Faith X
Shortly after a beam of light dawned onto the vessel, connected by aetheryte waypoints and also diverged aetheric insignia’s imbued into the Crew’s signets. A tremendous stoic Wildwood Elezen surveyed the sea-vessel in complete chaos. Bodies, sheep, a gory bloodbath all surrounding. A back-holstered staff carrying a bell rang signalling his undeniable presence. Which, to the polymorphed sheep, they drew thinking they were being herded and began munching at his majestic lock’s that flowed to his ankles, but to the sheep, it looked like golden hay. “Halt that!” He winced with irritation, and tugged and resisted before drumming his bottom hilted staff to put them asleep. Closing powerful almighty rich emerald’s hues. He commenced with invoking a spell that asked for nature to tend to them. Arteries nicked were being temporarily channeled through a new stream of branches to flow them again for replicate function. <Light-of-before>, allowed injuries to be timely rejuvenated gradually, each progressiveness to their well being sprouting a petal until a full bloom was made. He could not physically or surgically realign bone fragments only reinforce them with temporary temperance, they would still need the Surgeon. Which meant a lot of the Crew was in for a strict recovery before they saw consciousness. The worst offenders would require him to rechange the shroud plywood and planks into a temporal cutesy sentient little ent who would see to conjuring and keeping their vitals maintained alongside fluids and pumping aetheric compounds into them, the entire sea-vessel, was life support. Scenery didn’t convey emotion from him, despite the Crew being broken by havoc, among the entire roster, he was only here for a divine purpose. Only fulfilling his side of an unlikely pact. The ancient wildwood Elezen was a disciple of the Twelve and in faith aside oath, swore to never use his boundless magical prowess in an offensive manner or inflict severe harm. Despite knowing rituals, seals, wonders of all cultures from somehow, early eons. He carried the languages and teachings of many dwellers of Eorzea. How quite possibly could such a polarizing indifferent person find himself upon the sail of a pirate? As evident that particular treasure hunter had defiled and attained all the Voidal series relics, before they were transferred between him to Shiro, cause, Captain couldn’t maintain their safety. Whilst the Noble had a perfect defense… This outcome was unforeseeable with a lecherous Father using and witnessing all his vaulted secrets, memories to only fulfill, even further levels of resurrecting through accursed blood. If however there was a series of collective occult relic’s of predated times, than of course there remained more, from Sacred Items hidden in Desert Seas, to Beast Tribe heirlooms, but as well the most difficulty dangerous to attain, Relic’s of the Twelve, of his dedicated deities they were owed them returned to their rightful places. Captain had acquired one of them, only to lose it, right after the battle with Shiro who found it. Many left remaining, each hidden, surrounded with mysteries and drawn by varied forces. These journey’s were only catalyst’s to reacquire the belongings of the gods, a sworn duty, only an ancient disciple could undertake. As did the pact between Captain and this Historian. His interest’s and allegiance to the Captain, if there was ever a direct requirement or being led astray from divine purpose, then Zieton would always choose god over mere man. Oldest of fashion he carried all the forebears of his sacred and the eldest ancient race’s burdens. Also, though, inside Captain lay’s strangely a half-soul of Amdapori origins, which also, was his major study, he after-all created the binding rune that allowed Captain to not only contain another soul, but interact with it and bond with it, to contain control, to make a forged pact or find understanding of conflicted halves or possessed farers. To have such staggering wisdom was the crown of the Goldbrand’s crest. With a brief salving of days Captain recuperated before asking for a transported warp to the showdown, under Zieton’s specialty to nearly on touching contact could take others around effortlessly as long met the criteria of the Twelve resting stone’s nearby. A channeled veil of holiest light was placed upon the crucible of certain demise by Zieton when reaching the Elune Estate’s exterior. This not only prevented escape of a portaling dark sorcerer, but also prevented whatever evil intentions he concocted from spilling out to the innocent denizens. They knew Silv’a possessed a majority of the Voidal Relics, with one being already used against wickedest intent; there was no-telling if they’d all be used. “I shall remain and erect this field. You’ll have little less than Three Bells, pirate. Afterwards, I cannot sustain it. I can choose what to let in, but nothing may leave once you tread forth. The Crew injured, and scattered in the Retrieval mission, were all foretold our destination prehanded. From my detection of quantifiable influx aether being drawn here, it’s imminent and likely, you will die.” Giving a realistic callus assessment. Cheeky the rogue mockingly pitched, “Fantastic pep-talk, ye really know how t’ sell it. Listen, I’ll let ye enjoy your erection. All this that transpired is my fault, so I’ve to see through this storm... even disregarding, I’m most certainly going t’ die” Nonchalant soft leather began marching to the entrance of devastating oblivion. A scowling golden skin elf sighed with an exhale. “Captain. One last imparted wisdom, regarding your forearm. You may feel that ‘half’ is empty but with death comes a new ushering of life, it’s a cycle which we live. Now whether what forecomes from that, is decisively up to your nurturing. Should you act upon irrational rage or selfish-serving goals, a carnivorous beast will consume you, aside all others, worse than heretofore. -- Action’s of care will have the opposite effect and give birth to a beast that mirrors… Beyond this veil is a Trial that’ll decide your outcome and judgement of everything.” The Seeker halted and searched his inked forearm which became transparent from the runic binding nearly obsolete. “Just admit ye will miss me. Otherwise got t’ find someone else to undergo your endeavors. Which won’t work or compare, cause I'm th’ stupidest to traverse any wave... And oi’…. When I come back, we’re getting you laid.” So much seriousness wasn't always needed. Truthfully the Elezen could use it, being underground from the current society of things, so his education was limited beyond anything primordial. All the advanced changes were beyond his comprehension. Leaving the Elezen flabbergasted aside a shaken head. He followed and began levitating in meditation with purest concentration to his mighty glamoring shell. The Immortal Age (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)
