#nagxia

[remember-lee-to-all]

[thepilgrimofwar]

Effigy

4.

The final climb to the temple complex was done at an almost suicidal incline. Were it not for the chains that had been hammered into the cliff face, it would have been an impossible feat while they were burdened by their weapons and equipment.

“In its heyday, it would have been necessary to abandon your worldly possessions before entering this place,” Kaijin explained to Ruì Yīng as he pulled up each member of the supply train, one by one through a difficult section of trail.

Ruì Yīng looked down at the sheer drop, the ground below disappearing behind the canopy of the Nagxian jungle. “Has anyone fallen?”

Kaijin nodded. “From time to time. Traditionally, the bodies of the fallen would be collected, cleansed, and buried with the blessings of the monks who used to reside here. Their belongings would be treated as donations to the temple. Until recently, the elderly of nearby villages would come here to do just that. So as to not be a burden upon their families and make their final offerings to their Kami.”

“An unnecessary extreme,” Hideshi commented as he too joined to help the others of their party up.

Since their confrontation, he seemed to give Kaijin a modicum of respect despite his open distaste of the Doman boy.

“We walk a pilgrim’s path, Master Sato. I am sure its creators and pilgrims who used it deemed it as necessary as faith itself,” Kaijin retorted as he assisted the stretcher bearers who carried Unconscious Zhāng. The boy regarded the feverish Doman for a moment before continuing, “and faith is a necessary thing, lest we make monsters of ourselves.”

Beyond the final incline sat a temple fortress large enough to be a city. Made from polished volcanic stone, three pagodas stood atop the plateau connected by a massive central courtyard. Around it was a perimeter wall flanked by a cliff face on one side and a sheer drop off the mountain to the other. Though majestic, upon closer inspection, it was clear that these structures were all long past their prime. While one of them seemed pristine given its age, another was overgrown, and the last seemed blackened by an ancient fire. Each of them were missing parts, eaten away by both time and the insatiable jungle.

Waiting at the fortress gates that led into the central courtyard, stood an older Hingan man in a dull coloured hakama. Tucked into the silk sash around his waist were two katanas of similar length, a peculiar sight for the Domans.

As Captain Diệm split off from the party with supplies and Unconscious Zhāng in tow, the trio approached the older man who had come out to welcome them.

Kaijin stepped forth at once to introduce them. “Master-at-Arms Sato Hideshi. Kōhaishi Fù Ruì Yīng.” he announced as a formality, even though they needed no introductions to the very man who had called them here. The boy continued, “my handler, and founder of the Kōhai Project. Sensai Shinmen Takezō.”

“Welcome to Vách đá Thánh. The Blessed Cliffs.” said the older man.

“It is an honour to meet you in the flesh, Kensei.” Hideshi replied, bowing in respect as Ruì Yīng did so as well.

“Kensei?” the alleged sword-saint laughed. “Ah, so my reputation precedes me. Tell me, Master-of-Arms Sato, how is Koshu? It has been a long time since I set foot on the home islands.”

“Endowed with fair winds and following seas, as always.” Hideshi replied.

Shinmen Takezō smiled. “Such things are worth protecting from the Garleans, even if the Shogunate is too short-sighted to see that.”

Hideshi had to bite back his tongue, lest he reprimand his superior for disrespecting the Bakufu. “They only do what they believe is best, and supporting an independent Doma & Nagxia is not desirable.”

“Is it not? Perhaps they do not see the threat Garlemald poses if it consumes the mainland and all its peoples…” the older man said, only to pause when he observed Hideshi’s discomfort. “But no matter, we can discuss matters of national loyalty later, when we speak of your Kōhaishi.” The Sensei then turned to address Ruì Yīng. “You must be the Yanxian girl, from northern Doma. That would make your name 瑞英？ Promising Flower?”

Ruì Yīng nodded, bowing her head in respect. The Sensei hadn’t proved that he wasn’t deserving of it, yet. “Lucky Flower,” she corrected.

“Nay, that betrays the potential you hold,” Sensei Shinmen turned towards the courtyard of polished stone intending to lead them towards the rest of the complex. But when he noticed Ruì Yīng trembling with curiosity, the older man stopped mid-step for her benefit. “Before we begin your tour of the place, tell me, do you have any questions?” he asked graciously.

The girl spoke without hesitation. “Kōhaishi Sawashiro mentioned that I may be the strongest candidate to date. You speak of my potential. But I am nothing more than a competent swordswoman.”

“More than competent,” Hideshi corrected, complimenting her teacher. “But there is much more than mere physical ability to consider.”

“Sato-san is right, there is more to you than just the strength of your sword arm or the sharpness of your mind,” Sensei Shinmen said as he tapped his temple, then brought his hand over his heart.

Ruì Yīng caught on to his gesture, unknowingly placing her own hand over her heart as well. “My aether? But I can barely harness it.”

“You don’t have to. If that was what we sought, you wouldn’t have been selected as a candidate and likely have been trained as a Geomancer.” the Hingan Sensei reassured her, then tapped over her heart. “No, you are here because of your strength of spirit--your strength of soul.”

Ruì Yīng chuckled. “My soul is going to kill Garleans?” Her laughter faded immediately when she saw the older man remained dead serious.

“You can feel the weight of it, can’t you? So much so, that it is difficult to carry?” he asked solemnly, giving her a knowing look.

It was as if someone had asked her to think about breathing, for Ruì Yīng had suddenly become aware of an unspeakable weight; pooling in her centre like a mix of tumultuous emotions.

The Sensei continued. “Like steel, it is both heavy and amorphous in its raw form. Here, under our instruction, you will learn to forge it, hammer it, sharpen it--and if you are lucky--one day you will wield it as tangibly as the blade on your back.”

--

“I am unsure how much Kōhaishi Sawashiro has told you about the Blessed Cliffs,” Sensei Shinmen said as they crossed the courtyard. “But if you would indulge an old man’s passion, I will tell you all about it.” He smiled back at his guests, pretending that they weren’t a captive audience.

“If it is to be our home for the foreseeable future, context would be valuable.” Hideshi replied on behalf of his juniors.

“The scholars of Koshu & Doma have always turned a blind eye to the region. Passing Nagxia off as an unremarkable place of jungles and swamps which has ‘failed to produce a historically significant nation’.” Sensei Shinmen said, as if quoting from a text. “They fail to recognize the rich history that lay outside of their isolationist-centric thinking. Either showing that they do not know, or do not care about the peoples of Nagxia...”

Hideshi nodded. “If these lands were indeed so insignificant, the Garlemald Empire would have ignored it. Nor would it have taken three years to conqueror while Great Dalmasca took one,” he said, buttering up his senior.

“Precisely,” the Sensei said with a grin. “Because Nagxia is not one nation, but several. If they had all united in their cause, I am sure it would have taken them three decades rather than years.”

The group stopped in the middle of the courtyard of polished stone. Ruì Yīng noticed for the first time that the temple complex seemed to be designed in the shape of a flower of carved stone petals and here she stood in the centre of it.

Sensai Shinmen faced them all eastwards. “In ancient times, the Blessed Cliffs were once the seat of power of Nagxia. Like a Lotus facing towards the rising sun, the fortress gate to this once holy place lies to the east. Beyond those are The Summer Highlands and River’s End provinces. Beyond even that, if look carefully enough, you might even make out the Emerald Bay.”

The older man faced the group north, towards a temple guarded by armed members of the Nagxian Liberation Front. “The Northern Pagoda belongs to the resistance sect led by Captain Diệm, whom you already are acquainted with. In exchange for our support in important operations, diplomatic connections, and funding, they provide us food, shelter, and anything else we might require for the project.”

He turned their attention to the structure to the west, blackened by an ancient fire. “The Western Pagoda acts as our warehouse. In the very centre of its walls sits a vault that once housed holy relics, now it houses our supplies and the infirmary. It is likely where Diplomat Zhāng will remain until he defeats his fever, or his fever defeats him.”

Finally, he presented the section of the temple fortress that seemed to be overgrown, so much so that it was like it had been absorbed into the cliff-face behind it. Trees had grown wherever they found purchase, and their roots were beginning to force the ancient stone bricks apart.

“The Southern Pagoda belongs to us,” Sensei Shinmen said, turning to Ruì Yīng as if addressing her specifically. “Here, within these walls we have gathered all the world’s strength:

Local Nagxian warriors from the Sầm Princedoms, Lam Dynasty, Sakya Family, and the Udayan People.

Foreign freedom-loving peoples like yourself from Doma, Indoaya, the Emerald archipelago, and true patriots from Koshu like myself and Master Sato.

All have been gathered here to bring an end to Garelean Expansion through the Kōhai Project.” The Sensai concluded.

Sensing that it was finally her time to speak, Ruì Yīng asked the question that had been burning within her since she had been given to the Doman Liberation Front for this very purpose. “What is the Kōhai Project?”

Her Sensei smiled, almost as if he had planned for her response. “Tell me, what do you know about Yōtō?” he asked.

“Yōtō? Devil Swords?” Ruì Yīng questioned, recalling stories that were told to her brothers when she was younger. Stories of swords that hungered for blood, refusing to be sheathed until they had been sated. She spoke up, “legendary swords, made by a mad swordsmith who had poured all of his violent will into their creation.”

“While Doma may have long lost the artform to forge these blades, I assure you that in Koshu, these swords are not merely Legends,” the Sensei explained. “But we are not creating Yōtō here, instead, Jun-tō. Pure Blades. You see, the secret to smithing is in the intent of their creation. Violence is not the only thing that can be willed into a sword but selflessness, resolve, and the will to resist. The greatest Hingan & Inodayan smiths have gathered here to do just that.”

Ruì Yīng, awe-struck by the revelation, took a long moment to piece together all she had learned so far. “So…the Kōhai Project was made to create these swords?” she asked.

Sensei Shinmen laughed, revelling from the look of wonder in Ruì Yīng’s eyes. “Yes, but more than that, the Kōhai Project was made to teach candidates like yourself how to wield them.”

–

Part 3

Part 5

[call-me-noa]

Expecting 5.45 to bring us back to Dalmasca.

[mythriteshah]

Pg. 23: Non Quai Thao/Au Tu Than Combo

Presenting page twenty-three of the Hydaelyn Runway is a set of attire most unique!

After taking a still-popular Far Eastern ensemble into consideration, the Mythrite Sultan and his Angelic entourage embarked on an expedition down The One River to visit the many villages which make their homes along its banks.

Once their liberation was all but assured, the Regalia established trade with the people of Yanxia and Nagxia with the promise of their own region representing themselves in the realm of fashion.

And boy, did they deliver on that promise!

The Non Quai Thao/Ao Tu Than costume is the Regalia's take on the One River's fashion.  The prototype Apa Gown that was created when the PiB Catalogue was taking form served as the basis of this graceful outfit. 

While the palm hat is available to both genders, the Ao tu Than ("Four-part Dress" when translated) is a traditional dress worn primarily by women, and carries a great deal of symbolism with it.

Modeling for this provincial gem is a lady by the name of Trix, a native who was eager to represent her region.  The generous souls of the Regalia could not help but oblige her.

Even the humblest of smallfolk can look their best with these elegant and carefully-crafted pieces of the Far East.  May all in the realm of fashion bask in your beauty (and superior balance)!

(Credit and thanks to https://www.instagram.com/sapphrix/ for the creation of this masterpiece!)

Notable Owners

Nikoko Niko (@nikoleta-mer​)

[doctorlaelia-ffxiv]

congratulations.

Laelia drummed her fingers against the coffee table, legs crossed, head turned towards the window as she watched the snowfall. It was strange to be back in the family library again, seated in the old, pale blue armchair that she’d used so often that it would be worn if her mother wasn’t religious about reupholstering old furniture. If Claudia fae Caelius was to summon an eikon, Laelia figured it would likely be an interior decorator. Weapon of choice: a pair of fabric scissors. 

Her head turned as she heard the heavy oak doors open, a dark-haired servant standing in the center with his hands folded, offering her a slight bow.

“The Primus Frumentarius has arrived, Medicus,” he said, glancing up at the young woman, and she looked up from her mug of coffee. 

“Thank you, Marcus. Please send him in.” 

“Very good, Medicus.” 

Laelia smiled at her old friend again, and he winked before bowing out of the room. The next person to step in was quick to wipe any jovial expression from her face, however. Laelia rose to her feet and clasped her hands behind her back as Thaddeus goe Laronia made his way into the library, the doors closing quietly behind. His eyebrows shot into his pale hairline at the sight of the young woman, and she tilted her head, freeing one hand from behind her back.

“Thaddeus,” she said, her voice smooth and sweet as honey. “I’m so glad that you were able to come.” 

“A-Ah... lux Caelius,” he murmurs. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your summons? Last I heard, you were out-- fighting the good fight in Doma! This is quite the trip you’ve made--” 

“Oh, come now, old friend. We have no need for formalities, do we? You’re my dear sister’s betrothed. Please, take a seat.” 

It was not a request; it was an order. Though the good doctor was smiling, it felt more like a baring of teeth. The towering frumentarius stared before nodding quickly and taking an empty seat, clearing his throat as he adjusted his spotless uniform, and Laelia slowly made her way closer, lifting the teapot that had been brought in to pour the man a cup. 

“I hear you have been quite busy,” she said quietly, pale blue eyes lifting to meet his quivering gaze of icy gray. “And I had a little bit of a vacation to take, so... I figured I would see you with my own two eyes before I had to head back.” 

Quiet, high-heeled footsteps brought the woman back to her chair, and she sat straight, hands folded in her lap and ankles crossed. Thaddeus smiled quickly and took a deep sip from his cup of tea, proceeding to choke and nearly spit it out due to the heat of the beverage. Laelia perked a brow. 

“Stupid.” Her voice was soft, and Thaddeus’ lips parted.

“I- Yes! Yes, I suppose I should have figured it would have been so hot--”

“Twenty one Nagxian prisoners of war.”

There was no tip toeing around it now, it seemed. Thaddeus’ mouth stayed open as Laelia’s eyes bored into him from across the coffee table, snow gathering upon the windowsill. Her hair - the same hue of the snow - was loose around her shoulders, falling in soft waves down to the center of her back. The blue dress she wore was pressed immaculately, not an eyelash or eyebrow out of place, lips painted perfectly in crimson. 

“Laelia...”

“Twenty. One. Six civilians were in the mix of the people you captured. Two of them were under the age of sixteen. Of the fifteen rebels, three of them were sixteen. One of them was sixty seven years old. And tell me, you foolish, brute of a man... Tell me, what did you do with these prisoners - many of them harmless people who wanted nothing but their own freedom - after you captured them?”

“Did Julia write to you?” he asked, an edge finally growing into his voice, and Laelia raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

“Goodness, no. That’s the thing about Julia. I received a letter from her the day after the news broke, and she was singing your praises. My sister doesn’t usually lie to me, Thaddeus. But she has a terrible habit of protecting you.” 

Laelia rose to her feet, savoring the way that the big, intimidating man flinched in one swift moment from a petite Medicus. Slow steps were taken towards him, like a cat closing in on a mouse, and he leaned back in his seat. Pale, slender hands came to rest on the arms of his chair, and Laelia leaned in, the scent of cashmere and vanilla wafting off her skin, with the undertone of surgical chemicals.

“You took those twenty one people, and rather than keeping them prisoners... You lined them up against a wall, and you ordered your men to put bullets through their heads,” Laelia whispered, staring into Thaddeus’ eyes. “You are an idiot, and that doesn’t even begin to cover the worst of it. You are a coward. You’re a heartless waste of space that would kill children to further your own interests--” 

“They were rebels! They’d hurt and kill our people, Laelia--”

“Is an eleven year old with a heart condition a threat? No? What about a feeble man with only one leg to walk on? And still you raised your voice, you raised your hand, and you dropped it to signal your men to kill them, sacks over their heads like terrorists in holding!”

It was the first time in the exchange that Laelia raised her voice, pushing off of the chair. Thaddeus looked angry, now, rising to his own feet. She didn’t take a step back, let him tower over her as she glared up at him. 

“But I heard you were up for that promotion you were seeking, and now you’ve just gone and... let that opportunity slip through your fingers. At least your higher ups have some common sense. Do you not expect a retaliation? You killed the children of soldiers, soldiers who are well and truly a threat. You don’t think that your foolishness, your sick ambition-- you don’t think that any of that will get our men and women in Nagxia killed when they strike back?!”

“You’re being a hysterical little woman, not befitting your station,” Thaddeus began, and Laelia threw her head back, laughing.

“A hysterical little woman? I would take that as an insult, were you not for a cowardly, boastful, proud, man. And now, my sweet sister-- my Julia-- is tied to a man who committed a war crime. You are lucky I have no sword, because I’d see fit to cut you down to size myself. Instead, I’ll have to speak very clearly and very concisely, and I’ll use small words so that you’ll understand me clearly.”

“You have been given the best possible option for a wife in my sister, Thaddeus, but make no mistake: You have also lost it. I’ve spoken to her, and she is heartbroken, weeping, bedridden with grief over your brutality. That, alone, is enough to make me wish it had been you receiving the bullet rather than those Nagxian captives. And Cassia told me that, when you arrived back the Caelius estate after your grand accomplishment, you were boasting about your killing of savages, how proud you were that savages had been cleaned out, wondering if you’ll next be sent to Dalmasca to clean up their savages.” 

Thaddeus’ ears were growing red, and Laelia could see the anger building in his expression. She wanted to laugh, to spit. Her tone was vicious and low, more a snarl than a roar. 

“And what was it that drove you to this heinous act of war? Someone challenged you,” she growled. “Challenged how deserving you are of the position you were given. You justified a childish taunt with murder, and, by way of trying to prove yourself, only proved that you do not deserve your position. The only savage I know, Thaddeus, are men like you.”

“If this is such a damage to Julia’s reputation, then I’ll break off the engagement!” Thaddeus suddenly boomed, and Laelia rolled her eyes.

“No. You won’t. She’s going to get dressed, come down here, and you are not to leave this room until she has broken off the engagement. You’ll not embarrass her again. Let these two failures and humiliations be slaps in your face that sting, and thank whatever foreign god you please that I have not aimed to do worse than take away your potential wife.” 

Laelia stepped around Thaddeus, felt him turned around to look at her. Maybe he wanted to shout more, try to justify himself. Her head turned to see his mouth open, hands balled tightly into fists.

“Congratulations on your well-deserved demotion.” 

And then she was out of the room as Marcus opened the doors, heels clicking against the white marble floors. 

[myrfing]

oh btw...👀

[remember-lee-to-all]

° character study °

[remember-lee-to-all]

∘ bang bang