A Tradition set in Mythril
The warmth of Azeyma shone once more upon the realm. Beneath Her golden gaze, the Jewel of the Desert was abuzz with the bustle of merchants and the cavorting of adventurers. But there was one distinction this midday:
Tiny pink flower fragments danced in the wind, falling upon the Emerald Avenue and through the Ruby Road. And around the boulevard were stages lined with dolls and picnic carpets with chirashi-zushi and dango nearly arranged beneath crimson parasols. But above all, the main constant were the women. From the littlest Lalafell to the robust Roegadyn, the ladies were adorned with crowns and corsages of flowers. But not just any flowers - these were Peach Blossoms, which could only draw to one conclusion...
"Little Ladies' Day!" yelled an Elezen woman.
"IT'S FINALLY HERE!!" cheered a young Hyuran girl.
That precious time of year had arrived at long last, where the ladies of Eorzea would be treated like the princesses they were meant to be, and its men and boys would become their loyal retainers and seneschals, ensuring that they were well-tended to and happy. The festivities proceeded apace and soon the streets of Ul’dah would be filled with the joy and splendor Little Ladies’ Day would bring. The revelry would eventually be interrupted, however, when a shrill cry was heard from the Sapphire Avenue Exchange.
Adventurer and citizen alike ceased their current activity to look for the source of the sound. From the Gate of Thal, a blue-eyed maiden with pale skin and a white dress was chasing after a small gang of individuals cloaked in mauve. There were ten among them, and they were easily outrunning the lady, who tripped over a stray stone and fell midway through the Exchange.
“Stop! Thieves!” cried the woman with an outstretched arm. The ne’er-do-wells continued their flight towards the Steps of Nald, pushing through the crowd to escape the woman, who only gave a piercing glare before getting up. Unbeknownst to the thieves they would pass a small woman - a Lalafell, no doubt - with malachite hair and ash grey highlights, cloaked in red. After glancing over her shoulder to notice the fleeing brigands, she placed her index and middle fingers to her ear, and a tiny ringing noise would be heard...
“They’re headed your way. Prepare to take wing,” she whispered before disappearing into the crowd.
“We’re almost there, boss!” said one of the cloaked Hyur males, addressing their Roegadyn leader. “Once we reach the Gate of Nald, the jewel is as good as ours!”
Before they would even reach the gate, however, they would be stopped by a line of smiling dolls sitting beneath one of the archways. There were three of them, each with a different color. The far left doll was as blue as the Indigo Deep. The center was a platinum color. The one on the right was a lighter shade of blue, matching a clear sky. Their eyes were closed, and dresses of matching colors hid their bodies.
“These Ul’dahns are sloppy! They've resorted to decorating the streets with little girl toys!” laughed another thug. The rest would join in for a moment before four of them slowly fell to the ground, which alerted the others. The onlookers gasped at the sight, trying to figure out what caused this mysterious malaise. The cloaked thugs turned back at the dolls, who were unmoving. They turned around and saw an empty avenue, save for a couple stragglers who watched on in fright.
“Show yourself!” yelled the boss, hoping to find the assailant. No answer. There was a deathly calm in the air for a minute or two before a whistling sound was heard in the wind. Before they knew it, three more thugs found ornate daggers lodged in their necks, falling almost instantly. The remaining three were beginning to lose their cool, and drew their weapons in retaliation.
“Dammit, where are they?!” questioned the cloaked Hyur Thaumaturge. His counterpart, who was a Conjurer, looked back towards the dolls, who were perfectly still. Something about them was... off.
“It’s got to be those dolls! I don’t think they’re just decorations!” he pointed out. Their leader drew his broadsword and pointed it at them.
“Show ‘em that no one - not even a bunch of buggerin’ dolls - messes with the Alacran!” he ordered. The Thaumaturge manifested aether into his rod until he would gather enough to launch a stream of flame at the center doll. In but an instant, the fire stream would be halted by a pair of grayish wings of light, sprouting from a resplendent mythrite scutum. The crowd shielded their faces from the resulting heat and smoke scattered from all directions.
When the smoke cleared, the dolls that were present had been replaced by three slightly taller figures. A gorgeous specimen of a Lalafellin woman wearing a blue lady’s yukata and an ice blue skirt took the place of the central doll, holding the scutum. The doll to her left was replaced by another Lalafellin woman with a sky blue Far Eastern dress, matching boots and skirt, and had platinum-blonde hair tied into a ponytail. And on the far left, an elegant Plainsfolk wearing a High House Bustle as blue as the ocean, with a large capeline hat to match. Somewhere on their dress was the symbol of a blue owl against a white octagon dotted with blue diamonds.
“Oh!” exclaimed a bystander. “It’s the Angels! The Mythrite Sultan’s personal army!”
“The Head Secretaries, no less!” followed another. “Lady Yuanji Yuji of the Flying Dagger! Archangel Sesena Sena! Umimi Umi, the Royal Reaper!”
“The Royal Reaper?!” gasped the thug leader. “Well, aren’t we fortunate! A descendant of Nym and a jewel from the Thorne Dynasty! We’ll be richer than the Syndicate; the ransom the Regalia would pay - think of it!”
“I abandoned that epithet long ago, gentlemen,” Umimi replied kindly. She would then take her left hand behind her as she grasped the shaft of a blue scythe adorned with flowers. “But, if you intend on continuing your nefarious ways... she may come back.”
“And also, boys,” Sesena coolly followed, “you may want to get your eyes checked; that ‘Jewel of Thorne’? It’s a counterfeit! But not just any counterfeit!”
On cue, Yuanji threw a dagger from her leg holster at the blink of an eye, hitting and shattering the large gem which caused a tiny mist to form around them, temporarily impairing the remaining bandits’ vision.
“What the hells...?!” was all the bandits could say before they were met by a flurry of slashes coming from within the fog. The leader saw his remaining two comrades fall before him, which began to unnerve and enrage him. With a wild swing of his axe, he created a tornado of steel to disperse the mist, with the only sight he beheld was Umimi barreling towards him at top speeds, her scythe brimming with aqueous aether. The Alacran brigand rose his weapon to assume his best defensive stance, but as a fellow Warrior, Umimi knew what he was doing. With murder in her eyes, she struck her scythe against the ground, releasing some of the water-aspected aether stored, and slid around to outmaneuver him before unleashing a powerful, water-enhanced Fell Cleave to the scoundrel’s back. The citizenry of Ul’dah cheered at the spectacle, bearing witness to Umimi’s modified version of her Fell Cleave, the Oceanic Rend.
“Bugger it all... Outdone... by pipsqueaks...” grunted the Roegadyn as he collapsed to the ground, suffering critical damage from Umimi’s attack. With the brigands incapacitated, the Ul’dahn townsfolk applauded the Angels’ efforts, and they all took a bow in response. Emerging from Sapphire Avenue were a Hyur woman garbed in white from head to toe, with a mask of the same color obscuring her face. Accompanying her was a Lalafellin woman with malachite-colored hair wearing the same yukata as Sesena, with several Brass Blades in tow. The Lalafell pointed to the knocked out Alacran thugs, and the Brass Blades would immediately make their way to apprehend them.
“Good work, Sosona! Lady Shiro!” Yuanji said. “Another day saved from those who would otherwise undermine the Regalia’s efforts!”
“It seems these rum-soaked ruffians are doubling their efforts since the stalemate with the Garleans,” Umimi commented. “I’m honestly glad; it was starting to get boring!”
“I’ll relay this to our lovely lord! I think we’ve earned ourselves a nice picnic! And what better way to do so than Little Ladies’ Day?” Sesena commented.
As the crowd dispersed, the festivities continued on, and the day would soon give way to evening as the moon would slowly make its ascent to take its place in the heavens. A resplendent mansion of mythril blue glistened and sparkled in defiance of the Lover’s gaze. This was surely none other than the Higuri Regalia Main Branch Headquarters, located in Radz-at-Han.
The Mythrite Sultan, Thiji Higuri, garbed in his favorite Wamoura Robe, reclined on a couch overlooking the balcony adjoining his chambers. By his side was his beloved pet and mascot, Lady Nyra, Mythrite Owl of Nald’thal, proudly perched atop the couch.
Approaching him was that Lalafellin flower born of Thavnair, with golden-blonde tresses, aqua blue eyes, and a smile as warm as the Near Eastern sun, pouring for the Mythrite Sultan a glass of his favorite lassi, as per usual. Veeveena Veena, Lord Thiji’s Main Branch Advisor, had arrived to give Lord Thiji company, donned in the Impurity’s Sampot for which she modeled. She took Nyra’s crown and placed it on the nightstand beside his bed before taking her post beside the Mythrite Sultan, arms folded at the waist.
After taking a sip and nodding in approval of its exquisite taste, Thiji gestured to Veeveena as she poured herself a glass, only filling it about halfway before setting down the pitcher. She took the glass in her hands and would enjoy a large sip herself, savoring the sweet yet icy flavor. When she exhaled, her breath was visible in a light mist, which made her giggle.
“She mocks me yet again, Miss Veeveena,” Thiji softly stated. “With the added spectacle of lunar dust... the Lover is so full of herself.”
“What ever do you mean, My Sultan?” Veeveena asked. “She is merely doing what She does: illuminating the night with Her light. Surely She does not intend to openly mock you so.”
“I would believe you... were it not for the fact that She is shining much brighter than normal this eve,” Thiji replied as he took another sip. “Despite the peace I’ve made, She and the Spinner still conspire against me.” Veeveena only giggled and took a step forward, letting the moonlight bathe her, the gold on her sampot glimmering beautifully.
“Perhaps so, My Sultan...” she stated in her ever, so angelically calm voice. “But this could be a sign. There could be a grander scheme in store for you. All those past flames you sought to catch - whose names shall remain anonymous - were unsuited for one of such stature as yourself. From my intuition as a woman, they were not worthy in Menphina’s eyes. The way I see it, the many trials you’ve endured, My Sultan - though I am truly sorry you had to go through such - were merely Menphina and Nymeia’s intervention; even they knew it wasn’t meant to be.”
Thiji watched with an arched brow, analyzing Veeveena’s words. While what she said made some modicum of sense, he took a step back in his mind, contemplating if this truly was some part of a bigger picture, and that he was too consumed by his otherwise horrible luck with the fairer sex to entertain such a thought. Veeveena turned her head to him, her genuine smile unchanged. “I feel The Lover and the Spinner have your measure, and are scheming to bring you your Sultana - one who is fecund. So fecund, in fact, that even Nophica would be envious of her. Though your line is secured through your niece and nephew, I know you still wish for heirs of your own, which I wholly understand.”
“Princess Kikki would agree with you... but I still invite them to try,” Thiji retorted. “My guard is up with good reason. I know better than to get my hopes up; I shan’t be fooled again.”
“Which reminds me...” Veeveena said almost immediately, turning her body with a finger raised. “I received news from the Aldenard Branch: Little Ladies’ Day has returned, and the Songbirds have abdicated from the stage this year.”
Just as Thiji would take another sip of his lassi, he would pause before the liquid would touch his lips, his eyes wide with surprise. Even Nyra turned her head towards Veeveena, her eyes squinted.
"Are you certain of this?" Thiji asked, his tone deepening. "You of all people should know not to jest of the only holiday I've ever enjoyed. Have the Eorzeans finally learned? Have they truly relapsed to a better time? Ulala was the true star, but those... Songbirds were ruining the good name of Little Ladies' Day with their siren songs. To know that the true meaning of the festival is returning... brings me hope."
"My Sultan, I would never jest nor would I lie to you about this event," Veeveena answered. "I would sooner surrender my position and my virtues than besmirch this beautiful holiday. The Higuri tradition - a noble, adorable, honorable one. The men of the Higuri would become the seneschals to their loved ones..."
"My father's fathers landed themselves their wives as a result," Thiji explained, inspecting his glass. "My father landed my mother serving as her seneschal... and my brother after me fell in love with Lady Umimi... and then there is I."
"My lord, please don't," pleaded Veeveena. "Don't hurt yourself like that. Just because it has failed you does not mean it will not happen. I have the utmost faith that your Sultana will come."
The Mythrite Sultan sighed. But it was one of relief, for he felt some hope being restored. He listened to Veeveena's words and nodded, rising from his seat and finishing his drink before placing the glass by the pitcher.
"Then I shall uphold my tradition," he declared. Veeveena cocked her head to the side, wondering what he meant. "I make for Aldenard. I will serve the women of Eorzea this year during the festivities. 'Tis not just for them, but for myself."
The Advisor beamed and bowed to him in response to his decision. It brought some happiness to her heart knowing her Sultan was finally putting his work aside to more directly serve the Eorzean community.
"I wish you the best of fortunes, My Sultan. Who knows - perhaps the princess you serve may become your Sultana!" Veeveena said.
"Again, you are more than welcome to think such things... but I am not doing it for that. The truth of Little Ladies' Day has returned to the realm, and I will ensure it stays that way through the Princesses' Gathering."
He would obtain Nyra's crown and took his leave, leaving Veeveena to her own devices. She turned back toward the moon in all its silvery glory, grinning.
"You are young yet, My Sultan. I know in my heart that she will come. If you don't have such hope... your Angels do."
(Many thanks to Sapphrix Rain and @minstrels-ink for creating the pictures)
