thehimeoflight

A side blog to compile my FFXIV Writing. Teruko Mogami on Faerie!

[himeadventures]

FFXIV Write 2018 Entry List

November was quite a month! I haven’t really done any creative writing in years, so I was not sure if I would be able to write much. Little did I know how deeply I would get into fleshing out my FFXIV character, Teruko Mogami. In any case, I didn’t complete nearly as many entries as I had hoped, as busy days and a few raid nights limited the time and attention I could give sometimes.

All those blank entries are really bothering me: some I actually have partially complete drafts for, while others I have good concepts for. Even though the daily writing challenge is complete, I’ll probably try to finish them all during December and update this document. 

1: Submerged (The Weight of Light)

2: Silenced (Until the End)

3: Adytum (A Daughter’s Pride)

4: Saving Time (The Girl who Leapt Through Time)

5: Show of Hands (An Eorzean Welcome)

6: [Free Day]

7: Serendipitous (The Line After the Last)

8: Crag (An Unfamiliar Home)

9: Dense

10: Coward (Extinguished)

11: [Free Day]

12: Accolade (A Daughter of Doma)

13: Results (Light Across the Land)

14: Validation (Unmasked)

15: Plateau

16: Bond (Gathering the Sprouts)

17: Without a Trace (The Wall)

18: Marked

19: Gelid

20: Two Birds with One Stone (The Ballad of Ganen)

21: Repast (On an Adventurer’s Dime)

22: [Free Day]

23: Alms

24: Undertone

25: [Free Day]

26: Not a Weapon

27: Fling

28: Echo

29: Dote

30: Close

[fey-illumination-deactivated202]

Reblog if you are an active FFXIV tumblr ♥️

Now that I’m more active on here again, I’m looking for more ffxiv-related blogs to follow- whether they be RP/screenshot/aesthetic blogs. So, please reblog if that’s you! Reblogging for your followers to see is also much appreciated.

[himeadventures]

On an Adventurer’s Dime (Prompt #21: Repast)

Hardly a few weeks into her new life as a wandering adventurer, Teruko Mogami had learned that there was much to appreciate. The freedom to travel as she pleased, the warm feeling that came after helping others solve their problems, and of course, the unending series of unfamiliar experiences to learn from. She would not dare dream of giving it up for anything, but such a life had a few glaring drawbacks.

Teruko quickly learned that on an adventurer’s dime, finding a decent meal was far more difficult than slaying any beast of the Twelveswood. She missed little of her life back home, but it hurt to admit that when her stomach grumbled, she longed for the hearty and varied meals prepared by the servants of the household.

Alas, that time was behind her. These days, she rarely could hope to reliably dine on more than hard bread, chicken eggs, and thin vegetable soups. If her odd tasks of clearing the woods of beasts or ferrying letters and goods led to an unexpected windfall, she could indulge on cuts of meat or a fruit tart. On the rare day that the stars aligned in Teruko’s favor, she would be rewarded for her hard work by a warm, home-cooked meal.

Today was not one of those days: in fact, it was better. After joining Gridania’s finest warriors to protect the sacred Guardian Tree, the city-state paid her a hefty sum of gil and offered a chance to act as an emissary of Gridania. Not long after that, Guildmaster Luciane had tossed her a sack of coin as a small “bonus” for building the good name of the Archer’s Guild. If she spent it wisely, and carefully, the money would last her for a whole month.

So naturally, she planned to use a sizable portion of her earnings to celebrate with a good meal. Overwhelmed by choice, Teruko asked one of her first friends in the Twelveswood, a wandering Keeper of the Moon conjurer who was far more familiar with the fare of the Twelveswood, for advice.

“Hey, Rana… when you want something memorable to eat, where do you go?”

The conjurer shrugged her shoulders. “To be honest, I’d usually just hunt and cook something for myself. But I do enjoy the occasional visit to this tavern in the middle of the Shroud… Buscarron’s Druthers.”

“Eh? A tavern? I didn’t take you for the sort to enjoy the cup!”

“It’s not that, really. They cook well over there, and they do a good job of making anyone feel welcome. And I mean anyone.”

The next day, Teruko followed her advice, and rented a chocobo to take her deep into the South Shroud.

//

Buscarron Stacks passed the newcomer the house menu, sizing her up with his one good eye. The bow and quiver strapped to her back and lack of uniform suggested she was one of the many adventurers flocking to the Twelveswood to make a fortune. Whoever she was, the short Midlander girl could not look any more out of place sitting between the Elezen Wood Wailer who did not even remove his gloves to eat his stew and the passed out Coeurlclaw with her white locks soaking up the contents of her bowl.

With a grin on her face, the archer girl brushed her shining dark hair behind her shoulders as she placed the menu down on the counter. “Excuse me, sir? I think I’m ready.”

“Yeah lass? What’ll it be?” The grizzled bartender scratched his chin,  realizing that he could not quite place the girl’s strange accent.

“An aldgoat steak, with a side of dried plums and a glass of honey wine, please.” She clasped her hands together. “Oh! And could you cook it rare?”

“Highland style, eh? Not a problem, lass.” Wherever she came from, she had expensive tastes.

//

When the rough-looking bartender brought her plate, Teruko gazed at it as if she had not eaten in days. With proper form, she began gingerly cutting small chunks out of the steak, salivating as the juices dripped out. She did not know how long it would be before she would be back to eating naught but stale bread, so she was going to savor this.

[himeadventures]

The Ballad of Ganen (Prompt #20: Two Birds with One Stone)

When the tireless eyes of the Doman shinobi saw Ilberd and his traitorous Crystal Braves march to the caves of Halatali, the remnants of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn moved quickly. The captive General Raubahn had been moved from his cell to whereabouts unknown, but Ilberd’s presence left no doubt that Raubahn was being dragged to his execution. And so, the Warriors of Light led the charge into the maze-like caverns, each second a precious resource.

It was hardly a few minutes before the situation spiraled out of control. The Braves had dug into a narrow uphill path, outnumbering the Scions two to one.

Leaping behind the cover of a nonfunctional trap, Pascal curses as a Brave’s spear nearly runs him through.  “How many of ya bastards are there?” He would like nothing more than to introduce his fists into each of the blue-uniformed backstabbers’ faces, but their disciplined line keeps him at bay.

A few paces away, Yugiri nimbly maneuvers around another Brave’s large shield, slashing his side with her dagger. The shinobi grimaces as she sees the wound knit closed, the blood hardly having time to spill. “The healer, silence the healer!”

The Scions’ healers, meanwhile, are intensely focused. Alphinaud summons barriers to deflect the arrows, while the Miqo’te conjurer Rana mends the cuts and scrapes that are quickly accumulating.

Teruko, the Scion archer, inhales as she retrieves another arrow from her quiver. Her friends’ desperation pushes her into deep trance, and she begins to sing.

//

Her voice echoes off the cavern walls, the ancient battle hymn flowing out. She reaches within her mind for the distantly familiar words of the Doman tongue, weaving the rhythm from her childhood memories.

“At the eastern bank, ten thousand bannermen trample the seeds, burn the fields...”

Several arrows cascade down around her. She does not blink as the magical barrier protecting her shatters like glass, the shards fading away. Gazing intently forward, she sees again her supposed allies in blue becoming enemies in Ul’dah. All her painful memories of that day become real again: the sting of a rope binding her hands, their heavy boots kicking her side, and Ilberd’s grip on her throat. Her song grows louder, more passionate.  

“...the soil is unforgiving; the One River remembers. Together, they trap the fiends...”

She nocks an arrow, and draws the string back. She aims first at the conjurer deep within the enemy’s ranks, before her gaze slowly drifts upwards. Her voice grows dominant and powerful, drowning out the clash of blades.

“...noble Lord Ganen raises his sword. The arrows of the Rijin fall alongside the rain...”

Teruko drains everything into her weapon: her emotions, her pain, and the image of Raubahn struggling to survive. The arrow glows a vivid red, the color of the flowers that guide the dead to the afterlife. The warm aether hums around her hands. With one graceful motion, she looses the arrow. It illuminates the cavern as it flies overhead, well above any of the Crystal Braves.

//

Losing his focus on the arcane geometric patterns etched into his spellbook, Alphinaud yells out. “S-she missed!”

Rana gasps as her eyes follow the aether-infused arrow. “No, she- wait, we need cover!” The conjurer thinks quickly, and presses her cane down to the ground. Using her last reserves of magical energy, she raises a wide pillar of earth between the Braves and her comrades.

The arrow breaks straight through the links of a rusty chain. A circular steel cage that once confined some immense ravenous beast, falls from the ceiling overhead. The bard’s voice fades away as the cage clashes against the ground, turning on its side, and begins violently rolling down the inclined path.

The fight reaches its crescendo as the cage carves a cacophonous path down the hill. The conjurer is crushed first, with the rest of the Crystal Braves joining him in his fate. The clanging of metal is joined by a choir of snapping bones and pained screams, their blue and white uniforms soaked red.

The Scions rush to huddle behind the stone pillar at the base of the incline. Metal twists and snaps around them as the cage breaks apart. They are battered and shocked, but they are unharmed. The path ahead is open.

After the chamber grows silent, Teruko’s voice grows soft as she finishes her hymn and lowers her bow.

“...in the realm of Ganen Rijin, ten thousand spider lilies bloom at the bank of the river.”

[himeadventures]

The Wall (Prompt #17: Without a Trace)

With a satisfied grin, Arenvald held his hands close to the campfire as it roared to life. Between the dry brush of Thanalan and the bounty of the Wellwick Wood, fuel was easy to come by. It had been a long time since he started a campfire using only what he could find in the field. If anything, it was a relief that he could put off explaining that he misplaced the party’s flint for one more day day.

As the largest log in the hastily-dug firepit started to crackle, Teruko, the squadron’s archer, joined Arenvald after setting up the tent. Carefully placing her bow to the side, she sat down on a smooth boulder.

Removing the heavy rectangular shield from his back, Arenvald adjusted the ring of stones he had set. “Our jobs are done, then. You think Pascal’s caught our meal for the night already?”

Teruko shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll just be happy if we don’t have to go out looking for him again. Although, don’t salmon gather in this river? Perhaps I will consider forgiving him for that little incident if he brings us salmon.” She began to chuckle to herself, only to fall silent after a triumphant shout rang out from the direction of the Yugr’am River.

“Oi, ya’ll talkin’ about me? Stop blabbin’ and get the grill over the fire!”

The Limsan strode up, his eyes beaming with the look of a triumphant general. “We’re eatin’ good tonight!” He raised his hand, revealing what he had caught on his hooks: two large black eels, writhing with the last of their strength in an attempt to escape their inevitable fate.

As Arenvald fetched the grill rack, Teruko stared at the eels, her eye twitching. “Pascal. What in the name of Hydaelyn are those?”

Pascal almost seemed offended as he prepared his skinning kit. “Eh? They’re Black Eels, Teruko. You can find ‘em all over the place. ‘Ere, look, they’re just like any other fish!” He brought the writing wavekin close to Teruko, who almost fell out of her seat recoiling away.

Teruko wanted nothing to do with the slimy, still-living river snakes. “Too close! Far too close!” She waved Pascal back. “And wait, aren’t eels poisonous?”

Pascal sneered, as if he was asked the stupidest question in the world. “Yer joking, right? Never tasted a warm eel pie? Besides, eels are only bad for yer gut if ‘ya can’t cook for your life.”

Shaking her head, Teruko made no attempt to hide her disgust as the Limsan fisherman moved to cleave the long-suffering creatures’ heads off. Her vision of fresh salmon fillets had disappeared completely from her mind.

Pascal may have acted a fool sometimes, but few would question his skill working with the bounty of the seas and rivers. With great efficiency, he put the creatures down and stripped away each morsel of flesh. Arenvald’s mouth watered as the eel smoked on the grill. At the other side of the fire, Teruko was taking small bites out of a roll of bread, only a smidge larger than her fist.

“Hey, Teruko,” Arenvald called out. “Weren’t you complainin’ about that bread bein’ the last of what you could afford for the mission?”

She nodded as she finished the last of her bread. “Mhm.”

“That can’t be nearly enough to walk on. You’ll have some of the eel, then?”

The archer shook her head. “I think I will pass tonight.”

Pascal scoffed as he flipped the thinner pieces on the grill. “Sorry Princess,” he said with a hint of mockery in his voice. “But this ain’t the Bismarck ‘ere! It’s eel or starve!”

Teruko glared daggers at Pascal. Pouting, she turned her head away and began her nightly ritual of brushing her long hair. “I just don’t want to eat it, okay?”

Arenvald, partly out of concern, joined in. “You can’t eat that soap you were talkin’ about back at Drybone, y’know.”

The two young men laughed together, as Teruko silently shot a cold stare in their direction. This wasn’t the first time that they had poked fun at her picky dining habits, but normally she just brushed them off.

Pascal waved his tongs towards her. “Hey, you’re an adventurer, right? How the ‘ell have you survived this long?” He was joking, of course, knowing full well about his friend’s talent with the bow. “Did you have a little butler followin’ ya in the Shroud, fixin’ up your favorite meal?”

Arenvald laughed again, although this time unsure if he should goad Pascal on. Teruko paused her brushing for a second, and hissed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

For better or worse, the Limsan kept going. “Ey, don’t be like that! When this is all over you can always head on back home where you can choose whatever ‘ya stuff your face with, right?”

Teruko’s comb clattered against the stones underfoot as she stood up with a jolt. Unleashing all of her quiet frustration, she screamed down at the wide-eyed fisherman. “No! I CAN’T GO HOME!”

A dead silence fell between the three adventurers, broken only by the crackle of the fire and Teruko’s pained breathing. She was frozen with her hand instinctively covering her mouth.

“...nevermind it. I’ll be in the tent.”

The flames flared brightly, roaring as Pascal pressed down on one of the slabs of eel. Flailing wide with his free hand, he began shouting back. “Eh, now you’re mad? How the ‘ell were we supposed to know that?”

Halfway through gathering her things, the archer turned around and stomped closer, the light of the flames flickering against her eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it? And if you ever used that head of yours, you would have understood that!”

Pascal stood up, waving his cooking tongs. “Hey, sorry, Princess, but I’m just sittin’ ere wonderin’ why you never tell your friends anythin’ about yourself. We are your friends, right?”

As the two Scions seemed ready to spit and claw at each other, strong hands gripped their shoulders, and pushed them apart. Arenvald was standing up now, in between the two older adventurers.

“That’s… that’s enough!” He turned first to Pascal, shaking head. “You can’t just… that was uncalled for, is all I’ll say. And Teruko,” he spoke softer, as he looked towards her. “Will you sit down for a bit? I’d like to say something.”

The archer sat back down silently, with her arms crossed. Pascal picked up his tongs, and began forcefully removing the eel.

Arenvald’s armor clanked as he settled back down. “So, I think you may have heard some of this before. But, uh..., Teruko… my name is Arenvald Lentinus.”

She blinked. “...I know that.”

He continued without a beat. “I was born in Ala Mhigo. My father… he was in the Garlean Army. I trust you know what I mean when I say that my Ala Mhigan mother did not welcome my arrival? In any case, she believed that a spot on my skin was an emerging third eye.” He placed his hand at the center of the cross-shaped war paint on his face. “It was not long after that she cast me out into the streets. I had to do things I wasn’t proud of to survive the streets.”

The two older scions were no longer staring wounds into each other’s eyes. Arenvald had their full attention.

“But eventually, I was able to join up with a group of refugees bound for the other side of the Wall. I took up adventuring, which led me to the Scions. And here, at this campfire.”

He turned to Teruko. “It’s always been hard for me to say any of that, so I can understand if you won’t do the same. But you are among friends.”

Silence ruled the camp again, until Teruko spoke with a shake in her voice.

“I… made the same journey. I lived in Ala Mhigo too. And before you ask, my family was relocated there from a different imperial province before I was born. Doma, if you know of it.”

Arenvald realized why Teruko’s strange accent had always seemed familiar. “...I can’t say I’ve heard more than the name.”

“There aren’t many similarities between us after that. My family cared for me, and we never wanted for food or coin. But in Ala Mhigo, all that means is that we were willing puppets of the Garleans.”

Pascal spoke up, his loud voice quelled into a more somber tone. “...so what got you to leave?”

“Minfilia told me that the Echo was a gift. But for five years, I thought it was a curse. It started after the Calamity… and my visions only showed me absolutely unspeakable things. Especially when I talked with the people I… wasn’t supposed to talk to. The poor Ala Mhigans, of course.”

She looked down, avoiding eye contact with the others. “And of course, when I told my parents, they called me insane. The only person who believed me was one of the Ala Mhigan maids, Astrid. And by my last years in the city, she was the only person I could call a friend.”

Her eyes began to well up. “One day, Astrid spilled tea on a Garlean guest. My grandfather… he.. he dragged her off and…” Teruko clenched one fist, and brought it down upon her open palm. “By the time I finally found my spine and cried for him to stop, her leg was broken. And when I tried to stop him, he beat me too.”

She rubbed a spot on her right arm. “I carried her back to her home in the Ala Mhigan quarter in the rain. It took me an hour. I remember losing my right shoe. When I reached her home, Astrid’s family treated me as one of their own. And they told me about her plan to flee the city. But because of us- er, my grandfather, Astrid would not be able to make the journey.”

Arenvald shook his head, Pascal was looking down now.

“And they told me how I could go under the wall myself. And now I’m here. As far as my family is concerned, I vanished into the wind. I’m never going back. I can’t, and I won’t.”

[himeadventures]

Gathering the Sprouts (Prompt #16: Bond)

The night breeze carried a soothing chill over Vesper Bay as the two of the Scions’ newest members crossed the port town’s central plaza. They had received a warm welcome at the Waking Sands, but the lengthy process of introductions had been exhausting, especially after their journey from far-off Gridania. And yet, there were still a few more names to learn: two other adventurer recruits had arrived earlier, and were currently patronizing the Pissed Peiste at the other end of town.

Stretching her arms as she walked, the dark-haired Midlander archer, seemed drained as she spoke. “Ah, do we really have to do this? I’d rather be wrapped in a warm inn bed right now.”

The other adventurer, a Keeper of the Moon in an indigo robe, yawned as her wooden cane met the green and white stone floor with gentle thumps. “As nice as that sounds, these two are supposed to be part of our squadron. It would be best to get to know the people that will be watching our backs, yes?”

“Maybe,” she grumbled. But breakfast is just as good a time for that.”

The Keeper only shrugged as they reached the oak door of the Pissed Peiste. The senior Scions had insisted that the bar would be relatively empty at this hour, so it would at least be easy to find their squadron mates. After the creaking oak doors of the bar were opened however, it was immediately clear that finding their two comrades would not be a problem.

In the corner of the cramped bar, the only two patrons with weapons on their person tightly gripped their mugs as they guzzled down the last drops of ale. The immense ceramic flagon at the center of their table clattered in place as one of the young men slammed their hands on the table. They had clearly been at it for a while.

The first, a young man with black hair, scar across his nose, and overpowering Limsan accent bellowed out triumphantly. “Six! That’s six of ‘em! Ya better get drinkin’ if you want ta keep up!”

More steadily, the tall young Highlander with blond hair and white paint across his face shook his head. “Hey, if I’m still standin’ when you’re heavin’ on the floor, I’ll take it as a win even if you’ve had one or two more. That’s five for me, by the way.”

The Highlander noticed the two figures at the door: a snickering Miqo’te with her palm on her forehead, and an archer with a piercing look in her eyes somewhere between shock and horror. He raised his free hand and waved them over. “Oh, you’re the two from Gridania right? Good to meet ya.”

The archer and the conjurer got settled at the table quickly. Not long after, the Limsan man stood up, swaying slightly, and offered his hand.“So we’re workin’ together? Name’s Pascal. Pascal Laurent! Pleasure to meet ‘ya!”

The Miqo’te smiled as she shook Pascal’s hand. “Rana Nhamera.”

Staring at the Limsan’s ale-soaked sleeve, the archer hesitated for a moment before shaking. “Teruko Mogami.”

The Highlander, in the middle of finishing another mug of ale, was the least to speak. Despite being several glasses in, the lad still had softness in his voice. “That’s six. Oh, and I’m Arenvald Lentinus. Look forward to fightin’ together.”

Certain that there was no way they were going to survive the night without drinks of their own, the newcomers took a brief detour to the bar. Teruko returned with a modest-sized bottle of apple wine. Even in their half-drunken stupors, both Pascal and Arenvald balked. It was a well-known variety imported from La Noscea, with a price tag to match.

As Pascal shifted his weight down on the table, his mug clinked against the pair of brass knuckles had had left strewn on the table. “You’re an adventurer, right? How the hell are ya payin’ for that?

Having a hint of a smile for the first time of the night, Teruko poured the nectar-like wine into her glass. “I’d say this is enough of a special occasion for something indulgent. Besides, after our last job in Gridania, Rana and I-”

As if on queue, the conjurer returned with her drink. The contents housed in a sealed earthen jar rather than a glass or bottle, the two boys looked at it curiously in between gulps of ale.

Arenvald hiccuped as he drew closer in curiosity. “Is that even alcohol?”

Teruko, meanwhile, was visibly inching her stool away from the jar. She hissed in alarm, “Rana, they had that? I can’t believe that of all things, you chose that vile brew!”

“They did. To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t tried it at all after your time in the Twelveswood.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Arenvald raised his mug. “Well, if this is a special occasion, why don’t we toast? And hope for many victories in the future!”

There were nods all around. With a clink, the four novice Scions raised their glasses and mugs and took a sip. Save for the conjurer, who had to raise her jar with both hands. All eyes were on her as she began to remove the cork.

Teruko braced herself as she uncorked the jar. “Vile” greatly understated the almighty stench of the Shroud’s infamous Mun-Tuy Brew, and the burning sewage-like odor almost caused the two men at the table to heave the contents of their stomachs.

The ears atop the Miqo’te’s head twitched as her tail jerked unnaturally straight as she took a swig of her drink. Mercifully, she resealed the jar before setting it down on the table. The entire time, the conjurer kept a straight face, evidently unfazed by the experience.

Pascal wheezed. “Blegh! If our healer can survive that shite, we don’t need to fear anythin’.”

[himeadventures]

Unmasked (Prompt #14: Validation)

[A continuation of one of my other entries: A Daughter’s Pride]

Having finally polished away the last traces of dried scalekin blood from her daggers, Yugiri Mistwalker had little on her mind but crawling inside her warm bedroll. Her routine trip from Mor Dhona to Limsa Lominsa had already been interrupted by several delays, from Garlean patrols to rampant mudpuppies. Thankfully, these were only small nuisances in the end, and she could claim acceptable progress for one day. Of course, it helped that she was joined once again by Teruko Mogami, one of the Scions’ famous “Warriors of Light.”

Happy to leave such an exhausting day behind, the shinobi carefully entered the tent, quietly sealing the flap behind her so as not to disturb her faithful traveling companion. It was but a month ago that the adventurer had first volunteered to guide Yugiri to Vylbrand. Since then, Teruko had joined Yugiri on most of her journeys between Revenant’s Toll and Limsa Lominsa, becoming her unofficial link to the Scions. When Yugiri had last visited her fellow Domans at the Toll, she learned that it had become popular to call Teruko her “second shadow.”

Neither of them minded that very much, having become close friends during their travels together. Teruko, a Doman who had never seen the East, was always eager to ask Yugiri questions about her ancestral home. Yugiri frequently worried about her companion’s overconfidence and… impulsive spending habits, but she could not deny that she had much to learn from her young companion. When she was not asking questions, Teruko was sharing stories of her own experiences in seemingly every corner of Eorzea.

In truth, the young archer was rarely silent. It was for this reason that Yugiri was deeply concerned, as Teruko had hardly said a single word to her since they left Revenant’s Toll.

The shinobi set her sheathed daggers aside as she sat down upon her bedroll. At the opposite side of the tent, Having already shed her armor, Teruko was lying down on top of her own bedroll, her back facing Yugiri.

The shinobi spoke softly from behind her mask. “Teruko, I have been meaning to ask. Is something on your mind?”

Silence hung in the air.

“Teruko, you are well aware that I know when you are feigning sleep.”

The adventurer murmured her reply, barely missing a beat. “...I’m just coming down with something. You don’t need to concern yourself with it.”

Unsatisfied, Yugiri’s voice grew colder and more stern as she considered a more drastic approach. “I believe I do. And I would appreciate it if you at least looked at me when I talked to you.”

Quietly sighing, Teruko raised herself up, still facing the wall. Lost in her thoughts, the archer did not hear the soft ruffle of cloth from Yugiri’s side of the tent as she slowly turned around.

“I’m sorry, I… ah!” Her eyes widened as she looked up. “Yugiri! Y-your...”

The adventurer gasped as her gaze met with the shinobi’s silver eyes for the first time. Before her was not the eternally-masked shinobi she had grown close to, but a woman with fair skin, dark hair tied into two tails, and white scales framing her face. Sleek horns curved back from the sides of her head.

Yugiri offered a sly smile. “I see I have your attention now. Let this be my promise that I will hide nothing from you. Can I trust that there will be no secrets between friends?”

Still shocked, the adventurer nodded quietly.

“So, again… is something on your mind? I ask only because you seem to be an entirely different person today, Teruko.”

A dull silence rang in the air as the Warrior of Light searched for the right words. In the end, she settled for one.

“Shiun.”

Yugiri raised her eyebrow, and immediately sought clarification. “Shiun? You are speaking of one of the younglings under Hozan’s care, correct? What about him?”

“Yes. Before you arrived at the Toll, the children dragged me off demanding to play. After that, Shiun said to me, ‘You know, my father told me a long time ago to never be a bad person like a Mogami.’”

Yugiri frowned, and turned her gaze to the floor for a moment. “Is that so.”

“Yeah.” Teruko’s voice started to tremble. “Of course, he quickly told me that he didn’t think I was a bad person at all. But if a child was told that, I can only imagine what the adults believe about me.”

The archer swiftly adjusted her posture, drawing closer to the Yugiri with remorseful eyes. “And… I wondered what a certain woman who had to know everything believed.” She gave Yugiri an expectant look.

“I will tell you this. The name of the Mogami is been stained black by their own deeds, and was struck from the list of honored warrior clans of Doma. When the Garlean Empire began their invasion, not only were they not present on the field, but it was later discovered that they had already chosen to side with the clear victors.”

Teruko clenched her hands into fists atop her knees, her knuckles becoming bone-white. “And eventually, the clan moved to the Garlean territory of Ala Mhigo. They were rewarded for that decision with a comfortable life at the expense of others. And by extension, so was I.”

Yugiri nodded as she listened. “I see. So you fear that we Domans may not trust you because of all this?”

“It was what I suspected yes. I didn’t know about what you just told me, as my family never told me about any that. But everyone else does, don’t they?” The Warrior of Light looked Yugiri in the eye as she spoke shakily. “Didn’t this change how you saw me when we first met? Or even now? It has to!”

“It crossed my mind, of course. As the guardian of the Doman refugees, I had to consider every possible factor to ensure the well-being of my people.” Yugiri smiled as she placed a warm palm over Teruko’s clenched hand. “But I decided that the history behind your name is rather meaningless compared to what you have done yourself.”

“R-really now?”

“Are the sins of your grandparents, or even your parents your own? I would say not. You clearly chose your own path and rejected their ways. You could still be living in Ala Mhigo, but you are here aiding the weak and fighting the Garleans.”

Teruko nodded along, her eyes closed. She seemed to be fighting back the urge to cry.

“I can only speculate on how you came here, but I suspect that it is similar to my own path. For whatever reason, you fled your home unable to fight back against a force too great to face alone. And now, in a new and unfamiliar land, making the best of your new circumstances. And it seems that you have done a good job of that.”

The Warrior of Light smiled, her posture straightening as if a burden was lifted from her shoulders. “And here, I thought you may suspect me to be a spy.”

“You can trust that I would be able to notice a Garlean spy. And if you are one, you are absolutely awful at your job.” The shinobi chuckled, sensing the mood in the tent change.

In a flash, the Warrior of Light made it very clear that she was more Eorzean than Doman. She moved forward, and gave Yugiri a hug.

“Hey now, I’m not used to this kind of thing.” Eorzeans seemed to have a much lower sense of personal space than people back home, but Yugiri didn’t mind very much. Just this once.

Teruko released her embrace, moving back to her bedroll. “Sorry, I should have asked. But… thank you, Yugiri. Thank you.”

“Could I do anything less for my ‘second shadow?’”

“Hah! Don’t you start calling me that too!” She started laughing. “By the way… you’re absolutely beautiful. You should keep the mask off!”

“I appreciate the compliment, but it would be best to keep this a secret between us for now. People fear the unknown, and it will save everyone trouble.”

“Oh fine.” Teruko ran her fingers through her own long hair. “But you absolutely must show me how to wear my hair like that. I won’t let you out of my sight until you do.”

“That’s a very bold threat to make towards someone with in my field of expertise. You should be careful.” Yugiri laughed, relieved to see Teruko’s usual self shining through again. She had a sense that Teruko’s worries about her past  would come up again, but there would be time for that later. After all, with the Warrior of Light able to speak again, Yugiri would certainly be getting less sleep.

[himeadventures]

Light Across the Land (Prompt #13: Results)

Staring with dismay at the reams of paper scattered across her desk, Kozakura could confidently say that she would be sleeping late tonight. Although the Shazenkai’s large-scale reconstruction projects were going smoothly, there was still much work to be done. The last refugee families returning from the West still needed homes, and so land had to be inspected and zoned for construction. She had to place a rushed order of stone bricks after some strange incident or another led to an entire shipment sinking to the depths of the One River. And while it was more of a token gesture given Lord Hien’s generosity, she still had to pen an official report she had to write to Lord Hien to secure continued funding from the royal treasury.

A drawn-out noise somewhere between a groan and a yawn escaped her mouth as she slumped down, straining her eyes at one last letter from Master Tsuranuki. It was bad enough that his writing was chicken-scratch, but the old blacksmith insisted on using archaic Doman characters occasionally. She sighed as she raised her brush to pen a response.

A minute passed as the young official did nothing but stare blankly at the unblemished paper. It was one more minute before Kozakura realized that one of her close friends had quietly approached her counter, shaking her head.

“Hi Kozakura.”

Nearly jumping out of her seat, Kozakura shook awake as she raised her head. “H-hey, Teruko, don’t sneak up like that!”

Kozakura didn’t exactly appreciate her friend’s teasing laughter at the moment, but her presence brightened her mood. The busy adventurer seemed to have finished her own tasks for the day, and Teruko had clearly been hard at work over at the watchtower at the docks. The sleeves of the spare clothes she lent her were caked with dried mortar, and her normally neatly-tied hair was loose and disheveled. If one did not look carefully, they could easily mistake the liberation hero from the West for one many Doman citizens toiling to rebuild their war-torn castle town.

Teruko leaned on the counter and smiled. “Okay, maybe I should have said something earlier, but you seemed really focused on nothing for some reason. But now that I’m here, I was wondering if the busiest girl in Doma wanted to join me at the Stalls for a break.”

“Eh? A break? It’s tempting but I at least need to clarify my order of tools for Master Tsuranuki… and then there’s the… the...” She interrupted herself with a gaping yawn.

“Kozakura, you’ve got these dark bags under your eyes and the sun’s about to go down.” Teruko grinned mischievously. “You’re going with me if I have to drag you out of there myself!”

“But-”

The adventurer suddenly made it clear that she was dead serious as she began climbing over the side of Kozakura’s booth.

Flustered, Kozakura immediately stood up.“Waitwaitwait, Teruko! I get it, okay! You don’t have to do that!”

The Ten-Thousand Stalls were crowded with people coming from every corner of the Enclave. There was not a single open seat in the area, so the two friends settled down at a quiet bench near the Enclave Barracks. Mostly quiet, anyway: a group of giggling children were running back and forth, carrying colorful paper pinwheels in their hands.  Despite the distance from the stalls, the savory scent of grilled fish and fresh miso drifted over. For now however, they settled with fare that could easily be carried. Fresh rice balls for Kozakura, a set of dango to satisfy Teruko’s sweet tooth, and hot green tea for both of them.

Kozakura quickly began devouring her meal, taking large bites out of the onigiri. She had not realized how long it was since her last meal, but seeing the wide variety of meals being served at the Stalls almost brought her to her knees.

Teruko sipped at her tea before turning to the girl who was ungracefully scarfing down her food. “So if I’m understanding this correctly, you’re not sleeping much, and you’ve been sacrificing your meals too?”

There was an awkward silence as Kozakura hurriedly tried to swallow her last gulp of rice and fish. “It’s just been very busy lately. And I can’t neglect my duties, or the whole of Doma shall suffer the scars of the occupation for even longer. So I’m willing to bear it if that’s what it takes.”

Teruko chuckled softly, almost feeling a sense of deja-vu. “Ah! What you said…. it reminds me far too much of something I told my friends once.”

“Eeeeh? Is that so?”

“Mhm! So you can trust me when I say this: Kozakura, you are pushing yourself waaaaaay too hard. And if you keep this up, I’m worried you’re going to end up passed out on the floor somewhere at best.”

Kozakura tapped her feet on the floor as she sensed the deep concern in Teruko’s voice. “Maybe that’s true. It’s just… perhaps you know how I feel. I always wanted to do something to help the Enclave when we were still struggling under Garlean rule. So now that I have the chance… I can’t bear to waste it.”

“It’s that kind of spirit that I admire in you. Truly. But sometimes it’s best to let things wait, or ask a friend for help. If you take on all that responsibility on your own, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Teruko took a hefty sip of tea, as she looked up at the sturdy pagoda-like watchtower cutting against the orange sunset. “And besides, when I look around, I can see that you’ve already done so much.”

Kozakura spun her head around. It was true: in every direction, she could see how much her home had changed in the months since Doma became free. Where there was once rubble and squalor, sturdy homes and busy workshops had risen. The people felt safe and proud again, and children could afford to run about the Enclave without a care in the world once more.

“Maybe… maybe you’re right. I promise I will take your advice into consideration, okay?” Following her friend’s gaze, she turned her attention up towards the watchtower that rose high above the castle town. “I suppose both of us did our part with that, didn’t we? Even with the scaffolding still in place, it’s truly impressive. I can’t wait until it is finished.”

Teruko set her cup down. “But… wait, didn’t Ishibushi tell you?”

“Huh? About what?”

“Well, after today… wait, hold that thought.” Teruko pointed at the top of the watchtower, where a flicker of light glimmered. A bright light flourished as the lighthouse beacon housed at the top floor was set alight. Awed gasps and shouts rang from the direction of the crowded market stalls, and the children who had been playing nearby stopped and cheered.

“What I wanted to say… was that we finished ahead of schedule, and were going to set the beacon alight as a surprise for everyone.”

Kozakura clasped her hands together in joy. “Ah! It’s beautiful! So beautiful… it’s a sight that reminds me that all that effort really is worth it.”

“I can’t agree more.” Teruko lifted one of her dango skewers and began to partake in her sweetbreads in quiet celebration. She lost count of how many different odd jobs around the Enclave she put in to support the Shazenkai’s endeavors.

Suddenly, she felt something heavy against the side of her body. It seems that despite all the excitement, the stress of the day finally caught up to her friend, who had dozed off to sleep on her shoulder.

“H-hey, I’m still all sweaty from work! You… oh, I suppose you deserve it.” The adventurer silently munched on her dango, as the light of the beacon illuminated the Doman Enclave.

[himeadventures]

A Daughter of Doma (Prompt #12 - Accolade)

The assembly room of the Kienkan had always been a curiosity to Teruko. It was unlike any similar place she had seen in Eorzea: the resplendent artwork adorning the walls seemed to be at odds with how barren the vast hall was. Aside from a few bright lanterns and a lacquered folding screen displaying the distinctive peaks of the Dairyu Chain behind the lord’s platform, there was no furniture in the room that the Lord of Doma made his official appearances.

As such, Teruko had naught to focus on but the three Doman officials before her. At the center, atop the elevated stage, sat the young and brash Lord Hien of Doma. To his left sat the Lupin general Hakuro, with straight posture and fierce eyes drawing attention away from his wrinkled kimono. On the lord’s right sat the master shinobi Yugiri, who shed her cool and strict expression and smiled warmly as Teruko looked at her. In normal circumstances, Teruko would call these people her friends or companions. But when she was approached by one of Hien’s samurai retainers on arrival at the Doman Enclave, she knew that today would not be routine.

Lord Hien addressed Teruko in his usual loud and booming voice. “Lady Mogami of Eorzea, you honor us with your presence. Welcome to the Kienkan.”

Teruko bowed slightly, hoping it was the appropriate thing to do in this situation. “It is my pleasure, Lord Hien. But if I may ask… why all this sudden formality?” She tilted her head playfully. Normally, when you wish to talk to me during my visits, you are content with walking out of your manor and greeting me with a pat on the shoulder.”

The young lord guffawed. His serious demeanor melted away instantly as his two retainers shook their heads. “Right you are, right you are! But I felt it was appropriate, given the reason I summoned you here today.”

“I see. Pardon my interruption, then.”

Sitting up straight again, the lord closed his eyes as he began his explanation. “Mere seasons ago, Doma was broken and without hope. To see Doma today, free and prosperous once more… for both myself and many of my people, it can still feel like a fleeting dream.”

He paused, and looked the wandering bard in the eye. “But of all the surprises of the past seasons, few are greater than the fact that among our allies from the distant West was a lost daughter of Doma. A woman of Doma bearing a clan name that has meant nothing but betrayal and cowardice since the Garlean invasion.”

Teruko looked down, nodding silently.

“But the black deeds of your predecessors mean little compared to what you have done for my people. Not only have risked your life in battle countless times to secure our freedom, but you return regularly to lend your own hands and sweat towards rebuilding our shattered castle town.”

The lord of Doma bowed, followed by his retainers. “And that is why, I, Lord Hien of Doma, offer to restore the honored status of the Mogami clan. With you, Teruko, as its noble head.”

By the time the three figures before her returned to their upright postures, the Scion’s mouth was still agape.

“L-lord Hien! This is…” The bard grew quiet as she reassembled her composure. She wished to choose her next words carefully. “Lord Hien, I really don’t believe I can express how much this means to me. I truly appreciate it. But….I am afraid that it may be best that I decline your generous offer. Primarily for personal reasons, but also out of concern for Doma.”

Hien and Hakuro both drew back in their surprise. Yugiri raised an eyebrow, but otherwise seemed unfazed.

The Lupin’s usual hot-headed boldness began to show through. “Teruko, Lord Hien isn’t asking you to pledge an oath of loyalty or anything like that. But surely you can not be serious? And I can not think of a single person in the realm that would object after seeing you plant seeds and ferry lumber alongside the smallfolk!”

The lord himself did not seem offended. He spoke up as he shifted to a more relaxed position. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that either. Would you mind sharing your reasoning though?”

Teruko nodded. “That’s not a problem, of course. I should start by saying that while I always feel welcome in my ancestral homeland, it would feel… strange for me to hold such a position. Even an honorary one. I seem to always find ways to make myself out of place in the land my parents knew as children. I suppose that while Doma has always had a place in my dreams, my heart feels at home in Eorzea.”

“That, I can understand. But why would holding such a title cause any concern for the country?”

“That may be more complicated to explain. Maybe even speculative. But I think I’ve experienced enough political upheaval, whether I wanted to or not, to develop a sort of gut feeling for these things. I just worry about what sort of precedent this would set.”

“I see. Expecting some future consequences, then?”

“Mhm. If you restore the status of one noble family, wouldn’t many others expect the same? To control their provinces, Garlemald is content to subvert the rich and selfish into happily abusing their own countrymen. So I expect that the Mogami clan is not the only one that collaborated with the empire.”

Quiet until now, the shinobi suddenly spoke, a proud expression on her face. “Teruko does have a point here, Lord Hien. Before the liberation, there were far too many nobles and merchants that eagerly brought naught but suffering to the people for their own selfish gain. And now they proclaim complete loyalty to your rule despite happily selling Doma’s people and wealth away to Garlemald.”

The bard nodded. “Yes, this is what I worry about. Perhaps my actions have done enough to redeem my clan. But if news reached about the Mogami’s redemption reached the public, I fear these people will flock to you, hoping to escape responsibility for their own actions. After all, if you will pardon the crimes of Doma’s of the most reviled clans, why not theirs? It has the potential to be a complicated problem, and one I don’t want to make any harder for you.”

The lord nodded as he grasped exactly what Teruko and Yugiri were saying..He felt most at ease among warriors, among whom honor and heroism are meant to be rewarded. This small gesture seemed like an easy and obvious measure to him. But perhaps the well-traveled Warrior of Light and Doma’s all-seeing shinobi commander were right to be cautious.

“Hah! Even at a time meant to celebrate your actions, you’re thinking of the worst-case scenario. But I see your point.” He looked down at the shinobi to his right. “Yugiri, it seems you’re rubbing off on our friend here. Though with all that time you’re spending together, the last thing I expected would be the two of you discussing politics.”

The shinobi blushed, and silently shot Hien a glare. The look on her eyes clearly read, “If it were not for my oaths, I would kill you right here.”

Teruko chuckled. “Thank you for your understanding. Is there anything else, then?”

Hien crossed his arms. “Well, I do have another offer. For all of you. Shall we forget all this tiresome business for a bit and enjoy some sake together?”

The bard beamed. “Now that is an offer I can always accept.”

[himeadventures]

Extinguished (Prompt #10: Coward)

The heavy doors of the Forgotten Knight shut with a deep thud, banishing the howls of the frozen Coerthas winds. Two solemn-faced Scions swept their gaze downstairs, searching each table and dark corner for their missing companion. In Ishgard, the loud and outgoing bard usually stuck out easily. The tavern was hosting boisterous crowds of commoners tonight, but the two Scions could not find a single sign of their friend among them.

Frowning as she adjusted her woolen coat, the Miqo’te healer’s eyes darted from corner to corner. “Hm? Tataru was certain that she saw Teruko heading over here. Maybe she went up to her room?”

The Limsan pugilist shook his head. “Eh… don’t know, Rana. I’m thinkin’ she wouldn’t do that. It’s only a couple ‘a hours since we were up the top of the Vault. And I know ‘er, she damn sure hasn’t been actin’ her usual since then.”

“And that’s why I’m worried.” Rana sighed. “Pascal, let’s ask Gibrillont. If she was here, he had to have talked to her.”

Hurrying down the stairs, they stepped up to the bar where the exhausted bartender was pouring several mugs of ale. Since the Scions’ arrival in the mountain city, the wise and grizzled Gibrillont had become a familiar face and valuable informant. “Ah, Pascal and Rana! Good evening to ya two.” He set his hand down on the counter. “I imagine you’re lookin’ for someone?”

Rana nodded. “It sounds like you already know. Is Teruko here?”

“Aye. She asked me if there was a quiet place she could be alone. Sent ‘er down to a side room on the lower floor First door you’ll see.”

“That’s all we need to know. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. But before you run off, give ‘er this.”

With a serious expression on his face, the bartender slides a large metal canteen over the counter.

Pascal raises an eyebrow as he accepts the canteen, the contents sloshing about inside. “Ey, Gibrillont, what’s this then?”

“Just water.”

“...shite. I don’t like the sound of that one bit.”

Following the bartender’s directions, the two Scions descended down the staircase towards the Brume-side entrance, and found themselves before a worn door. As they slowly opened it, they heard a quiet gasp from inside.

Under the light of a few dim oil lanterns, an almost unrecognizable woman sat before an overturned crate that had been reused as a table. Her face was flush pink as she finished off what appeared to be her fifth bottle of stout Ishgardian brew. She trembled with each breath, and it was clear that she had been crying for quite some time. Most striking of all was her hair. During their travels together, Teruko went through great lengths to make sure her long hair was clean and well-cared for. But now, it was short and uneven, as if she had hastily lopped it away herself.

As Pascal and Rana rushed to her side, she huddled in her seat and turned away, trying to avoid eye contact. She did not speak a single word.

Rana placed her hand softly on Teruko’s shoulder. “It’s been a difficult night, hasn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Pascal picked up one of the empty bottles and shook it. “And ye didn’t even save any for us. What’s goin’ on with you? Are ya alright?”

The battered archer looked towards him with swollen, empty eyes. She answered in a hoarse, bitter voice, “What do you think?”

Sensing a small drip of anger in her friend’s voice, Rana stepped in quickly. “Hey now… you’re among friends, Teruko. And we’re quite worried about you.”

Teruko sank lower in her seat, going silent again.

“Why don’t you start by telling us what happened here?” The Miqo’te ran her hand through Teruko’s hair, not even shoulder-length anymore. “I remember… back when we were still in Gridania, the first things you bought with your first payments. Expensive shampoos and brushes. So you can imagine that I am rather surprised.”

“An enemy could have grabbed it, and someone would have needed to risk their lives to save me,” she answered quietly.

Rana lowered her hands, sitting down at the stool beside Teruko. “I know you and Haurchefant were… close, Teruko. But you can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

The archer tensed up at the mere mention of his name. “How… how could I not?” She began to shout. “I-it… it keeps happening! It never stops! First Ul’dah, and now… n-now… he’s...”

She put the bottle in her hands to her mouth to distract herself. It was empty.

Standing up, she faced her two friends and began to wail. “People keep dying because of me! All I’ve done is walk blindly into traps and need somebody to throw themselves in front of me as my shield!”

Pascal began shouting as well. “That… nobody expected any of that! None of us! Why are you blamin’ yourself? Don’t be a fool, lass!”

“Because at this rate you’re going to be next, Pascal! And you, Rana!” Her eyes began to well up again. Through the tears, Teruko sat down with her hands in her face.

“I.. I know why you came here. I heard.” She sniffed. “We’re supposed to depart for the Sea of Clouds and search for the Archbishop tomorrow morning. I’m telling you now. Leave me.”

Rana reached out and placed her hand over Teruko’s clenched fist. “Teruko, no. We’re heading out there, and I’m definitely not leaving you to drink through another seven rounds of this. Besides… we need you. The three of us have always worked together, right?”

“So you want me to board that airship just to watch you impaled upon a spear of light? While I lay helpless on the floor?” She shrieked loudly. “Is that it? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?” The tears were uncontrollable now. Teruko slumped down onto the crate, her face in her arms.

Pascal moved closer to her, and gripped her shoulder firmly. “Nay, that’s what I’m thinkin’ will happen if you don’t go with us, lass.” The Limsan seemed a different person as his voice grew grave and serious. “We came to this ‘ere miserable place together, and we’re gonna snap that old man’s neck together. I ain’t never leavin’ my friend behind.”

“I… no. I can’t…”

Rana patted her on the shoulder. “There isn’t a single person I would trust more at my back with nothing more than a bow and a flute, Teruko. I promise you. Under my watch, we’ll all make it back.”

The archer shook, choking back her sobs. Stretching her arms out, she pulled her two fellow Scions close and embraced them. Although she was beyond words, the others felt her hold them close as she cried out the burdens of the last long, painful months.

[himeadventures]

An Unfamiliar Home (Prompt #8: Crag)

The crisp mountain air cleansing her lungs, Teruko Mogami stopped in her tracks as she climbed up the Gyr Abanian highroad. Behind her, a long, narrow column of Ala Mhigan resistance fighters continued their long march along the winding path. Their spirits high after their last victory, they sung jubilant marching song. Unable to grasp the lyrics, Teruko Mogami sighed. There was a warm comfort in hearing the men and women celebrating their progress towards liberating their beloved home, yes. However, the Warrior of Light could not understand why she could not share their feelings.

After all, Ala Mhigo was her home once as well.

But during her twenty summers in the once-powerful city, her name was still Teruko ban Mogami. It was at the mercy of the Garlean Empire that her family was allowed to retain their wealth and resettle there. Rather than a refuge, the towering walls of the city were her prison: she had never been allowed to see the lands beyond. Taller than the walls was the pure, ignorant fear she was taught to view the vast majority of the city’s people.

Ala Mhigo was her home. But it was never truly hers.

Gazing down from her perch among the highland peaks, the Warrior of Light finally understood how little she truly knew of the land she once called home. The scene before her seemed otherworldly, as countless russet spires framed the lowland valley below. She could trace the exact points where the realm’s unforgiving rocky soil was broken by spare oases of green grass. In the far distance, the outlines of Ala Ghanna’s dug-in dwellings distinguished themselves against a cliff wall. Next to the settlement, the white of the waterfall’s terminus was bright against the cool blue of the lake below. From this height, even the ancient ziggurat of the Qiqirn looked small enough to fit in the palm of Teruko’s hand.

Teruko exhaled, wishing that she had been able to peek out of the rickety covered wagon that she rode when she was smuggled to Eorzea what felt like years ago. Perhaps this was not her home. But she was going to fight like hell to save it.

Lost in the sights of the Gyr Abanian Peaks, Teruko was snapped back to consciousness as a sturdy arm wrapped around her shoulders, urging her back on the road.

“Oi, Teruko! What’s the matter, still not used to breathing this far up?”

She turned her head to the enthusiastic Seeker woman with wild pink hair. “No, not that. It’s just… I’ve come a long way.”

The Miqo’te officer smiled, with a hunch that the Warrior of Light was not speaking of her return from far-off Doma. “Yeah? Well, we’re all really thankful you did. C’mon, at this rate the troops will leave us behind.”

“Ah! I didn’t realize they had already overtaken me… I think I’m ready, M’naago. Let’s go.”

After a friendly yet firm pat on the shoulder, the Warrior of Light quietly continued down the winding mountain path.

[himeadventures]

The Line After the Last (Prompt #7: Serendipitous)

As a rising star among the realm’s adventurers and a fledgling member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, Teruko Mogami could confidently say that this was the most terrifying moment of her life. Betrayed from within, the unit of Ul’dahns she had been assigned to support was quickly overrun by a force of Amalj’aa warriors more than twice their number.

And yet, the lizard-like beastmen did not kill her or the Ul’dahns. Instead, the victorious lizardmen held them prisoner in a pit deep in their territory in the mountains of southern Thanalan. And it was clear that their captors were very unconcerned with escape, having neglected to even bind any of them.

Teruko realized that they were right to be so confident. There was but one exit out of the pit, guarded by a bulky-looking spearman. Above, four stark cliff walls framed the starry night sky. Climbing out was out of the question, even before taking into account the gash in her leg that made it painful to walk, let alone climb a sheer cliff face.

Hands shaking, the adventurer reached in her pockets, hoping that she had anything that could help her. Her bow and arrow were confiscated, as was the shortsword she had started carrying only two days ago. The beastmen seemed to have a sense of humor, as they had left the handful of now-useless gil that she was carrying in her pockets. Just as Teruko felt ready to accept her fate, her fingers found a cold, round object in her front pocket. The lizardmen had taken everything of use, save for her linkpearl.

Huddling against the wall, Teruko held the pearl against her ear and whispered a frantic plea.

“M-Minfilia! Minfilia! Are you there? Anyone… please…”

The Antecedent’s cool and collected voice rung back in her ears. It had never been more welcome.

On a quiet desert road near Ul’dah, two novice Scions were thoroughly inspecting a merchant wagon overloaded with goods. The first, a Miqo’te conjurer in a blue robe, was rereading the manifest suggesting the wagon carried nothing but arms and other supplies for the Brass Blades. The other, an Ala Mhigan youth still unused to wearing his armor, was confirming that this was definitely not the case.

Arenvald Lentinus towered over the impatient moustached merchant who was hounding at him to hurry up. “Sir, I’m pretty sure that these here herbs are illegal in all three cities o’ the Alliance. But you’re lucky we’re not concerned with any of that.”

“My concern is that you no-name adventurers are thoroughly wasting my time by putting your noses where they shouldn’t be! There isn’t a single damned crystal in my wagon!”

Arenvald was just about ready to speak his mind before he felt a tap on the back of his shoulder. His fellow inspector, Rana Nhamera, had a grave, piercing look as she lowered her linkpearl from her ear. Her steady composure hardly matched the dire news she was about to deliver. “Arenvald. Minfilia’s telling us we have some big trouble... Teruko’s trapped in Zan’rak with nothing but her linkpearl. We need to go.”

“Eh? If they took prisoners then… yeah, forget this, we needed to be there an hour ago. You’re lucky today.”

Content to simply leave the insufferable merchant behind without a word, Arenvald had already taken the first few steps away from the wagon and down the road. When the merchant started shouting again however, he turned around and saw Rana on top of the wagon, holding a longbow and wearing a quiver of arrows on her back.

“You stray moon-faced bitch! What do you think you’re doing? You think you can get away with stealing from an Ul’dahn?”

The conjurer hissed back. “Sorry, but it’s for your own good!”

The merchant ran to the rear of his cart, blocking the path down. “Why, I should- ack!”

Held up by his collar, the Merchant flailed his arms as the Ala Mhigan scion dragged him away. “Hey, who taught ya to talk to women like that? Step off, you greedy sack’a shite!” Arenvald unceremoniously tossed the man aside with one arm, as his partner in crime quietly leapt off the wagon and broke into a run down the road.

Catching up to the Miqo’te, Arenvald started laughing. “I didn’t know you had that in you, Rana!”

“I didn’t know you had that in you, Arenvald. Besides, we can’t have Teruko punching her way through the Amalj’aa, can we?”

“Good point. But let’s hurry and make sure she lives first!”

Sitting under the shade of a palm tree, Pascal Laurent patiently waited for something to catch his lure. It was a slow night, with only a few fish taking the bait, but he had a good feeling about this next bite. That is, until his concentration was broken by the vibration of his linkpearl.

“Hey, I’m in the middle of somethin’ ‘ere!”

At the other end, the tone of the Antecedent’s voice suggested that her endless patience was not tested just yet. “I’m afraid whatever it is, you’ll have to drop for now. Your fellow Scion and countless lives may rely on you. Can you get to southern Thanalan?”

“Get there? I’m already there! At Forgotten Springs!”

“You’re not in La Noscea? But you’re supposed to be....” The line went silent for a few moments. “Nevermind it, that’s perfect. Can you meet Rana and Arenvald at Little Ala Mhigo? If so, get ready for a fight in the mountains. A fight with a primal.”

“Don’t ya worry Minfilia. Just think of me as already there!”

Pascal reeled in his line and gathered his few belongings. As he approached the Aetheryte, he gently transferred his catches for the night to a young U Tribe girl. “Happy nameday, lass. I’m fightin’ a primal!”

Deep in the mountains, Teruko staggered backwards, her heart racing, and breath heavy. She braced herself as Ifrit, the living god of the Amalj’aa, blasted her and all the other “nonbelievers” with a blue-white flame. The Ul’dahns to each side of her, loyal or traitor, were wiped clean. The shells that remained, spoke in their voices, madly praised Ifrit as their god.

Spared of this fate, Teruko stared down the Lord of Flames, unarmed and limping. The god looked down on her, and bellowed deeply. “Forsooth, thy mortal frame can serve as a vessel to the blessing of but One. Yet I smell not the taint of another upon thee. The truth of your allegiance waxeth clear… and thine existence is not to be suffered.”

Drawing back, Ifrit’s scaled body began to radiate an intense heat. The adventurer closed her eyes, and heard not a jet of flame from before her, but the clash of steel from behind. The telltale sound of rock rising from the ground forced her eyes open, just in time to see a solid spear of earth strike Ifrit’s leg.

Familiar, welcome faces rushed into the Pit of Embers. Pascal Laurent shot an arrow into Ifrit’s leg, causing him to roar and retreat further back into the pit. With his shield forward, Arenvald Lentinus charged into Ifrit’s unprepared thralls, knocking them down and trampling them before stopping in front of Teruko, guarding her from attack. And from behind, Rana Nhamera raised her staff, illuminating the area as a soothing warmth enveloped Teruko’s leg, easing the pain away.

Running next to her, the Limsan tossed the bow and quiver into her arms. “Haven’t fired one of those in years! Bet you’ll like ‘em more tho, you lucky lass.”

Guided by instinct, Teruko took an arrow and drew back the bowstring as Pascal charged forward to punch a flaming lizard god. She would count her blessings for the night later: the four Scions had a job to finish.

[himeadventures]

An Eorzean Welcome (Prompt #5: Show of Hands)

When the coachman mentioned some sort of beast roaming the roads of Western Thanalan and terrorizing travelers, Teruko Mogami had expected a rampaging longhorn or a giant hornet. However, the creature slowly approaching the carriage from the right flank was definitely not a rampaging animal. Flying erratically on its leathery wings, a one-eyed voidsent snarled through its maw of sharp teeth. This specimen was even nastier than the usual variety, being half again as large and an unnatural purple-black in color.

Although this was an unexpectedly vile welcome for the Doman refugees on board the carriage, a lone Ahriman was hardly a challenging foe for a seasoned adventurer. So when Teruko saw her fellow Scion and good friend Pascal Laurent sauntering up to the creature, she felt no need to intervene further.

Outside, the fisher-turned-pugilist casually sauntered between the carriage and the voidsent. He cracked his knuckles before taking a bare-knuckle fighting stance. “Alright ya ugly bastard of a one-eyed willie, I’ll give ye a beatin’ so hard yer slimy little family’ll feel it!” Leaping as far as his midlander legs could take him, Pascal introduced his fist to the Ahriman’s side, producing a loud and disgustingly liquid squelch.

As she recoiled slightly, Teruko felt a furious tug on her arm. Yozan, the oldest of the Doman children on board, had an all-too-curious look on his face as he tried to push his way towards the open canvas flap. “Teruko! Miss Teruko! We want to watch Mister Pascal beat up the monster!”

Teruko turned her gaze upwards to Hozan, the boy’s father and impromptu caretaker of all the refugee children. She met eyes with the beleaguered ex-ninja, busy trying to keep a few of the other overexcited younglings from peeking through the flap at the fore of the carriage, and both quietly shook their heads at each other.

Closing the flap behind him, Hozan cleared his throat and spoke in the stern voice only a father could have. “Absolutely not. The Scions are doing very dangerous work to keep us safe, and I need you four to sit quietly and calmly, okay?”

Yozan blinked twice, before throwing his arms up. “But dad, we want to see our new friends defeat the evil!”

The younger girl in red, Koharu, joined in. “Yeah, Yozan’s right for once! Besides, Teruko is here to protect us! We’re safe! Right Miss Teruko?” All four children turned their heads to the adventurer in pink, and rushed towards the flap she had halfway closed.

Teruko’s eyes darted back and forth as she thought of something to say. But she was not allowed even a second to think as the children pushed towards her. Worse, she caught a glimpse of Pascal being grazed by a stone spike as she closed the flap shut. That could only mean one thing...

“Gah! Me mum just stitched this shirt up a week ago! GET YER FILTHY ARSE OVER HERE YOU CROSS-EYED CYCLOPS I’LL PUT A NICK TEN TIMES AS GHASTLY IN YA!”

The creature outside shrieked wildly as it took several more blows. It was getting closer, though still focused on the pugilist giving it a thorough thrashing.

“Whoa! It sounds like it’s getting good!” Yozan jumped up and down, causing the entire carriage to shake.

The shyest of the four kids, Rokka, tugged lightly on Teruko’s sleeve. “Miss Teruko, what does ‘arse’ mean?”

Shaking her head, Teruko gently pushed the children away from the side of the carriage. “L-look, kids! Mister Pascal is fighting a very dangerous creature called an Ahriman! And…. and…” Puffing up her chest and taking on an overly serious tone, she continued. “Everyone, raise your hands up! Come on, show me your hands. Now!”

The four Doman youths immediately followed her directions. As the youngest looked to Hozan, he followed suit as well.

“Do you hear that screeching? It’s about to do a horrible screaming attack! Everyone cover your ears or you’ll never hear again!”

The kids collectively threw themselves backwards to the other side of the carriage.

“W-what? But I like hearing!”

“Is that why Pascal is screaming so loud? So he can’t hear?”

Teruko put on a stoic face, nodding sagely as she covered her own ears. “Yes, yes! Very good! Now-”

Suddenly, the mangled Ahriman was flung mere ilms from the exterior of the carriage. The two chocobos at the front grew restless, causing the entire vehicle to shake violently. Those inside could make out every fang and claw through its sharp silhouette. The panicking voidsent snarled and wailed.

As the children started to scream, Teruko tried to regain control of the situation as she put herself between the children and the creature outside. “Don’t be scared! If your turn around and keep your ears closed, it won’t be able to hurt you. And I’m still here!”

The four children obediently followed her directions. All except Yozan, who turned around to peek at the monster’s silhouette. He vaguely witnessed the monster’s last moments as Pascal drove his fist directly into its great eye, splattering… something over the canvas. The creature’s limp body disappeared from view as it fell under the carriage.

Pascal casually tapped the carriage with his bloodied hand. “Whew! All clear, now!”

Teruko and Hozan released a collective sigh of relief. The kids turned back around, finally lifting their hands from their ears. Except Yozan, with his face frozen forward, mouth agape, and eyes wide.

Teruko waved her hand in front of the elder child. “Hey, Yozan are you alright?”

Raising a shaking arm, the boy pushed Teruko’s hand down and began jumping up and down. “That. Was. Awesome!”

The four kids started shouting at each other in boundless excitement. “We saw a monster! It was so close!” “We can all still hear!” “Eorzea is the best!”

Teruko leaned back on her seat, and smiled towards Hozan, who was shaking his head. The man looked relieved as he opened the canvas flap, where his father Homei and the Ul’dahn coachman seemed completely unfazed by the past few minutes.

All was finally well, and the caravan could finally proceed to Mor Dhona. That is, until the floating carriage sank lower, the rear door flung open, and Rokka screamed loudly.

Pascal, the hero of the day, heaved himself up on board the carriage with a proud look on his face. The right side of his shirt was torn, revealing a bloody gash. His entire right arm dripped with voidsent viscera and a strange liquid that… whatever it was, was not red like normal blood, and filled the room with a nauseating smell.

“A good fight, I’d say! Ey, Teruko, wanna swap with me? I’m cravin’ a drink!”

[Note: Pascal Laurent is the character of my friend, oneilmpunch. They’re also participating in the challenge, so please visit their blog for more Limsan-style fisticuffs.]

[himeadventures]

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (Prompt #4: Saving Time)

The sun glowed at its height over Limsa Lominsa, its warm rays capable of waking even the groggiest adventurer from her deep sleep. Teruko stretched her arms and dragged herself out of bed, bemoaning the long list of tasks she had to take care of before reporting to Mor Dhona for a meeting with the Scions in the late afternoon.

A pleasant salt-sea breeze greeted Teruko as she stepped out of the Mizzenmast Inn. From below, a cacophonous flock of seagulls were assaulting the fisherman’s pier. The hardwood bridges that connected the Upper Decks swayed lightly underfoot as she briskly approached the open-air staircase that would lead right to the front of the immense, ponderously floating blue crystal at the center of the city.

Passing the customary fare to the guard in the crimson uniform, Teruko approached the aetheryte, raised her arm forward, and shut her eyes. There was a sharp hum, and starting from her outstretched palm, her entire body started to feel lighter than air. The beat of crashing waves faded away, and even the seagulls were silenced as she allowed herself to float away.

The ground beneath her felt solid again. A chorus of songbirds nestled in the maze of branches above welcomed the adventurer to the verdant city of Gridania. It was here that she had started her adventuring career, and by now she had memorized which vendors in a city famed for archery sold quality bowstrings for the best price. Although there was a familiar face at every other door, there was sadly no time to wander. Hardly a few minutes passed before Teruko stood before the Gridanian aetheryte again, two new bowstrings in her pack.

When she opened her eyes again, she stood inside a balmy indoor plaza that was illuminated blue-white by the crystal looming behind her. Stepping through the sole gate, Teruko joined the crowds walking the streets of Ul’dah. Under the shade of the domed citadel that dominated the city, she absentmindedly browsed through vibrantly dyed fabrics and silken dresses selling for far below their worth. It always amazed her how easily the merchants of the city would toss away such lovingly-crafted goods, just because the upper classes had found some new ridiculous fashion to suit their fancy.

By the time she returned to the Ul’dah Aetheryte Plaza, the adventurer’s pack had swelled with new clothes. It also seemed that all the rushing about was starting to wear down on her, as she felt the pangs of exhaustion start to settle in. As she paid the toll for the aetheryte, Teruko wondered where she could get a quick snack sometime between her last stop and the Scions’ meeting in Mor Dhona.

Upon arrival at Camp Dragonhead, Teruko Mogami immediately began to regret her decision to get work done today. It was a near-instant transition from Thanalan’s desert air to the frigid snows of Coerthas, and she was thoroughly unprepared for it. Wearing at least three layers too few, Teruko trudged her way towards the keep, quietly yelping as each step dug her bare legs into the snow.

Teruko pushed the heavy door, the amused-looking Elezen guards not stopping a familiar if currently very pitiable face. After shutting the door behind her, she spun around and mimicked the Ishgardian greeting that the surprised-looking knight sitting at his desk taught her weeks ago.

“Ah, Teruko Mogami! It is always good to be graced by your presence.” The blue-haired knight smiled as he welcomed his favorite adventurer with wide, outstretched arms. Too wide, as he knocked over the inkwell on his desk. Thankfully, the black ink dripped to the floor rather than ruining the paperwork he had been signing. Haurchefant Greystone looked down for a second before electing to ignore the mess and speak with his guest. “You’re getting better at that, by the way. Why, I’m sure on your visit the watch will mistake you for an Ishgardian.”

The shivering adventurer hurried closer to Haurchefant’s desk, standing on the side closest to the comfort of the crackling hearth. “I get the feeling that that may not be the case. But I’m glad I’m improving! But in any case, I’m just here to drop something off for you.”

“Oh?”

Teruko gently placed a thick envelope on the desk. “Slafborn asked me to give you these. I don’t know what the papers say, but he assured me you would be very ecstatic to read the news!”

“Miss Mogami, you wound me. You visit just to bring me more paperwork? At least stay for some tea.” He noticed the adventurer embrace herself, in a futile effort to fight the cold. “Hot tea. And perhaps I can bring you a coat?”

“Ah, sorry… I have to leave to meet with the Scions back in Mor Dhona soon.” She clasped her hands together and bowed her head somewhat remorsefully. “And I still have to return the first coat you lent me!”

Haurchefant stood up, carefully stepping around the spilled ink. With dramatic flair, he pulled a torch from the wall behind him. “Then at least allow me to escort you back to your chocobo.”

“The aetheryte today, actually.”

“That will work too.”

Haurchefant led the way outside, and the Warrior of Light followed close to his side. The torch and the knight’s equally warm hospitality helped banish the sting of the snow on her skin as they approached the aetheryte.

“Hey, Haurchefant? Thank you. Really. I’ll make sure to come by again in a few days.”

He flashed an excited smile. “It is always my pleasure to welcome my good friend, Teruko. Oh, and please. Take care of yourself.”

The adventurer smiled as she went through the motions. Before she was carried away, she could still see the Elezen knight waving.

Her shoes clacked on the cobblestone when she finally arrived at Revenant’s Toll, still smiling softly. It was a great mercy that the weather was good and the wind was still as she took a few shaky steps forward. However, something was very, very wrong. Why was everything still so cold? Why could she think of nothing but closing her eyes and drifting to sleep?

Three steps away from the aetheryte, the Warrior of Light lost consciousness, collapsing on the street.

Teruko Mogami woke up, and found herself laying on a bed in a side chamber of the Rising Stones. A Miqo’te woman with black skin and even darker hair, clad in a dark sapphire robe, loomed over her. One hand clasping her conjurer’s staff and one palm gently placed on Teruko’s forehead, she cast one last healing spell as her friend woke up.

“Hey… Rana, what happened? I missed the meeting, didn’t I?”

The conjurer looked both concerned and disappointed as she spoke. “Hoary Boulder practically destroyed the door as he carried you in. It seems you were slain by an aetheryte. Again.”

Teruko shrugged. “Oops.”

Rana’s ears twitched, and expression became deathly serious. With one swift motion, she flipped her hand and struck the foolish adventurer on the forehead. Hard enough to not cause injury, but forceful enough to wound any person’s pride.

“This is the second time this moon!” the conjurer shouted. “The second!”

Teruko visibly jumped under the blankets. “I-I’m sorry, I just had so many things to-”

“Even someone blessed by Hydaelyn herself such as you or I has a limit! I can’t even begin to imagine how much of your inner anima you’ve used!”

“W-well, limits are meant to be tested, right? It’s good to know the true bounds of your abilities!”

Rana sighed deeply, placed her staff aside, and sat down on a stool behind her. She threw her face in her hands.

“No more aetheryte travel for seven days. I don’t care how much travel time they save you. And I swear to Menphina, if I catch you near one I will nail you to your chocobo myself. Understood?”

Teruko quickly nodded as she shrunk back into the bed, trembling.

[himeadventures]

A Daughter’s Pride (Prompt #3 - Adytum)

Under the flickering light of a single oil lantern, Yugiri Mistwalker could not help but chuckle from behind her mask as Teruko Mogami, Eorzea’s famed Warrior of Light, dumped the contents of her pack onto the floor of their shared tent. Having been promised something of “absolute importance” to the Warrior of Light, Yugiri’s curiosity overtook her as she inched closer to her travelling companion.

It was a small mistake, as Lady Mogami had immediately snapped her body backwards in excitement. Were it not for Yugiri’s fast reflexes, the Warrior of Light’s head would have clashed with the shinobi’s own forehead.

“Aha! I’ve found it! I just need to stand it up...”

The Warrior of Light carefully freed a book-shaped item from its colorful cloth wrapping, and bowed her head twice as she stood it up on the floor.

Yugiri adjusted her mask, to better see whatever item that the hero of Eorzea held so dear. “Oh? Is that a Doman pilgrim’s shrine? It is rather surprising to see one so far from the East. How did you come across it?”

These portable wooden shrines, the size of a small book, used to be very popular in the lands of Doma. Several of Yugiri’s fellow warriors carried one on their own travels, so she was well familiar with them.The shinobi felt no need to mention that Lady Mogami had not properly completed the rituals that particularly devout Domans would perform before opening such a shrine. But the polished sheen of the dark wood and the unblemished carvings of Doman script suggested that the Warrior of Light had her own way of showing respect to the gods, having taken extreme care to keep her portable shrine in good condition.

Lady Mogami eagerly answered, the rising tone of her voice radiating pride. “My mother passed it to me as a nameday gift when I was still a child. She had brought it with her to Eorzea from across the seas.” She eagerly continued, gesturing towards the bronze idol at the center of the shrine, depicting a fan-wielding goddess whose waist-length hair and loose kimono flowed around her as she danced.

According to Doman legend, this goddess had saved the world from ruin by climbing atop an overturned tub and casting off all her clothes as she danced. Yugiri felt it would be best to keep this fact to herself for now.

“She told me that she hoped I’d be able to live a life like this goddess… ah, Ame-no-Uzume, I believe. Instead of becoming a warrior like her.” She sighed softly.

Although her concealing outfit made such a gesture redundant,Yugiri reflexively covered her mouth as she laughed. “If she was a true warrior of Doma, I do not believe she would hold a hint of disappointment considering all you have done, Lady Mogami.” She shuffled next alongside Teruko, settling into a kneeling position. “So… do you wish for me to pray with you?”

Wildly waving her hands in front of her, the Warrior of Light’s shocked expression betrayed the fact that she had not considered this a possibility at all. “Oh, ah… no! No not at all! I’m not even that serious with prayer… why, when I was younger I even started using this shrine to pray to Azeyma instead of-” She stopped herself, and took a deep breath.

“No, I don’t actually expect to do any prayers tonight. But this shrine is one of the few things I have to connect with Doma. The shrine, and my mother’s stories, anyway.” Teruko shifted to face Yugiri directly. “I just had hoped that maybe someone could tell me more about that distant place. Someone, perhaps, whose line of work must have had them run about the entire realm…”

“Ah, that’s true. I had almost forgotten that you were born here in Eorzea. By the way Lady Mogami, is this why you volunteered yourself to escort me to Limsa Lominsa?”

The Warrior of Light answered with the widest, most shameless grin Yugiri had ever seen.

“I see. It would be my pleasure, then. Regaling you with stories of your ancestral home is a small favor, compared to the tireless efforts you went through to secure safety and opportunity of her desperate people.”

“Oh, wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! I don’t even know where to start… my mother’s stories always seem to blend the true with the fantastic.” She clasped her hands together and looked upwards, overwhelmed by the possibilities.

After a few moments, the shinobi had a suggestion. “You can ask me everything, Lady Mogami. But we still have a few days of travel before we reach Vesper Bay, let alone Limsa Lominsa. Shall we come to agreement? I’ll answer three questions every night, before we retire to our sleeping rolls.”

Teruko nodded, the smile on her face unfading. “I’d love to be allowed even one. But perhaps tonight, I’ll ask about my favorite stories. I was told that a long time ago, a god fell in love with a Hyuran girl. Out of a desire to unite with her, he decided to build her a beautiful, seven-hued bridge of light so that she may climb into the heavens...”

Yugiri nodded slowly as the Warrior of Light continued the story. It seemed that Lady Mogami was getting lost in her fairy tale, but she didn’t mind at all. It had been a long time since she heard someone speak of Doma with such a sheen of wonder in their eyes.

“...but in the end, the other gods denied their love. The heavens were no place for a mortal. So they struck down the bridge, shattering it into one million shards. They cascaded down to the earth like snow, leaving only a valley that shone with the light of a rainbow.”

“You know the Legend of the Fallen Rainbow well, Lady Mogami. I am honestly very impressed! But you have not yet actually asked me any questions…”

“Ah! I’m sorry… but… well, my mother promised me that that entire story was true. That the valley too, was real. I never fully believed her, but… she seemed so resolute every time I said so. Am I right to be skeptical?”

Yugiri’s voice grew warm, wrapped in nostalgia. “Your mother is no liar, Lady Mogami. The Valley of the Fallen Rainbow is real, and hardly a long journey from the front gate of Doma Castle. I once had the pleasure on it of climbing a nearby peak and gazing down at the valley below when the sun was at its height. The stones glittered with every color you could imagine.”

The Warrior of Light’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. “Eeeeh?! Really now? I wish I could see it myself now...”

“I have a small hope that one day I will be able to return to Doma and see it myself, actually. It is unfortunate that the valley had grown dangerous before I left. It had become popular with Namazu bandits who-”

“Wait, the Namazu! The talking fish people, yes?”

“You wish to ask about the Namazu?”

“Of course. I was told that they were vile, detestable creatures. A ‘ slimy, pungent nuisance to honest folk,’ were the exact words. But looking back, the stories about them remind me of how people here in Eorzea treat the beastmen who share the land with them. What is your own impression, Yugiri?”

“I can only wonder what encounter your elders had with the Namazu to bring forth such a… er, colorful image. But for every trickster among the Namazu, there is an honest being with a strong heart. Just as any Hyur or Au Ra, is it not?” Yugiri yawned softly, the night starting to wear down on her.

A slight frown flashed on the Warrior of Light’s face. “Ah, it’s getting far too late, isn’t it? Would one last question be too much trouble, Lady Yugiri?”

“I keep my promises, Lady Mogami. I’ll answer one last question tonight.”

“Any question?”

“I am feeling merciful tonight. I will pretend you had not asked me that one.”

There was a pause. Slowly, Teruko’s expression grew into a playful smirk. “You don’t plan on sleeping wearing that, do you?” Yugiri felt a gentle finger tap lightly on the iron mask concealing her face.

No amount of training could stop the shinobi from breaking out into unrestrained laughter. “ Well now that you mention it Lady Mogami, it may be best that I keep watch for the night instead.” Without another word, she stood up, and opened the flap, letting the cool night air of Thanalan flow into the tent.

She heard the Warrior of Light stumbling to get up and follow her. “Wait… Yugiri? Are you serious? This is the safest road to Vesper Bay! Yugiri! Hey!”

With a soft smile behind her mask, Yugiri recalled how many days remained between them and Limsa Lominsa. But perhaps she would not mind it if it took longer than that.

[himeadventures]

Until the End (Prompt #2 - Silenced)

[Spoilers for the end of A Realm Reborn. Warning for Violence at the end.]

In the squalor of his people’s destitute encampment, Wilred Glasse attended to his menial task of unloading provisions from the city of Ul’dah. Officially, this was the responsibility of the Immortal Flames, the “stalwart” soldiers of the wealthy desert city. But today, just as every other day, those soldiers were content with tossing this manual labor to a poor Ala Mhigan youth for but a handful of gil as they spent their time drinking and gambling.

Wilred did not understand why a shipment that would hardly last Little Ala Mhigo a week could feel so endless as he unloaded crate after crate from the cart. “Won’t complain any today,” he thought to himself. “Sooner I’m done, sooner these drunk fools ‘ll pay me.” It certainly wasn’t worth any anger: the last time he let anger guide him, he nearly brought ruin to all he loved for the sake of false freedom.

He continued his work, moving the bulky crates one by one. Mind focused intently on the task at hand, Wilred blurred out the boisterous Ul’dahn soldiers and their card games. A hornet buzzed past his ear, and he did not spare any care at all. The sharp hum of the aetheryte at the encampment’s center, signalling the arrival of some unfortunate traveller, did not interest him at all as he lifted up a wide, poorly-balanced box.

That is, until he heard a playful, all-too-familiar voice whisper behind him. “Oh, Wilred... is this really what you’ve been up to since my last visit?”

“Gah!” The crate thumped as it tumbled to the floor on its side. “Y-you! Why would you sneak up on me while I was…”

He turned slowly, and found a familiar adventurer woman standing before him. That woman, still clad in that same ostentatious pink and white outfit, with one hand on her hip and the other brushing back her black hair. A person so out of place in this refugee camp that Wilred could hardly take her seriously, even before taking into consideration that she was a head shorter than himself.

And yet, Wilred immediately gave the woman craning her neck to look into his eyes his full attention. She was Teruko Mogami, the Warrior of Light. The very same that saved him and his people from himself.

“N-nevermind it. Hey, lady. What are you doin’ back here?”

Teruko laughed as she seated herself on a larger crate. “Still calling me ‘Lady?’ I have a name you know. But, well... I’m here for something important. Something that might involve you.”

“Hey now, I haven’t gotten into no trouble after that incident. My word, I promise ya. So what do you want with me?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to help me and the Scions with our little project... the Crystal Braves!”

“The what now?”

“The Crystal Braves! A force much like the Eorzean Grand Companies. Now imagine an army like them, but bringing together heroes and champions from every corner of the realm to fight evils threatening all of Eorzea.”

As the Warrior of Light went on, Wilred had to admit to himself, it was a very tempting offer. A new chance to prove himself, fighting for the good of all of Eorzea. Something more than the wild grasping for vaguely-defined liberation that drove him before.

Teruko had not even finished her pitch before Wilred straightened his posture and flashed an excited grin. “Hey, lady, that sounds exactly like the kind of opportunity I need. I’m prepared to fight the evil that I know is out there. But I have to ask… why’d ya come out to this dirthole looking for me?”

The Warrior of Light, laughed, then gave him a look beaming with pride. “Wilred, when you started that ill-guided insurrection, you were blind. But your intentions were good. You saw a real injustice, and were willing to do whatever it took to make it right. And that’s why I came here for you.”

Wilred couldn’t help but laugh himself. “You’re too kind. Really. But I won’t forget this, or you helping us all back then. You can trust me to do good and watch yer back.”

Deep in the ancient forests of the Black Shroud, Wilred concealed himself in untamed foliage, his ear trained on the campsite his marks built far from civilization. Sensing trouble for some time, he tailed two of his “comrades” for a considerable distance.

It all came to this. The two Crystal Braves before him, arrogantly believing themselves free of any listeners, were refining a plan that was more ruthless and craven that any other plot Wilred could imagine. Murdering the Sultana of Ul’dah? The Braves, detaining the Scions - the restless protectors of the realm - for crimes against the city? Framing the Warrior of Light for the whole thing? Fiends! Curs! Blackhearts! He felt dirty wearing the same damned uniform as them!

The temptation to leap out of the shadows and cut down the conspirators himself was powerful. But Wilred knew that without any more concrete evidence, it would be a foolish, reckless move. He still had time to run back to Mor Dhona to warn the Scions. And certainly the Warrior of Light. He would-

Wilred felt his heartbeat break into a frenzy as he felt a gloved hand grip his shoulder tightly. Cold, unforgiving steel plunged into the side of his chest. Every breath brought escalating agony, and he gurgled on the warm fluid rushing into his throat and lungs.

Wildly thrashing, Wilred mustered all of his remaining strength to resist his assailant. He reached for his sword, and then began bashing the back of his fist against the head of the man behind him when his other arm was restrained. Wilred vowed to himself that if he was never to leave this forest, then he would at least take one vile usurper down with him.

But the blade plunged deeper, and twisted until Wilred could resist no more.

A gruff, unflinching voice whispered into his ear. The familiar voice of a man Wilred once looked up to. “You know, boy. I always liked you. A fine example of Ala Mhigan spirit. It’s a shame your strength was wasted chasing ideals worth nothing compared to our freedom.”

The woods were gone. Wilred slumped to the ground, the world forever dark.

[himeadventures]

The Weight of Light (Prompt #1 - Submerged)

“Warrior of Light, this farce of a negotiation will not be any easier if Iceheart’s band sees you like that. Do not waste any time.”

Disappointment already ringing from his tired voice, the Azure Dragoon called out to the young woman several yalms behind himself and the idealistic fool of a boy who forwarded the ridiculous motion of parley with a being that burned with centuries of hatred. And yet it was not the boy, but the supposed hero of Eorzea that had stopped mid-step, as if the biting Coerthan wind had frozen her in place.

The Warrior of Light took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Estinien and Alphinaud waited at the crest of the hill ahead. She had lost track by now of how long they had been marching through the highlands, and could hardly remember the last time she had a chance to sleep. She did remember twisting and turning in bed the night before they departed on this forlorn hope of a journey, on high alert with mind set ablaze by innumerable visions of failure.

She did not blame herself for this. How could any person sleep knowing that the next day, they would embark on a long journey with the intent of ending a thousand year long war? A war between two parties that until very recently, she had been an absolute outsider to at best.

Lifting her leg, she took a small step forward. The snow crunched under her feet.

It was not so long ago that she was just another adventurer, delivering logs and letters to make a simple living. Traveling the realm, a new sight to see each day. If only life was that simple and carefree now.

Another step. Her boots dug deep in the snow as the thick, wooly hides tied to her pack shifted slightly, straining her balance.

In more recent memory, the only people she could call a family anymore had all sacrificed themselves to escape a trap that she absolutely hated herself for failing to stop. Hoping against hope, her remaining friends believed the others were still out there. She wanted to believe too.

She braced herself as a merciless gale suddenly beared down upon her. The wind knocked her warm layered cap loose, and her long dark hair flowed with the frosty air. It was a small blessing that that the cap caught itself on the tip of her bow, rather than becoming lost in some field of white.

Cursing her heavy eyelids, she went through the motions. Left. Right. Left Right. The fate of an entire city-state and the lives of its people were at stake. The vague voice calling from ahead was right. There was no time to waste.

Almost there, and yet she felt she was choking. She didn’t ask for this. Nothing prepared her for the burden on her shoulders.

Gentle hands suddenly clung to her right arm, pulling her up and forward; jolting her awake.

“Teruko, are…. are you alright?” The white haired negotiator himself helped the Warrior of Light to the peak of the hill. “Should we seek shelter?”

“Don’t mind me.” She smiled softly. “After everything, you think a hill is going to kill me?”

“N-no, it’s just…”

“We have a signal fire to light. I’m sorry for the delay.”

The Warrior of Light tried to put on her best act. A confident smile, some skillful words: a ritual completed many times after being the hero of the day. Instead, she forged onward quietly, past the boy, and past the Azure Dragoon crossing his arms. Left. Right. Left. Right.