a sequence of calamities
For FFXIVWrite Day 18, “a fish out of water”. Temimi, early A Realm Reborn, spoilers for Tonberry lore (and warnings for Tonberry lore), ~700 words. A little canon-divergent in places.
It’s been…some time.
The lesser moon is gone. In the night sky Menphina wanders alone, her hound lost.
Temimi travels by day, and keeps the curtains drawn at night.
*
People have a tendency of explaining things to Temimi as if she doesn’t know them; she ought to be offended, maybe, except…she doesn’t.
A ferryman tells her about the Sahagin, and about Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, and about something called the Thalassocracy that runs Limsa Lominsa. Temimi, clutching her stolen robe tighter around her with her mittened hands, nods with interest.
There are twins on the ferry with her, bored to sleep by the ferryman’s ramblings. Temimi makes careful mental notes instead. She would be expected to know about the Admiral, most likely. She would certainly be expected to know about the Sahagin.
“Thank you,” she says, when they reach the docks of Limsa Lominsa safely, after all.
“Hey,” he says. “If you don’t mind, where are you from? I’ve never heard an accent quite like yours, and I’ve ferried an awful lot of travelers.”
Temimi swallows. Her mouth is dry, but she can’t lick her lips to moisten them before she speaks; she has none to lick. “Nowhere I’m going back to,” she says.
He nods, and asks no more questions. She would go back, if she could. But it does all right as a deflection.
*
Baderon Tenfingers, the man who runs the Adventurers’ Guild, doesn’t just tell Temimi how to find the markets; he sends her to people who will make sure she understands what a fair price is, and where to look for one. It might be a courtesy for any newcomer.
Temimi has never seen the funny little coins they call gil before. It’s a relief when she sees people trading Allagan-stamped metals for larger purchases—that much, at least, hasn’t changed.
She wonders if the Allagans really stamped that many metal pieces, that they can still be used even now, or if people have made more since then. The value of a coin is what people give it; the value of a robe, or a meal, is certain. And the Allagans were ancient even in her time.
*
She meets a cheerful and bespectacled man in a library—a little shorter than her, she thinks, though maybe not shorter than she was before. She thinks she grew.
“Oh, hello!” he says. “Are you interested in Ancient Nym too?”
I was born in Nym, Temimi doesn’t say. I am ancient.
“How old is it?” she asks.
“The Sixth Umbral Calamity happened one thousand, four hundred twenty-three years ago,” he says. It isn’t casually; he’s proud of his knowledge.
That’s…so many years. So many. Temimi wants to ask— “And how long,” she asks carefully instead, “how long was the Fifth Astral Era?”
Her fellow student’s eyes and lips work as he calculates silently. “Fifteen hundred…seventy-seven years, roughly.”
“Ah,” Temimi says, or hopes she says. People she knew who were not stricken by the Green Death died in the Sixth Umbral Calamity, then. She wants to ask what it was, and doesn’t dare.
*
“There was a Calamity five years ago,” Baderon tells her. Temimi can see a few of the other people around shaking their heads impatiently. Someone scoffs. She looks up at Baderon with polite interest, not that he can see her expression behind her veil—not that he could read her expression even if he could see it—and waits for him to continue.
He tells her about a Garlean invasion—she has no idea who the Garleans are, but gets the impression they fancy themselves a new Allag, and resolves to act accordingly—and a battle at a place called Carteneau. Dalamud was no moon, but a cage for a primal, unleashed upon the world.
She nods, storing all this away too.
There were heroes to save much of the world. She wonders if there were heroes in the Sixth Umbral Calamity as well, if aught of Nym, or Amdapor, or even Mhach survived, and doesn’t ask. A simple adventurer wouldn’t care, and that’s all she is now—an odd-jobber, a willing hand, a last resort. That Baderon keeps finding her work to do means things are worse than they should be.
Well, she’ll do what she can. What else could she do?