Memoirs of Adventure Creative Writing Contest (NA) - Official Entry Thread

Midnight Sage, Mid to her comrades, watched as the slumbering world began to stir. She sat on the shore of Longmirror Lake, her mind wandering, recalling memories of adventures past.
She often found herself reflecting on her adventures. She’d even considered writing a book- “Gridania and Back: A Hero’s Journey Across Realms.”
Mid could still remember the beginning, so unsure of herself, but the desire for adventuring burning like a sun inside of her. She learned how to fight, how to survive. But most importantly, she learned how to heal. Those lessons were the hardest, dealing with what it felt like when a comrade fell. But she learned, and overcame. She was no longer unsure- now she was sure-footed, could stand her own and support her fellow adventurers.
She’d seen nations divided, countries ransacked, left to their despair. Destruction tore through, gnashing like monstrous teeth, ripping people and country apart. Those cherished and lost were mourned. It was inevitable, as an adventurer, that tears would be shed.
All was not bad, however. She’d seen success and triumph. Nations united, bonds forged, people working side by side to rebuild. In her own life, Mid made many friends and still had comrades she adventured with regularly.
On the lake, water rippled gently, sending shivers through the reflections of the trees. The blue and purple hues struck Mid sharply, reminding her of a certain foe’s purple/blue cape. She smiled and she remembered.
She and her comrades had gathered to thwart the threat of Omega. They had overcome many trials, and here they were again, facing down a powerful mage, Exdeath. Weapons were sharpened; strategies discussed. The band of heroes eager to be victorious over such a mighty foe.
The group joked and laughed as they made their way. The mood grew somber, voices quieted as they drew closer. Only the soft swoosh of weapons being drawn remained.
Mid looked at her fellow adventurers. Her friends. She couldn’t help but smile and her heart swelled with both anticipation for the coming brawl and admiration for those standing beside her.
The silence was heavy. One could taste the anticipation; like copper and sweat. Then a snicker broke the quiet. Mid jumped, looking around. The snicker became a giggle. Then another voice, “tee hee”. Soon, half the party was stifling laughter. Mid noticed, her own mouth turning up, a chuckle threatening to leap out.
The party was clad in armor, ready for anything. That is, all of the party save one. Mid could no longer contain her laughter; peeling forth gleefully. The whole group busted into riotous guffaws as they looked at their comrade. There she stood, not in armor, but in wear more suited for water. Not one of them had noticed.
She stood there, cheeks burning with embarrassment and gave a little shrug. The erupted as she looked around at everyone, gave a “silly me” gesture with her hands, and just said, “Oops.”

(Prize: noble barding).

For me, she was the last for the Four Lords to face. Genbu requested we save his kin, and so we endeavored not against the auspices themselves, but their bestial emotions. While all three were possessed with the feeling of rage, Byakko was also wrought with loneliness and isolation, while Seiryu's character was betrayed by those in his ward; a life completely misunderstood. Suzaku-sama, however... how do you save someone from love?

Perhaps, it was the purity of our intent to liberate her from the grief that had bound the wings of her love that gave us the power to soothe her rage. Such pain, such loss, such desire, all emanated from such a beautiful and intelligent being. And yet, to mistake us for Tenzen... To mistake our intent? Maybe, for her, it was a fight against the ideal and the real?

Our fight to bring Suzaka-sama back from the suffocating grip of grief stuck with me even after Koryu's defeat. It wasn't because I empathized with her, no, it was because my talent lay in easing thick emotions like these.

For me, the battle against her grief did not end upon her defeat. For me, the battle against her grief took place 129 times. For me, it was replaying the trial over and over and over in my mind's eye in deep meditation: employing different strategies, equipping different jobs, fighting alongside completely different allies. For me, the trial to overcome was untangling the knot that sat at her core… the knot named Tenzen.

I gleaned that it was a combination of bearing witness to the loss of her dear Tenzen, and suffering the loss of a healthy outlet for her overwhelming love that began the, spiral of depression for Suzaku-sama. With every victory I pieced more and more of it together until I finally understood: it was not about replacing Tenzen and the outlet he provided, his place in her heart will always belong only to him, but to show Suzaku-sama that there are others out there worthy of her love, worthy of her blessing.

By way of extending her love, she would live on in those she touched, and they would, in turn, live on eternal in her. Those she helped while traveling with Tenzen could never be forgotten. In a way, she would grant them immortality within her… but only if she were willing to try again. This is when I knew that the trial was complete.

I would eventually seek an audience with Suzaku-sama, and in return I was the first to receive her blessing anew. She also blessed Noriko, my loving chocobo companion, with fiery red plumage and a noble barding that resembled a divine firebird. Finally, she made a request of me,
"Blaze a new path for this one too." As a newly hatched scarlet peacock took roost on my shoulder.

So, I have been. Heavy, debilitating emotions like grief and loneliness and inadequacy affect us all, so it is up to us to use our love and our strengths to ease the despair and cover the weaknesses of our allies. To be the Firebird that burns eternal the flame of hope.

Scarf of Wondrous Wit

“Truly my friend I wish you had been there and not only to lend your strength, but your council would have been welcome. There was a depth of emotion and thought that I feel that only Urianger can and would try to understand. Yet I can’t help but feel that even he would not truly grasp what it meant to me to strike the man down. I do not regret what I had to do, only the fact that it had to be done at all. To think a man who had lived a life so far beyond our own ephemeral, and perhaps even beyond our understanding, would choose such a course. Was there not another way? Could one not be thought of or did he simply refuse to? If he did refuse to was it maliciousness? Cowardice? Or had he simply felt such pain of heart and soul, he latched onto the one path he was sure would succeed without fail? “ With a heavy sigh, I’Chai could only raise his cup and with the gentle clink of metal and a muttered “Cheers” he threw his head back.

As the warmth of drink rushed through his body, he could not help but heave another sigh. “As warriors, both you and I defending our nation, our homes from any threat that comes to it with all that we are, not for some sense to save the world as the Scions do but simply to save our home and people. That the world is saved is a secondary accomplishment, for we in our hearts would save our homes and people first as is our duty. Yes, I am sure you would understand this and the burden it weighs on a soul.” Brushing a finger across his link pearl I’chai listened for a moment before rising from the ground with a sigh.“Speak of the voidsent and they appear. Duty calls, my friend; yet before I go I would share something with you that will make you smile.”

“In my travels, I have gained a friend and ally that, while young, her spirit would rival your own in its desire to protect others. Your words, my friend, I have passed on to another. “ Brushing his fingers over the cold stone and the name engraved I’Chai could only smile “As you said, a smile better suits a hero and I think from now on Ryne will smile as you would have me do. Be well my friend, I will visit again soon.“

https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/acc...9ac64bce2e.png

*If chosen to receive a prize I would like the Noble Barding, please. *

Dear, whom it may concern

I have many found memories playing Final Fantasy Fourteen for the PC. I first heard about Final Fantasy Fourteen from a fan run panel at Anime Festival Orlando (AFO) 2017. I was reluctant to start an anther subscription based MMORPG game as my first experience with a MMORPG was on a game where you could pick a goddesses of light to play or a goddesses of darkness to play by a company that I don’t think exist anymore that I can’t remember the name of did not end while. After attending the panel “The history of Final Fantasy Throughout the ages.” I pre-ordered the three-pack combination of A Realm Reborn, Havensword and Bloodstrom from amazon. I have yet to finish Bloodstrom but I ended up per-ordering the collector edition download of Shadowbringers from the square-nix website.

What made Final Fantasy Fourteen so attractive was that it was very single person friendly and there was the option of having more than one job on a single character. Now two years later I am a part of two FC companies and I have six characters. Even through you can multi-job on Final Fantasy Fourteen I still enjoy playing different races. Other things that make Final Fantasy Fourteen so fun to play is the long in-depth story line of the main quest line and each expansion pack has its own story unique to that expansion pack it’s like four Final Fantasy games in one Final Fantasy game.

I cried when Papalymo died and Minfilia got trapped somewhere in between the world of Aetheryte and the world of Final Fantasy Fourteen. I have been utterly shocked to the bone when I find out that yda was actually Lisa and a bit confusion but once I head her side of things why she lied about who she was things made a little more sense. I laughed when Y’shtola slapped Thancred for making that comment about her being as naked as her name day. This was when Y’shtola was pulled out of the world of Aetheryte. I remember feeling on top of the world when I slayed Midgardsormr and his dragon kin. I have felt invincible when I stormed Doma castle built into the hills overlooking the waters below the far east with the help of lord Hien. Just to name a few of my Favorite main quest line memories.

Now I must become the Warrior of darkness. Honestly, I have been staling because I am not sure what things will be like on the Dark Side and I have become fond of being the warrior of light.

Your Friend,
Usagikyo Chitsuki
Zalera
Noble Barding

I'm not sure who will read this. Given my status as an eleventh son to a family of Keepers, I'm not sure if anyone will. But write I shall, believing in that flimsy concept known as luck. 'Tis hard to believe I began my journey mere months ago, fresh-faced with little more than a grimoire at my side and the clothes on my back. I could regale you with the entirety of my adventure, from the bandits of La Noscea to the impossibilities of the First, but I think it best for you and I to recall that which I treasure most fondly. I speak, of course, of my party, my comrades-in-arms, my friends.

The first I met by chance in Ul'dah. 'Tis difficult to describe him, as he constantly changes appearance and race, even to that of a woman! The changeling greeted me on the desert sands one day, and I, as if I had known him for years, answered him in kind, quickly forging a relationship. He is a kind and witty soul, if loud and prideful. His powers are as indecisive as his appearance; one day, he plays the machinist, the next, he is enraptured by the melodies of the bards.

I was later introduced to the second, his partner-in-adventuring: a Highlander, much taller than I, with unkempt hair and a well-kept beard, his mere existence a pillar of strength in the bustling city streets. His face and voice betrayed one another; he seemed exhausted, and yet he spoke to the changeling, and to me, into the long hours of the night. His strength, however, is far more faithful to his appearance; little can break through his guard once he loads his cartridge and grits his teeth.

The last joined soon after the Dragonsong War had come to a close, a Lalafell who aspired to be a powerful Red Mage. Oddly enough, he had the same hairstyle as I, though he preferred grey to my green. Like the changeling, I felt as if I had known him for some time, but, like me, he was yet unfamiliar with the world, and joined us in the hopes that we could teach him through trial, over study. Though his temper (and his height, for that matter) is short, his heart is large, and is always willing to lend a helping hand. He still has much to learn, but I truly believe in him.

I will admit, my entrance to the world at large was... taxing. I found my fairies difficult to control, and what little arcanima I could command earned the ire of those who expected more. But my allies were different. Rather than anger, I drew their sympathy; I was not merely a means to an end, but a self, a presence. In truth, I have become even more, having mastered arcanima, and even now, I endeavor to study the ways of the Hingashi samurai. Through them, I now see my own potential.

Should someone read this, and find their heart moved by my words, I should be glad to have written such. May you find your sanctuary, your Twelve-given allies, as I have.

Yours,
A near-illiterate Scholar

https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/acc...5f8809eece.jpg

(Bluebird Earrings)

My fondest memory is the first time I played a game of hide and seek.

As large, wooden doors creaked behind and with a quick glance towards the grandfather clock in the adjacent room before the doors closed and blanketed the area in a black shroud of darkness, the race began. I scanned the immediate area, only to be left with disappointment upon locating nothing suitable. Only the tick-tocking of the grandfather clock served to remind me of the task at hand. Each step was swift and precise as I searched my way through the dimly lit hallways of the mansion that seemed almost like a complex maze one could never find their way out of. Which way was I supposed to go? There were so many options. Each second spent thinking was another wasted, consumed by the constant, yet slow passage of time I could never get back as it made my heart thump increasingly harder while time ticked itself into oblivion.

Flickering candles overhead and upon candelabras on nearby tables provided little solace in the encroaching darkness as I reached for and grasp a nearby handrail of sleek, finished wood to cling onto for safety as it guided my body down a flight of stairs. Creak...the sound of aging boards echoed against the walls and rang in my ears, but was soon replaced by a deafening silence upon reaching the depths of the basement. It appeared as a foreign environment once its vast, open halls were deprived of light. Instead, the dark’s embrace crept forth and clung tightly around my body, leaving me destitute of the calming light I had begun to miss so dearly.

Rubbing my eyes, I steadily became adjusted to the darkness that blanketed the area as I guided my hand along the smooth, cold stone walls to ease my way through a corridor that seemingly stretched for miles and towards a room in the far distance that resided in the very depths of the basement. Step after step, foot after foot until I crept up to and peered just past an overarching doorway. Scanning the room, a table nearby draped in a regal tablecloth proved suitable for my needs - to which only time would tell if I had made the right decision. My diminutive stature allowed me to merely lift the cloth to allow myself underneath and into the void within.

GONG!

The clock beckoned. I curled myself up into a ball underneath my safe haven to await my fate and listened for footsteps that quickly proved futile over the hammering in my chest. It was not until my eyes darted towards a stream of light pouring underneath the long cloth overhanging the table that made me freeze in fear.Time seemed to stop as footsteps grew louder and ever closer. Soon enough, slender fingers snaked underneath to grab hold and remove the cloth from the table. Light burst forth, temporarily blinding me before my sight readjusted to the visage of my dear friend. “Found you, Popu! Now it’s your turn.”

After that, we took turns finding each other until we were both ready to fall asleep!

I would like a Gaelicap please!

“I’M NOT DONE YET!” Iskandar roared against the screaming winds of bitter cold. The smell of iron tainted the air as he could see his allies trapped between the cliff edge and the deadly quarry they faced. Blood stained the pure white snow like an open wound upon the earth as his fellow party members stared at him with a mixture of shock and amazement that he was even standing after the drake had smashed into his armor.
https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/acc...181b217468.png

“What are you doing! RUN” Cornelia shouted but even with adrenaline pumping through her veins like fire, she couldn’t bring herself to run toward Iskandar.

Despite his instincts, despite a plea from his lifelong friend and the pain, Iskandar didn’t flee. He gritted his teeth into a feral snarl as he threw himself at the drake. The sounds of battle exploded around them as Iskandar and the drake exchanged blows. Even through the pain, the drake thought itself the victor of this hunt when in a surprise to both combatants Iskandar let go of the sword to grip the monster’s chest in a viselike grip. Iskandar let out a war cry as he threw himself and the drake toward the cliff edge. The two fell off the side as the mixed symphony of cries and shouts were lost within the howl of bitter wind and ice.

Cornelia crawled over to the edge of the cliff, panic racing through her eyes as her mind raced.

“ISKANDAR!?” She shouted as she saw her friend hanging from the cliff face. The drake’s limp body hooked around Iskandar’s leg, planning even in death to bring him down. Blood dripped down his body as he let a tired smile form along his lips, a nostalgic feeling washing over his tired frame. How many times had he done this? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Hold on! I’ll pull you up!” Her hands tried to reach out for him.

“You can’t pull me up.” Iskandar stated as the rock wall began to ripple with cracks; small chunks and pebbles fading into the white mist of nothingness below. The cliff wouldn’t be able to handle the weight of the whole light party, let alone the drake clinging to Iskandar’s leg.

“NO I WON’T LET YOU DIE!” Cornelia screamed, tears turning to ice droplets before ever reaching the ground.

A somber laugh left Iskandar’s lips as he smiled back up to Cornelia, “You already did. You, Chris, Cat, and all the others of the Astral Vanguard; you saved me long before I saved any of you. This world is cruel, downright unfair sometimes, but all of you have shown me that life is something worth fighting for. That even for someone filled with darkness, there is still a mote of light left.”

His fingers slowly let go of the rock, with Cornelia crying out for him to stop.

“I am glad to have met all of you.” His words left a trembling smile on his face as he let go of the cliff. Iskandar closed his eyes as the dim light of the stars began to peek through the clouds of grey, smiling as he faded into the mist.

1,524 yalms, and counting.

The makeshift lift was still dropping through the Ragnarok’s drive cylinder as I caught my breath. Uncomfortable as it was, I sat atop the broken remains of an ancient and colossal Allag machine. One that had been, just moments ago, trying to turn me into nice new coat of Highlander veneer for the floor.

Wading deep through the rest of the metallic wreckage littered about, my Brother swaggered over to me. With an axe ever stained with blood resting against his shoulder, he grinned almost hysterically, laughing the laugh of a man that knows he should be dead. Clapping a hand on my shoulder that rivaled the size of a La Noscean dodo, he shook me excitedly.

“So,” the massive Roegadyn said between laughs, “two at the same time. How’d that work out for you?”

I didn’t realize I was still gripping tightly at my sword’s hilt when I gestured to the remains below me. His still good eye followed the point of the white blade as I swept it toward another hulking heap of thoroughly thrashed machinery not too far from where I sat. Attempting to match his enthusiasm, and failing handily, I forced a shaky smile myself.

“Could’ve been worse,” I replied, trying to look past him. “Right? Everyone’s okay?”

He stepped aside, thumbing in the direction of where the rest of our crew still stood. The madcap Bard that never missed a shot, let alone a note. The brazen Monk that always dared to be first to the fight. The stoic Dragoon that could not settle for second best. The soft-spoken Black Mage whose soul burned brighter than the rest of ours combined. The paired White Mages, who would sooner see the second coming of Dalamud’s descent than watch us collapse from our wounds.

I choked a bit when I saw them all still on their feet. Still on their feet, and not in a disheveled mess from being brought back from the brink by a recently applied Raising. Each and every dent on my shield, not to mention the damage wrought beneath, had been worth it.

No, it had been beyond worth it to weather the savage beating as I had at the hand of those two dreadnoughts. All just to see them smiling in triumph, to hear their cries of victory. Even if it took dredging the furthest depths of my resolve just to survive, I wouldn’t trade a moment like this for all the damnable tomestones in the world.

(Thank you for reading. The Noble Barding is my choice, should I be selected.)

I’ve never once come to regret my heritage and even today I stand by my words. Though not written in the annals of history, Lalafells have been a staple food for many, a well-kept secret amongst adventurers. Unbeknownst to me, I had joined a Free Company filled with faux friends whose faces grinned ear to ear knowing my eventual fate. It wasn’t long before we were touring the F.C. house. Led down aged steps before being thrown into a cage. I was given leftover popotos day after day, as if mocking my very existence. Fellow Lalafell inhabited nearby cages as well, but slowly their numbers dwindled until few remained.

My time left in this world was short as one of my brethren left with each supper. We heard whispers around the dungeon, talks of Lalafells being sacrifices to the gods for rare drops or roast Lalafell being the greatest delicacy. I had to find a way out, to escape this prison that would lead to my demise. Banging on the cage only brought pain to my tiny hands and the keys were much too far from reach as my arms were that of a Lala. Yet it had slowly dawned on me over this past month, the cages we were given were slightly too big for some Lalafells! Being the runt of my family, I was smaller than most. Able to fit through the bars as long as I folded back my massive ears. All I could do now was wait as I searched for a time to escape, but security was tight as each member left their fat cats to keep watch on us 24/7.

I had no choice, as rumors were spilled that the Lala with the massive ears was next. A few hours before supper, only one fat cat lay in silence fast asleep and that was when I made my break. Ears folded back I slipped through and tried to sneak using ninja training I had learned shortly before my capture. Yet as I snuck the upstairs Orchestrion changed to the Shadowbringers boss theme and it was well known that you cannot hide while in battle. The fat cat’s eyes sprung open and lunged catching my Lala leg. I could only limp up the stairs and through the doors of the FC Hall. The sun greeted me for the first time in days as well as a delightful chirp. My chocobo lay stabled, my only chance for escape with this damned leg. Hopping on, the crash of the front door echoed. An Au’ra riding her fat cat emerged and the chase was on. Each corner turned a fat cat followed, bloodlust in its eyes, never such a fear I have felt by one so supposedly cute. All the while the Aura on its back threw rocks in hope of maiming either one of us. Twists and turns in the streets of the Goblet were so foreign to me, but we ran past houses and houses until finally the fat cat no longer followed and I was free.

This is now a message to all out there. We Lalafells are friends not food. If you are captive, you can escape and we can all be free once more. There is always hope, even if we cannot see it beyond those that are taller.

Tatsu Katsu and Meep the Chocobo

(If I win I would like the Noble Barding!)

Approach again, young friends.
As time forfends the hurt of dens,
Now lost…

We were four. Truer company hath never been so free…
Our land, score. Costs a few million gil; our sanctuary.
We toiled, we tinkered. Design at our pace, resources our enemy.
Creativity sparks flickered. Limited space, yet unlimited possibility.

Our company bared the crest of dragons, and the names of the stars as well.
We champions branded celestial dragon roots, caught no recruitment swell.

Our little home in the mists. Just us four. Perfect historical harmony.
Yet grander goals twist, yearning for more. A merging ceremony.

Myself, a meager crafter then. Supplied my allies with wares of war.
My new alliance, my orders thrice fold, I truly missed the days of yore.
Goals ever changing, mansions in waiting, money needs making, mine devils.
Started from the bottom, sold brass accessories for slaving through low levels.

Augmentations a goldmine, new Syrcus is just fine, and this rare item? Yours! ...for a price!
These gil loads, all mine. And always in just perfect time! Why you ask? Heed my advice.
These mansions, they sell quick, and trust me, they’re quite slick. All the hours lost to time.
Lock the in the payment! *click!* Well that should do the trick! Sighing these words of mine…

Duty Complete.

We did it! The builder of realms! The gillionare! Now reset to zero.
Get with it! Put on your helms! All fanfare starts for the heroes…

Our merged company now starts anew, furnishing the future with wares made of dreams.
Yet time has different plans in view, and change is never still, thus it always seems…

This ballad has been one we’ve been dancing around for a while, what once was a singular goal…
Now the nocturne of fate, a fissure of interests, divided parties, and the prelude to lost souls.
For each era promised a destiny to be matched with an octet…
Ever dwindling numbers yet could only provide a quartet.
As more leave, the exodus gains momentum. A duet.

Years later…

I made this happen. The walls, furnishings, faults… all mine.
The foundations crumbled; these walls still hold empty time.

I’ve banished all but a few who visit during holidays. We could no longer come to terms.
From hundreds recruited down to… just… one…

I still try to update and maneuver this place into a vision of what I wanted all along.
But, one person living alone is as cold and lonely as the point of this song.

The fondest memories, mine history, were with friends now gone.
Yet, change is ever on the dawn. I will rebuild anew; live on.

__________________________________________________

Thank you for reading, if chosen, I would appreciate a Noble Barding.