#kaleh'a

[musesofawolf]

I got some wonderful art from the talented Elias Morning ( @hauntedblobofmeat ) of my Miqo'te, Kaleh'a! Absolutely love how this turned out!

[musesofawolf]

June 2026, Day 6

Anguish - Brynhorn Fiske

This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.

@daily-writing-challenge

TW: none

Spoilers: Minor points of Stormblood

“Is that…”

“Whoa…”

Bryn could just stare, not a word on his lips, his mind still trying to figure out just what he was seeing.

It was a…well, what other way was there to describe it besides a wolf. A bipedal, blinking, staring back at them wolf. Or, wolf man. Man wolf? “Lupin,” Alisaie called them, surprising them all enough that Kaleh'a’s tail flicked, Silvia’s ears twitched, and Bryn, Bryn still stood motionless. Motionless enough he might as well have been a statue as she continued. “Alphinaud told me about them. They are abundant in Othard and Doma. Surprised we haven't seen one sooner, honestly.”

Sooner? This was practically right outside of their small base of operations in Doma. If they were that common here that the three of them just ran into one? Could that really mean…

“Uhm, did I do something…wrong?” The Lupin was bouncing his gaze between the four of them, his simple kimono marking him as likely a farmer, and given the tiers of rice they were standing in, a local one. Bryn had no doubt their sudden group was concerning, especially the fact that they were all foreigners. It was no secret that a rebellion was brewing, while mostly being ignored, but with how close they were to the Lupin’s doorstep, he had no doubt they had heard the rumblings.

“No,” his voice surprised even him, a little louder than he meant, a little more gruff. He cleared his throat, shaking his head and offering a small smile. “Nothing wrong, sir. We just…it…we hadn't seen a Lupin before.”

“Ahhh, you weren't with the initial group we saw around here. Are we really that surprising?” His voice was so…fluid, with barely a hint of a growl, none of that animalistic rumble he would expect from a muzzle.

That he had heard from himself.

This was just surreal, to the point that Bryn stepped forward, closed his eyes, and…took a slow, deep breath.

“No, you are not surprising.” His eyes opened, offering a bow the way Yugiri had taught them. “It's nice to meet you. And thank you for your continued secrecy about our presence here.”

The Lupin bowed back, a small smile on his lips as he rose in time with Bryn. “No, thank you. You've brought hope back to us, and that is no small feat. I hope…truly…that you all succeed.”

“As do I.”

They wandered from the rice fields after that, along the road towards the arches of rock that easily let them view the Doma Castle, and it was only when they were separated by a few paces from Alisaie and Kaleh'a - who were bickering over who was the better fighter for the fifth time since they had landed in Kugane - that Silvia hung back, and asked the troubled Hyur, “Are they…?”

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Or, well, maybe.” They walked in silence for a moment, before he sighed. “Similar, but different. Maybe in the past, a long time ago, my family came from Doma. Or maybe the Lupin once lived in Gyr Abania. But if they did, there are almost no similarities now…” It brought a twang of anguish to his chest, something that bit deep at the hope upon seeing the Lupin that maybe...just maybe, he had found a thread that explained his situation. To have it dashed so quickly hurt in a way he hadn't expected...

He was surprised when her hand landed gently on his arm, her blue eyes meeting his with an understanding smile. “In the end, it doesn't change who you are. Even if they were the same.”

Bryn only nodded, softly, and she drew back her hand, tail flicking behind her, and for a moment he watched it from the corner of his eye, and offered her a small glimpse of his thoughts. “Abundant… What a shock that would be to see them on a battlefield.”

Silvia visibly shivered, shaking her head quickly. "No thank you. I think just one fighting for us is plenty." Which only brought a tired smile to Bryn's face.

[musesofawolf]

June 2026, Day 2

Disturbance - Kaleh’a Quickdraw

This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.

@daily-writing-challenge

TW: none

Spoilers: End of Heavensward into Stormblood

Hot. Far too hot. Where was the shade? The trees? The greenery!?

By the Twelve, this was where Bryn had grown up? No wonder he was always so broody! Kaleh’a couldn’t imagine it, the hardscrabble landscape of rocks and sand and mountains so different from the gentle rolling hills of the Shroud, all of which had trees and foliage and green everywhere! This place? This felt like the opposite of the Shroud. Which might be exactly why it acted as a natural barrier and end to the Shroud’s woods.

What it didn’t act as a natural barrier to was the Miqo’te’s adventurous nature and the hair-brained idea to scout ahead. Why had he raised his hand when the call for scouts had gone out? He had no idea! He wasn’t built for this flat and rocky terrain! He was used to trees, and climbing, and sneaking up on his enemies from the side or above or, on very few occasions, below! The only thing this windswept and nearly lifeless land was good for was seeing any Garlean at the same time they would see him. So he at least could watch his doom approach!

Or, well, not exactly.

He had a bow, and the wide open swaths of rocky sand actually offered him some incredible sight lines. In turn, given his training in spaces that required precision so something like a branch didn’t knock his arrow flight off, this space was just asking for him to try for a longest shot. As long as he got the wind right, it would be relatively easy, and since the mountains liked to block a good section wind, he could probably wait for it to die down and then loose an arrow. He had already spied some viscous looking vultures he could try it on, or rather large grizzly bears that had somehow adapted to the harsh climate. But neither of those creatures was why he was sitting atop this little knoll of sand looking out towards a creek.

According to the locals, they had dubbed it Mirage Creek, and he could see why. The water seemed to throw up a spray in the heat that made the rockface behind it shimmer and wave. He had grown bored watching the colors shift, and instead laid flat on his chest to track a wild dodo, idly watch it wander closer to the creek, disappear into the shifting mirage, and then…

Both of his blonde ears shot up in surprise as a small group of quickly moving, well garbed Ala Mhigan fighters appeared from seemingly nowhere. His eyes tracked the group as they stuck close to the creek and the walls of the cliff behind them, shifting his weight to keep his head pointing their direction while using his eyes as much as possible, until they were distant specs in the distance, and he shifted back to stare at the Mirage Creek.

Something was back there. Something, behind this shifting spray, was back there and harboring rebels. He had something to report! As he was shifting his quiver on his back, the sand around him jumped, or maybe more accurately quivered, and he froze, staring at it in surprise. He watched, waited, and then again, the sand trembled, grains falling down the knoll he was on, and in a moment of instinct, perhaps from his sand dwelling cousins who preferred the sun over the moon, he pressed an ear to the knoll and sand.

Steady, like a heartbeat, something was disturbing the sand, the land around him, with heavy, mechanical foot falls that set the sand dancing against the inner fur of his ear. It was something big, something Garlean made, and something he had no intention of sticking around to find out what it was, or how far it could see.

Filing away the new way to track in this foreign land, he picked himself up, turned, crouched, down and…sprinted like a bat out of the Seven Hells, sand and rocks kicking up behind him as his tail became a wind streamer behind him, all the way until he was safely back at the occupied Castrum Oriens, to breathlessly report, “I think I found it! I think I found the rebels! Does anyone have any water?”

[musesofawolf]

Day 7 - Drop

@daily-writing-challenge

To say the moments after that little experience was awkward would be...an understatement. Especially with Kaleh'a shooting Silvia questioning looks, Silvia barely able to look at Bryn, and Bryn...well, some bodies looked less pale than he did.

The only thing that really made noise as they trudged towards U'ldah together was the sand under their boots, the kind of heavy silence over the three of them that only strangers that knew too much could have. None of them wanted to broach the subject, and yet, to drop it felt wrong too. So they just walked, in silence, as they each bit their tongues in hope that someone else would speak first.

And true to form, Kaleh'a did first.

"That's it! I can't stand it!" He whirled, throwing his hands up in the air before pointing at Silvia with a half accusatory finger. "I saw the first time you used my last name! And felt why you did so! So, you were just trying to garner a bit of favor using a well established name?"

Silvia had halted, her feet sinking a little into the sand as she kept her head held low and shook her head. "No, not...I mean yes but..." She couldn't look up at the Miqo'te that was only a few inches taller than her, but the way her ears wilted, tail dipped into the warm sand, and couldn't look at him, it was obvious she felt bad. "You don't understand how hard it is to drop out of my tribe, to be alone."

Kaleh'a spluttered with indignation, eyes wide with disbelief and anger. "Don't know!?" His voice was incredulous, rising with each word. "Do you have any ide-"

"You're a Keeper!" She hurled it, like an insult, and then looked shocked at her own words, as her now fluffed out tail curled between her legs. "I...I mean your tribes are different. You can't know. It's not your fault."

For a long moment, he stared at her, his turquoise eyes matching the expressions across his face until it settled on befuddlement, and he blurted out, "Do you really think my mother's name is Quickdraw?"

Silvia blinked, and her mouth opened, and closed, and her tail uncurled from between her legs, and instead curled around her ankle. "Oh...you changed your name too."

"Yes." He sighed, and shook his head. "Look, we both clearly broke tradition in different ways, but to say I wouldn't understand?" His head shook vehemently. "You couldn't know what it was like to be a Keeper in Gridania. And I'm glad you didn't have to know."

Her ears had fallen back on her head, but they lifted slightly at his grumbled words of good faith. Or at least some sort of good will. "I hadn't really considered that," she admitted, and finally glanced up from her boots. "Why did you change your surname?"

"Same reason you dropped the M off the front of yours." He raised an eyebrow at her, and she didn't deny her previous tribal affiliation. "I wanted to be my own person. Not tied to a tribe or matron. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but I needed to be...me."

She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze more readily now. "Yes, exactly! So you do get it!"

He held up a hand quickly, both his ears going flat atop he head as he shook it violently. "No I do not! You dropped your tribe just to take my chosen name! How is that being you?"

"Because you were the one who inspired me to leave my tribe!"

"I inspired y - what!?" Kaleh'a's eyes were wide again, and his mouth was agape as she nodded wildly.

"I heard about you! A Miqo'te who made a name for himself! I hadn't even considered it was possible outside of a tribe, but then your stories just kept growing and I left to go to where you got your start, and when the Wood Wailers asked me my name I blanked and panicked and just chose the name of the man who had got me to dream bigger! You!"

Kaleh'a could only stare as the words spilled from her mouth, at some point his own mouth closing as he swallowed hard, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of one of his ears as he mumbled, "I...really don't know what to say to that..."

"I can drop the name!" She blurted it out without really thinking, and Kaleh'a surprised her by immediately yelping back.

"No!" The two stared at each other in mutual confusion from their own responses, before Kaleh'a sighed. "Look, for better or for worse, it's your name now too. And people aren't going to confuse us. So...you can keep it." He snorts, and shakes his head. "It's not like I had a claim to it anyways."

Her eyes light up, and the next second she's hugging him, Kaleh'a as stiff as a board as she tearfully gets out, "Thank you," before she releases him and steps back, wiping at her eyes. Which is when she noticed Bryn had kept walking.

Kaleh'a follows her gaze to the Hyur plodding through the sand, and he sighs heavily, heading after him in short little bursts of jogging, as Silvia keeps up easily while peppering him with questions.

"Is he okay?"

"He will be." The archer slid down a dune as the dragoon behind followed his example.

"He seemed...broken."

"Likely because," he paused, and then glanced back at Silvia, waiting until she was abreast with him in their walk to catch back up. "Likely because you just witnessed the literal worst day of his life that he never wanted anyone else to have to experience or see."

She fell silent for a long moment, and then whispered, "That was my first Echo."

"Likely not your last. But I doubt they will get much worse than that." And that was enough to make her shudder, resolving to knock Bryn out of his mood with a flying hug and apology once they caught up.

[musesofawolf]

Day 6 - Echo

@daily-writing-challenge

A note: The Echo is a gift, one that allows those with it to resonate with other people's souls - and see their past. Not all see it as a gift, though.

----------

He looked so...small.

It was an Echo, Bryn knew it was, because it came with that out of body feeling, the weird experience of feeling everything but not being there. He hated it, but the moment he and Kaleh'a had found her, all three of their eyes had grown wide as they were thrown headlong into experiences not their own.

This had to be Kaleh'a. Standing there, bow pulled back, staring down the charging boar like he wasn't fulms away from getting gutted. He didn't flinch, he didn't dodge, he didn't do a damn thing but release the arrow like he had a thousand times before.

And Bryn could feel it. The grim determination as the little Miqo'te became the target, rather than the slowly catching fire carriage and injured guard defending it.

The way the beast dropped, fell, arrow between its eyes, came with a flood of so much relief and pride, that Bryn felt the warmth in his own chest from it. It felt good, vindicating, like he had just achieved something that before was a struggle. And now, that barrier was gone.

Gone as quick as the vision disappeared from Bryn's mind, leaving him disjointed and feeling sick to his stomach.

He hunched over, gagging, falling to one knee as he took heavy, deep breaths, shuddering with each one as he re-oriented himself with his real surroundings, the sand between his fingers, the blazing sun on his back, and the sound of a stifled, muffled sob. And Kaleh'a, mumbling absently, "So that's why you chose my name."

Eyes lifting, slowly, up over a blonde tail, up over a lightly armored figure, across blue eyes swimming with tears, and finally catching a hint of a purple bow holding back her long, blonde hair. His gaze dropped back to her eyes, to the tears falling down her cheeks, and he knew, even before she said the words, what she had seen.

"How..." Silvia choked out, falling to her knees, a hand reaching out, and pulling back, second guessing herself as she whispered. "How did you survive that? How does it not...break you?"

Silver eyes slid closed, and his head dipped, hung, heavy on his shoulders, too much to lift until he slowly forced it back up, forced it up until he could look into her eyes, and whisper right back. "I don't know."

And Kaleh'a, staggering slightly, before giving the two an odd look and plopping into the sand beside them. "What the hell did you two even see?"

Neither had a good answer.

[musesofawolf]

June 2026, Day 5

Prey - Silvia “Quickdraw”

This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.

@daily-writing-challenge

TW: none

Spoilers: Stormblood main story

“Between the two of you, I expected you to be the more green.”

Silvia glanced up, brushing a lock of her hay blonde hair that had escaped its braid and purple bow, her sky blue eyes twinkling as Bryn leaned on the rails of the ship, the sea breeze misting her face as her gaze traveled further along the rails to where the real Quickdraw was hunched over the railing. He did, in fact, look rather green, even with Alisaie patting his back. She could only shrug, adjusting the spear on her back as she took a deep breath of the fresh sea air.

“I don't know what to say,” her voice happy as she let out the breath in a wispy sigh. “It's my first time on a boat, but it feels…natural!”

The rumbling chuckle from Bryn carried even over the splash of waves against the hull, his green coat flapping in the wind as her close fitting leather armor and over shirt didn't leave much for the wind to grab. In fact, the only thing that really caught the wind was her braid and skirt, and the skirt wasn't long enough to really whip, nor frilly enough to blow up. “I’m going to say it’s all the bouncing and jumping you do with that spear,” turning to lean his back against the railing.

He looked at ease, and she marveled at that, watching the way his body swayed with the waves, not fighting the motion, and not lilting like Kaleh’a did when trying to stand up. Even when she sometimes staggered with a big wave, Bryn just rode it out without a wayward shift of his weight, and she found herself gawking. Gawking enough that he noticed and gave her a wry grin.

“I was a Marauder, you know. This is second nature to me.”

“Oh! You are from Limsa?” She tilted her head, curious, tail flicking behind her and helping to stabilize her a little, her curiosity only growing as Bryn shook his head.

“Not from, just where I ended up. Honestly, it feels weird not having an axe on my back and on a ship…” She caught the way he changed the subject, and she respected that, knowing that there were some deep wounds there. She had seen a glimpse of it, just a glimpse, and if he had wound up in Limsa from somewhere else…

“Ala Mihgo,” she whispered, and his silver eyes flicked towards her before he nodded simply. They fell silent, Silvia watching the waves, Bryn the rigging, and Kaleh’a heaving up the contents of his stomach down the way. She grimaced, turning her head towards Bryn to avoid the sight, and asked, “Do you think it will work? You know, splitting their forces, making them fight here and in Doma?”

There was a long silence, before those silver orbs closed and he sighed. “Maybe. It might just work, so long as we can convince Doma to actually fight. It’s a risk, but a calculated one.” His lips quirked upward slightly. “Alphinaud is good at those.”

“Well good to know. Glad I decided to join up!”

“Mmm, we need every hand we can get.”

“I still feel like we are making ourselves a target.”

That got a grunt from Bryn, and her ear flicked at the unusual sound. “I don’t think you are wrong…it feels almost like we are prey…”

“Maybe we are,” she said, glancing at Kaleh’a before smiling. “But if a certain hunter is right, prey are most dangerous when they are cornered.”

“And we are definitely cornered.” He chuckled, tilting his head back, his black hair tousled by the wind, before he abruptly murmured, “You never told him what you saw.”

Silvia knew instantly what he meant, her expression softening as she reached back, grabbing her braid and pulling it forward, running her fingers over the tightly woven hair. “It didn’t seem like my place to.” Her voice was almost reverent, although the look she got had her sheepishly glancing away from the eyes that very clearly said Don’t you dare start with that.

“Either way…thank you. I appreciate you keeping it a secret.”

“Well it was that or risk your claws,” she teased, and he let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh so it’s just fear keeping you in line?”

“No,” she admitted, her smile bright. “I also like knowing something he doesn’t.” And that only drew more laughter from the Hyur beside her.

[musesofawolf]

Day 1 - Calculate

No one really considered how much went into making sure a shot went where you wanted, where you aimed. With a bow, it was all aim and shoot. A gun? Anyone could do it. At least, for the first fifty or so fulm. Then it became something different, something a skilled archer or shooter could do in their head, but that anyone without the knowledge would miss.

Kaleh'a felt the familiar slide of the arrow against his bow, the smooth wood of the guide rasping as he pulled back the knocked shaft, all the way until the feathers tickled his cheek, the string pressed against the corner of his mouth. His form was perfect, his target a speck in the distance, almost two hundred fulm from where he stood, and yet unmoving. It was always easier to hit an unmoving target. He took a slow, deep breath, raising his arm, setting the angle for the shot...

Bryn lay on the ground, flat on his stomach, rifle nestled against his shoulder left eye closed, right eye open and peering through the sight picture, the raised, sliding thing new to him, but if it worked the way it was described... The target hovered in the center of the reticle, his breathing slowing, deep and long, then squeezed slowly around the trigger...

With twin exhales, the twang of the bow and crack of the rifle followed in rapid succession, the superheated ball of aether zipping through the air so fast that one second, the humanoid wood target was there, and the next it disintegrated with the sound of splintering wood as the entire thing exploded, leaving the top half missing as Bryn let out a soft sigh. A second later, both still watching, the arrow sailed from the air and slammed into the head of the second target, Kaleh'a pointing a finger like a gun at the target, pulling it back like he had just fired the imaginary weapon, and blew the non-existent smoke from the barrel finger. Bryn just shook his head in amusement.

"Nice shot," the older man rumbled out, rolling onto his side, then swinging into a sitting position, shouldering his rifle and glancing at the archer beside him. "Thought for a second you were aiming for the moon."

"Might as well have been!" Kaleh'a laughed, falling into a cross legged sit beside Bryn. "That's at about the edge of my accurate range. Felt good to hit it though."

Bryn nodded tapping his rifle and the new sight. "It's more impressive when you consider that you don't have a sight to aim with. It's all calculated in your head."

The Miqo'te shrugged, laying back and gazing up at the sky, dusted with the light of dusk. "Nah, I could put a sight on my bow too. I just...I prefer to be able to see exactly what I'm shooting at rather than specks in the distance."

Bryn hummed, shaking his head as he smiled softly. "Fair. Still. Impressive."

"You too, old man."

And the two fell into grumbling-laughing friendly banter.

@daily-writing-challenge

[musesofawolf]

February 2026, Day 2

Golden - Kaleh'a Quickdraw

This will be a connected, three person point of view surrounding the events of Baelsar's Gate in Final Fantasy XIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the cut when needed.

@daily-writing-challenge

How long ago was it that Kaleh'a had run across the Scions and accepted the position as their letter runner? How many times had he mounted Chic’let, his trusty chocobo, and set off at a sprint to deliver what they needed?

How many were as important as this?

All he could see was golden feathers before him, his white tipped blonde hair blowing in the wind, swept back at the speed of the wind whipping around Chic’let’s neck. He didn't need to see though, his steed knew where to go, and he didn't need to direct her. And it was like she could sense his urgency. An urgency that he really, really hoped wasn’t as bad as he thought it was.

A fwee, from Chic’let, her simple cry letting him know they were there, at their destination, where the small contingent of Maelstrom soldiers, by order of the Alliance, lay stationed near the wall separating Gyr Abania and The Black Shroud.

“Message! Message!” The young Miqo'te yelled, hand in the air as the guards at the camp entrance snapped to attention as he barreled past. “Baelsar’s Wall is under attack! Baelsar’s wall is under attack! Orders are to move and protect the Shroud! Do not let the fighting spill onto the civilians! Where's your commander?”

“Here.” Kaleh'a’s head turned, taking in the mountain of a man, missing an arm but still carrying himself with the air of practiced authority, easily recognizable as the Bull of Ala Mhigo. And beside him, a familiar, rugged face. He was off Chic’let, slapping the sealed missive into Flame General Raubahn Aldynn’s hand, who cracked it open as the camp came alive, and Brynhorn Fiske stood slightly behind him, reading over his shoulder.

He wasn't sure which of the two cursed, but Bryn was gone, barking orders towards the small detachment of Maelstrom scouts he undoubtedly held command of, while Kaleh'a took back the missive from Raubahn. He could see it, in his eyes, that anger, and something else. Something like hope.

“Messenger, do you have Menphina’s ear?” A reference to his goddess, who hung in the air above them, casting her pale light over them, and he nodded. “Then pray to her, for us all. There might just be a chance my homeland will no longer be cut off.”