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velnica · 6 months

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🎄 Happy Starlight 2023! ✨

Thank you for all your support this year as I expand my OC & bard boys lore. It’s been a blast and a half, so let’s have even more fun next year!

Love ~ Vel, Fjora, Cora and the bard unit

After the Final Days were thwarted and the various contingents returned home, the populace—soldiers and civilians alike—needed something positive to cling to. Not just hope on the ephemeral Warrior of Lights, but also something nearer and dearer to their heart: a return to normalcy. Thus for Starlight this year, the bard unit had been roped into performing on stage, and Sanson asked for every one of his team to join him and Guydelot.

They were supported by Fjora, Cora, and Haurchefant, who had settled—for now—in Gridania. To Sanson's shock and Guydelot's amusement, Commander Vorsaile had raised his hand to join the festivities, and who was Sanson to reject the chance for more merriment? Group assembled, they took to the stage, ready to share some Starlight cheer for one and all.

Individual photos and bio of the bard unit under the cut 💖

The following character bios are written to fit into my WoL's canon timeline and therefore will not reflect the game's information. Edit 25 Dec: I have updated some of their ages to a few years younger, to explain their absence from being conscripted at Carteneau.

Warrior of Lights:

Fjora Swiftmane: A Rava Viera of fourty-eight summers who left Golmore in search of freedom, only to find it eventually trampled under Garlean ruthlessness. She joined the Dalmascan resistance for a time, though Livia sas Junius' massacre ended her involvement. Fjora left Othard with anger and grief in her heart, and Hydaelyn's calling to be her champion was the start of her healing journey. She is an Uhlan, a heavy-infantry lancer whose skill is now augmented by her Dragoon training.

Corentin Arceneaux: A Wildwood Elezen bard of twenty-five summers, born to antique trader parents in Othard. He became a ward of Rasho and Tansui after his parents were murdered by the Garleans for being undercover Resistance financiers. Cora stayed in the Ruby Sea until the liberation of Doma, when he decided to travel with his long lost sister/close family friend Fjora. His weapon of choice is his giant Hingan bow and his magic-imbued Sanshin. At present he is entangled in some kind of strange relationship to one Hancock Fitzgerald, to whom he owes money for breaking a priceless vase in his collection.

The Twin Adder Bard unit:

Sanson Smyth: A young Midlander lancer who captains the Bard unit. He is steadfast with a strong sense of morality and justice, a trait that often puts him at odds with his Adder superiors. Yet with the support of Guydelot and Vorsaile, he vows to stay true to his conviction and lead Gridania to a better future. At twenty-two years of age, he still thinks himself inexperienced, despite the accolades that he is fast accumulating on his mantelpiece. He is in a long-term relationship with Guydelot.

Guydelot Thildonnet: A talented, wilful Wildwood bard who was infamous for his truancy and recalcitrance towards any kind of authority. In recent times he's seen a marked improvement in his attendance, and one might even say he's turned a new leaf into the straight and narrow, all under the stern command of Captain Sanson Smyth; a feat backed by the medal tally that the man cared little about. What most people do not know, however, is that the twenty-four year old bard owes this change to his genuine interest and commitment to this unit... and to Sanson himself.

Karinae Béringer: Sanson's second in command ever since he was made Captain, Karinae is a skilled Duskwight lancer who's ready to defend her friends and comrades at any moment's notice, no matter when or where. Usually you would find the twenty-three year old in the Druthers, hustling free drinks out of any poor souls with her captivating charm—except for Dietrich.

Perinnault Deschamps: A novice bard with brilliant aim and a keen sense of tempo who joined Sanson's unit before the liberation of Ala Mhigo. At twenty and one summers, the Wildwood Elezen is eager to learn everything there is about being a bard, and is improving markedly with every mission that he undertakes.

Dietrich Eltz: Despite his splendid marksmanship, the twenty year old Midlander is a sensitive soul who is prone to crying at the drop of a hat when overwhelmed. His voice had been likened to the sweetness of a spring bloom, and his good looks had won him the admiration of many; yet all he wants is to learn how to become confident in his own skill, and to be admired by the merit of his battlesongs.

Minh'to Zhwan: A twenty-three year old Keeper of the Moon lancer who was temporarily assigned to Sanson's unit just after the Ballad of Oblivion quest, Minh'to gained the utmost respect for the Captain after they survived and routed an Ixali skirmish. He asked to be transferred permanently and is now thriving under Sanson's leadership, which allows him to learn a myriad of combat skills from their joint Alliance training. He is fiercely protective of his twin sister.

Aemi Zhwan: Stuck in a rut at her previous unit with no pathway to improvement, the twenty-three year old Keeper of the Moon conjurer eventually asked for a transfer to Sanson's unit at the insistence of her twin brother just before Ghimlyt. After surviving the bloody battle, she vowed to support her newly-found comrades in any way she could, having been awed by Guydelot's prowess in the field. She was a sickly child growing up, and Minh'to stepped in to be her protector.

Dya Nakhiri: A studious conjurer, the twenty-four year old Highlander can often be found sequestering themselves in the corner of the Nest, surrounded by books on conjury and battle tactics. When the bards joined Sanson's unit, suddenly their horizon was expanded and now they are deep into research on how to better align the bards' songs with the conjurers' healing spells. Despite their stern countenance, Dya is quietly warm and welcoming once you endear yourself to them.

Supporting casts:

Haurchefant Greystone: Stolen away by accident to the First at the moment of his death by Crystal Exarch, Haurchefant had been living and training there for nigh ten years, all to better support Fjora when she finally comes to save them all. After a harrowing reunion, they decided to rekindle their relationship, though the plan went awry when Haurchefant became tempered by Fjora's absorbed Light. After an intervention by Hydaelyn before she departs, his soul becomes stable enough to be housed in a Hannish simulacrum, crafted personally as a gift for the Warrior of Light. He now travels with her and Cora, ever ready to defend his friends and family once more. Counting his time in the First, he is now thirty and eight summers old.

Vorsaile Heuloix: The High Commander of the Twin Adders is no stranger to challenging authority, a trait that had served him well during his mercenary days. Ever since the affair with Gylbarde's Journal, the thirty-five year old Wildwood had taken a shine to Sanson and his upstanding integrity and despite not being his direct superior, he's been mentoring the Captain to be his protégé—in defiance to every Adders protocol that keeps him employed. He still grimaces when people affectionately calls him 'Vorsie' though he might be warming up to the nickname at the slowest of snail's pace.

#aaaaand done #thank you all for indulging me this year #next year I will become more unbearable #happy starlight!#oc: fjora swiftmane #oc: corentin arceneaux #haurchefant greystone #vorsaile heuloix #sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #oc: the Adders bard unit #haurchewol #guydesan #bard boys #ffxiv #ffxiv gpose #my gposes

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sezja · 1 year

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Febuwhump Day 15: Self-Sacrifice Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet Triggers/Content warnings: n/a

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

He's pacing again; he can't help it. The movement helps persuade his restless, anxious mind that he is doing something.

"...And it- it's a mad plan, I know, but if we wait for the Order to act, it will be too late," he concludes, biting his tongue on the words, It may already be too late, as it is. Things are dire enough without compounding pessimism into the bargain; the thought that he waited three days before stopping to wonder if perhaps Guydelot might be in danger! Three days, wasted, thinking only the worst of Guydelot himself, and all the while-

Matron, let him live long enough to be insulted by it.

His tale - and his plan - winds to a close, and he turns once more to face his mentor, filled with trepidation. If he has misjudged Vorsaile, if he has shown his hand to the wrong man... well, all of his worst fears will be realized, won't they? At best, the Commander will strengthen the guard on Nourval's cell, and leave Sanson to find another plan altogether. At worst... at worst, Guydelot's fate is sealed.

At the moment, Vorsaile Heuloix's expression is unreadable. It isn't the first time Sanson's called upon the Commander at his home, rather than his office, but it is the first time it's been for so urgent a reason. 'Tis more than strange to see the man in casual clothing - but that merely underscores the strangeness of the entire situation.

"And you believe the girl?" Vorsaile asks at last, curious. "And Nourval, at that? Might they have conspired to weave a tale compelling enough to persuade even you to break him free?"

Sanson shakes his head. "By the guard's own words, sir, she's been denied the opportunity to visit him. If they did indeed plan this, it must needs have been planned before his arrest, and that beggars belief. And then there is..." He pauses, steadies his voice. "...There is Guydelot's disappearance. I know," he says, interrupting when Vorsaile would have spoken. "I know his history, Commander, but with all due respect: he hasn't been that way with me."

"There are those who'd say he's simply taken his time about it," Vorsaile points out, sounding vaguely amused... but then he adds, "But as it happens, I agree with you, Captain. He's thrived under your command; I see no reason for him to flee now."

Some indescribable emotion tightens Sanson's throat; he can only nod.

Vorsaile watches with sympathy in his eyes - or perhaps pity. "This plan of yours... the risks are endless. Surely it would be fastest - safest, to mobilize the Order? If what your young informant says is true, this man poses a threat to the safety of the Twelveswood as a whole, and that makes it a matter to bring before the Seedseers."

"And how long would that take?" Sanson can't help the way his voice pitches, cracking with emotion. "How long to bring the matter before the Seedseers, how long to convince both them and the brass that the matter is dire enough to warrant immediate action, and how long to mobilize them? And in what numbers? If this Astarnaix realizes an army is marching in his direction, how long do you suppose Guydelot will survive?" Not long at all, he knows; Astarnaix is cut from the same cloth Nourval once was.

But then, the Twin Adder's goal won't be to save Guydelot at all, will it? They'll care only for Astarnaix and the threat he poses. Collateral damage is negligible. What is the life of one bard, they'll reason, in exchange for the certainty that the threat Astarnaix poses may be neutralized forever?

It's a question Sanson finds all too familiar.

He shudders, forcing aside the memories of his own captivity; at least Nourval had not intended to kill him.

"I can't entrust this to the Order," he concludes, firmly. "Sir, I would not involve you, were it not at greatest need."

Now he is certain it's pity in the Commander's eyes. "Even should you succeed in rescuing Guydelot, you know you'll likely face consequences for this - you may be discharged from the Order altogether, if not arrested, yourself. Is this risk worth the loss of everything you've worked for all this time?"

Is it worth losing everything-

Sanson swallows hard, making himself look the man directly in the eye. "Sir. Guydelot was once prepared to risk everything he had and more to come to my aid, though it would have cost him his life. It was through your aid alone that it didn't come to that, but I know - and you know - he'd have come for me, to rescue me, at any cost. He was prepared to stake everything he had, everything he was, on the chance that it might be enough to save my life. How can I-"

His voice catches.

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Steadies himself.

"How... how can I claim to love him, and do otherwise?"

Behind his closed eyelids, Sanson hears Vorsaile heave a heavy sigh. "Very well, then," the Commander says, equal parts resigned and amused. "I'll offer you what help I may... even if it is only my height." Sanson opens his eyes at last, surprised to find the other man smiling. "I hope," Vorsaile adds, "You have some plan to get the fellow's cell unlocked?"

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #my writing #febuwhump #febuwhumpday15 #febuwhump2023 #we love vorsaile heuloix in this household

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ffxivxd · 6 months

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Vorsaile Heuloix is an Elezen of Ishgard and acts as the officer charged to lead the Wood Wailers. When he turned 20, he left Gridania to seek his fortune and earned his fame through notable deeds. As his name grew, he found employment in Ishgard under House Fortemps.

#ff14 #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivxd #final fantasy 14

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porta-decumana · 1 year

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Kaida Asagiri - 2.0

After the Calamity, Kaida fully embraced her role at the Conjurer’s Guild. As an expert in the element of water, she was often sent to quell disturbances related to the Shroud’s various rivers and lakes.

She joined the Order of the Twin Adders at the of High Commander Vorsaile Heuloix, who was desperate for more healers in his ranks after the Calamity. Kaida rose to the rank of Serpeant Sergeant Third Class. Her tasks were relatively in line with her work in the Conjurer’s Guild and consisted of the occasional voidsent or pest extermination mission. She always kept an eye out for her old prey Odokuro but he never appeared.

One day, she was sent to investigate a strange disturbance in the Shroud and that was when she stumbled upon Papalymo and Yda near Lifemend Stump.

The rest is history.

#kaida asagiri #raen #au ra #a realm reborn #gridania

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avirael · 9 months

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FFxivWrite 2023

Day 16 - Jerk

"Ah Rael! It’s good to see you return safely.", the Serpent Commander Vorsaile Heuloix said. "What brings you to me today?"

To A'viloh’s surprise, Rael put on a polite smile. He had already wondered if the Viera had a genetic defect that made them physically incapable of smiling but here it was! It was a pretty smile even, like everything about the Viera was undeniably pretty. It made A'viloh even more annoyed about the fact that all he ever got from them was a grumpy scowl although he really had tried to strike up a conversation on their way to Gridania.

"We are here on behalf of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. You requested their support because of a problem with the Ixal?", the Viera explained getting straight to business.

"Yes, it‘s more of a potential problem though. But tell me who is your friend? I‘ve never seen him around here before?", Vorsaile asked eying A'viloh.

"We are not frie-", A'viloh tried to correct but Rael was faster.

"This is A'viloh Tia, he also works for the Scions. He‘s a pugilist from Ul'dah and he‘s only been to Gridania… twice before?" Rael turned to A'viloh with a questioning expression on their face.

"Once.", A'viloh offered. "This is my second time here."

"See, so it’s no surprise you haven’t seen him before.", Rael said once again turned to the Serpent Commander and smiling amiably.

"Alright. Well, if he‘s with you, that’s enough reason for me to trust him.", Vorsaile said and then went on to explain the task he had for them.

There had been an increasing number of thefts in the North Shroud and the Order of the Twin Adder feared that the Ixal might be responsible. Rael and A'viloh were supposed to investigate the area and ask around for more information.

As they left the Adders Nest A'viloh asked mit furrowed brow: "Why did he eye me like this?"

"Don’t think too much of it.", the Viera explained. "The people in Gridania are a naturally distrustful lot. But once you get to know them, they are actually very nice. It’s nothing personal…"

"Nothing personal, huh?", A'viloh repeated but kind of doubted it.

The two of them spent the whole morning patrolling through the South Shroud, talking with the guards and keeping an eye out for Ixal but without much result.

At noon they decided to take a break in Hyrstmill and eat lunch. Afterwards they talked to the villagers about their task when a girl approached them. She explained that she had heard why they were here and asked them for help with a problem that might have to do with their task.

She then explained that lately she received several anonymous gifts, some of them pretty expensive, along with an invitation. Furthermore she found out her secret admirer’s name and that he was a wanted thief.

"I doubt that we are talking about the same thief here. Our culprit is after a little more practical things than jewels and silks…", A'viloh wondered out loud.

"But of course we are going to help you anyway. It‘s not like we would leave a helpless girl alone to deal with her stalker all on her own, right A‘viloh?", Rael quickly added and stared at the Miqo'te expectantly.

A'viloh blinked surprised. "Of course not! I wasn’t trying to suggest otherwise!"

So they let the girl explain the details and went out to the spot the thief had suggested for their meeting. There was nothing to see though, so they decided to split up and search the surroundings.

After a while Rael discovered something between the bushes that looked like an abandoned fireplace. They knelt down and examined the remains for clues when suddenly they felt a cold blade pressed to their throat.

"Hold still and I won’t harm you.", a voice said behind them. "Why are you here? Did the Adders send you to look for me?"

Rael defensively raised their arms. "Emeria send me."

"Don’t lie to me!", the voice growled angrily.

"I‘m not lying, I swear! She‘s scared of you and send me to talk to you on her behalf.", Rael explained.

"You’re a liar! She doesn’t have any reason to be scared of me!", the man yelled. "If you don’t tell me the truth right now, I‘m gonna cut your throat and leave you here for your Adder-friends to find!"

Rael hoped this was an empty threat and their mind raced to find a way to talk themself out of this when suddenly a heavy thud sounded behind him. The blade disappeared from their throat and the man collapsed beside them.

Confused the Viera turned around and saw A'viloh standing behind them with a heavy stick in his hands. "Are you okay?", he asked with a mixture of shock and worry on his face.

Rael ran a hand over their throat. "I think so. Thank you, A'viloh, honestly. I don’t know what I would have done without you."

"Oh, I‘m sure you would have come up with something.", the Miqo'te chuckled nervously and rubbed their neck. "What should we do with your new friend here?" With the branch in his hand he pointed at the unconscious man on the ground.

Rael thought for a second and then said: "I think it’s best if we tie him up and go tell the guards in Hyrstmill."

A'viloh nodded in agreement and so they tied up his hands and his feets in case he would wake up.

"What’s that?", A'viloh asked and gestured at something peeking from the man’s pocket. Rael bowed down and took it. "I think it’s a letter… and look! It’s addressed at Emeria."

They decided to take it back to Emeria, who already awaited their return. She was glad to see them safely return and then read the letter they presented her.

"If it wasn’t so creepy, I would almost call that love letter sweet…", A'viloh said and Emeria also seemed a little confused by the letter.

She asked them to bring her gifts to Miounne in Gridania, so she could return them to their respective owners. Rael and A'viloh talked to the guards and made their way back to the place where they had left the man but apart from his cut ties there was no trace left of him. The guards decided to search for clues and Rael and A'viloh traveled on towards Gridania.

Back at the Carline Canopy Miounne was surprised to hear their tale. She promised to return the stolen goods to their owners and explained to them the truth about Emeria and her admirer. In reality the man was her older brother, who as a boy had started stealing things to make his sister happy, and was therefore disowned by their parents. Miounne thanked them for their kind help and invited them to dinner to thank them.

"What a sad story…", Rael said as they sat down to eat.

A'viloh sighed and agreed. "I wish we could have done more for them…"

For a moment they silently ate, before Rael cleared their throat. "Thank you once again, A'viloh. I think I need to apologize to you. Without your help this could have ended very differently. I behaved rudely to you and thought you were an idiot, but I was horribly wrong. I‘m sorry."

For a moment A'viloh just speechlessly stared at them, then he laughed. "Ah, don’t worry! You are also a lot nicer than I expected. If it makes you feel any better, I was convinced that you‘re a heartless, mean jerk!"

Then both of them laughed and proceeded to have a nice evening at the Carline Canopy. The Ixal would have to wait for another day…

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #ffxiv writing #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #ARR #Aviloh Tia #Rael Hyskaris #I was a little uncreative today…#almost couldn’t get this finished…#ffxiv scenery

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yloiseconeillants · 2 years

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I finally hit BRD 70 and I am doing the level 70 BRD quest and I am going to kiss Serpent Commander Vorsaile Heuloix on the mouth

#i cheered lmao #immediate downer: he wants me to talk to ywain

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weatheredpileoftomes · 2 years

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orders

For FFxivWrite2022 Day 12, “miss the boat”. Frydlona, early post-Stormblood, ~550 words. Bard jobquest spoilers through 70; mention of canon-typical racism.

Farewell, Gridania.

“Lieutenant Merlgeimwyn, won’t you reconsider? Our command will take your loss most poorly.” Vorsaile Heuloix looks almost more alarmed than Frydlona has ever seen him. It isn’t helping his case. If the Order of the Twin Adder had wanted her to stay, they should have thought about it, oh, two days sooner.

Frydlona had stopped believing in the goodness of Gridanians not long after she arrived, seeing—and hearing—what Leih had to live with. The other Keepers of the Moon, too, and such Duskwights as entered the city. It had been ugly, shocking in a place as green and peaceful as Gridania, but in the end…which of the cities didn’t have such ugliness?

She had stopped believing in the goodness of Gridania when Kan-E-Senna turned and walked out of Nanamo’s banquet hall, leaving Frydlona kneeling, chained, in a pool of Raubahn’s blood.

And yet—she had lived here, and it had been beautiful. It still is beautiful, a brighter and more vibrant green than any emerald. She had had to be a member of a Grand Company, and the Order of the Twin Adder oversaw her home.

They’d never given her an order she couldn’t live with. She’d never even heard about them giving orders she wouldn’t have been able to live with, if they’d been made to her instead of someone else—not to say those orders were never made, but if they were they were secret, kept from her. To be sure, the individual members are no better than other Gridanians, but they’re also no worse that Frydlona has been able to tell. They’re people, all in all.

Their highest-ranking officers telling her to leave Sanson to die? That order coming from so high up that it couldn’t be appealed, only snuck around?

Nourval’s plan had been a cruel one, and she agrees they shouldn’t have gone along with it, but Sanson Smyth deserved better than to be a sacrifice to principle. He would have deserved better in any case, but his own commanders deciding that he could die, as the easiest way of easing tensions between Gridania and Ala Mhigo… Her mother would never have stood for it.

“The Flame General has told me he would like my transfer, sir,” Frydlona says politely to Heuloix. “I served under him while we fought to liberate Ala Mhigo, and he would like the sultana to have a few more reliable people in the Flames to call on at need.”

Technically, it’s all true. She’d been glad to work with Raubahn during the final push across Gyr Abania—she’d liked him already, and during the war she’d learned he was a good commander as well. She’s more sure of him than of Heuloix: she doesn’t think he would ever give her an order she needed to refuse.

Which is why she’d asked him, as soon as Sanson was back safe and her report was made, if he would accept her transfer.

Heuloix sighs. “Well. I suppose he does outrank me. Very well then, Lieutenant. Matron ward your steps.”

Frydlona salutes him—the crossed-arm nod of the Twin Adder, for the last time—and turns and walks away.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2022 #my fic #my fic: frydlona #my fic: frydlona: gen #my fic: 3.x #frydlona merlgeimwyn

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 50, MSQ 34 - The Lord of Crags (Unlocked)

I returned to Costa del Sol to speak with Y'shtola and Wheiskaet. The former saw my crafted robes and said nothing. The latter saw I had completed his trials by errand and congradulated me. It turns out that Y'shtola and I were the honored guests that Gegeruju was expecting for a grand banquet.

Normally impatient, Y'shtola gave a moment of respite and encouraged me to join the feast with all that I could bring. Though no one said the reason why out loud, I understood that not only did everyone already know that I was determined to face Ifrit one way or the other, but the sober remaining Company of Heroes understood that I was not promised to survive the encounter.

This wasn't a going away feast for the soon-to-be-triumphant hero. This was a living wake for the hero-that-would-not-return.

After the austerity of Stillglade Fane that I trained in, and the echoes of the fallen extravagance of Haukee Manor still chewing on my memory, it was with some difficulty that I was able to allow myself to engage fully with the feast. However, once I brought my full attention to bear, I understood why the Culinarian Guild has such a severe reputation. Is it truly possible to glimpse the true form of reality by partaking in gustatory delights made from rare and unique ingredients? For a moment, it felt as if it were true.

But like all moments do, the feast ended and there remained only an empty plate, a full stomach, and a deep dread as Y'shtola and I locked eyes and knew what else we had to do. Reaching the kobold aetheryte was simple work for the Maelstrom guard, Y'shtola, and myself. After some consideration, she activated the aetheryte and located a possible destination deep within O'Ghomoro. We retreated back to Camp Bronze Lake where she sent a missive requesting assistance from either the Adventurer's Guild or the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Only now does she look at what I am wearing.

"So it seems you have received more than just the well-wishes of your peers and associates. I see you have received the attention of a skilled crafter. Yes, this does better suit your improved ability to channel aether into mana, but keep in mind that there will be many situations where despite the advantages such gear can cloak you with, the very environment itself will limit what you are able to do with the aether you are able to draw upon. Do not become so dependent on the advanced skills that you have learned, that you forget your training and the abilities you first learned when you set out."

"Having said that, it appears that despite the urgency of my call, that there will not be others soon available to help us confront Ifrit. As much as you have progressed, you are not yet able to confront such a primal on your own. I will not be able to assist you as I have to maintain vigil at the aetheryte so that you can return, or that I can send others to you. As such, Papalo, if you are eager to practice your skills so that they do not become faint, present yourself to your Grand Company, and see how you can be of help there."

Serpent Commander Vorsaile Heuloix was quick to remind me of my obligation to House Dzemael of Ishgard. I consulted with the quartermaster to determine of the omnicrafter's gift was sufficient to provide protection in the cave system. She was disappointed to see a member of the Order of the Twin Adder in "common adventuring slops", but did acquiesce that they were better than what I could obtain from her with grand company seals.

With how fast everything is happening, I chose to stop once again in the Carline Canopy with a serving of eel pie and a tankard of mild ale to record these happenings. As I write, I overhear some adventurers inquiring the Adventurer's Guild of available assignments. Y'shtola had already registered me for assistance with confront Ifrit. I had best conclude this entry and register for assistance with Dzemael Darkhold while there is still assistance to be had either way.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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kaerran · 2 years

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#27 Hail

[¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i was going for in a "hellooooo" hailing kinda thing but then they decided to be a dramatic jerk instead and didn't :V oh well. a continuation of #25/part 17 or whatever of time travel au]

While Thancred launches into an expansive retelling of Qahs'a's ability to wreak havoc on anyone's plans, the twins come over to sit with Qahs'a.

"I must admit, I don't know much about what was supposed to happen in Ul'dah, but you seem to have managed nearly the opposite of what I did know," Alphinaud murmurs, trying to keep his voice down enough so Ascilia won't hear them.

"I really didn't mean to," Qahs'a says wistfully.

"You absolutely did mean to," Alisaie grumbles.

"Well," he says. "I... I mean I couldn't have just left them, but the Echo..."

Both twins stare at him.

"The Echo what?" Alisaie asks, not keeping her voice down as much as she ought, and causing the various Circle of Knowing people to pause their discussion.

Qahs'a rubs his forehead. "I swear it's... confused? I've been, getting, you know, the usual," he waves a hand in lieu of a description of how the Echo actually drives his life, "but also... not? I get weird feeling... flashes of, I don't know... what.... should..." He trails off when he realizes he's being listened to by everyone.

Thancred crosses his arms. "You're vaguely aware of what might have happened had you not appeared so fortuitously."

Qahs'a winces and looks at the ground again, then shrugs one shoulder.

"The future is ever in motion," says a new voice. G'raha Tia is standing there, arms crossed, but it is clear he is leaning much more on his Exarch self than his younger one.

"And who might you be?" Y'shtola asks suspiciously.

"I am G'raha Tia, and at this point in time you would be able to find him living on the Isle of Val with the other Students of Baldesion," he says stiffly.

"So where have you been then?" Alisaie asks.

G'raha sighs, and crouches with their small group. "Mor Dhona. It is, unfortunately, much changed from that which we know. I daresay the Tower is out of our reach, but I fear it would not avail us even so."

"Why not?" demands Alisaie.

All G'raha says in response is, "I am intimately aware of the results with meddling in time."

[i go by the short timeline mostly so, funfacts, qahs'a and the twins are the same age as *consults my age tracker spreadsheet* luciane of the archer's guild, trachtoum of the fraudulent heroism, and vorsaile heuloix. but since none of those are particularly notable, i'll just say that cid, nero, and carvallain are a year older, and the people who are a year younger aaaare thancred, maybe yshtola, aymeric, estinien, jannequinard, severian, and leofard. and g'raha is physically the same age as niellefresne and novv the sahagin. he's also possibly the second oldest person here lol]

#ffxivwrite2022 #qahs'a jaab

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allycryz · 3 years

Photo

Achievement Unlocked: Serpentlady

Nerys Eluned, Second Serpent Lieutenant, Order of the Twin Adder

#nerys eluned #order of the twin adder #minako the chocobo #ffxiv #dragoon warrior of light #duskwight warrior of light #duskwight elezen #mother miounne #Vorsaile Heuloix #Gridania

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chrysalispen · 3 years

Text

i: absolution

i hope none of you thought i was starting with the cart scene ;;

AO3 link HERE, fic chapter below the cut.

====

The anguish of the earth absolves our eyes

Till beauty shines in all that we can see.

War is our scourge; yet war has made us wise,

And, fighting for our freedom, we are free.

---Siegfried Sassoon, 1886-1967

-----o-----

Old Gridania, 14th Sun, Fourth Astral Moon, Year 5 of the Seventh Umbral Era

It was a hot midsummer morning and the forest belonged to the cicadas. The dry and hollow whickering buzzed between the leaves, cutting through the oppressive wet weight of the air as if to assert the insects’ supremacy. From her perch upon the rough-hewn bench near the entrance to the Archers’ Guild, Aurelia Laskaris found that even remaining perfectly still was no respite. Not from the heat nor the weather, and certainly not the clouds of midges that seemed to swarm over everything and everyone. More than once, she had watched an Adder or a Wailer stroll past their cramped bench in the hastily repurposed waiting area while muttering curses and swatting at the clouds of insects so thick the air looked gray in places.

With a heavy and somewhat disconsolate sigh, she turned her attention back to the threadbare rug that lay upon the wooden planks a scant few ilms below her sandaled feet. Across the room, near the lectern by the door, she espied a strangely shaped brownish stain of unknowable origin- something that had at some point sunk deep into the fibers. The longer she sat with naught else to occupy her, the more it usurped her attention, until all she could do was stare at it and nibble on the end of the forelock she had twisted around her index finger.

“Are you really that nervous?” her minder’s voice murmured at her shoulder.

Keveh’to looked as bored and miserable as she felt. Dressed in his bright yellow Grand Company overcoat and matching uniform, the man who had been her minder and friend for nigh on five summers now watched her with a knowing light in his grey eyes. Like her, his face was dewy with a thin sheen of sweat, and his ears flickered every time one of the insects attempted to make a landing upon them.

“I’m only about to discover whether or not the Hearers deem me sufficiently reformed.” Aurelia’s gaze lingered upon the outline of that stain. Her brow itched with collected sweat, most maddeningly so about her third eye, but she didn’t dare lift the kerchief she wore. Not even to scratch. “My former enemies hold my very life in their hands. Naught about that could be nerve-wracking, surely.”

Was it blood? Wine? The Garlean couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was inexplicably vexing.

“You aren’t too nervous to be cheeky,” he said dryly, blocking the elbow she sent his way with a nimble swat of his palm. “Watch it! This coat is new.”

“What? One little jab to the ribs isn’t going to muss your uniform, Sergeant-”

“Lieutenant.”

“Right, Lieutenant Epocan now. My mistake.” He scoffed, but her attention was already back upon the stained rug. “...What if they change their minds?”

“About what?”

“You’ve got a perfectly good set of working ears, Keveh’to. Sentiment is turning strongly against-” The soft fall of golden waves upon her shoulders shifted side to side with the swivel of her chin as she tilted it towards one of the nearby guardsmen. “...against people like me.”

“I don’t take your meaning.”

“The hells you don’t.” Her voice dropped to a murmur, though her words were no less vehement for her discretion. “I’m sorry to sound so cross, but you know very well why I worry. What should become of me should they decide to send me packing back to the gaol?”

“They won’t,” he said, but she thought she detected enough uncertainty in the man’s voice that the butterflies in the pit of her belly began to flutter once more. “...Well, they’d be fools if they did.”

“That isn’t a comfort, you know.”

“And if you're that worried about appearances," he reached for the hand that hovered at her chin and tapped the back of her wrist, "walking into an arbitration chamber with a mouthful of your own hair isn't exactly what I would call a solid first impression.”

Scowling at the rebuke, she let out a soft and petulant huff but tugged the end of her forelock out from between her lips and settled her fidgeting hands back into her lap.

She wasn’t convinced, of course. Judges were as fallible as any other soul upon the star in her experience, and no less swayed by popular sentiment or personal grudge- although, she conceded in silence, it wasn’t as if she could control the outcome.

Logic wasn’t enough to assuage her concerns. Four years ago, when she had helped to save a small outlying settlement and dismantle an imperial cohort that had threatened it- that should have been the end of them. In truth, she and Keveh’to had both been lauded as heroes at the time. But four summers was more than enough time to forget, reports or not, and from the rumors Keveh’to had heard, the XIVth Imperial Legion looked to be steadily applying pressure against the still-fragile and rebuilding city-state.

It wasn’t just that. She’d overheard anxious whispers of her own in Hyrstmill. An ominous gloom settling back into Larkscall, the eastern edge of the Shroud that bordered Ala Mhigo. Machina and steel-clad imperial patrols spotted in an ailing and slow to recover Twelveswood. Wailers and adventurers alike, gone missing.

She cast another sidewise glance at the man by the door, but other than a vaguely disinterested nod in her direction he made no comment or gesture.

Hells, this interminable waiting. I’m going to go mad if I have to sit here for another-

“Conjurer Aurelia Laskaris and Lieutenant Keveh’to Epocan,” the bland voice from the desk startled her enough that she felt an unpleasant twist in her stomach. She sat suddenly ramrod straight, eyes wide. “The adjudicators will see you now.”

“It’s about bleeding time,” the Miqo’te muttered, tail smacking against the flat of the bench. He gave his charge a curious glance. “Are you alright?”

“Just a touch of nerves.” Posture ramrod straight, expression displaying a calm she most certainly did not feel, she set her pattened feet upon the rug and stood. “Do I look presentable?”

“...You look soaked in sweat and uncomfortable.”

“Reassuring,” Aurelia said testily, “thank you.”

Keveh’to shrugged. “Just like everyone else here.” He swept one arm towards the closed door, a grandiose gesture that fell somewhat flat. “Ladies first.”

For a moment she felt as unsteady on her feet as she had been that fateful day five years past, bedraggled and dirty and ill, limping alone into a rain-dampened keep for a tribunal to decide what should become of her. She exhaled, quickly wiping her sweaty palms against the hempen weave, and righted her posture once more. Keveh’to was correct, of course; surely this was naught save a formality. They’d either extend her sentence on the work program or they would shorten the leash, and she had only to find out which they had chosen.

And at least this time she wouldn’t be alone.

Squaring her shoulders, she made her way through the door and past the open training area, up a brief staircase, and into the short hallway. The two masked men bracing the door stared at the approaching duo, their lips set in a bland and unreadable line. Other than a curt nod in the Keeper’s direction, the guards seemed to pay neither of them any particular mind. Keveh’to paused, shrugged, then lifted a fist to rap on the oak panels.

“Enter,” called a mild baritone voice.

The heavy doors swung open with a ponderous creak upon brass hinges, and the Keeper and his imperial charge crossed the threshold into a room that to Aurelia’s critical eye was clearly a repurposed private office. Three people sat at a long desk: one Hyuran woman in the ash half-mask of a Wood Wailer, two men, one of whom she recognized. His gaze caught hers, and he acknowledged her with a polite inclination of his angular chin.

“Mistress Laskaris,” Vorsaile Heuloix said, and if the man’s voice was not precisely warm, it lacked the painstaking effort at civility she remembered from her first journey to Gridania five years ago.

Aurelia allowed herself a small smile. “Commander Heuloix.”

“It has been some time. I trust you are well.”

Somewhere behind her she heard the door click shut. “As well as one might expect.”

“Excellent.” His lips quirked, and with that twitch of his mouth his sharp features softened somewhat. “Let it be known that the Grand Company appreciates your timely response to this summons. I surmise we also have the Lieutenant to thank for that.”

“She was in Hyrstmill on behalf of the Conjurers’ Guild,” Keveh’to spoke up at her side, smiling wryly, “so it took a fair bit of time, but yes.”

“Well, we’re all present now.” Vorsaile gestured to the two masked strangers. "Swethyna Brookstone and Lewin Hunte. The commanders of the Wood Wailers and the Gods’ Quiver, two divisions of Gridania’s defense force, whom I have asked to be present today.”

Aurelia nodded to each in their turn, but her brow remained furrowed. “If I might beg your pardon, Commander, I admit to some curiosity as to why there is not a representative of the Council of Hearers present. Will they not also be needed to preside over this hearing? I was given to understand that theirs is the final say.”

Behind the table, the three exchanged meaningful glances. Vorsaile shook his head.

“I’m afraid that either you or Lieutenant Epocan have misunderstood,” he said. “This is not a hearing. The Council and the Elder Seedseer have already made a decision regarding your case- or rather, the Elder Seedseer has exercised her authority to do so.”

Her heart took a sudden and sickening drop into her stomach. Keveh’to seemed to sense her distress; his hand pressed into the center of her spine, whether to keep her upright or keep her from bolting out of the room it was unclear. She found herself feeling suddenly quite appreciative of his presence in either case.

“Well,” she swallowed with difficulty past the tight sensation in her throat, “one hopes that you would not keep a lady in suspense. Go on.”

The commander of the Yellow Serpents did not frown or glare or smile, only inclined his chin gravely. “I quite agree,” he said. “Swethyna, may I have the papers, please?”

Papers?

Lips still set in that neutral line, the masked woman flipped through a sheaf of documents on the table’s varnished surface until she found what she sought, plucked them from the stack, and passed them to the Elezen. He reached for the inkpot at his left elbow with one hand, collected the papers with the other, and placed them on the far side facing Aurelia and her minder.

“Mistress Laskaris,” Vorsaile Heuloix said, “after careful review of the particulars - including your actions while a novice of the Conjurers’ Guild assigned to the village of Willowsbend - it is the consensus that you have proven yourself a friend and ally to the people of the Twelveswood. Furthermore, you have comported yourself in a manner befitting the realm’s most stalwart defenders. It is remarkable enough to witness such conduct from any one individual, let alone a woman who once served under the White Raven's banner. You have the thanks of the Grand Company and the Council of Hearers alike, and of course Kan-E-Senna herself.”

“I… thank you.” It felt utterly inadequate but it was all the response she could manage, unsure as she was what this speech presaged. “I did only what anyone else would have done.”

“I beg to differ- but that is beside the point.” Vorsaile cleared his throat and reached for a small box that sat on the lip of the table. “The Elder Seedseer wished to offer you a place in the ranks of her honor guard, but the Council of Hearers made it clear they would not countenance your appointment to such a sensitive position.”

That did not surprise her. Gridanians were a hidebound people, more so even than her own countrymen, and she had seen over the years how people like Keveh’to were shoved to the fringes of their society. If they wouldn’t trust a Keeper of the Moon even when he wore the colors of their Grand Company, she knew there was precious little chance they would extend that trust to her.

“However,” he continued, “there are conditions to which they have agreed- which brings us to the reason for your summons today. In light of your valorous and compassionate actions in defense of the realm and its people, the Eorzean Alliance and its Grand Companies have decided to grant you a full pardon, and consider your time served.”

Aurelia faltered, staring at the assembled commanders in open astonishment. She was… she wasn’t going to a gaol? Or being reassigned?

“As such,” the small wooden box opened with a click; within it lay a small, plain brass signet ring engraved with a pair of serpents twined about a staff, “it is hereby decreed that you are to be created a citizen of the city-state of Gridania, with all rights and privileges included therein.”

She couldn’t speak. Her eyes stung. It’s sweat, she told herself. Bloody stifling in here.

“Aurelia,” Keveh’to had drawn alongside her while she stood frozen in place. The Keeper’s tail wrapped carefully around her leg, twitching with a slow and soothing rhythm against her knee. “You’re looking unwell. Are you all right?”

“I’m… no. No, I’m- I’m fine. Better than fine, in fact.” Her lips twitched in a semblance of a smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful; it’s simply that this wasn’t what I had expected to hear today. It’s a bit of a shock, I suppose.”

“A good shock, one would hope.”

The commander of the Grand Company interrupted their hushed conversation with a soft hum to clear his throat, then gestured to the inkpot with polite emphasis. “For our city’s records,” Vorsaile said, “we must ask that you append your signature to your citizenship papers. If you would, please…”

“Oh,” she said. “Yes, of course.”

She took the quill in hand, musing as she skimmed the text, the tip hovering at the edge of the inkpot. Five years ago she had been in just such a position- only then it was to formally cast aside her title, defecting from the Garlean Empire under terms of unconditional surrender as a prisoner of the Eorzean Alliance. She would never again be Aurelia jen Laskaris, VIIth Imperial Legion medicus. The vagaries of time and circumstance had forever placed her past beyond any tangible reach.

She was Aurelia Laskaris now, initiate of the Conjurers' Guild and - as of today - a citizen of Gridania. An Eorzean.

Forcing herself back to some semblance of composure, she bent over the documents. The quill scratch and the crispness of turning pages were the only sounds in the room other than the ticking of the wall chronometer. Her vision was so blurred she could barely see the writing on the paper, the loops and arcane curves of her own Eorzean script, but in moments it was done and she was setting the quill neatly back in its pot.

Vorsaile scattered salt across the wet ink, tapped them onto a small groove in his desk, then folded the paper and pressed a nub of half-melted wax against the seam. All of this, followed with the press of a heavy-looking brass seal, and the deed was done.

Aurelia was free.

“Thank you, Mistress Laskaris. That will be all.” Vorsaile held out the ring box. Aurelia took it and stared at its contents for a long moment, feeling strangely numb. “If you have any questions…”

“I have one,” Keveh’to said wryly. “What’s with the ring?”

“Hm? Ah… well. That signet ring is one normally granted to Serpentbearers upon their initiation into the guard - a small act of defiance on the Elder Seedseer's part, one suspects. In any case, it is a tangible reminder that your service has been recognized.”

She traced the engraving on the ring’s surface with one fingertip. Its brass curve gleamed in the late morning sunlight slanting through the nearby window.

“She asked me to inform you that this bauble is not entirely ceremonial. There is a small enchantment upon it which enhances the wearer’s focus in combat- should such a boon be needful.” Vorsaile paused for a beat; at that moment, his polite smile became something closer to a sly grin. “...That said, this is not to be considered tacit permission for you to go about picking fights with imperial soldiers. Even if you do catch them starting forest fires.”

“I shall endeavor to be on my very best behavior, Commander Heuloix. You have my word,” a small laugh escaped her lips. The sound of it brought back a semblance of equilibrium; she felt her nerves begin to calm. “Please give the Elder Seedseer my regards. I owe her a great deal.”

“She would no doubt return the sentiment.” Vorsaile reached forth a hand. “Allow me to offer my congratulations, Mistress Laskaris.”

She took it in bemused silence, unaware of Keveh’to’s eyes upon her.

~*~

“You don’t seem well pleased,” he said. It was the first either of them had spoken on the short walk back to the Canopy. Aurelia kept fidgeting with the writ she had signed, opening the broken wax seal on the parchment and reading its contents with a deep frown knitting her brow, as if she still couldn’t quite believe what had transpired.

“I am,” she insisted, somewhat weakly. “Very much so.”

“Most people in your position would be overjoyed. A full pardon- and citizenship? There are people who have been here twice as long that haven’t enjoyed such favor.”

“Some would think it ill-deserved.”

“Does it matter what other people think?”

“It might, if they feel preferential treatment is being shown to an imperial-”

“Former imperial.”

“It all seems rather too simple.”

“Mayhap. But sometimes matters really are that simple.” The Miqo’te shrugged. A small throng of giggling children sprinted past them on their way to the amphitheater, shouting at each other. Engrossed in some manner of diversion they had spun between themselves, no doubt. Perhaps it was also a sign of the changing times that they paid the Keeper of the Moon and his companion no notice whatsoever. “Seems to me you’re overthinking things. As usual.”

Aurelia dabbed her sleeve against her damp face and said nothing. Keveh’to didn’t understand what she was getting at, and she didn’t feel the wherewithal for another argument-- but his gaze upon her was equal parts sympathetic and concerned.

“All right, spit it out,” he said. “What’s really bothering you? It isn’t actually what happened in there, is it?”

“What? No, it’s-”

“Well, what then?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if this is really where I want to stay,” she said. “And citizenship makes me feel… I don’t know. Bound to the land, somehow.”

“What? Why? People come and go from Gridania all the time.”

She offered no reply save a helpless shrug.

They were passing the rebuilt aetheryte plaza. In the space of those five short years after the disaster which Eorzeans now called the Calamity, it had become a bustling and lively place. The throng milling about the glowing crystal included townspeople and merchants as well as the much rougher-looking adventurers in their motley collection of gear. Just as with the children, few even glanced at Aurelia as she and Keveh’to crossed the shallow bridge in the direction of the Carline Canopy. It had been a long time since she had felt like a local curiosity, for which she was silently grateful.

She paused upon the slope and its moss and stone path leading to the inn’s entrance, looking out over the placid and glassy surface of the river. The great waterwheel creaked in its slow and unhurried way upon each turn, and on the far bank, the warm wind rustled the leaves of young saplings.

“I don’t understand why you think leaving the Empire means all your plans have to change.” Keveh’to shrugged. “You can still be a chirurgeon in Eorzea, you know.”

“I know.”

“If anything, there’s more of a need for people with healing skills now than before. ‘Sides, you’ve got that kit of yours, don’t you? The big one with all the tools and such?”

“Many of the medicines in it cannot be replenished. I would need tools and reagents that simply don’t exist outside the Empire.” At his grimace, she added, “I think given time and closer study I could duplicate certain of them, but Eorzean methods of alchemy are quite different from ours. I suspect that in order to do what needs must, I would need to become quite proficient indeed, and I’ve not the first inkling where to start.”

“It can’t be that different.”

“You’d be surprised. I would explain it but we’d be here the rest of the day.”

“And I’d not understand the first bleeding thing about it even if you did.” His lips split into a wide grin. “Nor care, I’m afraid.”

Aurelia scoffed. “At least you’re honest.”

“Just saving you the trouble. Anyroad, you don’t have to make a decision now, do you?” He began to descend the gentle slope of the hill towards the Canopy, ears forward and tail twitching. “Sleep on it. Take some of Miounne's jobs while you give it some thought.”

The conversation ended as they reached the stone-laden path and passed through the ornately carved doors to the Carline Canopy’s main entrance. Aurelia paused mid-step to linger upon the threshold, her gaze sweeping across the restored common room. The stairwell entrance to the recently rebuilt airship dock was now open, and nearly every table in the establishment seated bustling throngs of adventurers, merchants, and other assorted travelers. The buzz of their conversation filled the room with a low hum, broken with the occasional shout or guffaw from one party or another.

"Assuming Miounne has any work available," she chuckled. Some few of the hopeful newcomers had formed a queue that appeared to be growing by the moment. Even from this short distance, she could see the bright flash of leve cards clasped in gloved and gauntleted hands. “I haven’t seen the Adventurers’ Guild this busy in ages.”

“Aye, not since the Twin Adder opened recruitment five years ago. Mostly new faces too; look at that. She must have her hands full.”

He was right, she realized, upon closer inspection. Most of the would-be adventurers were clearly new to the business, fresh-faced and quite young. There were a few hard-bitten veterans among the lot, but not as many as one might expect. “I wager that trend shall only continue. What with all the displacement from-- oh, she’s seen us,” Aurelia pointed at the hand waving from the desk. “Come with me and say hello?”

“Might as well,” he sighed with mock resignation. “She’s already seen me. There’s no escaping her.”

“Don’t be cheeky. Come on.”

She began to weave her way through the crowd with Keveh’to close behind. A handful of the adventurers watching from the queue glowered at the pair, clearly assuming they intended to jump the line, but Aurelia ignored the hostile stares and kept pushing her way past until the pair had reached the desk. Miounne’s smile was radiant at the sight of them, if rather fatigued.

“Aurelia! And Sergeant Epocan-”

“Lieutenant.”

“Yes, yes, of course! I remember now, Lieutenant. So sorry. My mind is in half a dozen places at the minute.” The Canopy’s proprietress made a vague motion with one hand. “I hate to be so abrupt, Aurelia, but I’ve been looking for you. E-Sumi-Yan asked me to send you on to the Fane - your ‘earliest convenience,’ he said.”

“Why? Is aught amiss?”

Miounne shook her head. “He didn’t elaborate. Shall I ring him and let him know you’ll be along?”

“Oh, no, please don’t trouble yourself,” she glanced at the growing line of visibly impatient adventurers, “Lieutenant Epocan can call him.”

The Miqo’te protested, “Wait, why am I - hey!”

She all but dragged him away from the counter and towards the concierge, out of earshot of most of the crowd. The man at the desk offered a polite and noncommittal smile as they passed and made for the staircase leading up to her room. Keveh’to was still bristling, his tail lashing the air.

“I’ll not be a moment,” she said. “We can go our separate ways at the plaza.”

“I’m not even your minder anymore, let alone your personal secretary,” he grumbled, even though he was already reaching for the small device clipped to his ear. “...Right, well. Just remember you owe me one.”

Aurelia flashed him a quick grin before she opened the door and slipped inside.

The small room was as austere as it had been when Miounne had first let it to her five years ago. She had not acquired much in the way of personal possessions since; there had hardly seemed a point while serving a sentence, after all. There was the field kit she had been allowed to keep along with its contents - what little remained now - and her own small traveling pack with its botany log and change of clothes and her mother’s locket. Next to this sat the small wand she had been gifted by the guild before setting off to Willowsbend. All that she truly owned in the world sat in this one small corner.

She reached into the pouch on her plain leather belt and drew forth the ring box and the neatly folded parchment: both symbols of the changes to come, for weal or woe. In the meantime, she thought, official proof of her new legal status was not something she felt it would be wise to risk losing. The papers she tucked securely into her botany book before replacing it, pulling the drawstring of her bag taut, and buckling the clasp again.

Once that was finished she opened the ring box and after a moment’s hesitation removed its contents. The brass winked at her from the center of her half-open palm. It was not the sort of thing she would have normally worn, and it was a touch too wide for her ring finger. She removed it to slip onto her index finger instead, and there it remained secure.

Satisfied with the fit, she set the box on the side table, grabbed her wand to hook onto her belt, and made for the door. The ring was warm and weighted on its perch. A reminder of the new start she had been granted.

A rap on the door: “Aurelia?”

“One moment!”

Her feelings were no less mixed than they had been before she had quit the Archer’s Guild an hour past, but they were also not something she had time to consider right now. After she had returned from the Fane, perhaps.

She made her way to the door. E-Sumi-Yan would be waiting.

#upon pale dawns #aurelia laskaris #keveh'to epocan #garlean warrior of light #a realm reborn #chapter 1: absolution

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