#kel lin

[coreshorts]

Mine

Her mind turned again and again to the sight of the younger girl, slowly withering, her normally plump, hourglass figure starting to shrink, her eyes heavy with dark bags, porcelain skin almost ashen. When she felt her, it was was even worse. Her aether slowly draining away, she felt as though she was constantly slowly dying, something dark and vicious welling up within her to take her place.

The first time the shinobi had noticed her Moon begin to wane, she had frantically begun searching for answers. She needed options, ways to combat what was being done, that she could grasp and bring to bear against this panic-inducing problem. She was given a small number, some of which were far more preferable than the others.

Hali was forced to settle upon an option which was the best she could hope for in such short notice: She had been told by a close friend - an incredibly accomplished mage by name of Naoh Tayoon - that her best bet without outright killing the girl she had come to so adore was to obtain a charged Amdapori Wardstone. However, the ruins of Amdapor were heavily-guarded and access strictly forbidden. She, herself, had one, but it was not charged, and the only person who came close to knowing could not remember.

"...charge one...” Fiona had muttered over the private line, “I- I think I remember. Just- nnnh. I remember doing it. I don't remember how."

The only other solution would be to use an Onmyouji ritual which not only required multiple practitioners, but would cut the girl off from her aether use entirely - forever - even though it would mean that she could never be possessed again. It was beyond that last thing that Hali wished to do, and the half-elezen’s response chilled her blood.

"...we should keep it in mind. Just in case."

Thus, she turned to Naoh, who instructed her on where to search in the ruins to find Wardstones. She was, after all, not only a shinobi, but one of very high aether sensitivity, which would help her not only infiltrate the ruins, but potentially locate a stone, as well. Loathe to go alone, however, she brought her former teacher - her best friend and sister in the shadows - Kaori, seeking her help to sneak in and out while keeping one another safe.

It was a fortunate thing that she had. The ruins of Amdapor were crawling with horrible creatures. Due to the way the entrances and perimeter were guarded, the two were forced to take a back route through the abandoned keep in order to access the city. 

Though it was suspected that the keep ruins might hold what they sought, it was quite the opposite. The absence of long-established Amdapori artefacts of white magic to stave off the Mhachi void magic and wild beasts that roamed the area has left the entire structure to be overrun by the void in the wake of multiple attempts by the Lambs of Dalamud - some of whose reanimated corpses they had found, already slain - to summon their god back to the star.

Hali found it funny. If Dahlia truly was Dalamud incarnate - if she was some kind of god, they were all wasting their time. She almost thought to tell the mage upon her return, but not knowing her relationship with the cult, she assumed to likely be negative.

It was rough going after they’d fought their way through the maddened flora and fauna both, both of which fought them at every turn in the overgrown keep. She had visited once before, but it had never been quite as overgrown as it was then, she’d thought. By the time they reached the passage needed to slip through catacombs and into the city, Hali had wound up sick nearly twice due to the sheer amount of corrupted aether in some areas. Guarding the passage, they had even encountered a powerful voidsent who struck Hali as mildly familiar. A man she had met before, named Resh, who had been heavily voidtainted and even possessed, bore a very similar voidsent which could materialise separately from his body. Fortunately, the two shinobi made short work of most things in the keep, void included.

The passage put them right by the entrance to the city, and the two made their way down. Mould assailed their lungs, giant insects assailed their bodies, and doubt assailed Hali’s mind. The investigation of the keep had proven fruitless, but her initial scouting of the area around the Lost City had some promise. Deep within the city, she could feel something, and it was very close to what she sought. For a mercy, it had begun to rain, clearing much of the spores in the air, but bringing out insects much larger than either of the two Au Ra. However, they managed to dispatch most of them with ease, even having moments to admire some of those less hostile.

Despite their skills in combat, it was no easy task. In what Hali regarded, in hindsight, though not at that time, as a stroke of irony, Kaori had been assaulted by a massive moth - a creature almost resembling the guardian spirit of their village - and stuck down. Thankfully, Hali had managed to bring supplies enough to complement her admittedly-weak conjury, which, she had found, grew significantly easier and more potent in the ruins, which gave her some hope. Once Kaori was healed properly, her arm set and functional again, and Hali’s panic abated, they moved on.

Continuing deeper in, they were best by ever-increasing wonders. A seemingly-bottomless chasm surrounded them with platforms that connected with aethereal bridges, old wards still present, lingering from when their source stones were once in place, though nothing remained within them for them to protect. Hali’s hope grew again at that, and ,especially,when they found a host of voidsent and reanimated magi who had been attempting to breach a heavily-warded door. After having cleared them out, the two were able to set to work on breaching the door, themselves, seeming unaffected by its protecting wards.

What they saw on the other side was something akin to another world. Blissful, pure, and almost heavenly, they had found themselves in something akin to another world, constantly shifting ivory and gold pillar surrounding bridges and platforms that seemed to manifest from nothing. Sprites of pure light and torches of white fire that sang melodically lined the bottomless - and skyless - expanse of pure radiance.

The two shinobi found themselves almost unnaturally enraptured by the purity and bliss of it all, resolving themselves, one day, to return, though their aims were significantly different. Kaori wished to calm herself and to find inner serenity to better herself, but Hali found herself giggling at the thought of a pocket world created by mortals; it was her ticket to unlocking secrets that would allow her to shape reality to her whim, and she would, one day, have those secrets.

They, finally, reached what seemed to be a council chamber of sorts, empty of all things but a massive winged statue, armed with stone sword, shield... and three charged Wardstones - smooth, red, fist-sized stones that emanated a pure aether - set in its breast and behind both hands. In her excitement, Hali rushed in headlong, Kaori on her heels. The statue, like many others, was a gargoyle, enchanted by Amdapori magic, inset with Wardstones to make it effective against voidsent in the War of the Magi, she assumed. Fortunately, between their skill with ninjutsu, despite the stone being highly resistant to their poor blades, dinged and damaged from assaulting stone creatures, they managed to exhaust the statue’s animating magicks.

Prying the still-gleaming stones from the statue, Hali made one last attempt to contact Naoh, asking how to work the stones, and what she could do with three, rather than one. There was no response. Wherever they were in Amdapor, they were cut off entirely from the outside world. She and Kaori decided to beat a hasty retreat, vowing to return in the future in order to pursue their goals in that wondrous place.

When they neared the entrance to the Lost City, Hali’s heart jumped into her throat as a familiar presence became apparent in the patterns of aether around her: Dahlia. However, it was not simply her Moon. Her aethereal presence had all but winked out, and swirling about it in a writhing, chaos mass was the void-tainted aether of the voidsent that had possessed her, driving Hali to their task in the Lost City in the first place. Kaori and Hali immediately followed their shinobi instincts and made themselves scarce, watching the warped woman, clad in a strange outfit and mask, descend the stairs toward the landing where Hali has used her Vanishing jutsu to hide herself from him.

“Naras... wasn’t it? Come out...” the possessed woman crooned in an unmistakably male voice.

Hali’s heart pounded in her hiding spot. Dahlia’s form had shifted ever-so-slightly in the imbalance between her aether and that of her possessor. Her normally-mis-matched green and brown eyes had turned a deep red, one darker than the other, the edges dark and almost sunken. Her nails had grown into long, sharp claws, and she had a terrible, deathly pallor to her. The voice that came from her was not her own. It was Mirseleiris.

Securing the stones to herself as she frantically called Naoh for help over a linkshell that she knew Dahlia did not have, she was given an idea: all she had to do was get them close, so if she could grapple Mirseleiris, the stones would be able to do their work and suppress him, forcing him into stasis within Dahlia and giving her back her body and her control so long as they remained near. From time to time, she threw a small rock, skipping it on the stone stairs to make it seem as though she was sloppily fleeing further into the city. Fortunately, it seemed to distract the voidsent.

“[Kaori,]” she had said in Hingan over that same shell, “[I am going to do something very stupid. I am counting on you to back me up.]”

“[I will do what I feel is necessary,]” the other shinobi had said, adding, “[Trust me.]” Trust was something Hali had learned to put in Kaori. Though she could hardly trust the whole of the world - it was, after all, most assuredly out to get her in any way possible - she trusted Kaori to be able to handle things, every time.

Having slowly climbed atop the archway above the city’s entrance, she leaped from it, using a Shukuchi to rapidly get closer to Mirseleiris as he searched for her, taunting her. Arms wide, one Wardstone tied tightly to each of her palms and one affixed to the chainmail beneath her ningi, she attempted to embrace Dahlia’s possessed form, only to have the voidsent controlling her move her quickly away.

“Another new trick?” he crooned, then, realising what she had attempted to use, the proximity alone causing his head to spin, hissed, “Wardstones...”

Kaori, however, had been ready, and popped up from a ledge below the landing on which they had engaged Mirseleiris. Grabbing Dahlia’s ankles, she wrenched the Ishgardian’s legs from under her, causing the voidsent to tumble and temporarily release his grip on her. When she landed, it was Dahlia’s voice again, claws and eyes changing back slowly as Mirseleiris‘s presence faded.

However, when Hali straddled the girl, beginning to affix the Wardstones to her, she wound up in, she realised, a trap. Mirseleiris quickly took control of Dahlia again, one hand shooting forth to try and slash at her face and the other attempting to take her by throat. Thanks to Kaori’s quick reaction, smascking the first strike with the spine of her katana, the swipe only managed to tear part of Hali’ hood. However, the voidsent managed to take the heavyset Raen by the throat, choking her with vicious claws sinking into the skin at her neck.

Hali did everything she could not to lose control. It was chaos. It was fear. It was pain. It was rage. The thoughts had started to become murmurs, voices telling her what to do.

Kill her. Kill them both.

Knock her out.

Kill yourself.

She could hear Kaori, but no matter how she tries, she could not understand what she said amongst the din. Then, it got worse as a scream shook her very soul: Dahlia was screaming. Before her, Kaori had thrust the tip of her blade into the mage’s abdomen and drawn it clean, causing her to begin bleeding profusely.

“WHy... WOn’T... yoU... lEavE HeR?!” her body screamed in a disturbing dual voice, one belonging to Dahlia, the other to Mirseleiris, his grip slipping between the mageling’s intense pain and the Wardstones weakening him.

“W... why w- won’t... youhhhh...” Hali wheezed amongst the chaos and pain, before finally being released as Dahlia wrested control once more from her possessor. 

With the time the distraction gave her, she began fastening the second stone. The chaos in her head reached another crescendo as, Dahlia now fully in control and aware of her state, began screaming in agony again.

“Hali... Kel... help...! GahAHAhAHAhAhAHAHAAH!” she pleaded before Mirseleiris began to emerge again, mad dual-toned cackling beginning again, “She’s mine, mine!”

That tipped the scale in Hali’s head from fear to blind rage, and she screamed in response, “SHE’S MINE YOU WORTHLESS SHITSTAIN! SHE’S MINE! I’LL SODDING KILL YOU FOR THIS!” She couldn’t help, after the fact, remembering what she had yelled and how, deeply embarrassed at such melodrama, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mind was slipping, and fast.

“TheN If I cAn’T HAVe hER, I’Ll taKe hEr WIth mE!” the dual voice cackled maniacally, and the claws that had gone to Hali’s throat when, instead, to Dahlia’s poised to tear her own throat out in desperation.

Kaori had busied herself with activating pressure points and calling out to Dahlia, given Hali’s panicked and addled state, in order to try and help. At the same time, despite the start of a protestation from the other Raen, the hand holding the third stone rose, abandoning attempting to tie it to the girl’s choker, and came down hard on the side of her head, immediately knocking her out, as Hali, too, attempted a rather desperate manoeuvre, giving in to the voices as they screamed at her to do it, do it, do it, DO IT. 

Mirseleiris could tell what was coming and, instead of attempting to prevent it, lashed out one last time with claws and a kick, sending Hali reeling backward as not only did she gain two deep gashes across her nose and an eyebrow, she was hit in the death wound at her stomach, sending a massive cramp through her that caused her to lose her breath and fall over.

Silence, however, was the next sound, rain falling lightly upon the three, heavy breathing from them all following the struggle. Hali recovered just enough to carry Dahlia, and they managed to return to the Bountiful Chest. All three were in dire need of healing. Kaori’s arm was still in poor shape from the behemoth moth’s awful bites, and she had some minor wounds and inhalation of mould besides. Hali, too, suffered from inhaling the mould, though not as much, but the slashes across her face and puncture wounds around her neck required treatment. Dahlia’s were, thankfully, only superficial thanks to Kaori’s skill with her blade and proactive tactics, save for the concussion from Hali’s desperation.

Hali, once healed, could only lay in her bed in the medical ward and cry, her mind racing. They had done it. Dahlia could be safe - or even just relatively so while the stones were near or on her - until they had a more permanent solution. They had discovered in their hunt amazing things beyond description. Hali had a new lead into bettering herself, even to the point gaining the power to alter reality to her whim as she had seen done in Amdapor. Yet, she still could not stop panicking.

"Oh, gods, what did I do? She's going to hate me. This is all my fault... Fuck! Why did I say anything?! I knew he was listening! I shouldn't have done any of this... I should leave her alone, but... is she okay...?” she thought to herself on and off in a mad train of thought between bouts of panicked crying.

Slowly, eventually, once she had overheard that Dahlia had been healed and her concussion faded in the process, she shakily got up from her bed, sniffling, to move a few beds down toward hers. Silently padding across the floor on the other side of the curtain, she carefully climbed into the bed in which Dahlia slept. She curled up next to her and just cried, silent and shaking, almost afraid to touch her but still wanting to be close. Everything was still chaos. She needed something.

She’s not yours, you worthless creature; she is my Moon, and, with any luck, will always be mine.

[coreshorts]

Last

“My name is Hali Naras. I write this in the the hope that, should I not survive what is about to happen to me, that there is at least some memoir to survive me instead. If you are reading this, then I have, indeed, been killed.”

“I have many unanswered questions. I suppose, at this point, few of them really matter. Tonight, I go to face a trio of men, Immortals of Thavnair, that wish me dead. I have no choice in this. I will either be endlessly hunted, or I will challenge them to a duel of honour. If I win, they leave me be and forget I ever crossed their path. If I lose... my life is forfeit.

I am the only daughter of Ceta and Edoh’a of the Naras clan, both Keepers of the Moon. I, myself, was once one such miqo’te. I departed my clan at the age of sixteen, not wanted or suited for life among my peers due to my unique and troublesome disposition, despite my talents.

I have spent much of my life wandering, searching for meaning. I have been a conjurer, an arcanist, a Blue Mage, and a shinobi. I write this now as the latter. I am survived by my parents, by my cousin, Dail’a, by my cat, Finn, and by my teacher and most cherished friend, Kaori, among many others.

To my parents, I am sorry. I tried my very best to be everything you saw in me. I wanted to be the perfect daughter. I failed you both. I know you love me all the same, and I am sorry to speak so poorly of myself before I go to my death. Know, though, that I love you both and wish that I were at least able to say goodbye.

To Dail’a, I wish I had gotten to spend more time with you. You have brought out both the best and the worst in me over the years, but most of all, you have helped me where few others would or could. Thank you. I wish I knew what that haunted silence was when we spoke of the Calamity. I suppose I will never know, now, but I hope that it is something from which you can move on in time.

To Finn, I know nothing I write will truly be understood, but I love you as I would my own child. I am sorry to leave you and wish I didn’t have to. I hope Dail’a takes good care of you. I know he loves you, too. You’re his little buddy. Be good for him.

To Kaori, I truly am not sure what to say. All the words that I could never actually speak are more or less worthless now. I know that what we meant to one another was beyond typical bonds, but this is my last and only chance to say it, so I will write it here: I love you. Maybe it isn’t "love” as it’s commonly understood, and I doubt it’s the kind one would expect when hearing this, but you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and the only person for whom I’ve ever felt this strongly. You’ve done so much for me, and I there has been so much I wanted to do for you. Please take care of yourself. I am sorry I couldn’t get to see our village - our home - to its rebirth, but I know you can get it there. Please don’t give up. You know I wouldn’t, nor would I ever want you to. I want you to be happy, whatever it takes.

To everyone else, all I can really say is thank you. You’ve all tolerated me, befriended me, shown me patience and understanding, given me more chances than I could have deserved in a thousand lifetimes, and opened up so many doors for me. I’m sorry that I’ve let you all down. I wanted to be something great, even if it was just for myself. I’m sorry to have wasted the chances I was given. I hope you can all move on and forget me soon enough. I know it’ll be better that way. I’m sure no one will miss my constant stuttering, rambling, panicky nonsense or my penchant for losing my mind entirely when I get stressed. I am sorry to have tested the patience of those around and close to me time and time again with my problems. I tried to be better. I tried so hard.

I have a lot of questions yet, and some regrets, as well. Perhaps, one day, someone may find the answers I sought. I never quite figured out the nature of my extraordinary sense for aether. I regret not having learned to control it or keep it from controlling me. I never found out what had happened to me in the year or more after the Calamity, though I don’t know if I ever could have learned that. I never quite found out the name of the Raen girl with the single horn, and I regret never getting to meet her. I wish I’d have never let my nerves get the best of me those times we ran into one another, but if I am dead, then it’s probably for the best. I regret never getting to settle the score between myself and Maximillian Crawford. I hope he gets his just desserts for all the wrongs he’s done to people like me.

I owe a lot of my good material fortune to the Crawford brothers and having been in their employ. Though we didn’t always see eye-to-eye, Anthony was a very good employer. I will always, however, hate Maximillian for his constant torment, both physical and emotional. All the same, what I leave behind is, to my knowledge, not insignificant.

All of my money - gil or otherwise - is to go to Kaori. My notebooks are to be burned. Finn will go into Dail’a’s care. All other possessions can be discussed between my parents, Dail’a, and Kaori. Any insurance payments on behalf of the Crawfords can be made to Kaori.

I will miss you all. Please try to move on. Don’t avenge me. Don’t start a war over me. Please forget about me. I’m not worth your grief anymore. I proably never was in the first place.

~Hali”

With a ragged sniffle, a sleeve came up to wipe at her eyes. Daylight was breaking over the Rasen Kaikyo and peeking through the trees surrounding the village. She hadn’t slept all night. Instead, she had accumulated a wastebasket full of crumpled up goodbye letters which had begun overflowing onto the floor of her room. She would need to burn them all before she left.

Sniffling again as she read the letter over and cried softly to herself in anxiety, she tried to keep her breathing steady. Her mind wouldn’t allow it. Two teardrops impacted the letter, fortunately, in a margin, before she folded it and sealed it in an envelope with wax and a small length of twine, tied into a bow before leaving it on her desk in her room in plain view.

She sat back at her desk and, finally, just allowed herself to cry. The sun was up properly by the time she was done, having gone to her bed to curl up, alone. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep, the exhaustion from stress, fear, and impending doom eventually overtaxing her.

Her dreams were wracked with anxious nightmares of malm-high tsunamis everywhere she turned, arcing ominously over her head. Should she escape one, another would come, wiping out the islands beaches until she, peering out of the window in her room, gazed fearfully up at one last massive wave. As it descended with a deafening silence, she felt its weight crush every last bone, forcibly eject the air from her lungs, and send her spinning into the lightless oblivion under the sea.

She woke up and found herself screaming in terror. Her dreams, though they were no longer haunted by the Immortals’ “beast within” which fuelled her magic previously, were still twisted into terrors by her anxiety. Pulling herself from her bed’s comforts, she staggered, shaking, toward her teapot to begin heating it. Some minutes later, she poured herself another cup of lavender tea.

It was nearly a bell later by the time she realised she’d slept most of the day away; it was a mere three bells before the duel with Varajahl, Habraheem, and Ghayaraan. The Immortals would be waiting for her, she knew, and with them, an audience of people to, at best, support her, or at worst, watch her die.

After she had finally calmed herself, she set to sitting cross-legged before her window, staring out into the trees as she focused, lavender incense lit to either side of her to keep her calm and focused. After several long breaths, she made four hand signs, one quickly after the other: Hogo, Shonin, Fuwa, Tsuihou. Protection, Witness, Discord, Banish. These four mudra were not a typical for shinobi, meant more for onmyoji priests. However, she had needed to learn it quickly during a venture. A stroke of curiosity led her to discover that it could not only seal and purify evil, but the “beast” as well. Her morning routine had come to include this ritual, and she held the mudra that executed the jutsu, holding the power within her and directing it further inward.

When she first began doing it, out of curiosity and desperation more than anything, the “beast” had screamed. It tore at her mind and soul in retaliation and sent her into fits of existential agony. As time went on, however, she got better at the jutsu itself and the beast weakened. By that afternoon, some weeks later, she had suppressed it almost entirely, her soul mending where the awful presence was once absent. It would take some team before she could fully heal something so intangible and important, but it would be worth it.

As she held the jutsu, she felt her own aether shimmer and contort as it was scoured of evil presence. There was no screaming, no pain, no existential agony. The “beast” had been starved and subdued for so long, it was barely noticeable any longer. Even Varajahl had mentioned that at that rate, it would likely die out completely. Though it left an odd vacancy within her, she had begun to feel better and more herself day by day.

By the time she was dressed and ready to leave, it was just two bells before the duel. The sun was already setting, and she had little time for a potential last meal. She stopped in Kugane for a bite to eat, though it was light, and then moved on to the Ruby Sea for warm-up exercises. It was there, on that islet where she had spent so much time training to make herself better, that she remained until the last half-bell remained, and she left her training ground behind her.

All she could hope was that this night would not be her last.

[coreshorts]

Ghost

Hidden from prying eyes, in a nook atop the deck of a merchant ship stopped in the Rasen Kaikyo, sat a hooded Raen, blue eyes focused on a small rowboat that crossed the Hingan sea to a small island. Deep currant purple was her colour of choice, her hood, over-shirt, boots, and all matching, hidden beneath a cloth tarp on the vessel’s deck. Blond and silver locks of hair were tucked inside, framing a rounded, almost cherubic face, though dark maroon lips turned downward in a thoughtful frown.

The isle was wooded, and above its low canopy, rooftops were visible. The rowboat made landing upon a small dock and the man occupying it departed with a small payload: a cut of profits for the trader that lived on and owned the small island home. Heading for the dock, she sought out to steal away in another of the ship’s rowboats once there were none to watch and made her way around the side of the island.

Hali had stood before her mentor, her best friend in all of Hydaelyn, Kel Lin - Kaori - after yet another training session. She had managed to impress the other Auri woman with a rather daring, if reckless, manoeuvre in dodging balls thrown at her to practice evasion. They had finished, and, she was told, it was time for her first trial: a true mission worthy of a shinobi.

“There's a scroll you must obtain, from people that would like to keep it from you. I can tell you who has it: a wealthy Hingan merchant by the name of Takeda,” Kel had explained, “He recently acquired the scroll after it passed through a number of hands in trade. You must get it, and you must not read it. You must not even open it. The how, the where, and everything else... Is up to you.”

It had been a long few days. She had become Naeuri no Katsu, the songstress from Doma, again, and spent two days flitting from bar to restaurant, offering her services as a performer or simply spending time relaxing, all the while eavesdropping on other merchants about this Takeda. Much was said, but what stood out to her was that he was known, so she began to trace her way through public records or sneak her way through those less-so. Eventually, it led to a ship that had only just made port, offloading textiles and drink.

The ship itself only ever off-loaded in Kugane, and so she stowed away, hidden cleverly in a space not often checked with another nearby in case she had to move. She left “Katsu” in Kugane, proceeding as herself, her currant purple adventurer’s armour protecting her body, her shirt’s hood and a stolen Imperial filtration mask protecting her identity.

Eventually, the ship arrived in Bukyo, where the crew departed shortly to begin the process of swapping out and loading new goods for trade. During this time, she managed to steal away with the ship’s manifest. Having worked in Ul’dah under the Crawfords, she knew how she could find the merchant: follow the money. Soon enough, she found it. Though much was kept in circulation, buying low, selling high, and increasing profits ever-higher, at the end of each week or when a threshold of net profit was reached, an overseer would depart for a small island while the trade ship made a short detour, anchoring just off the coast.

After dragging her rowboat up into the treeline and covering it to keep it hidden, she made her way to the outer wall of the estate, climbing one of the nearby trees and making herself comfortable, hidden in the foliage while she observed. A large outer wall, likely about twice as tall as she was, surrounded the outside with only one clear entrance: the front. A long outer building at the edge of the wall surrounded the three-story pagoda in the centre, all of it appearing to be of traditional Hingan design, the outer building all screens and sliding doors and the wall and inner pagoda bearing sloped, tiled roofing. The bottom of the pagoda, like a large, open-air lobby, was open on all sides. 

From where she watched, she spied multiple guards roaming the grounds, as if already watching for intruders. That, she thought, boded ill already. All were dressed in fabrics, but carried katanas, marking them, likely, as hired samurai. Two were at the gate, likely more for meeting - or in her case, turning away - would-be visitors, about four more roamed the stone paths about the courtyard, and yet four more practised their blade work in a small training area within the courtyard proper. Ten guards, she counted. They changed shifts, it seemed, every two hours. Two came from inside the second floor of the house as two entered, the guards at the gate switching as well. Those on the grounds staggered with the others, switching every two bells, but on a bell’s difference to keep them moving.

She pondered how to approach. The wall itself would be a poor choice: it was featureless and tall, requiring tools to climb on either side, in all likelihood, and getting over the top would make her stand out clearly. Even if she used vanishing dust, a grapple or rope would make her ascent too obvious. However, the only other way would be through the front, and past the two guards. How to do that, however, would be the question. She couldn’t wait for them to switch shifts at the gate. It was too open. She had to find another way around.

Climbing down from her vantage point, Hali sneaked her way around the perimeter of the wall, slowly and silently, observing the trees near it, the top of the wall, stopping when she got to another side of the estate to observe from that angle. Around the opposite side from where she had first approached, she found her answer: a nearby tree - small, yet sturdy, leaned precariously close to the wall, its branches obscuring the area directly over the wall, only a spare few fulms above its roofing. The corner of the estate itself seemed less-watched from what she could see. The chef’s quarters were just on the other side and she could drop down behind it. It’d been just over four bells that she’d been watching and pondering, and dinner was beginning. One chef had just left to convene with the other for that very purpose, and so the quarters would be empty.

With a bit of haste, she began to climb the smaller, leaning tree, keeping herself as steady and light on her hands and feet as possible. Given its size, if she went too quickly, it would shake, giving away her position. Once just over the wall, she applied vanishing dust to herself and dropped down. With a poof of the small clay ball in her hand as it cracked, she became little more than a shimmer for a precious moment, the clay shards discarded behind her. By the time she hit the dirt with a soft thud, it had worn off, but that was enough. Waiting for the sound of approach, she began to make her way into the chef’s quarters.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she remembered Kel’s words, "This will test you. If you end up in a fight, something has gone wrong. No great beasts to slay, or people to stab. In fact. You are not to kill anyone.” That made this difficult. She knew why that was important, and relished the challenge, but it made things stressful. She was to be a ghost, in and out without notice, without touching a single person. That was the plan, and she was going to stick to it.

The chef’s quarters were humble: just a few tatami mats, a bed, some personal effects, and necessities. It was simple, and there was, Hali felt, a charm to it all the same. She took a breath from behind her mask, however, and made her way to the other side, cracking the white screen door just enough to peer out, obscured by the darkness within the room. 

One of four guards passed on his way around the courtyard. From here, she had a clear view of the lower level. The kitchen and lounge areas of the main building were down below, and the smell of rice, fish, and vegetables filled the courtyard, reminding the would-be-shinobi of how hungry she was and causing her to exhale sharply. The next problem presented itself clearly. The four guards on patrol were spaced evenly, each watching down their own part of the paths in the courtyard surrounding the building, and all four had a constant view not only of the entire bottom floor, but through to the other side. Minimal furniture also meant minimal cover. She would have to make her way through the kitchen and avoid the chefs, who were now both busy with dinner preparations.

Waiting for a chance, she shot across the courtyard, low, silent, and quick, and darted behind a counter in the kitchen. These provided her with her best cover, but not for long. The chefs, as she knew from personal experience, though focused fully on their work, were likely quite mindful of their space. She had to keep out of sight; they would likely notice her even before the sharp-eyed samurai surrounding the building. The kitchen itself was beneath the stairs leading to the second floor. She would have to duck around the stairs and ascend before being noticed. With only two more applications of vanishing dust, she couldn’t risk it. She simply had to be quick.

Darting out from her cover once one of the guards passed behind her, she slipped out into the foyer beside the stairs, watching the guard on her side of the mansion pass by with his back to her. The next one would be coming, though, and very soon. Though it was not great cover, there was a large vase with decorative flowers to either side of the stairwell leading up to the second floor. She ducked behind it and waited, making herself as small as possible. In the nook, she was out of side of all but the next guard should he look directly to his left. Fortunately, as the guard passed, his eyes focused before him. She began to scoot the vase out, little by little, until she could slip around behind it and up the stairs.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she slowed to a stop, keeping low once she was out of sight of those below, her heart jumping into her throat. She found herself, at the top, face-to-heel with a guard as he patrolled the second level, pacing past the stairs in his rounds. With a silent gulp to clear the lump in her throat, she slowly eased into a corner beside the stairs to watch the man depart. Peeking out after him, calming herself from the near-miss, she looked out in either direction. Windows lined the hall, all white and opaque, but coloured orange from the setting sun. To her immediate right, a sliding door caught her attention, and, as the guard rounded the corner and disappeared, she softly slid it open and ducked inside the room.

The room was clearly, from the moment she silently shut the door behind her, a library. Various shelves stood proudly, stacked to the ceiling with books, all in Othard’s native languages, but mostly in Hingan.

“Hm?” came a decidedly male voice from around one of the shelves, causing Hali’s heart to jump back into her throat when the man spoke in Hingan, “Now who might that be? Takeda-san?” Footsteps began to pace on the hard wood of the library floor with the clacking of geta, leaving the intruding Raen to scramble for cover behind one of the neighbouring shelves.

“Huh,” came the voice again, sounding puzzled. The man opened the door to peek out into the hall, and Hali wound her way further into the library. She had to find a spot to hide until this man - Takeda’s advisor, Tadayori she presumed - left. A trio of desks atop a large tatami mat, arranged along three of its sides, sat before her. One in particular had a small lamp lit, and a book stood open upon it. She heard no footsteps and saw no one round the corner, so she scanned through the book, crouching low to the desk so she could read it.

It was nothing of importance, unfortunately, appearing to be some kind of ledger for Tadayori’s own transactions, some of the ink still drying. He must have, she figured, been perusing the library while he waited for it to dry. The footsteps began again, and she ducked behind another bookshelf, crouching low. Fortunately, the man was easy to track. A very tall male Raen with a severe but weathered expression rounded the corner as she watched him from the other side of a shelf in the gap above a number of books. He didn’t notice her, instead kneeling down at the desk to check his ledger. With a sigh upon finding it still drying, he opened a book and began to read.

The next moments were excruciating. However, Tadayori’s attention was called away at the sound of a bell being rung. Dinner was served. He shut his ledger and made for the door. Hali remained until she heard the door open and shut again. She was alone, and all but the guards on duty, she presumed, would be gathering for dinner in the lounge downstairs.

Opening the sliding door again, she peered down the hall to see a guard standing at the top of the stairs, staring down them with a hawkish gaze, likely after someone. He took two steps forward and nodded silently when another, younger, voice spoke to him from what sounded like the stairs. One of Takeda’s sons, the girl surmised. She used the momentary distraction to her advantage and rounded the corner, sneaking off and around the hall. As she approached the other side of the building, she found the other guard, standing still as a statue, his gaze panning left and right as he stood before a door beside the next flight of stairs, likely, she thought, to be a vault or treasury of some kind. She’d need to find a way in there.

For the time being, however, she needed to focus on getting out of sight. The guard’s gaze was slowly moving toward her, sandwiching her between the guard who would be approaching her from behind very soon. She pulls back around the corner, waiting and listening. Voices came from below, all from Takeda, his sons, and Tadayori. She couldn’t be certain of the guard had begun moving again, yet. A moment more, however, and the beginnings of his silhouette passed into view. When he turned to peer down the corridor, however, Hali had made herself scarce, having ducked around the corner and into where the next guard had been looking just moments before. Her luck was still with her, and she avoided his peripheral vision as she crept silently along the hall, slipping up the next flight of stairs.

While she waited, she figured, she could at least investigate the rooms on the third floor. Those rooms, upon quick investigation, belonged to Takeda, Tadayori, and Tadeka’s three sons, all bearing purely-wooden sliding doors with no screens, and rather out-of-place-looking modern locks. She headed first for Takeda’s room, hoping that, should it not be in the treasury, the scroll would be in his room. She tried the door, and found it locked. She silently cursed her luck and began looking for a lock to pick until she heard a voice.

“Yes, yes, I will return in a moment! Patience,” echoed a chuckling voice up the stairs. Takeda was coming, and she needed to hide. She ducked into the first room next to his, belonging to one of his sons. The door slid open and she slipped through before leaving it open just a crack to watch. The man walked past, whistling merrily, before using a key to unlock the door to his own room. Minutes went by as she listened to footsteps in the next room, and then, the whistling audible again, the door slid open and shut once more, geta clacking on the floor again as he walked down the hall until, descending the stairs, he was gone.

Hali slipped out of the son’s room, closing the door, and began the task of picking the lock to the room and making her way in. The door closed behind her and she was met with a surprisingly simple room for a wealthy merchant. Though there were some decorative displays, there was little that would show the man’s opulence or wealth. It looked comfortable, but nothing was too extreme. Within moments, however, her eyes fell on her prize: a sealed scroll sat in a case, held by a large suit of traditional samurai armour that stood in a recessed area behind Takeda’s desk. With quick steps and a keen eye to make sure there were no traps to spring, she set forth to pluck the scroll from its case.

She had expected as much when the case proved to be locked. She didn’t expect, however, for Takeda to make a second return. Geta clacked down the hallway again, and her heart skipped a beat in panic. As the door opened, she had nowhere else to hide but behind the armour, mimicking its stance perfectly, arms tucked behind her back. It was to her benefit that the armour’s helm was wider than the fin-shaped horns on either side of her head.

“...I know I did not forget to lock my door. Who is there?” the man demanded with a bit of anxiety to his voice. He began to pace around the room, causing Hali to purse her lips, eyes wide behind her mask as she palmed another clay ball of vanishing dust.

Footsteps approached the armour and then silence reigned for what felt like bells, days, months, even eras before, with a huff, the footsteps began to depart again as the man muttered, “I am getting too old for this...” The door opened, shut, and clicked as Hali found herself locked in. At least it would provide a little extra warning than her carelessness had left her the last time. She slipped out from behind the armour very carefully and began the work of picking the lock on the scroll’s display case. Popping it open, she tucked it safely into her satchel and closed the case again.

The hardest part, now, would be leaving. The treasury, tempting as it might have been, was not only a bad stop, but expressly forbidden by Kel. She was to take the scroll and nothing more. But how to get out? The son’s room beside Takeda’s was at the back of the house, and she could slip out onto the roof from there. At the back of the house, she wouldn’t be seen now that the sun had set, and so it was that she made her way toward it, unlocking Takeda’s door from the inside and shutting it, unlocked again, but only for lack of ability to lock it from the outside. She shot into the previous room, and opened the large shuttered window before easing out onto the roof and shutting it again behind her.

From here, she could begin to climb down the ornate building, and so she did, though only to the second level’s slanted roof. Crouching down, she waited, listening to the voices below and the light of a lantern causing the opaque windows of the second floor to glow softly as the guard passed where she remained crouched, blissfully unaware of her presence on the other side.

Eventually, the sound of dishes being cleaned ceased, and the cook staff returned to their rooms in the outer building. The family sounded to remain in the area below for a time, chattering on and enjoying themselves. The guards in the courtyard began to change shifts, some heading off to sleep while others began their own rounds. If she was fast, she could drop down and duck back into the kitchen. The stairs would shield her from the family’s attention, so she would only need to concern herself with the guards. Peeking over the edge, she watched as the next came around the corner. 

She’d watched this one round the corner several times, now. His  She would need to land as lightly and as quickly as possible. His eyes were somewhat sunken and his gaze dim. He looked tired; she knew the look well, given she often wore it, herself.

As the samurai passed, Hali dropped off of the stone roof and onto the path below with a soft thud of boots on stone before immediately ducking back into the entrance to the kitchen, just in time for the guard to stop and turn. However, he was slow and not fully alert enough to catch the blur of movement that ducked into the kitchen. To Hali’s benefit, he was also in a sour enough mood to simply grunt in annoyance, rub his eyes and turn to continue his patrol, apparently too tired to care. 

Once the next guard walked past, she darted out behind him and made her way to her last and worst obstacle yet: getting back over the wall. The tree had helped her in, but it would not be helping her get back, and she cursed herself for not realising this earlier. Hiding behind the chefs’ quarters in the darkness between them and the wall, she pondered silently to herself. Attempting to scale the wall would take too long and would get her spotted. She could slip around to try getting out the front, but she would need a way past the guards there. Worst yet, she only had so much time before Takeda returned to his room and raised the alarum when he found his new display piece missing. She was trapped until she could figure out another way.

Eventually, she realised, there really was no good way out. She left herself with no route of escape. Kel had intended this as a lesson in and of itself, and she had learned a good deal, she felt, from those few slip-ups, and especially now that she found herself trapped by her own lack of foresight. Reaching for the rope in her satchel, she attached a clawed grapnel to to the end, tying it off tightly and tossing it for the tree from before. With a slow tug, she tested its strength. Silence for the moment was her sign that no one had seen, yet.

She quickly ascended the wall after watching the guards for a moment more. The tree shook, leaves rustling softly in the darkness, but no voices came, and no footsteps approached. The lack of light, for the time being, was on her side, so long as she didn’t make too much noise. As she climbed, she coiled her rope behind her to keep from leaving a trail and so that she could yank the grapnel free and hop down to the other side.

As she crested the wall, a lantern lit one of the chefs’ rooms, the opaque screen glowing a soft yellow, briefly and just barely illuminating her as she yanked her grapnel free and jumped off of the other side of the wall, leaving the tree rustling a little again in the dim light.

“What was that?” Hali heard someone ask, and she swore silently. She began to creep her way around the wall again, quickly, as footsteps approached the other side of the wall to investigate. Her rowboat was on the other side of the island, thankfully. By the time the alarum was raised as Takeda found his scroll missing, she was already rowing on the long trip back toward Kugane. It wasn’t perfect, but she did it, and the scroll was secured. Pride made her grin, even though she knew she could’ve done better.

She hadn’t needed to lay a hand on anyone, and with more practice, she would be like a ghost.

[coreshorts]

Upward

Beads of sweat dripped onto a sleeveless training shirt practically soaked with the same. The sound of waves breaking again the rocks below echoed up, but was drowned out by the sound of belaboured breathing, panting, controlled, yet exhausted. Her arms stung and shook, leather gloves battered and rough, boots looking much the same. Dirt, moistened by sweat, clung to her arms and clothes.

“F-five...” the chubby Raen wheezed, allowing her legs to drop out from under her onto a patch of shady grass. The shade was enough to cool her in the salty sea air, but the breeze was relief beyond that, and her eyes drifted shut. Hali didn’t sleep, despite her exhaustion. She never could without a concerted effort, and the sweat left her far too uncomfortable to do so anyway. All the same, she was far too exhausted to do anything about the sweat that coated her, and she resolved to simply stop moving.

This was the fifth time she had climbed that cliff to her new training ground. It was the one to which Kel had led her not long ago to begin her training in climbing, testing both her strength and physical endurance. The cliff stood tall above the Ruby Tide, a single tree and grassy patch at its peak. Despite her determination, she’d found, her ability to exert herself to a breaking point did her few favours, here. If she ran out of strength, all alone, and fell into the sea, she likely would not have enough to swim. It was an exercise in gauging her strength, as well.

At first, it was a rope. Nothing special, but nothing inhibiting, either. It wasn’t enough, though. Rope was fine, but it had gotten easy. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. Repeated movements, techniques, muscle memory, and she could do it like clockwork until she ran herself out of energy. And she wouldn’t always have rope.

She didn’t want to chance the cliff, at first, but she found an alternative very quickly, especially when she found herself back in Eorzea. In it, she also found a new favourite place to be: the roof of the Bountiful Chest. It took a deal of trial and error, but she figured it out. The house’s external flue for heating in the winter months and cold Thanalan nights could be scaled with some work, and the trees in the yard gave her cover. Once atop that, she made her way up the window of one of the house’s many rooms, keeping to the edges to avoid disturbing anyone. 

That, however, was where she got stuck on numerous occasions. Jumping outward to try and grab hold of the gutters would tear them off and sent her hurtling toward the ground. It took a few attempts and long minutes of hanging off the window frame, but she found her way. Using the panelling and a framing beam with just enough room for her fingers to fit above it and beneath the roof, she slowly made way toward the corner of the house, where the beams reached out. Using it like playground monkey bars, she had swung out to the corner in a moment of bravery, hanging perilously above the ornate, spiked fence below. Grabbing hold of the ornamental metal framing at the houses corner to which the gutters were secured, she pulled herself up.

Though her first, and even second, time, she managed to kick the gutter and give it a squeaking wrench as a bolt loosened, she was able to not only avoid raising suspicion, but managed to make her way to the top of the building. Though it exhausted her at first, getting down was not too difficult, since she had figured out her route. Whenever the house had emptied and she was stuck there, it would be her training. Running laps down and around the Sultana’s Breath was easier, but didn’t help, as Kel had described it, certain “essential skills”.

After enough times of scaling the Gold and Glory’s company house (and even making a trip just to fix the gutter she had pulled free by an ilm or so), she found her chance to return to Othard for a few days. It was only the first time she had even attempted climbing sheer rock, but felt herself more prepared than before, and, as such, abandoned the rope. It was a precarious thing. Instead of a well-crafted building, her hand- and foot-holds were rocks, eroded by the sea and briny winds. They were slick, they were loose, they crumbled, and time and again, she met the sea below. It went on enough that she, exhausted, had begun perfecting her dives, both into and below the water thanks to a few moments where her glasses had come free and drifted some ten fulms down onto the sand beneath the tides.

The first day was a failure, and she found herself angry, both with herself and her lot. She had cursed herself as she returned to the islet she used before, and spent hours attacking the wooden dummy she often, and viciously, practiced against with her daggers. No less than four broken knives lay on the dirt, arranged neatly like trophies, their blades worn from sharpening and damage both. They weren’t worth repairing, given they were but cheap training daggers, but they served their purpose, and left her real weapon ready for an actual need.

The next day, today, had gone better. Her head even, her temper gone, she put her reflection and her study that night to the test. She picked out rocks, ledges, tested where she put hands and feet. She had made it halfway up the cliff the first time before she slid, her confidence having grown into carelessness, causing her to grasp a bad ledge. As it crumbled, she was showered with stone, then fell, once more, into the sea. The second attempt was more cautious, and, ultimately successful. Getting down, however, was trickier, and she managed to skid down and bang her knee against a rock on the way down, causing her to hiss in pain before the sea swallowed her once more.

Hours later, the sun had begun to set, and the cooling evening breeze whipped across her motionless body. Five times, she conquered the cliff by the time the day was out. It had taken her all day, multiple stops to rest, and every last bit of her energy, but she made it up five times without falling. Once more would be the fifth down, after which she’d treat herself.

One foot, then the other hit ledge after ledge, after... air. She slipped, but a hand shot out to steady herself as her exhaustion gave way to a lapse of judgement. Hanging for a brief moment, she found another ledge, and continued her descent until, once again, she could feel the sea spray as waves impacted the rocks. Turning, she leapt from the cliff and into the water. It was cold, and much more refreshing than anything else. She drifted for a while in the waves. The row back to Kugane could wait, even if a big sushi dinner awaited her. This was nice.

This was good, and it was proof that she would continue ever upward.