive something like this? Her mind flash over each member of the Crimson Blades she could remember as she rocketed arrows into Garlean skulls.

 

She tried to ignore the carnage around her and focus on the task of staying alive, though that wasn’t easy with the screams of pain from places unknown and puddles of blood beginning to form underneath her feet. She could block most of it out, she was good at such things, but reality hit her in the face whenever someone was slaughtered within close range. She sighed in annoyance; she was quickly running out of arrows, she would have to pull back soon and find a way to get more if she kept up this pace. Her arms started to ache more and more with each pull of the bow string, exhaustion setting in after a while. She wasn’t sure how long she had been out there – an hour, maybe two? Time was meaningless to her brain, but her body was letting her know she couldn’t keep it up much longer.

 

“Flank their East side!” She heard a familiar voice yelling next to her. She turned to see Ellion, commanding a team of about 10 or so people. As soon as they heard Ellion’s order, they took off running in the direction he had ordered. The Miqote Male looked battle worn and tired, but he was standing as upright as possible, as if trying to seem more leader-like. She ran over to him, pushing people out of the way in the process and gave him a small, but meaningful, salute.

 

“Ellion.” She said in her usual monotone voice as she struck a Garlean soldier in the shoulder with a well-placed arrow.

 

“You’re still here.” He ran over to the soldier and stuck his sword into his neck, blood spraying over his face and chest as the soldier fell. Ellion’s cat-like ears curled back into the top of his head and his tale twitched ever so slightly, “I’m glad.”

 

“Is that surprise I hear in your voice, Goto?” They stood back to back as they fought off the onslaught coming toward them.

 

“Only a little, I assure you.” There was laughter in his voice, though she couldn’t see his face to confirm. Ellion would be handling the situation well, she thought to herself, he had been training for this kind of thing for years, “You should find higher ground, it would be easier for you.”

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you giving me orders.” She told him as one of her arrows went into the head of another Garlean soldier. She pushed the grim reality of that out of her mind and turned toward Ellion. His skin was dark; blood was nearly invisible on him. He was like a shadow on the battlefield and his lithe figure, a staple of all male Miqote, made him quick and agile; a deadly force even among the weapons of war. She was glad he was on her side.

 

“It’s safer for you up there.” He grunted out, “You’ll be a harder target to hit.”

 

“Concerned?”

 

“A bit.” He sighed, “It doesn’t matter what Fillion did, you are my commanding officer.”

 

Despite the fact she wanted to argue, he did have a point. An archer in the thick of the battle field was hardly useful, so she nodded and patted him on the shoulder, “You won’t die down here, alright?”

 

“Is that an order?”

 

“You bet your ass it is.”

 

“Then I must obey.” He bowed. A Garlean soldier took that as an opportunity to attack from behind him, but Ellion merely plunged his sword into the soldier’s belly and thrust it upward, nearly cutting the man in half. He fell to the ground and pieces of his insides spilled onto the battlefield. Loki flinched; Ellion merely blinked.

 

“I’ll see you on the other side.” She smiled at him and turned around, looking toward the hills along the battlefield. She didn’t have the nerve to turn around again; if she did she might burst into tears or something equally pathetic. Ellion had been her right hand man in the Crimson Blades almost as long as she had been an officer. He was just as close to her as any of the crew on her ship, the thought of him not surviving was one she couldn’t bear. Instead, she immediately pressed forward, looking at a small hillside where she could get a better view of the action. It looked practically untouched, people were just going around it, but the problem was getting there.

 

Fighting through hundreds of people, she kept her eye on the prize and used her arrows as little as possible. That required creative use of the terrain, bobbing and weaving her way around the many battles being fought. This proved extremely difficult with her prosthetic leg, she wasn’t exactly known for speed with it, but she managed to make it to the base of the hill with very little fighting. She sighed and looked up at the sky, the large red moon Dalamud hung there as if mocking everyone involved in the fight. She cursed, and then began the climb to the top of the small hill.

 

Or at least she would have if an arrow hadn’t hit her shoulder, sending her to the ground in an instant. She roared in pain, letting out a few more curse words for good measure and immediately pulled the thing out. Unfortunately for her, another pierced her right hand, pinning her to the ground below. Great, someone had it out for her. A dark shadow loomed over head and she saw the armor of a Garlean archer, now close enough to get the killing blow. He pulled back his bow, aiming for her head. With her hand pinned to the ground there was nothing much she could do… except for kick him as hard as she could with her prosthetic leg. That thing was heavy, and it was certainly heavy enough to knock the archer off balance, which gave her time to pull the arrow out of her hand and stab him in the leg. He let out a groan and pulled out a dagger, thrusting it down toward her quickly. She tried to dodge, but he stabbed her in her side.

 

“Twelve!” She cursed and tried to kick him away again. He fell backwards. Giving her time to try and get upright to get to her bow.

 

“Hey, get away from her!” She heard a familiar, female voice yell from an unknown location. She turned toward the voice and saw Stanzie, running toward them at top speed.

 

“Stanzie! No!” She tried to yell as loud as possible, but the dagger in her side made her voice come out almost like a whisper. Stanzie had no front line experience and she barely had combat experience – just what Loki and Ellion managed to teach her when she wasn’t on duty. This was a recipe for disaster.

 

The man turned toward Stanzie and began to pick himself up quicker than before. This gave Loki some time to find her bow and stand. With him paying attention to Stanzie she was able to aim her bow and fire, an arrow hitting the man in the back of the neck. He fell, gurgling at first, then going completely silent. Loki collapsed again, looking at the large dagger sticking out of her side. She was pretty sure Stanzie didn’t have the healing power to heal that.

 

Stanzie ran over to her, nearly tripping on the newly dead body, “Loki, are you okay!?”

 

“What are you doing yelling at him!? This is war, not a game of tag!” Loki yelled and tried to smack Stanzie with her good hand, though it really only looked like a small pat. She was getting weaker, losing too much blood.

 

“I had to do something!” Stanzie frowned.

 

“Then use a spell on him, yelling literally does nothing.”

 

“Sorry! I just… I can’t think out here! It’s so… fast… I can’t…” Stanzie looked on the verge of tears, making Loki let out a defeated sigh.

 

“You shouldn’t be out here at all.” Loki let out a groan as she looked down at the dagger in her side, “Can you heal this?”

 

Stanzie shook her head; the Miqote’s ears lay drooped atop her red hair, “Not strong enough. We should get you to the medical tent.”

 

“Stanzie! What are you doing running off like that! You could get hu—Loki, by the gods.” Siben appeared above her, his blue hair covering his pointed face. He kneeled down immediately and grabbed Loki’s good arm, putting it over his shoulders to hoist her up, “Let’s get you healed, huh?”

 

“I’ll help, too!” Stanzie flanked her other side and together they both walked her over to the medical tent, far from the middle of the battle. Siben was quick to make sure no one was following them with his bombs and they made it there without any more scratches or dings. They sat Loki on one of the beds and when they were sure she wasn’t going to fall, Siben turned pointedly at Stanzie.

 

“We need to talk.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Loki’s view. He was probably going to tell her what Loki had, that she shouldn’t be out there. It was too dangerous for her, and she was basically useless.

 

“Miss, are you okay?” A healer came to her bed, an Elezen woman with long blond hair. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the large Garlean dagger in Loki’s side and she quickly took a potion from her apron, handing it to Loki, “This should heal your smaller wounds, I’m afraid that dagger is going to have to come out before we can heal it properly.”

 

Loki mocked a salute with her pointer finger, “Understood.”

 

“I’ll return with a White Mage.” The Elezen nodded and quickly took off. Loki was quick to down the potion and she could feel the wound in her shoulder start to heal. However, it did very little for the hole in her hand… or the dagger in her side. She sighed and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling of the tent. She was dizzy, the pain was almost unbearable.

 

“Loki!” Another familiar voice. This one sounded far away, locked behind the rushing water in her ears. A face appeared above her, looking wide eyed. A young Hyur boy with long, dark, hair and an innocent face. Lloire.

 

“Kid.” She suddenly felt concern, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Huh? Oh! Aliya is hurt.” He answered, “I’m fine.”

 

Aliya Otori. Lloire’s friend. She hadn't many dealings with the girl, but as far as she knew they were close, “Is she okay?”

 

“She’s fine, better than you.” Lloire motioned toward the dagger in Loki’s side with his head.

 

“Nothing a good cure won’t fix.” She put on a smile, “This… is where I’m supposed to tell… you to get off the battlefield.”

 

“But you’re not going to?” He asked.

 

“No, kid, I’m not going to.” She leaned her head back, “I am thinking it really hard, though.”

 

“I’m doing good. You can ask Aliya.” He smiled, “You’d be proud.”

 

She patted his shoulder, “I’m sure I would be. You need to promise you’ll be careful out there.”

 

“I’m always careful, ma’am.”

 

“Don’t call me ma’am.” Loki let out a few coughs. Not as many as she wanted to however, she wanted to make sure the kid wouldn’t worry, “You should get back to your friend.”

 

“I won’t let any of you down. Not Ellion, not Aliya, not you.” He shook his head.

 

“I believe you.” She chuckled, “You’ve grown up. Might be time to stop calling you Kid.”

 

“Really!?”

 

“We’ll talk about it after the battle, go back to your friend.”

 

Lloire merely nodded and walked away from her. Loki frowned as soon as he couldn’t see her anymore. The last place he needed to be was in the middle of this battle, but he was trying so hard to prove himself she couldn’t tell him that. She didn’t want to let on that she was worried. They had grown fairly close during their time with the Blades and he had a lot of spirit. He reminded her a lot of herself when she was his age. She only hoped that he would get out of this in one piece, so he could live to see all that potential of his realized. That would be the biggest tragedy she could think of.

 

“Miss…” A Hyur male with short, brown hair came over to her, pulling her out of her thoughts, “We’re going to heal you now okay? We just have to get that dagger out.”

 

Loki didn’t say anything as he reached for the dagger and pulled it out. She did, however, let out a scream so loud she swore it shook the entire tent. The man was quick to heal her though and pretty soon the only things left on her skin were two small scares where the wounds used to be.

 

“Are you okay?” Siben walked over to her as the healer walked away. Stanzie was right behind him, looking particularly annoyed.

 

“All patched up and ready to go back.” Loki planted her feet on the ground and rolled her right shoulder.

 

“Yeah, let’s get back out there!” Stanzie said with a bit of defiance in her tone.

 

Siben looked at her and sighed, “I thought we talked about this.”

 

“We did.” Stanzie nodded, “And I disagreed.”

 

“Lover’s spat?” Loki asked.

 

“I don’t think she should go back out there.” He said, ignoring Loki’s comment, “She’ll only get herself killed.”

 

“I agree.” Loki looked at Stanzie, who looked at her with a frown.

 

“What am I supposed to do, run away!? I’m fighting with you guys!” Stanzie yelled so loud half the tent looked over to the three.

 

“You’re a walking target out there.” Loki replied calmly, “Siben is just looking out for you.”

 

“But who’s going to look after you!?” Stanzie wailed, again, loudly, “I want to help!”

 

“Why don’t you stay here?” Loki asked her, “You have experience in Conjury and you’re pretty good at making potions. They could probably use the extra hand.”

 

“That’s a good idea, actually.” Siben nodded toward Stanzie, who looked utterly frustrated at the idea.

 

“What!? I need to be out there, with you guys!” Stanzie crossed her arms.

 

Loki stood up and grabbed the large dagger that was once in her side from the table next to her. She looked at it and stuck it in her boot, “We don’t have time to argue this, Stanzie.”

 

Siben sighed, “You’ll make a bigger difference here than you ever would on the field.”

 

Stanzie paused then let out a heavy sigh, her cat-like ears drooping yet again, “Fine. I guess you guys are right.”

 

“Of course we are.” Loki told her as Siben put a hand on Stanzie’s shoulder.

 

“You’re making the right decision here, Stanz.” Siben tried to reassure her, but Loki could tell it wasn’t working.

 

“I’ll go and find someone to volunteer my services.” Stanzie said in a quiet voice with a bit of a bite to it. Once she was gone, Siben looked over to Loki, fixing the glasses on his face.

 

“Thanks for helping me out.” He looked at the ground, as if afraid to look her in the eye.

 

“I wasn’t helping, it was the most logical thing for her to do. “ Loki blinked.

 

Siben chuckled, “Yeah, yeah… I should head back out there.”

 

“Good idea, our side needs your explosive expertise.”

 

“Hey, I do other stuff. I can heal some and I know quite a bit of Thaumaturgy.”

 

“Which is still blowing things up.”

 

“Yes, but with magic.”

 

Both of them laughed softly, but soon silence came between them. Loki didn’t know what to say, it felt like every time she talked to someone she was giving them a goodbye. Now she was about to do it here, with him. She cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant, “Just… don’t draw too much attention to yourself out there, okay?”

 

“Same goes for you.” He smiled, a forced kind of smile that only came from this situation, then turned on his heels and walked out of the Medical tent.

 

Loki stretched and braced herself for another round of battle before heading out of the tent herself. She had to be honest, the break was nice and there was a small part of her that just wanted to lie on one of those uncomfortable cots until the end – whenever that was.

 

“Lloire? Lloire!?” She heard Aliya yelling for the kid and turned around quickly. The Hyur girl was rushing around, her black hair no longer tied in the ponytail that usually held it, her eyes looked paniced and the medical staff looked at her as if she was going absolutely bonkers. Loki cleared her throat and walked over to the girl.

 

“Something wrong?” She said, making Aliya whirl around.

 

“I can’t fin’ Lloire!” Aliya answered a bit panicked, “I think he took off by ‘imself.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow, “He wouldn’t just leave you here.”

 

“I dunno…”

 

“I’ll help look for him, come on.” Loki patted the girl’s shoulder reassuringly and told her to take one half of the large tent, while she took the other. It took about 10 minutes to go through the place, but Loki still came up empty handed. She cursed under her breath, Lloire was never a reckless kid, but he had a lot to prove. With his illness, and being the youngest member of the Crimson Blades actually on an active team, he had always felt the need to prove he was not, in fact, a kid. Would he really leave his friend behind though? It was unlike him, but the fact she couldn’t find him answered her question.

 

“Anythin’?” Aliya asked with a hopeful tone.

 

Loki shook her head, “Seems you were right.”

 

“I was afraid of tha’” She sighed as worry filled her eyes, “He’s only seventeen. If anythin’ ‘appens to ‘im…”

 

“He’s a tough kid, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

 

“Yeah… dun know why he took off without me.”

 

“I’m sure he thought you could handle yourself.” Loki told her, “You’re a decent fighter when you want to be.”

 

“Much better at tha' blacksmithin', than I am fightin’” Aliya chuckled.

 

“Just hit a bunch of people over the head with that hammer of yours, pretend they’re all metal.”

 

Aliya nodded, “Imma go out there and fin’ him. Good luck, Loki.”

 

“You too.” Yet another goodbye. She watched the girl walk away and leave the tent completely. She didn’t know Aliya that well and now she felt regret that she hadn't gotten to. She was close to Lloire, someone she thought of as a student or a younger brother; why hadn’t she gotten to know his friends? Aliya was a talented blacksmith, she had even worked on the inner parts of Loki’s prosthetic leg. She had a style about her, when she was working it was almost like she was dancing; graceful and full of life. She was worth getting to know… why hadn’t Loki made the attempt? She sighed, it was too late now. It was too late for a lot of things. She wanted to be positive but she knew the truth – hardly anyone she knew would make it out of this alive. Loki gathered her thoughts and took a deep breath before grabbing her bow and quiver and heading outside. What she saw outside made her stop in her tracks.

 

Bright red streaks of light flew across the sky in every which direction, barreling toward the ground at breakneck speed. Meteors. They hit the ground with a loud thwak, exploding the ground around them, hurling people unlucky enough to be close high into the air. Other meteors flew past the battle field all together, hitting areas that Loki couldn’t even see. She followed the path they were coming from and felt her jaw drop, mouth agape. The moon, Dalamud, was cracking. Blue, glowing lines began to pattern themselves onto the moon, as giant pillars began dropping from different points. There was no way that was a good sign.

 

She ran back into the tent and found Stanzie healing a random Elezen male near the back.

 

“Stanzie, whatever you do, do not leave this tent.” Loki told her with panic in her voice.

 

Stanzie stood up and looked toward her, “What’s going on?”

 

“Just don’t leave, okay?” Loki ordered, but Stanzie stood there dumbfounded, “Stanzie!”

 

“Yeah, okay okay.” Stanzie nodded and Loki immediately bolted from the tent, diving right into the battlefield to look for anyone else she knew. They had to get out of there, this was about to get so much worse.

 

She tried to avoid fighting as much as possible, calling for people she knew in order to get them evacuated. In her haste she didn’t see the man in the metal armor charge toward her and hit her smack in the face with his gauntlet. She fell, hard, into the ground below and he brought his shield over her head to smash it down on her. She pulled out the large dagger from her boot and stabbed an opening in the leg of his armor and pulled it out, trying to stab it in the other leg. The man screamed and kicked the knife out of Loki’s hand, sending it flying in an unknown direction, before he collapsed to his knees. Loki scrambled up quickly, grabbed for an arrow in her quiver, stabbing the man in his neck. She didn’t have time to see him fall, instead she took off running hoping to find someone, anyone she knew.

 

She fought through the crowd, firing arrows as fast and as often as possible, trying to get through as many Garlean soldiers as possible. After a while she stopped to catch her breath, exhaustion settling into her bones. She hadn’t found anyone, in this crowd it would be almost impossible. She couldn’t give up though, not if she wanted to try to save some lives.

 

“Look out!” A voice said from far away and through all clamoring and yelling and screaming, it seemed to stand out. She turned toward the voice, only to see a large pillar that had descended from the moon suddenly shoot downward, landing hard on the ground below. The impact was explosive, throwing people from the area and throwing a cloud of dirt in the general vicinity. Loki closed her eyes and ducked down to avoid the debris, luckily she was far enough away to only be impacted by dust and dirt from the ground it kicked up. When she opened her eyes she didn’t even have time to catch her breath, the moon exploded in red fire and as it crackled and broke it flung more pillars to the ground. Rising from the broken moon came a large, dragon-like beast. Illuminated by the fires of the moon, it looked like death and as it extended its wings she knew that was exactly what it was. She didn't even wait for it to do anything, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She heard an explosion behind her, the moon had broken into thousands of pieces which were now hurling themselves toward Eorzea, destroying everything in their wake. She dodged what she could and prayed to the twelve nothing would hit her. She could see people all around her injured from the destruction, but she didn't have time to stop. The only thing she could do is run.

 

“Loki!” She heard someone call her name. She recognized the voice and it made her stop in her tracks. Siben.

 

“Siben!?” She yelled and looked around, “Where are you!?”

 

“I’m so glad I found someone!” Siben ran over to her, trying to catch his breath.

 

“I don’t know what’s going on!” She yelled through the noise.

 

“I think it’s the end of the world!” Siben joked then extended his hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here!”

 

She was about to take it when an arrow was flung between them. Looking over she saw three Garlean soldiers, weapons at the ready, with smiles on their faces.

 

“Where’re you goin?” One of them said.

 

Loki rolled her eyes, “The war is pretty much over, don’t know if you got the dragon shaped memo.”

 

“Ain’t over, just means we’re winning.” Another one spat. Loki looked over at Siben. He looked exhausted and his face told her he was not ready for another battle.

 

“You got bombs?” Loki asked him, he shook his head sadly.

 

“Out. Out of bombs, out of mana, out of time.” He answered with a sigh. Loki checked her quiver; only 5 or 6 arrows left. Not enough to put up very

much of a defense. The world around them exploded in red and Loki was starting to lose hope in the current situation.

 

Then, out of nowhere, a bright white light hit one of the men. The others went to go examine him but found themselves hit as well. It was quick, but it was effective, the assault of magic made them fall to the ground, unmoving.

 

“Was that…?” Loki started.

 

“Not me.” Siben put his hands up. They both looked around, from the smoke and dust a small figure appeared with a smile on his face.

 

“Need some help?” Lloire looked at his handy work and dusted off his hands.

 

“Where were you kid?” Loki asked, relieved to see him alive and well.

 

“Doing my duty, what were you—“ Lloire looked up to the sky with wide eyes, “I guess now isn’t the time for a reunion.”

 

“What do you mean?” Siben asked him as him and Loki both turned to look at what Lloire was staring at. The giant dragon beast was emiting white,

missile-like objects from his wings, and began throwing them down to the ground below.

 

“We gotta go. Now.” Loki ordered and both the men nodded. They ran as the missile’s impacted the ground, hitting objects, people; anything in their way. They were heading in the direction of the medical tent, which made Loki wonder if Stanzie was okay. Was it hit? She shook her head, she should be worried about her own survival right now. They needed to find cover, like a cave or something. She stopped and looked around.

 

“Where are we going!?” Siben yelled.

 

“I think if we go this way there’s a—“

 

“LOKI! SIBEN! BEHIND YOU!”

 

What happened next happened so slowly she would have sworn time had slowed down. She turned and saw Lloire push both Siben and Loki out of the way using his magic. He knocked them a good 7 yalms away and she landed hard on her back. Milliseconds later a white missile hit the ground where they had stood… where Lloire was currently standing.

 

“LLOIRE!!” Loki screamed, but there was no answer. The dragon beast was behind them, assaulting the area with his missiles, everytime she tried to run to where he was, a missile would hit near her, forcing her and Siben farther and farther away, “Lloire!!”

 

“We have to go Loki!” Siben yelled to her.

 

“No!” She screamed, “Lloire!”

 

The assault was getting worse, they had to go, she knew that. Still, she couldn’t leave the kid behind.

 

“Loki.” Siben put a hand on her shoulder and she sighed. They both knew the truth, there was no way he survived that. She looked up at him and nodded, and they began running once again, hoping to find somewhere safe.

 

“Look! We’re saved!” A strangers voice said, making Loki turn to look over at where it was coming from. A young man was pointing upward and she turned to look. The beast was being imprisoned in a giant ball of white light. Had the Twelve decided to save them? Everyone around them began to cheer as the beast was enveloped in another circular prison and Loki herself even began to feel hopeful that this was truly the end.

 

That hope only lasted until the beast was able to break free and start his carnage all over again.

 

If the Twelve couldn’t help, who could? She wondered. Exhaustion overtook her, she dropped her bow and fell to her knees, totally unsure of what to do next.

 

That’s when everything went white.

 

[Aysun]

I'm really surprised there aren't more of these!

 

Selene and I did a bit of long-winded storyish RP around going to the battle of Carteneau when the game went down, and then each wrote our own stories for the follow-up when the characters were separated.

 

So, for those who'd want to read it:

 

The RP, Aysun's story, Selene's story!

[SM Nick]

Here's mine, covering Niklas and Rena during the battle, watching the moon fall from afar.

 

The Battle of Carteneau

 

Niklas and Rena have reached the outskirts of Carteneau Flats, while the lesser moon Dalamud was breaching the clouds up above, and the Eorzean Alliance starts to clash with the VIIth Legion.

 

Niklas looks down on the battlefield and the beginning of the death. "It has begun. The death has come." He then looks up at Dalamud. "Why must this happen? Why?"

 

Rena looks at his brother with a sad look, while he is also shedding tears at the chaos. "I don't know. True peace cannot last forever. There will always be someone to incite chaos in the realm once again."

 

Niklas nods in understanding to Rena's words. "My father and mother are fighting down there. Our parents are giving their lives to save ours, and WE CAN'T DO ANYTHING!" He grovels to the ground, slamming both his fists on the ground in tears.

 

The rest of Niklas's group of friends arrive at the scene as well. Arthurioux Rigaud, a Wildwood Elezen Bard, says "'Tis a dark day, ending the Astral Era that has been with our peoples for endless moons, all because of one villain's twisted mind."

 

Maetiraet Sterrwaek, Niklas's best friend and a Sea Wolf Roegadyn Warrior, follows suit in the conversation. "We can only watch, my comrades. We are only mortal. We can only watch and hope that this chaos will cease.

 

Roland Boulder, a Highlander Monk and a fellow refugee from Ala Mhigo. "It is unfortunate that Sarah is no longer with us, isn't it Niklas?" Niklas is still bursting tears. "She just wanted to protect me. She truly cared for me and I ignored her. What kind of knight am I, if I do not heed the call of my comrades?!"

 

Momotaro Kokotaro, a Dunesfolk Lalafell Black Mage, reassured Niklas. "We have been with you every step, Sir. You helped define us. We forged each other in these hard times. And now, our brotherhood will be put to the ultimate test."

 

Niklas, now no longer shedding tears, stands up, with determination. "No one else is dying. Not on MY watch! FORWARD!"

 

The original Gran Knights then set off from their perch to join their fellow adventurers on the battlefield, determined to stop the fighting and save the realm, but alas it was too late.

 

The Rage of Bahamut

 

By the time they reached the battlefield, the spire already fell from Dalamud, and the lesser moon started to crack. They could only look up in terror at what was unfolding.

 

Dalamud had started to crack open, and before long, the elder Primal Bahamut had broken free from its prison, destroying it into multiple pieces and raining fire all over the realm.

 

[Niklas] "What.....what the hells is that?!"

[Rena] "A dragon....?"

[Arthur] "I heard of it. That is what is known as the dreaded Wyrmking......Bahamut."

[Maeti] "Aye we cannot hope to fight against that. It is suicide, I'm afraid."

[Momo] "It's over. We cannot do anything now. All is lost."

 

As the others look around at the destruction, Niklas has found his parents, or actually....their corpses. Rena follows Nik to their dead bodies.

 

[Niklas] "Mom.....dad...."

[Rena] "Brother........are....are they.....?" She begins to cry in despair.

 

As Rena is about to say for the worst, their parents rise back up, battered, but still standing.

 

[Rena] "MOM!"

[Niklas] "PAPA!"

 

The two children hugged their parents, being the first time they have been together as a family in many moons. The father, the Paladin Croix Gran, and the mother, the White Mage Selene Gran, hugged them back.

 

[Croix] "Haha. Somehow I knew you would come, even with the situation at hand. I'm very proud of you two."

[selene] "Rena, your real parents would be extra proud, for carrying on the legacy of your tribe."

 

The other Gran Knights gather towards the family.

 

[Momo] "Pardon me for interrupting, but there is an elder primal causing mass destruction up in the heavens around us. We have but little time."

[selene] "You can all rest assured, that we will survive. The Twelve will protect us."

 

As Selene was saying that, Louisioux and the Circle of Knowing are trying to seal Bahamut back in another Dalamud-like object, with the Twelve being summoned to finish it. The young knights looked in awe.

 

[Maeti] "The Twelve themselves are being summoned?! Perhaps we could live to see another day in this realm!"

[Arthur] "Let us pray that this new prison holds."

[Niklas] (Thinking) "We are going to make it. I know we will."

 

However Croix and Selene knew all too well that it would not be strong enough to contain Bahamut's fury. They could only look at the knights with sad smiles and tears.

 

[Niklas] "What is it?"

[Croix] "Please....stay alive.... and lead this realm unto a new era of peace."

[Rena] "Dad what are you- (GASP)"

 

As Rena said that, Bahamut breaks free of the attempt, and enraged, prepares to cast Mega Flare on the adventurers, including the Knights.

 

[selene] "Goodbye. May ye all walk in the Light of the Crystal."

[Niklas] "Mom?! Dad?!"

 

As Bahamut is about to Mega Flare the realm, a strange light glows from each of the Gran Knights, bar Croix and Selene, who gave them a face of goodbye.

 

[Niklas] "No no NO!" (Screams as the light glows stronger)

 

Each of the Gran Knights then transforms their bodies into aether, against their wills, and they all disappeared, one by one, with Rena and Niklas the last to go, as the Mega Flare reaches Croix and Selene, before the world fades to white.

 

Five Years Later

 

Niklas wakes up in the desert region of Thalanan, by himself, but his body having aged 5 years, yet his mind is still the same. Niklas looks around, confused and sad.

 

"Where am I? Is this Thanalan? Where's everyone? I'm.....all alone. He then looks towards the cliff, seeing a beautiful view of the realm reborn, with Ul'dah in sight too. When looking at this, his demeanor changed back to his usual happy one.

 

"I'll find them. I know they are alive. Someday, we will rise again, and the azure wind shall carry this realm unto a new era."

 

He then arrives at the Gate of Nald, as he takes his first steps onto a realm reborn, not just looking towards the future and his friends, but also for answers.

 

[cuideag]

It hung as a star did but it was bloated, swollen, wrong. Life moved on as well as it could: what else was there to do? Were they to stop the sands would swallow them whole, and no one would remember a caravan of ghosts. They slept with the sun and lived by the stars, but what could one do when the stars were interrupted?

 

Jajara tried not to look. The navigators would work it out as they always did with or without her questions. Jajara and the others huddled in their rooms as Great Berimu himself swayed and trudged through the sands, indifferent and strong as stone. Except there was something different, and everyone could tell. They lived their lives upon his broad back, slept and dreamed as the beast bearing the name of an entire legacy of dunesfolk marched on as he had for years (ages?). It was not of their clan to fear anything, but when the stars were interrupted...

 

Sasasori was the first to stir. The single latern that lit their shared room was not even bright enough to read by but she caught his expression clear as day. His eyes were a deep and rich blue like the sea few ever saw: the first and most prodigious sign that he was unique among his siblings, gifted with the aether that was ever lacking in his line. His eyes, blue and vast, were wide.

 

"Ja," he said with a clarity and firmness better suited for a boy years beyond his age, "Ja, I don't think papa's alright."

 

That was when everything trembled. The steady shifts and rumbles of the dunebeast were familiar to them but not the odd, slow keening that started to grow like an alarm from deep within its body. Everything lurched and Jajara could not tell which way things were moving. The lantern shook and tumbled from its hook and shattered in a flare of candlelight and one of the last things she could see was Sasasori reaching for the thick curtain that hid the sky from view, indifferent to the small cuts on his face that had already begun to bleed.

 

The sky was torn open for them to see but she could see no stars for the clouds blossoming from the north like great, long hands. That's odd, she thought as she tumbled across the floor and struck one of the supports smartly, Those don't look like clouds, not no clouds I ever seen before. 

 

Then, That's odd. Are they comin' this way?

 

[Sounsyy]

Yay! I've been meaning to actually write down this part of Sounsyy's story for a long long time now. I knew what happened, just never got around to actually writing it. Anyways it turned out rather lengthy so I spoilered it in two parts!

 

Without further ado, the Calamity as seen through the eyes of Captain Sounsyy Mirke.

 

 

There was a storm raging overhead. Lightning danced across the sky, seemingly igniting Menphina's Hound suspended in the storm clouds above. The Red Moon had been plucked from the heavens, poised to crash with a moments notice. It sent the Five Seas into a frenzy, and they whipped around the Crimson Fleet as it entered the Straight of Merlthor. Sounsyy was accustomed to the choppy waters of the Merlthor. The keening of her vessel on the waves would not disturb her sleep, nor would the groans as the wood fought off the roiling water. Only nightmares crawled between the peace of deep sleep.

 

Stone pillars crumbled. Sounsyy gasped and fell away - fell into darkness. A mass of Garlean soldiers, all in black, stuck their blades into her flesh. She cried out. The sky above her a bloody mess of red. She ran through the fields outside Ala Mhigo. Garlean warships blotting out the sky. She saw her father fighting the Garleans outside her home. She had had this nightmare before. She knew he was about to die. He turned to look at Sounsyy, only the face was not his. The frame was of her sister, Sophie. She was older now, an adult. She turned towards her sister just as the centurion struck her down.

 

Sounsyy yelped and awoke with a start. Her body was drenched in a cold sweat. Cambre's arm was still draped over Sounsyy. The Elezen seemed undisturbed by Sounsyy's outburst so she sighed and curled up closer to her friend, taking her outstretched hand and nestling it into her chest. Despite Sounsyy's objections, Cambre had insisted earlier on spending the night with her. Sounsyy realized she must have been lonely not having her husband on the voyage to Carteneau. Dasil, despite his being a practiced chirurgeon, was not Maelstrom, and the Admiral had forbade civilians be near this battle.

 

Sounsyy could not get back to sleep that night. Instead, she laid in Cambre's arms and recalled the day before. The fight between her and Iyrnlahz.

 

 

"Godsdamnit, Mirke! You know I can't do that!"

 

The Roegadyn's voice echoed about the room. The 3rd Squadron Commander was half out of his seat, hands bared down on the desk. His aged face was creased with anger. The hairs of his graying beard all but standing on end. Across from him was Sounsyy in formal Maelstrom captain garb. She was also leaned across the desk, her fierce eyes staring the Roegadyn down. Neither of them spoke and the room was silent except for their labored breathing. Iyrnlahz cleared his throat, sat back down, and Sounsyy relaxed as well. Her eyes looked elsewhere while she stood at attention. Iyrnlahz put his face in his hands. 

 

"I can't assign you to the front," the Roegadyn said finally, "You know you were relieved from duty after what happened. Facing godsdamned court marshal in fact!"

"Af-After what happened?!" The Captain repeated, aghast. "My men have sworn an oath to the Maelstrom! We should be on the-"

"What men? Mirke, your men are all dead! ...What were your mission orders, soldier?"

"To defend the forward outpost at Iron Lake from advancing Garleans... sir."

"Damn right it was, Captain! And where in the Seven Hells did your orders say to openly engage not one, but two H-1 Vanguards?! Any Captain worth half your salt would 'ave fallen back and regrouped with the rest o' the Third!"

"Those abominations were carrying their advance, sir. They had to be stopped."

"Your decision cost forty-three good soldiers their lives!"

"You think I don't know that?!"

"You don't seem to give a Qiqirn's arse!" Iyrnlahz exasperated, leaned back into his chair, rubbing his hands against his face. There was a long pause before he decided to speak again, "And what I can't figure is how you survive through it all."

"Sir," Sounsyy started, "I have survived my whole damn life to meet the Garleans on a field where we may stand a chance at victory. This isn't some piss party of beggars and orphans. We have a chance at this! And I have earned my right to be there to see just one victory against the Garleans."

 

Sounsyy stood resolutely in front of Iyrnlahz's desk. There was sweat beading down her face and her eyes were moist with tears. It was all she could do to keep her hands from shaking. For fifteen years she had waited for a chance to strike back at the Empire for what they had done to her home and her family.

 

"Please, sir," she said.

"Thal's balls, I can't stop you. But I ain't givin' you more troops to get killed. Not tha' any would 'ave you as their Captain anyhow. I know you, you'll make due wit' what ya got."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Don't," Iyrnlahz said, standing. He rifled through his desk for her insignia and bicorne. "Sounsyy Mirke, I hereby reinstate your rank as Captain. Yours, the Seventeenth Levy are hereby commanded to assemble for departure to Carteneau tomorrow with the main host. Maybe Thal will finally take you back on Carteneau."

"Aye, you hope," Sounsyy said, laughing just a little. He let a smile form across his face. The first one in a long time for either of them. 

"Aye, but I reckon Thal don't want you. Just take care of yourself out there and your men. I look forward to many more screamin' matches with you before I go."

"Iyrnlahz, you really think any of us are going to make it out of this alive?"

"Mm. Be seein' you on the battlefield, Mirke," Iyrnlahz said, signifying that the conversation was over and Sounsyy was dismissed. 

"Aye, we'll be the platoon out in front pushing them hellions back," the Captain said as she walked out of the Coral Tower office. The doors closed behind her and Iyrnlahz was left alone with his friend's words. Every second seemed to be flying away from them all, but all Iyrnlahz could do was sit there.

 

 

Nearly a week had passed since the Crimson Fleet had made port at Vesper. From there, the Maelstrom joined the Flames in their long march north. Sounsyy thought often of her seventeen remaining soldiers and if any of them would live to see victory, if victory was even to be had.

 

Marlow, a child of only sixteen summers, had not spoken a word since their loss at Iron Lake. Her gaze was empty as she marched beside her captain. They had all lost friends that day, but Marlow lost more than that. Sounsyy reached out with an arm and pulled Marlow close to her as they marched. Marlow offered no smile, but laid her head softly atop Sounsyy's. The gesture was enough to reassure both women that everything was going to be okay.

 

The night before the last battle, the small company ate and drank together. Red tents pitched around a camp fire on the barren rock of Carteneau. Nearby, other camps laid out the same. The 7th could hear hearty drinking songs and loud proclamations of undying affection. It may have only been due to the swill, but the drunken raucous seemed to do something for the weary Lominsans. It was a little piece of home. But as the night went on, the somber mood crept back from the shadows and soon everyone retreated into their tents to get one last sleep.

 

Sounsyy, fearful of what demons sleep would bring, stayed vigil over the dying campfire. From her waistband she withdrew a small leather-bound journal. It had belonged to her little sister when she was just learning her calligraphy. Sounsyy smiled and thought how much smarter her sister must be now. How long it took for Sounsyy to teach herself the most amateur of pen strokes. Still, these last few months she had made an effort to write in that small journal in the hopes it would one day make it back into her sister's hands.

 

So Sounsyy started to write.

 

[align=center]I write this from the Carteneau Flats.

The Nations march against Garlemald here.

I can see their banners and I can hear their metal boots with such deafening clarity.

I cannot imagine my way from this.

I would never imagined my nameday to be my last day.

I only imagine that somehow I will see you on this battlefield.

If there is any sleep to be had, I will not have it tonight with that thought.

When all time seems to be out, I have managed to set aside this time for you...[/align]

 

 

She awoke before dawn the next day. Cambre was sitting upright on the edge of her cot, already fully armored. But Sounsyy could still feel her warmth on her back as if she was still there. A stoic gaze from her Elezen friend told her it was time. So she rose as well and went to the makeshift vanity in her tent. The air was crisp outside the blankets and Sounsyy's skin formed small bumps across her body.

 

She stood before her vanity, eyeing her near-naked form in the dim light. She bent and danced her legs into her pants bottoms. The small leather tights framed her thighs and fit snugly in place when she finished the process. As she tied her waistbelt she felt Cambre behind her. Sounsyy lifted her arms above her head and Cambre pulled the leather jerkin down into place. Sounsyy poked her head out of the collar and began making minor adjustments to the fit.

 

"I saw you writing to Sophie last night," Cambre said softly, busying herself with Sounsyy's armor, "What did you say?"

 

Sounsyy was now sitting, her legs propped up in front of her. She was pulling on her armored thigh boots. The cobalt plating felt slick from the morning dew. She eased one boot into place, bringing the lip up to meet the crease of her knee. As she started on the other boot she replied, "I told her about Ala Mhigo. About home."

"Tell me," Ceirette said, as if the words might whisk her back to their home. As if this had all been one bad nightmare. It had been, but it wasn't one they'd soon awake from.

 

"It was the most beautiful city in Eorzea," Sounsyy began.

 

[align=center]The crisp air from the north blew in every morning,

sweeping the night's dew from the flowers.[/align]

 

Sounsyy pulled her hair into a tuft of a ponytail as she recited. The defiant fibers drifted lazily back out of position and made their way like vines into tight crevices of Sounsyy's armor.

 

[align=center]When I was a Miqo'te of just ten summers,

Cambre and I would play with sticks and pebbles by the river.

You would sit and try to eat the flowers on the bank.

You were only four.[/align]

 

Sounsyy pulled on one sleeve and then the other. They fit as close as her leggings, flexible and safe. Cambre came behind Sounsyy and fitted her breastplate to her chest. Sounsyy held it in place while Cambre fussed over her sloppy attempt to keep her hair out of the way. Cambre fixed it into a appealing bun and proceeded to tighten the belts that held breastplate to backplate.

 

[align=center]Cambre would go and take the flowers you picked and string them into your hair.

She wasn't even family, but you would never know...[/align]

 

To her forward leg, more plate armor. Gloves and gauntlets as well. Cambre finished tightening Sounsyy's armor and retreated a step to assess her work. Sounsyy stared ahead into the vanity. Her own gaze piercing her. She opened a kit - makeup. With her half gloved hand she applied gold paint to her eyelids. She looked down at the gold paint still on her ring finger before wiping it clean across her breastplate, leaving a golden streak across the cold cobalt.

 

[align=center]For the first time in many moons, I smile as I write this.

I have strayed far but always my thoughts are with you...

 

...There by your side until I know you are safe.[/align]

 

Cambre hugged her friend from behind, shedding a few tears. Sounsyy reached up and held on to her embrace tightly. Dawn had risen and a pale light crept into the tent. It was quiet this morning. No songs, no birds, no rustle of movement could be heard outside. It was as if they were walking ghosts already. The war was already over.

 

"Can you breathe? Is it tight?" Cambre finally asked, letting go of her friend.

"A bit, but I can breathe well enough."

 

Cambre handed Sounsyy her shortsword, which she took with a grimace. She swallowed hard as she sheathed it above her rear. The pair nodded to each other and exited the tent.

 

Outside the 7th waited, dressed and eating. They looked to Sounsyy as she exited her tent. Some stood, others remained as they were, but their attention was undivided. They were waiting for words of encouragement. Words of wisdom. Maybe a rallying cry. But their captain had nothing to offer. She looked at them all and gave the best smile she could muster.

 

"Our orders, Cap'n?" Himalanka asked from his seat by the campfire. Sounsyy regarded the marauder, unsure how to answer. She waited a moment before speaking.

 

"There's an old story I'm sure we all know. Were Beaumont 'ere, he'd probably tell it better. But legend goes in the beginning days, our goddess Llymlaen gave birth to twin serpents and tasked them to fill the empty seas with water. From them sprung forth great volumes of the stuff, and life flourished in the wellspring they created. But as the seas filled and spilled upon land, Llymlaen realized the waters would not stop. So she bound the serpents to an isle and hid it away from the rest of the world. For if the seal were ever broken, the seas would surely swallow all. It's a story we all know, but today we are living it."

 

There were a few puzzled looks, so Sounsyy continued, "Today, Garlemald is that flood. They have risen from nothing and they have claimed lands that were not theirs to take. They have taken our homes. They have taken our families. And today they may take our lives. But the Navigator is here with us today! She 'as tasked us with stopping this flood. If they are not stopped here on Carteneau, today, they will surely swallow all Hydaelyn tomorrow. Today, there is no retreat. We lay them low into this rock! The Garlean flood claims no more of our lands!"

 

Cheers sounded. Sounsyy looked around and noticed that others had crowded around. Men and women from other Levies had made their way over towards the sounds of hope. No matter how small. The 7th were all on their feet now. They nodded in support of their captain.

 

"Til Sea Swallows All," one of them said.

"Til Sea swallows All," joined in another. Then another, and another, until it rose to a chorus, "Til Sea Swallows All! Til Sea Swallows All!"

 

 

Til Sea Swallows All, Sounsyy repeated in her head as they stood in formation facing the Garleans. The sun was starting to set now - the day spent in strategy rooms and making last minute preparations for the battle to come. Now it was here.

 

The Eorzean alliance stood shoulder to shoulder, Red with Blue, Blue with Yellow. Sounsyy's own Levy nestled in the sea of red and black armor and coats of the Maelstrom. They made up the far left flank of the host. Off to her right Sounsyy thought she saw Iyrnlahz barking orders to some soldiers at the front. Then she felt a hand upon her shoulder. Marlow was standing there, her face pale. Sounsyy brushed the hair out of the girl's face with a gentle hand.

 

"I'm here," Sounsyy said softly to the girl.

"Thank you, Captain," Marlow answered, her gaze locked ahead. Sounsyy followed it and saw that the Garleans were advancing forwards in a slow march.

 

So it began.

 

To her right Sounsyy saw the Immortal Flames surge forwards towards the Garleans. Soon, orders began barking across every linkshell in the alliance. She heard the Admiral's voice, <All units advance!>

Then, <7th Squadron, charge!>

<Black Sails, charge!>

Finally, Commander Iyrnlahz's voice, <3rd Squadron, charge!>

 

"Forward!" Sounsyy barked to her Levy, "Marauders to front! Lancers to flanks! Ranged to center! We break the enemy line and make a hole for the Levies behind us!"

 

The march turned into a full run. The two armies clashed and chaos ensued. The forward rows had broken down into skirmishes and brawls, weakening the line. Bullets rang out across the field and Sounsyy watched as soldiers fell in plumes of blood. Her Levy pushed through the fighting and hit the Garlean line.

 

"Push!" Sounsyy with her shield and shortsword barreled head on into the enemy line, gaining ground. Marlow swung wildly with her axe just to Sounsyy's right. They pushed the line back and then forced it open by parting their Levy in two like an opening gate.

 

"Fire!" As the forward line of their Levy parted in the middle, the Levy's three remaining Musketeers peppered the surprised Garleans with musket fire. The Garleans in range fell back under the barrage. Seizing the opportunity, a Levy from the 4th Squadron rushed through the opening the 7th had created in the Garlean line.

 

The left flank pushed forwards, but the Garleans were quick to regroup. Sheer weight of numbers crushed the advance and the left flank fell to chaos. The spearhead scattered and the battlefield descended into red armor against black armor. Sounsyy was thrust into the sea of black and was separated from her Levy. From the left, a Garlean rushed her. She met him with her shield, the curved scutum crushing into the Garlean's face. She brought her shortsword up into his side and let his lifeblood spill onto the rocks. She turned to face another, slashing down into his forward leg. Another - brought down with the driving force of her shield and sword.

 

She felt a pounding in her chest harder than her own heartbeat as heavy artillery from the Garlean side boomed out over the den. She turned to see maybe a dozen shells crash deep into the Eorzean host behind her. Pillars of smoke and flame and rubble exploded out from the blast sites. Her linkpearl crackled <War Sails! Return fire!>

 

More artillery answered the first round as both sides fired at will. But the battle below was still ongoing. Sounsyy turned back towards the Garleans just in time to catch a broadsword in full cleave. Sounsyy was laid flat, the Roegadyn sized blade cutting into the top of her breastplate. She rolled over, trying desperately to dislodge the blade without relinquishing it to its owner. The heavy blade fell free and Sounsyy scrambled to her feet to face her attacker. The Roegadyn came at her, pushing her back down to the ground. He picked up the sword and just as he was about to bring it down on Sounsyy, a spear caught him through the back.

 

In a flash of yellow, two mounted soldiers raced by Sounsyy, cutting through the Garlean line. She looked on long enough to see the one who saved her get thrown from his slain mount and drown beneath the black tide. She turned away only to have her heart stop. No more than forty yalms before her she saw the remnants of her Levy. The Psahl sisters, X'pnahgo and X'rhoeja, were back to back against a unit of Imperials. The brilliant crackle of their muskets illuminated the numbers swarming them. One soldier managed to slip through the spray of musket fire and gutted X'rhoeja where she stood. X'pnahgo shoved the muzzle into the Garlean's face and pulled the trigger.

 

Having lost the will to go on, X'pnahgo collapsed beside her sister, cradling her lifeless form. Before the soldiers could approach, Eric, the only other shieldsman to survive Iron Lake, burst into view. He fought fiercely against X'rhoeja's killers, but in the end fell too.

 

An Eques rushed Sounsyy and her attention was drawn away from X'pnahgo's fate. She avoided his thrust and laid him low with a swing of her blade. When she looked back to where X'pnahgo had been, she saw only a mass of Imperial soldiers. A wave of emotion struck Sounsyy and a few unwelcome tears slid down her cheeks. She breathed deep, but the air was thick with ash and smoke, and it only brought more tears.

 

With clouded eyes she slew a soldier whose back was turned. Then gutted another as he approached. Another soldier hurried past, but Sounsyy stayed her blade when she saw the Maelstrom insignia. She caught the Barracuda by the arm and he wheeled around with panic-stricken eyes.

 

"Where are you going, sergeant?!"

"Let me go! There's just too many! I don't want to die here!"

 

Sounsyy punched the man square in his jaw and screamed at him, "Since when did our godsdamned motto become 'Til Garlemald Swallows All'?! Until you see the sea's last great wave you stand your ground! Until I says so we are the great wave that will swallow Garlemald, not the other way around! Now on your feet!"

 

Sounsyy dragged the welp up and together they engaged the Garlean line. Together they slew five before gunfire cut the sergeant down. Sounsyy brought her scutum up to protect herself and watched as an Imperial footsoldier rushed past. She turned and slipped her shortsword upwards into his flank. She spilled his blood and turned ready to engage the next foe, only to find none.

 

Panicked, Sounsyy looked around her to see the area clear of fighting for five yalms in either direction. Her eyes followed the part in the waters to see an Imperial Reaper charging its cannon. Sounsyy gasped as the Reaper's cannon sounded. Unable to run, she dropped to her knees and threw up her scutum in front of her. She knew it would not hold. She buried her face in the crook of her arm and waited for the end.

 

Amid the chaos she heard someone scream her name, but she knew not who. She looked up in time to see Iyrnlahz's frame come between her and the fiery blast. What she could see of his face looked weary, his body heaving, his axe bloody. Then he was gone.

 

Everything shone in white and red and yellow. Sounsyy felt the force of the blast crush her into the ground. Her shield shattered and metal fragments exploded outwards in all directions. Her head swam, her ears deaf with ringing, and her eyes could not see through the tears that were streaming down her face. She tried to draw breath, but could not. She felt as though she could not inflate her chest. Her armor was too heavy, too constricting. She tried to push herself over onto her side, but when she did her forearm bent at an unnatural angle.

 

A shrill yelp escaped Sounsyy's closing airway. Her mouth was agape like a fish out of water. Soot and ash covered her face. Her hair was smoldering. She saw the Reaper approaching and knew that the pain would soon be over. But inexplicably, the Reaper lurched and wheeled away and to the ground. Mirke's spear, Liberator, standing erect from out of the carcass of the Reaper pilot. Cambre and Marlow came running to Sounsyy's side not a moment later. Cambre pulled Sounsyy's broken form upright into her chest while Marlow stood guard.

 

"Marlow! We have to retreat! We have to retreat now!"

"Go! They've set up a medical camp at Brittlebark! I'll hold them off! Get back to the Allied line!"

 

Cambre put her arms beneath Sounsyy and hoisted her off the ground. Marlow dug her axe blade into the clavicle of an approaching Garlean. She ran towards another but then the ground shook violently and she was thrown off balance. Sounsyy fell from Cambre's arms and the Elezen was thrown in another direction. Sounsyy landed hard on the ground and rolled onto her side. The sharp pain forced an inhalation through her swollen airway and she managed to inflate one side of her chest.

 

Once the pain had subsided, Sounsyy cast her gaze skyward to see Dalamud rip itself apart. The moon broke apart as some monstrosity broke its way free. Time seemed suspended in that moment, then, the broken husk of Dalamud erupted with fire and exploded outwards. The ground shook violently again as the first bits of the moon crashed into the Flats.

 

<Co...und...it! We...ost...ntact...to...t...main...st.> Sounsyy could just make out the garbled transmission before her linkshell crackled and died.

 

Sounsyy tried screaming for Cambre, for Marlow, but all she managed was a pitiful whistle, noiseless amid the ensuing chaos. Men and women, Eorzean and Garlean both scrambled over one another trying to escape the battlefield. Sounsyy finally caught sight of Marlow several yalms away. She was standing there, silhouetted in flame. Sounsyy saw Marlow face the sky, then watched in horror as falling debris came crashing down around her.

 

Sounsyy felt a strong hand on her shoulder ease her over onto her back. She thought for a moment it was Cambre, but it wasn't. A conjurer from her Levy, Theresa, was staring her in the eyes. She mumbled something to Sounsyy and Sounsyy felt the warm gush of healing magic wash over her. For just one moment, she was able to catch her breath. The ringing in her ears ebbed away and suddenly Sounsyy felt drowsy. She could fight no longer.

 

Sounsyy's gaze lifted skyward. The clouds had parted over Carteneau revealing a brilliant display of magic strewn across the sky. A new, blue Dalamud had replaced the old and gargantuan glyphs belonging to the Twelve encircled the orb. The whole battlefield shimmered in a wash of blue light. Then the spell failed and shattered. The blue was replaced with red flames tearing across the sky in all directions. She felt the ground beneath her crumble and Sounsyy thought that all Hydaelyn was about to shatter as Dalamud had.

 

The Sixth Astral Era truly is the last...

"Captain, we have to run!"

 

Theresa made to stand, her hand outstretched for Sounsyy's good one. Sounsyy tried to take it, but flaming debris whipped about them and struck the conjurer down. She crumpled in a spray of blood. Sounsyy screamed in horror but the pain of her injuries started to return. She knew she could not waste Theresa's sacrifice.

 

With her good arm she dragged her aching body across the rubble. She only managed a few yalms distance before she could no longer continue. Her muscles screamed for air but she could no longer force any down. Colors danced before her eyes in those last few seconds before consciousness failed the Captain and she found herself being carried away in another pair of strong arms.

 

 

[Berrod Armstrong]

I'd been holding this one for some time! It's a three part thing, but I'll post the first one only. Berrod's experience!

 

 

 

 

 

There had been sunsets when The Red Hammer enjoyed seeing the sky bathed in crimson; moments of repose and reflection that marked the close of a well-spent day. The sky as it was then could only be called the cruelest of mockeries regarding that very thing. From the northwest the red glow of Dalamud spread, reaching all the way south until it dissipated to the black, starless sky. In a manner of speaking, it was a sunset. The last sunset this part of the world would see. In that light, it held a tragic, terrifying beauty.

 

The Red Hammer held no illusions or false hopes about what was to come. The red globe sagged heavily, releasing firey spittle upon the lands below -- some of which landed less than a malm from where his small encampment stood. It looked brittle, as if about to burst into thousands of tiny, harmless pieces and end moons of terror. He knew this was not so. He knew that when it landed, the destruction would wipe out nigh everything that had ever once been Thanalan -- and more. 

 

He knew as well that there was battle under the red abscess; a battle that many of his own men had gone to fight for the sake of those who couldn't. He had intended to fight as well. The destructive abilities of an Ala Mhigan monk were nothing to be trifled with upon the battlefield. Yet, in a rare coup his followers had demanded that he remain with the camp -- remain and give their families hope, and protect them in the unlikely event that the moon's fall did not amount to absolute obliteration. A few had remained with him -- a pair of thaumaturges, two gladiators, a monk under his own tutelage and an odd one who had studied the ways of nature and conjury. Rubbish magic, he thought, but anything that could possibly help was needed.

 

An echoing peal of thunder cracked across the desert -- no, not thunder. Just another of that blasted moon's death groans. There had been many in the past few hours, punctuated by the distant booms of the debris that fell from it. This one, unlike the one before, unsettled the small group that had assembled to do their final duty. Everyone knew, the time was nigh.

 

With a deep breath, The Red Hammer steeled himself to begin the end. "Are the families properly tucked away?" The question was addressed to anyone who would answer. The one who did, he had not the focus to identify.

 

"Aye, Hammer. They're as safe as we could make 'em, huddled in the tents nice and tight. It's up to us to give 'em a chance, at least."

 

There was no chance.

 

"Alright then. Erect your wards, and pay them attention! If they fall, each of you knows what must be done." The words were spoken with stern inflection to those around him. There were no questions, only actions. Truncheons and a staff swept in strange motions, and soon, a glimmering translucence surrounded the small camp. Their last hope. Flimsy in the face of the glowing red doom.

 

"Remember!" He roared. "Remember the reason our brothers and sisters are fighting! Remember the reason why we are protecting their loved ones! Remember the reason why we are not running! We are Ala Mhigan! Once were we driven from our homes, once we chose not to fight, and we were forced to look back in regret for the rest of our days. Not today! Today we stand in the face of earth, sky and fire to fight, to protect to the last! When we face Rhalgr in the hereafter, we will sing his praises and he will favor us! Steel your hearts! Do what must be done! Death is our final foe, and we will make it suffer for this victory!"

 

The din of voices that rose in assent came not only from the paltry defending group, but back from the tents as well. His voice had carried. The power of the fifth had made it so. Their spirits had raised. 

 

Yet, it was not enough to push up the moon's fall. Another low rumble sounded, and a chorus of voices followed the pointing of fingers. Something had happened to the crimson sphere -- something had -fallen- from it. The impact shook the ground even where they stood. 

 

It had begun. And soon, it would end.