Message in an Extra Large Bottle
Four summers ago, I innocently began my journey as an adventurer. I thought perhaps the strange lands of Eorzea would sate my hunger for new lands and experiences, but I failed to understand the depth of the world I had stepped into. I underestimated the value of the world I would soon come to save.
Not long after my journey began, I attended the annual seasonal event of Eorzea known as The Rising. There, I saved the world yet again from some impending doom or other. Afterwards, I met the renowned Wandering Minstrel of no small repute. As he regaled my recent adventure with his harp in hand, I felt my mind drawn to a different place altogether.
There, I met a man and his companions who had toiled endlessly to create the world I stood only moments ago. Naoki Yoshida welcomed me to the infamous Eighteenth Floor where he and many others were proud to greet the vaunted hero of Eorzea. I remember a great deal of it so vividly. The artworks plastered along a wooden board, Soken next to a piano, Koji-Fox with his strange Moogle attire, Hiroshi Takai riding the Nightmare mount in such a strange position, Toshio Murouchi excitedly preparing for the next Fan Festival, and many others hard at work in their environments. Yoshida and his companions showered me with accolades one after the other, but soon, a feeling of uncertainty began to overtake me.
I had only just begun my journey. Sure, I had saved Eorzea from the great threat of the Ultima Weapon and Garlemald’s XIVth Legion, but did I deserve the honors and applause from these great people? I’d heard tales of warriors battling their way through the Dragonsong War as I still trudged along slowly absorbing the myriad wonders that Eorzea had to offer. Truly, was I worthy of such praise?
And so, for the many moons that followed, I strove to become the hero they believed me to be. Through many adventures and trials, I have grown stronger and truer to the cause. What was once a world has now expanded into a universe. I have fought through the struggles of betrayal, the thousand-year war between dragon and man, the liberation of homes and countries ripped away from those of faraway lands, and now, even to bring a world on the brink of destruction back to its feet.
I hope that, perhaps one day, I might tell them these things myself. For now, I leave this letter scattered to the winds in hopes it might one day reach all of you. Know that you have created a world, a universe even, worth saving, and I will continue to do so for as long as I am able. There is much and more I wish to say, but perhaps that will come another day.
Though I may yet call myself a Warrior of Darkness, in my heart I feel there is another name that more appropriately captures what I wish to be.
- A humble, but proud Player of Final Fantasy XIV
[Winner Prize Selection: Bluebird Earring]
Within the Shifting Altars
Map night with the FC...
As the last monster fell to the ground, one of our group went over to the treasure chest and kicked it open. As the lid rattled open and the smoke filled portal opened above it, we all cheered in unison! Entering through the portal we found ourselves on a platform divided into twelve sections.
“Alright, so now we just press...this!” one of my comrades said, touching his hand to a sphere in the center of the platform. The sphere lit up, and a light began to spin round and round the platform. We waited, tensed with anticipation. Finally, the light stopped around a symbol of three diamonds and a monster erupted from a sudden portal in the center. The fight was intense but we managed to prevail. Again and again we touched the sphere, and the light continued spinning. There was one tense moment as four of the symbols around our platform bore the visage of Atomos, which we knew would blow us out of the dungeon! Once more the light spun, and as it slowed it approached the very symbol we feared. Then the light stopped. Hope began to wither in my chest, and my face fell. Until it moved one last time...onto the symbol for an Elder Summon! Our final one! Mandragoras spawned from one of the portals, and an FC member called out which order to kill them in. With his guidance, we made quick work of them and at last, a chest appeared in the center of the platform. The materials within would fetch a great amount of gil! No amount of gil, however, would exceed the value of this night spent with friends. Even if I hadn’t gotten anything, just this would have been enough.
Noble Barding Please.
Tales Without Shadow: Chaos
As the time drew nearer, the pounding of my heart only grew greater still. To either side of me, fellow comrades in arms, and before us, a horrid nightmare of past lives. My knuckles grew white as I gripped my bow all the tighter, swallowing down as much fear as I could. We had been preparing for this day, for this moment. Everything would amount to this. How far would we go? Could we even do it? No… We had to. It was our duty to. Steeling myself, I cast one last glance to my companions. The newcomers were trembling, putting on a brave face, while the veterans stood at the ready, weapons drawn, gleams in their eyes. As scared as I was, I followed their example, looking ahead at the horror. In a moment, all was still. The next, the battle began.
From then forward, everything was a whirlwind of motion, blurring my vision as I struggled to keep up. The heat around us was horrid, the waves to follow threatening to swallow us whole. Our legs wobbled beneath us as the very earth threatened to kill us, the ravaging winds threatening to tear us apart at the seams. I watched as my comrades went flying through the air, saved only by our most skilled mages. I watched our warrior stand their ground, axe raised as a giant fist came slamming down into them, nearly knocking them to the side. All the while, I let arrows fly, barely hearing them whiz through the air in the midst of the Chaos. My arms turned to jelly, scarcely able to draw the bowstring. I was terrified beyond any doubt of the imagination. And yet, at the same time, my heart raced harder, blood coursing through me. It was a feeling unlike any other, my body moving on its own. Every step could have been my last, every breath nearly stolen from me. I had never felt so alive.
An eternity had passed, time far out of our grasps. We didn’t know if it had been days, months, or if it had only been an hour. Nonetheless, we fought till, finally, the great nightmare lowered his chin. In an act of desperation, I watched as our monk dashed forward, fists clenched like vice grips. In one hand, light began to flood, bathing them in its warmth. It grew bright by the second, searing white-hot. In an instant, before my very eyes, the monk vanished. A moment later, a blinding, all-consuming light erupted from the nightmare, a chilling shriek screaming out from it. As the light began to fade, the horror disappeared into nothing. I looked around, fearful that it was just a trick. As I looked towards my companions, however, I saw that a trick was the furthest thing from the truth.
Smiles of triumph adorned their faces, their fists raised high in the air. A battle cry rang true, congratulations were dished out in earnest. I found myself falling back, sprawling out on the ground, tired as could be. I could barely believe it. Never would I have guessed that we could have gotten so far. And yet, there we were: We had banished the Chaos. We had won.
(I would like the Scarf of Wondrous Wit please~)
The Bottom of the Sea is the End of the World
They call it a calamity.
I call it the end of the world. Certainly, it is the end of my life. I spend the last few minutes on the wreckage of our ship as it - and indeed, all of us - continue our slow descent into the blue abyss.
Our ship, dodging flame, fire, famine, bringing supplies to the needy, robbing the Ascian ships of their extra unneeded wealth, restructuring the laws of our area of our sea, is on fire and sinking.
Some have called us pirates, but the crew of the Tuberão, Lalafell one and all, are loyal to our company, to our boss, and to what is right by Lymlaen. Though we may be called pirate, we are all independent souls, relying on the great gifts of the sea and the sky to bear us through this toil and strife.
It has been honest work for honest pay - in that we honestly did the work we were bidden to do. Not sayin’ all the work was honest, mind you, but our blood, sweat, tears, and toil were. We nursed cracks in our hands, our heads, as well as cuts to our souls and soles over mead, ale, and bread. We’d eat like kings and queens onshore, but live on salted dried fish and a handful of grain, boiled in a forge’s light on a ship. Feast or famine, we saw it all. Our coin gold, and good where we landed; never question the source, and it be plentiful.
Calm seas never quite were calm after that day. There was a mighty roar, just as the seers projected, and the wall of water fell upon the village. We were all on board, holdin’ on for dear life as the wave swept us out to Hydaelyn knows where. It took us a few days to get our bearings and we floated in an area that was unfamiliar, but we pressed on.
But tonight, a clear night at dusk, the great Leviathan rose from the depths to smite us down. We managed to go hard to starboard, but lashed up on rocks. In the rising flood, there are no survivors. I write this and cast it into the sea, my home for the last 20 years, in hopes that one day it will be opened. Lord Leviathan claims more victims, and sea has in fact swallowed all.
Lymlaen, be merciful… my body now belongs to you. See me safely home….
https://i.imgur.com/ew6yss9.png
Captain Alili Ali, last of her name
(If I win the contest, I’d like the Gaelicap, please.)
Blooming in the fave of adversity
It was many moons ago, although it always feels like it was yesterday.
The horrors that transpired that fateful night showed how one could be easily corrupted. Thankfully, nothing was leaked to the public about the state of the sultana. If even one word was spread, the whole of Eorzea will be put in turmoil.
A beloved hero fallen in disgrace. That was their goal.
The people will think it was true, yet it was all a set up to discredit Eorzea’s Champion and bring a coup towards Ul’dah’s monarchy.
Disowned by those who we’ve helped. Betrayed by those we’ve trusted. How wayward of me to believe that I can shoulder the burden of his achievements when all I’ve done is ride on his coattails.
Yet he kept his smile, bright and cheerful and unwavering as always. Their smile, I’ve always found comfort in them, the one I can fully trust and the one who’ve always trusted in me even though I was the sole reason that we are in this situation.
I was naïve. How childish of me.
I have failed.
Anger, embarrassment, disappointment, I know not exactly what I felt nor what to feel.
Even in the face of adversity, he had that selfsame expression on his face. This time, it was directed towards me, urging me to move on. He who save this land, he who inspires others, he who is the symbol of hope. Even after everything I’ve caused, he still puts his faith in me, this time, I shall put my faith in him.