To the tune of Elanor Rigby by The Beatles, and yes there’s an extra verse just enjoy it kupo!
Waaaaait, in queue for Copied Factory
Waaaaait, in queue for Copied Factory
New bonus Scholar
Picks up the i440 Warrior tanking the floor
Vuln stacks galore
Dies to a pink orb
That drifted straight toward them at very slow speed
Lose a 96 Need
All the AOE markers
Where do they all come from?
All the AOE markers
Where do they all belong?
A zoned out White Mage
They just keep casting glare unaware of chat rage
Ignores dead Red Mage
One of the tanks left
Dragoon backflips to the middle with missiles that trace
Puddles in the wrong place
All the AOE markers (Whyyyy is there an Egi-Titan)
Where do they all come from?
All the AOE markers (Whyyyy is there an Egi-Titan)
Where do they all belong?
Still watching cutscene
Everyone scatters as 9S turns main-tank to dust
Healers adjust
They ran out of mp
The Astro weeps because no one watches cast bars
Mechanics are for cars
All the AOE markers (Myyyy gear is almost broken now)
Where do they all come from?
All the AOE markers (Myyyy gear is almost broken now)
Where do they all belong?
The add phase begins
There is only five people for the stack mark at C
No tank at B
Adds tether together
People yell “separate” as they watch on dismayed
Wipes the whole raid
All the AOE markers
Where do they all come from?
All the AOE markers
Where do they all belong?
Finding Final Heaven [SFW] (Ch6 - The Planet Keeps Turning)
This is the final chapter in the SFW version of this FFVII fanfiction, set in an alternate timeline for FFVII. This version has no explicit sexual content and censors language, all violence in both versions is ‘action’ violence.
If you read this through, I sincerely thank you and hope you enjoy the conclusion. Please leave a comment if you feel like sharing your thoughts. Thank you kupo!
When someone looks back on their life, and where they’ve ended up, what is it that gives that life value? Was it the destination or the journey that put them there? Is it both? Maybe it’s something else entirely.
The tree leaves outside the window broke up the sunlight, making it dance and scatter as they shifted in the wind. The breeze reminded Tifa to shut the window. She leaned out the windowsill and smiled at the sunlight, the weather would clearly hold, it always did there. A gust of wind picked up her long hair, making it flow across her shoulders and wave through the air. She pulled the windows to a close.
Tifa’s eyes scanned the counter, her hand held up and ready to pick out the things she needed. The counter was clean yet cluttered. It was an arrangement of fruit baskets and magazines, bottles of wine and decorative vases that Tifa searched through. She spotted a pair of red rimmed sunglasses and grabbed them, putting the temples through her hair and letting them sit on top of her forehead. Then she noticed the unopened letter still sitting at the edge of the counter.
Midgar Dept. Planning and Development
Shinra HQ, Floor 62, Off. Of Dep. Hart
*Notice of Demolition*
Tifa Lockhart
3320, Costa Del Sol
Tifa shook her head. It didn’t need to be looked at now. She walked to the front door, slipping on some white sandals and grabbing a long, striped parasol sitting next to the door. She stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She walked down the stone pathway and under a small archway that read ‘Villa de Wallace’.
As she stepped into the main street of Costa Del Sol the breeze picked up the hemline of her dress. A white sundress with red flowers that hung by thin straps from her shoulders. Tifa tried to push the billowing fabric down as it blew around. She was wearing bikini briefs, but it felt awkward having it fly up around them all the same. She grabbed the fabric and held it down with one hand as she walked down to the beach.
She saw Barret staring down the coastline, both his prosthetic arm and real one on his hips. The corners of Tifa’s mouth turned up. It had been a long time since she had seen a weapon affixed to his arm, she liked it better this way. He kept a fine leather glove over his prosthetic hand for her sake. It felt a lot nicer than the metal. He wore a pair of white cargo shorts and an unbuttoned aloha shirt. His hair was cut short, and his beard was merely stubble.
Tifa called out to him. “Marlene already raced off eh?”
Barret turned around, already chuckling. “Naturally. She doesn’t want her dad hanging out and embarrassing her.”
Tifa stepped up to him and looked down the coastline where Barret had been staring. “Well she’s gotten so independent now. She just wants to know she can succeed on her own. You’re a big example to live up to you know?”
Barret shrugged. “Hey hey I get it. I just want to be able to see my girl succeeding. That so bad? It might also have crossed my mind that she’s probably turning all th’ boy’s heads. What am I gonna do if she gets a boyfriend?”
Tifa smirked. “Are you sure she doesn’t have one already?”
Barret’s jaw dropped. “Hey don’t say stuff like that, we would know!”
They both laughed. Barret took the parasol from Tifa and noticed her holding down the hem of her dress. “It’s cut a little short now huh?”
Tifa looked down and examined herself. “Well this dress wasn’t exactly designed with the idea of having a big baby bump.”
Barret shrugged. “I know the maternity clothes aren’t great beachwear but…”
Tifa sighed. “I’ll get weird looks for wearing that stuff.”
Barret looked down at the dress blowing around her thighs. “As if you don’t get looks in a dress flutterin’ around a bikini bottom.”
Tifa’s voice got quiet. “I know. No matter what I wear they look. Sometimes they’re just like the looks from the… from back then.”
Barret’s face went straight. He shook his head and tried to smile again. “Let’s go for a walk and find a quiet spot. Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
Barret put his arm around Tifa’s shoulders, and they started walking down the sunny Costa Del Sol beach. The farther they walked the more sparse the beach chairs and towels became, until the only other noise was the crying of seabirds and the crashing of waves.
“How long until your next project?” Tifa leaned on Barret as they walked.
Barret thought for a moment. “Probably not for a month or two at least. They want us to survey for oil east of Junon, but they’re squabbling over the supply line. It’d be cheaper to truck it over to Junon, but there’s lobbying for blasting a whole railway tunnel through the mountains to go straight to Midgar.”
Tifa scoffed. “The Shinra train subsidiary has a lot of pull.”
Barret scowled. “Yeah, plus you know how they love talk of expansion. Ground transit to Junon, cost effective mining, military transport toward Fort Condor, they want it all…”
Tifa let out a weary sigh. “They always do. I hate how much you have to work with them, but at least it keeps some control out of their hands.”
Barret’s voice grew intense. “We’re showing people that there’s alternatives, that we can balance energy sources without killing the god &@#% planet. Oil near Junon, natural gas around Mideel… I wanted to reopen coal mining in Corel but there’s no chance with the mako reactor there right now.”
Tifa looked up at him. “What about that heat energy project?”
Barret scratched his head. “The idea is amazing, capturing energy from the sun or the ground, real clean and efficient, but research is slow going. Thing is, the ideas behind it came from a Shinra exec, guy named Reeve Tuesti.”
Tifa narrowed her eyes. “Shinra just gave your company this project?”
Barret shook his head. “It’s more like he gave it to me. Handed everything over in person. Believe me I was thinking the same thing at first. I think the guy generally wants to do some good though. He’s the head of Urban Development, and he wanted to develop this tech for Midgar, energy from the sun up top, energy from the heat below the plate.”
Tifa closed her eyes. “But Shinra…”
Barret nodded. “Won’t get behind it. Enough about work though, you should sit down, and this spot seems nice.”
Tifa smiled in agreement, unfurling a beach towel and laying it down on the sand. Barret stood the Parasol up behind it. Tifa held a hand on her rounded stomach as she carefully sat down. Barret put on his shades and moved to lie down beside her. As he did so, he noticed the design of running chocobos around the edge of the beach towel.
“Ya know I get breaks from Costa Del Sol, but you and Marlene are almost always here. Maybe we oughtta take another vacation to the Gold Saucer. Marlene loves chocobos, she could watch the racing all day.”
Tifa smiled. “Has it really been over a year since we went? I’m sure Marlene would love it. Maybe we should get her riding lessons, or send her to job shadow at the chocobo ranch near Midgar.”
The sun was warm and gentle as they talked and planned their trip. The breeze was soothing and the ocean was calm. Despite the beautiful scenery and perfect setting Tifa’s soft smile slowly went flat, and her shoulders felt heavy.
“…Ester used to manage jockeys there.”
Barret’s continued looking at the sky through his sunglasses. “She was the one with you… at the Inn, right?”
Tifa closed her eyes. “I’m not even sure how well I really knew her, but I can’t help but wish… I hope she’s doing alright.”
Barret stretched and got up from the towel, staring out over the ocean. “You never found out what happened to her did you?”
Tifa was quiet. “No.”
“I understand. I think about Biggs too, I wonder if he found some peace. He deserved better. They all did.”
Tifa leaned back. “After everything we went through, sometimes I can’t help feeling that they would resent us. It hurts to think about…”
Barret kneeled down and picked up Tifa’s hand. “Might sound cruel at first, but I wouldn’t trade my family for ‘em, but that’s not because I didn’t think of ‘em as family too. It’s because this is what we were all fighting for. It’s not wrong that we found some happiness, it’s a miracle that any of us did, and I won’t regret that.”
Tifa squeezed onto his hand. Then looked down at the jeweled ring on her finger. “You’re right. I think the day I became Mrs. Wallace was when I finally chose to be happy. Even though I knew what we were leaving behind, even knowing the things that still go on there.”
Barret stroked her hair. “But we paid a heavy price too, and we’re still doing what we can. When we got married, I knew I had to keep sight on what was important too. I couldn’t lose you and Marlene in the big picture. I never want to do that again.”
Tifa smiled, wiping her eyes. “And you never have. You’ve treated us like royalty since the honeymoon.”
Barret grinned and leaned in, giving her a soft kiss. “What a honeymoon that was. The finest Inn in Wutai. We spent more gil than I’d had through my entire life!”
Tifa ran her hands down her legs. “Those hot springs were so relaxing. I never wanted to leave.”
Barret rubbed the stubble on his chin and grinned. “I mostly remember you in that kimono…”
She smirked and shook her head. “Together every night since and that’s what you remember.”
Tifa put on her swollen stomach. “Hm. Do you think it’ll be a girl? Marlene wants a sister.”
Barret chuckled to himself. “I don’t know if I can handle another girl to worry over.”
Tifa felt the baby kick inside her. “Ah! …as if any boy of yours wouldn’t be a handful.”
Barrett tapped his finger on her stomach. “Hmph! Well you just might find out.”
Tifa pursed her lips, looking away thoughtfully. “Well, maybe I want to.”
Barret crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? What am I gonna do now that my girls want different things?”
Tifa reached over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We have our whole lives now, so I guess we could have another.”
Barret turned to her with a surprised look on his face. As if he had never considered the possibility he reflected for a moment, a grin slowly spreading across his face. Tifa laughed and kissed him on the cheek. Then Barret started to enthusiastically ramble about siblings and big families, baby names and vacations. Tifa held onto him and listened while the sun slowly moved across the sky.
---
The sea breeze blew through Tifa’s hair. “I hope you’re that enthusiastic about it after this one has been born.”
Barret let out a fake sigh. “No rest for the wicked huh? Course that means none for you either.”
Tifa smirked. “I think I can handle it. Though just barely.”
Barret contemplated for a moment. “…but, ya know, you don’t have to push yourse—”
“It’s okay Barret. We want the same thing.”
Tifa stood up and stretched her arms out.
“We chose this, together.”
Barret got up and put his prosthetic arm around her waist and held her close. “Yeah. Ain’t no gettin’ off this train now.”
As the sun started to set on Costa Del Sol. Tifa and Barret both knew that in Midgar it would always be night in the slums, and bright as day on the plates, but there, with each other, they knew the sun would rise again, and a new day would start.
A romance fanfiction set in Final Fantasy XIV. When I saw these two interact in post-Stormblood I knew I had to write about them becoming a couple!
Magnai has long searched for his true love, his Nhaama. An encounter with Y'shtola Rhul leaves him certain (again) that the Sun has found his Moon. After a swift rejection however, he is left to think about what could have been, or perhaps what could be...
Contains spoilers for a post-Stormblood scene. I hope you enjoy kupo!
“Nhaama’s power is yours to wield!” Sadu, Khatun of the Dotharl, spoke in euphoric glee after extended battle with the Warrior of Light. “What does the Sun say to that?”
“Hmph. The Sun is not driven by base motives such as yours.” Magnai’s breath was labored, having just crossed blades with Lord Hien and Y’shtola.
“But aye, they have been judged…and found worthy.” Magnai stood and expressed his recognition of their strength. “The Sun shall answer you call.”
As soon as the affirmations of alliance were clear, Magnai wasted no time in turning the gaze of his brilliant yellow eyes to Y’shtola. Her face was new amongst the people not of the Steppe. Her skill was astounding, and her grace unlike anything he had ever seen. Her platinum hair framed a sharp, learned gaze from eyes of pale silver. He had not imagined such profound power from so scholarly and beautiful.
“You. By what are you called?”
Y’shtola hesitated to answer. “Y’shtola. Why?”
“Are you…” Magnai mumbled to himself. Unable to break his gaze from the cultured conjurer. His mind swirled with revelation. He wondered if it were not possible that his destined meeting, the introduction to his Nhaama, could it not be here and now?
“You shine with the full moon’s light, your healing touch as gentle as Nhaama’s love…” Magnai’s voice grew louder in excitement at his proclamation.
“Beholding you, I am all but certain! My Nhaama is no woman of the Steppe!” Magnai stepped forward, his intention clear to all at this point. He stepped close to gaze into Y’shtola’s eyes.
“Now, look into my eyes. Could it be…? Could you be...?” Magnai smiled, his stalwart confidence allowing him to be overjoyed in the moment of his union.
Y’sthola smiled sweetly at the Au Ra man. “I am…” Her lips became straight and serious as before, her words plain and direct. “…not interested little sun. Try again when you have become a man.”
Magnai was slow to react, his mouth falling open in shock. He had suffered countless insults from Sadu’s sharp tongue, and had admittedly been rebuffed by those who had turned out not to be his Nhaama many times. Yet somehow Y’shtola’s rejection cut him unfathomably deep.
“Little…?”
A burst of laughter followed from Sadu, who began to chide him relentlessly. Suffering such grievous insult after being rejected set Magnai’s blood to boiling, and he drew his axe without hesitation. Scarcely had the battle begun that Y’shtola elected to depart, scoffing at the asinine nature of the Xaela ‘diplomacy’, or lack thereof.
After extended battle, which did little to provide succor to his wounded pride, Magnai returned to the Dusk Throne and retired to his chambers. He wished to channel his anger into breaking something, to splitting a rock in two or crushing Dzo bones into dust. Yet something strange happened when he lifted his axe or clenched his fist. He felt blocked. The Miqo’te woman’s words rang as clear in his ears as when she spoke them.
He sat down on the edge of his bed, frustrated and defeated. Her smile was so beauteous, she had shown it to him just long enough for him to remember, yet it was gone just as swiftly, and replaced with her stern face as she rebuked him. As angry as it made him, the Oronir recognized the strong, and strength she had. How could he dismiss the admonishment of one such as her then? She had shown her wisdom to be beyond her years, there were no flaws with which to tarnish her image. And her image was indeed burned into his mind…
---
The sun was setting on another day in Mor Dhona, and the Rising Stones had grown quieter as the hustle and bustle of scions and adventurers died down. Save for Tataru’s work station…
“I’m not sure I understand…” Tataru looked wide eyed at the towering Au Ra before her.
Magnai shook his head, annoyed. “What is not to understand. I am here to join the order, this is the fold that calls themselves the Scions of the Seventh Dawn is it not?”
“Well yes, but, you’re…” Tataru stammered, she had dealt with questionable applicants before, but dismissal based on a lack of experience or credential would probably only serve to stoke this one’s anger more.
Magnai clenched his hands into fists. “I have journeyed far little one, do you mean to play games with the Sun?!”
“Eep!” Tataru jumped out of her seat and shuffled towards the door to the back room. “I-I must consult a senior member you see, er, we will get back to you, terribly sorry!”
As the Lalafell vanished into the back Magnai sat down with his arms folded. The pure ridiculousness of the lengths he must go to. For her though… it would all be worth it to win his Nhaama…
After several minutes Alphinaud emerged from the back with Tataru in tow.
Alphinaud approached and extended his hand in greeting. “Magnai was it? It is an honor to speak with the khatun of the Oronir. I am given to understand you are quite the magnanimous leader on the steppe.”
Tataru eyed Magnai sideways, leaning shyly toward Alphinaud as she tried to whisper to him. “Alphinaud that’s not what I—"
“It is the duty of the Sun to shepherd his people.” Magnai hesitated, but then grasped Alphinaud’s hand. “This land is far from the steppe however, and I am come to learn of its ways, of you Eorzeans.”
Alphinaud tilted his head a little, but still wore a diplomatic smile. “Full glad are we to have your interest, let alone your presence. Pray tell though, why do you wish to become a Scion? Certainly there are other ways to learn of this land and its people.”
Magnai’s stern face clearly became focused on something altogether in his mind. He tilted his head back and folded his arms. “Because the moon herself is of your fold, and of your people.”
Alphinaud and Tataru stood with slightly confused expressions, unsure of how to respond.
Magnai returned his gaze downward to the extant world. “If this is the way of fate, than it is the responsibility of the Sun to shine for all his people. I must act not for the people of my blood alone, but hers as well. I would honor the moon in this way.”
Tataru tugged on Alphinaud’s sleeve, attempting again to deliver her words in a hushed tone. “This seems rather suspicious, I don’t think—"
“Very well!” Alphinaud smile as he boldly raised his voice. “I would normally think to cross examine you more, but your passion as a defender of the people is plain. Your willingness to incorporate a larger body of people not your own is truly altruistic, and will serve you well.”
Tataru’s jaw slowly dropped open, she looked at Magnai, and then back at Alphinaud, and back at Magnai.
Alphinaud continued, “You see I am also not of Eorzea, in fact a great deal of the senior scions hail from the shores of Sharlayan, including the likes of myself, Urianger, and Y’shtola.”
Magnai’s expression changed upon hearing Y’shtola’s name. The change was ever so slight, but Tataru raised an eyebrow, noticing his widened eyes and retraction of his scowl.
Magnai nodded, slightly more enthusiastic for dealing with him. “I am… grateful… for your acceptance. I would be happy to stand beside these… senior members.”
Alphinaud put a hand to his chin. “Well, I certainly needn’t question your strength. I received a first hand account of your prowess during the Naadam from the Warrior of Light themselves. If you are truly willing to put yourself into potential danger for us, mayhap you could greatly aid some of our senior members…”
Tataru folder her arms and narrowed her eyes as she sat down, watching as Alphinaud chattered away with Magnai.
“It sounds as though stealth does not suit your skillset, and Urangier would not have much use for your axe… One of the members I mentioned, she is a healer. She is powerful in her own right, but having a warrior such as yourself would ward her from danger, and her skills would no doubt bolster your own battle capability.”
As they begin to walk away, Tataru silently shook her head. This could not possibly end well…
---
The sun was shining brilliantly over Vyllbrand.
“My… companion and I require passage across.” Y’shtola passed a purse of gil to the ferrymen. She glanced back at Magnai. He was staring at her again, a small smile on his face. Rather he was almost always staring at her, which incidentally seemed to be the only time he saw reason to smile about anything. In her opinion the entire situation was as unwelcome as it was unnecessary. She sighed as the pair stepped into the small dingy.
Alphinaud had foisted it upon her without much choice. She remembered the conversation between them, how Alphinaud had seen ‘great potential for an ally’ and ‘a chance to diversify the scion’s staff’. While the order had decided on a loose structure, he was being awfully presumptuous to make such a decision without consulting anyone. Then he had brought him all the way to her with no warning! Y’shtola furrowed her brow. She had nowhere else to send him, he hadn’t the first clue about Eorzea, and Alphinaud had quickly managed to wash his hands of all responsibility.
“What troubles you, my… ah… Y’shtola.” Magnai caught himself, she had put a swift end to being called the endearing title of Nhaama.
Y’shtola swept a hand through her hair. “Nothing of consequence…”
She gestured to the approaching isle of Umbra, and the grand lighthouse skewered with corrupted crystal. “The Pharos Sirius, it was once the grandest single structure on Vyllbrand.” Y’shtola had already quickly adopted the habit of explaining visible points of interest as if a common tour guide. This was often the only thing that would break his gaze away from her for a time.
Magnai took in the structure, thinking that from the very top it must be much taller than even the Dawn Throne. “It is impressive to reach to the heavens so. Yet now it is…”
“Derelict, aye…” Y’shtola stared at the enormous shard that pierced the tower, clearly seeing it’s outline because of the corrupted aether within. “This but one of many things destroyed in the calamity, and it is not the worst of it.”
Y’shtola looked toward the mainland coastline. “For one who knew the lay of this land, it is a constant reminder. Where you now see barren bramble once stood verdant grains. Where you now see cliffs and peaks once lay fields and streams. Where you see rubble stood homes, and the families that built them…”
As Y’shtola’s voice faded from a hush to silence, the boat rocked gently with the waves, its small splashes in the water the only noise to break the silence. Magnai crossed his arms and looked at all he could see around him, noting every uneven break in the terrain, every set of decayed foliage, and finally the giant crystal shard that pierced the pharos.
“…To have the very heavens fall around you. The people of this land have suffered greatly.” Magnai’s tone was heavy.
The distinctly emotional response surprised Y’shtola. He seemed to truly take the gravity of her explanation to heart. She found herself staring at him for a change, watching his stern expression as he seemed to reflect upon the perspective she had presented him. They had only been traveling together a few days, mayhap she needn’t be so quick to judgement, her lack of patience with people these days was reminding her too much of her old mentor…
Magnai stood as the dingy approached the shores of Umbra, rocking the small boat with his size. His grip tightened on his axe. “This place is abandoned then? Will there be aught to fight?”
Y’shtola gripped the sides of the rocking boat and flattened her ears, thinking that on the other hand she shouldn’t forget all she had witnessed on the steppe.
As the boat moored itself against the sand beneath it Y’shtola hopped over the side with Magnai following close behind. The waves lapped at her boots as she walked ashore. As they approached Y’shtola’s senses could make out the worn stairway leading up the Pharos. The scene was quiet, which would be conducive to her work, had she not a curious and love-struck follower ilms away from her at all times.
“Alright, I need to examine the crystals. It is dangerous to linger about them for too long, so keep your distance for awhi—”
Both heard the soft skittering in the sand approaching. Magnai raised his axe as several mantises appeared from the rocky terrain.
“Seems my quiet was not meant to be…” Y’shtola sighed.
---
Though their pairing was farcical to Y’shtola, she did not dismiss Magnai, assuming he would tire of his duties or of her before long and return to Othard of his own volition. Days turned to weeks however, and as their time together stretched into months Y’shtola started forgetting to wonder when he would leave. It started to become all too second nature to plan accordingly for having him travel with her.
Much of her time was devoted to research, trying to understand the changes in the aether around the world. Magnai was a useful protector if naught else during such times, clearing hostile beasts and saving Y’shtola the trouble. Any other time he was simply observing her or asking questions about the world around them. Familiarity made his gaze less and less bothersome, and she began to enjoy teaching him about Eorzea, wondering if the self-satisfaction of enlightening such a wild and uncouth individual was how Matoya had felt teaching her.
On a typical overcast day, Y’shtola and Magnai set out for Oakwood. She had been asked by Limsan officials to look into the local fauna behaving strangely, with no naturalist able to discern why. They walked in quiet along a gentle stream as Y’shtola tried to spot any unusual patterns in the aether. Suddenly the sound of splashing water and screams broke the silence.
“Please!! Help!!” A child’s voice, panicked and sobbing.
They both spied the young girl immediately, running across the shallow stream ahead of them. A group of three coeurl’s darted about on her sides, making ready to pounce on the child. Both Y’shtola and Magnai sprinted forward without hesitation.
Y’shtola shouted, “Magnai, the right!”
As Y’shtola jumped directly in front of the child Magnai flew passed them, bringing his axe down as quick as lightning on one of the coeurls, cleaving it against the ground before it could react. The other coeurl leapt at him with fangs bared, but was met with the flat side of Magnai’s weapon as he absorbed the force of its leap, and then threw the beast to the side. By the time it pounced back onto its legs, Magnai was bearing down on it, one slash of his axe leaving it bereft of life.
The third coeurl sprinted directly at Y’shtola and the child. Y’shtola conjured a flurry of biting wind that assailed it from the front, causing the beast to flinch and redirect its course. Before it could make another attempt Y’shtola focused on her staff, and a strong line of white light sliced through the air. The beast took only a single step before falling to the ground, thereafter motionless.
With the threat removed they turned their attention to the whimpering girl.
Y’shtola kneeled down in front of her. “You’re alright now little one. What were you doing out here?”
The girl sniffled as she spoke. “I… I jus’ wanted t’ fish… My da’ never lets me…”
Y’shtola nodded. “Mayhap for good reason, this place is not safe for a child on her own.”
The child whimpered, “E’ says… the wolves tha’ take our livestock would get me… but I ‘ate stayin’ inside the fence all day…”
Y’shtola shook her head. “It is for your own safety little one...”
“Nonsense.” Magnai stepped forward toward them. Y’shtola looked at him in surprise, confused as to why he would interject.
The intimidating Au Ra stood dauntingly high over the young hyur girl. The shaken child looked at him anxiously, fearful of his intimidating presence. Magnai pulled a hatchet from his robe, presenting it to the little girl.
“Take it in your hand.”
The girl nervously reached for and put her hand on the handle. As Magnai let go the heavy hatchet fell to the ground with her fingers still around it. The girl put her strength into lifting it back up, the tool clearly being unwieldly in her hands.
Magnai addressed her sternly. “Do not dishonor your family by becoming food for the beasts. You must find the strength to protect your land and your people. Thus do we earn the right to take of its bounty. Do not venture forth again until you can split a stone as big as you with your swing.”
The girl stared at him wide eyed and nodded. After it became clear Magnai had nothing else to say to her, she pointed down the path. “My ‘ome is there…”
Magnai crossed his arms. “You set out on this journey by your own will, you must be able to complete that which you begin. Go forth, we shall follow.”
The girl nodded nervously. She turned around and began walking down the path, stopping and turning her head to look back at them every few steps. Magnai’s piercing gaze would drive her to take another few steps forward before having to look back again to ensure they were still there. As she forged on Y’shtola stood up and walked with Magnai as they trailed behind her.
She had not expected someone who had shown such disregard for simple diplomacy to have such a way with children. She felt remiss in calling him uncultured, even if she had found the Xaela practices oafish and savage. Now as she looked at Magnai she saw the aura of his aether differently, in a way she somehow never noticed before. His aura always looked so fiery and intense, she thought his ill-tempered and capricious nature to be the cause. Though as intense as it could be, she now observed how gently it glowed, so bright yet… a warm, welcoming incandescence.
“I am surprised at how well you handled the child. A bit blunt, but you gave her direction while warning her of the danger.” Y’shtola’s tone belied her curiosity.
Magnai kept his gaze fixed on the young girl walking ahead of them. “Children are not beasts to be tamed. They should be guided to reach their own heights, with their own actions, that is how we Oronir teach the value of strength.”
Magnai smiled to himself. “I can tell you were not brought up on so different of lessons, your will is like that of the steppe. I imagine they who raised you knew well the value of strength.”
Y’shtola’s ears perked up, her lips parting without sound as Matoya flashed through her mind. To think that he of all people could have such insight. She chuckled quietly to herself and smiled.
“Perhaps…”
---
The sun was already sinking below the horizon as Y’shtola and Magnai stepped onto the docks in Kugane.
Magnai looked around at the Hingan city. “It has been a long time since I set out from this land to find you.”
Y’shtola scoffed at him. “Perhaps had you thought to investigate my identity rather than blindly asking everyone my name you would have found me much sooner.”
Magnai furled his brow. “Hmph.”
“Come.” Y’shtola began walking along the pier. “The Ruby Sea will be easier to cross by day, we’ll resume our journey to Othard tomorrow.”
As they crossed the city Magnai looked to the sky. The paper lanterns were hardly needed this evening, their soft glow outcompeted by the brilliant light of the full moon. He took a deep breath, gazing at its luster.
“Are you coming? Or do you intend to take in the night life?” Y’shtola’s voice called out to him.
He looked back down from the heavens to see her standing in front of the inn. A sweet smile on her face. The same smile he had seen so long ago, on the day he first met her. He smiled himself, and then followed her inside.
---
“It has been too long since we were able to bathe and have a proper night’s rest.” Y’shtola mused as she closed the door, returning from the baths. Y’shtola had donned a pure white yukata, beautifully complimenting her fair skin, much of which could be seen as the garment barely draped around her thighs. Magnai’s red skin conveniently masked the flushing of his face.
Y’shtola sat on the edge of the cot, looking over at Magnai, who sat at the window looking out over the inn’s moonlit garden. Tataru’s frugality was beginning to become extreme, one of her demands being that those afield together share lodgings. By now Y’shtola had become far too used to the company to complain.
“How does it look?”
Magnai turned to look back at her. “It is lovely. The moon shines in great splendor tonight. It is… a shame you cannot behold it.”
Y’shtola shook her head. “I am still blessed to see a great deal. In ways I might never have imagined.”
Magnai stood and faced her, dramatically holding out his hands. “Just as well, the sight still pales in comparison to your own radiance.”
Y’shtola tilted her head, letting her smile show as she did. “Now on that I will simply have to take your word.”
Magnai walked over and kneeled down in front of Y’shtola. “Tell me, long have I feared asking one who truly sees all as it is. What do you see, when you look at me?”
“I see…” the strange mixture of emotion in his voice struck a chord with Y’shtola. She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “A brilliant glow, it is bright and passionate enough to stand out among many, almost overbearingly so. Yet it shines softly, with purpose on all it touches. It is warm and welcoming, like the daybreak after a long night.”
Magnai nodded slowly, then reached to take up one of Y’shtola’s hands. “Your words are succor to my heart. Though all my time with you has been a blessing. To be the Sun, yet see so little beyond thine own radiance is folly. You have been as my moon, showing me that the Sun’s brilliance is naught without aught to shine on.”
Y’shtola was taken aback by Magnai’s uncharacteristically eloquent speech. Squeezing the hand that held hers. “I am moved that you would credit me with such. The… Sun, should be proud of his own accomplishments. Though I cannot help but wonder If he’s been listening to Thancred spin words for passing beauties.”
Magnai shook his head. “The Sun shines for all, but chases only after his moon.”
His free hand gingerly touched Y’shtola’s cheek as he leaned in toward her. Y’shtola looked at him softly, without speaking a word in response. As his face neared hers, he pulled her in until their lips met. His gentle demeanor didn’t surprise Y’shtola so much anymore. As their lips held together, she wondered if she just hadn’t been able to see it at first, or if their time together had brought out a different side of him.
The side of her yukata slipped down over her right shoulder as they kissed once more, and again, and again…
Outside their window in the garden it was quiet, with only the glowing moon as witness until it sank from the sky to give way to the dawn.
---
Y’shtola woke first, her unconscious stretching waking Magnai as she moved in his arms. They wearily opened their eyes and met each other’s gaze. They smiled at each other as thoughts of the many months leading to previous night drifted through their mind. Unusual for him, Magnai felt himself at a loss for words. Holding Y’shtola in his arms, feeling affection and warmth from her embrace, he finally felt… content.
Y’shtola sighed softly, speaking in a hushed tone, her normally strong words hinting at embarrassment. “I suppose this makes me… your Nhaama...”
They hugged each other a little tighter…
---
Magnai walked down the trail ahead of Y’shtola, his axe sitting on his shoulder as he took long, energetic steps. He reached the crest of a hill overlooking the valley path towards the Azim Steppe.
“Ah, we are so close to the Steppe! I can smell it’s familiar air on the breeze!”
Y’shtola chuckled as she walked up beside him. “I’ve not seen you so giddy since we found that Wind-up Sun in the markets.”
Magnai nodded. “It is momentous for the Sun to finally return to the Steppe, and when I tell them I now have my Moo—OOMPH.”
A stiff arm to the stomach cut Magnai short, as Y’shtola stared sternly.
“and I told you not to call me such til we are behind closed doors.” Y’shtola gave him a coy smile. “My dearest Sun.”
A short prose from a fine gentleman of Yharnam, set in the world of Bloodborne. I imagined him as a charismatic young courier who lives a little too capriciously, and is so capricious he doesn't realize when his flights of fancy became part of a much bigger nightmare...
(I tried some fancy editing with the words to make them look more twisted but the format can't be mimicked in posting). Has suggestive themes and strong language. I hope you enjoy kupo!
Ah, the streets of Yharnam
They’re surprisingly warm tonight
Sultry even
Especially for such a long night. Such a long
long night
I’m a courier, elementary, unglamorous work
Ah, but it is a gentleman’s profession, and surprisingly it’s so…
So rewarding
Street to street, door to door, the familiar sights, and sounds
I deliver joy and surprise to hearth
Families invite me in, provide supper, I learn of their happenstance
So welcoming
So Inviting
And the lovelier sex of Yharnam, they invite me in too
Oh the flowers of Yharnam bloom so beautifully
Freshly nuptial blossoms
Oh Gods YESssS
Ah, but a Yharnam gentleman does not crow of nests spoiled
It is distant lightning
so beautiful, so shocking
So ephemeral, who can say when and where
Then it was always back to the streets
But lately, doors remained barred
Packages left lonely
The gentle clinking of vials with each delivery a somber tone
The soft ruffle of unopened letters a bleak timbre
I too I was so LONELY
Oh but how fortune doth turn the gyre
When one moves as a courier does, one can feel the cHAnge
As does Yharnam, so doth the blood
Quickening,
BURninG
And lo! The church sings such sweet truths
A blood ministration by a budding, tenDEr, nun
the colour, spilling across Yharnam once more
A courier feels such glee at the sight
It feels
so GOoD
NOW the doors give way, inviting me in once mooOOre
To bring the jOY, and tHE LAuuughtER agaIN
The CeleBRAtion is so raaaUCous, sooo Jubilant
They sPRead themselves about with their tHRashiiing
and the woMEN, oh the fAir maiDENs of Yharnam
Oh FUCK
ThEY are so RAvenous, so inSAtiaaable
It’s almost fRIGhtening
yEEeess
Ah, but a gentleman does not crow of nests spoiled
Then it is always back to the streets
Street to street, door to door
The familiar sights, and sounds, and tAStes
The smell of copper, and sulfur, and rot
But they’re familiar smells, and that’s where the charm comes from isn’t it?
Short musings from an undead blacksmith in the world of Dark Souls. Having lost a bit too much humanity, he is decrepit much like some of the merchants around the Undead Burg. He tends to make ambiguous but clearly contradictory statements. I imagined him sitting under constantly dripping water, which he complains about interfering with his work, yet does not move or cover himself, and when his constant exposure finally kills him and makes him go hollow, he is found under a waterfall, mindlessly bashing a rock with his hammer.
An’ what do you want?
I’m a blacksmith case you’re blind
And I’ve plenty of work to be doin’
So if you ‘ave no business, leave me be
Course, I can listen to a tongue waggle
Not many left these days
This land’s pretty empty by now
There’s not much to do
Kyeh heh heh heh heh…
Well, I can make you arms, and armor
You might think most blacksmiths ‘ave a specialty
My specialty is nothin’
You don’t need nothin’ special to keep from dead
Well, there’s quite a bit of queer things in this land
Some of ‘em, well a normal blade won’t do
Demons with hides like stone, an’ gargoyles what made of the real thing!
Takin’ a sword what like I make you?
Why you’ll be hollow in no time!
Kyeh heh heh heh heh…
Always rainin’ on me
Never rains anywhere else here
Just comes drippin’ off the channel above
The rain feels nostalgic though
Makes you appreciate it
What’s that?
It doesn’t make me remember a thing
What’d make you think I’ve time for sentimental hogwash
Blast I hate this rain
Kyeh heh heh heh heh…
See the work a blacksmith does, it lasts a lot longer than you
When every last fool one of ya has gone hollow
Our work’ll still be around
Even after a thousand years of weatherin’
Seems our work’s more important than the people what it’s made for
Course, once everything’s gone dark
Nothin’ll be able to see anythin’ we’ve done
Seems our work doesn’t merit a pittance!
Kyeh heh heh heh heh…
Eh, felt myself slip away again there
Seems like it makes it harder to feel the rain
Damned sky, is it darker than before?
Kyeh heh…. Heh….
