The weapon to surpass all
I got it..
I got it!!!
I skipped 3 days of college for this!
And now its mine!
https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/acc...a1301241cf.jpg
Gaelicap!
The End of the Dragonsong
I can still remember the acrid scent of smoke and burning flesh. I feel the hatred boiling the air around me. Tis not my anger, but the Greatwyrm, Nidhogg. The Wyrm’s Shade had possessed Estinien and his enduring rancor had corrupted his form. Nidhogg was reborn and he would bring an end to the Dragonsong War by laying siege to the Holy See of Ishgard with the full might of the Dravanian Horde. I tightened my grip on my lance as my fellow adventures began their assult. Seeing an opening, I leapt high into the air and crashed down on the wyrm’s back with the full force of my body, shoving my lance deep into his hide. I ripped the lance from his body and leapt from back, but the wyrm’s gaze had now turned to me, and before I could react, he unleashed his gathered aether at me and I was hit with the full force of his fire and everything went dark. I took a desperate gasp as my body was lifted from the floor. Rays of light surrounded me as my wounds sealed and my energy returned to me. I picked up my lance once more and we continued our attack against the mad wyrm. He let out a piercing roar with enough force to knock us off our feet and wrapped himself in a cocoon of flames. The cocoon dissipated and my eyes fell upon Estinien, his body twisted and corrupted into a horrible amalgamation of human and dragon. Nidhogg crashed down on the battlefield using a corrupted version of the Dragoon dive. The Shade roared in indignation at our audacity to survive his attack. We continued to wear the wyrm down until once again he took to the skies. The battlefield was seared with bolts of black lightning as Nidhogg descended upon the battlefield in his draconian form, wreathed in flames and glowing with aetheric power. He crashed down on the bridge with the full force of his body, causing shockwaves and tremors that almost threw us into the endless abyss below. He brought all his dragon might upon us, filling the battlefield with swirling darkness, exploding fireballs, and searing us with his white-hot flames. With our final assault, the mad wyrm let out a final roar as the aether that made up his body dissipated. It had been a long road to reach this conclusion, paved with the lives of dear friends, stalwart comrades and bitter enemies. But the Warrior of Light’s work is never done; the Ascians are still out there, scheming plots to resurrect their dark god; and the Garleans continue to move their armies against Eorzea in their mad campaign to rule the world. That is why I stand here in front of your grave, dear Haurchefant, to see you one last time before I depart to foreign lands. Taking a knee before your headstone, I offer a silent prayer: “For those we have lost. For those we can yet save.” (Noble Barding)
Submission for writing contest
Gather round the fire and let me tell you a tale of the most beautiful sight i have seen.
I pulled my blade from the smooth gelatinous white flesh of the sin eater. I cast my eyes too the endless expanse of gold and white swirling above,only to find... Dissapointment.But then, Just as the beast was about faded back into the blinding abyss it had come from. The aether leaped forth into my breast burning at my very being. Not wanting this to be my end, I cast the light upward like a blade to cut the very sky in twain.
Once the light had dissapated i saw it like a glittering ocean of jewels. there, between the two columns of failing light lay the sky that i and many others had longed for.
We had become warriors of a different kind, not of light but of darkness we had become, shadowbringers.
If by some chance i win i,d love for the royal barding.
~Prisefighter118
A Tale from a Doomed World
Delwyn’s knees ain't what they used to be and the long days on the road are not easy on him. He can’t complain, they need workers at the Crystal Tower, and they promise food and shelter, you don’t see that much nowadays, what with the realm on fire and all.
He sits down, someone hands him a piece of stale bread and a cup of hot chocolate, it ain’t much, but it’ll keep him going.
“Oy, mister!” a voice calls behind him.
“Mister, tell us about the Warrior of Light!” says a beaming boy with a dirty face. Many others flank him.
“All right, lad, what would you all like to hear? How about the time the Warrior of Light met his equal in battle?”
“Zenos zos Galvus was his name. A fearsome swordsman big as an oxen and with teeth made of iron, some say he could even see the future. But our hero was not deterred; he strode through Ala Mhigo defeating his soldiers single handedly...”
When he looks around he sees that not only children, but grownups are getting close, slowly and shyly at first, and like an avalanche later.
“So the Warrior of Light kicks the door to the throne room open and sees that the evil Zenos had defaced the treasures of our Ala Mhigo. Zenos turns to face him, his eyes full of cruelty and malice. He says, ‘Ah, my only friend, my prey...”
It was a party now. The children still at his feet listening intently, two young men play at being Zenos and the hero in front of an audience, he never heard of the Warrior of Light wielding a book, but there are a lot of stories, who knows?
“Just when it seemed it was over, Zenos lifted himself off the ground, the wound on his chest seemingly not a bother anymore. He looked straight at our hero and let out a deafening bellow. He transformed into his true form, a dragon the likes of which the realm had not seen since the Seventh Umbral Calamity.”
“What did the Warrior of Light do!?” the children yelled.
“A true hero does not lose heart! He scrambled back his feet and rushed to the enemy ahead. They fought for what seemed like an eternity, he dodged fang and claw, the fire and lightning could not touch the graceful hero, and when he saw his chance, the Warrior of Light climbed the tail of dragon, sliced the wings off the beast’s back and they went into free-fall...”
He knew to leave them with bated breath right before finishing a story.
“The dragon struggles and the Warrior of Light holds on for dear life while they plummet back to the throne room. When they reach it, the dragon lets out one last gasp and is silent forevermore. Zenos’ discarded sword has lodged itself into his own heart.”
Everyone claps and yells, they thank him for this small respite.
The man next to him hands him a bottle of wine and says, “What do you think happened to him?”
“Who knows? We don’t even know if he really existed.” He sighed. “But without his tales those kids wouldn’t be going to bed with a smile on their faces. Just that makes him deserving of the title of hero”
(Gaelicap)
To friends I have made, friends I have lost, and friends I have yet to meet
To the friends I have made, the friends I have lost, and the friends I have yet to meet,
The days we have traveled together throughout The Source, I have found joy fighting beside you as we bring light to the darkened corners of the realm. Even as we travel the foreign soil of The First and bring darkness to the weary world of white, I know that in our hearts, you will help me carry the burden of hope as we deliver our hefty bounty to the people so in need of it.
For this and for so much more, you have my eternal gratitude and friendship.
Your companion throughout the reflections of time and space,
Aachi Suto
________
prize selection - Noble Barding
Where Our Journeys Take Us...
Where do our adventures lead us?
I have often pondered over this question ever since I first took to Eorzea and her myriad peoples. My journey started out not unlike any other adventurers’, nor does it hold any import to the time of the present. Yet in all the time I have spent traveling & seeing the many wonders of Hydaelyn, the question still lingered, especially one fateful day in Limsa Lominsa.
I received a summons from my dear friend & rival, Alia Mewrilah, whom I met during my earliest days of dueling in Wolves’ Den. Alia requested a meeting at the lower decks of Limsa, stating only that they had someone they wished for me to meet. I could only wonder who this stranger was, though anxiety plagued me. After being in a slump and on a personal hiatus from the Den for the winter, I worried myself with thoughts of a new challenger looking to train with me and the many duels that would ensue, yet still I made my way there.
“There you are! Come, come! Let me introduce you to a friend I made down at the Den!” Alia made her presence known quickly as I felt my shoulders slump down at the idea of being proven right, however bittersweet of a victory it would prove to be. I made a valiant but vain effort to hide my exhaustion after being told that this stranger was looking for someone to teach them how to be a better Samurai.
“Relax, Kenward! There’s actually another reason I wanted you to meet them.” Alia’s fluffed ears twitched before giving me a look of pure honesty. “Listen, I can't explain it, but I really feel that you and her are meant to meet each other.” With one last playful wink, Alia turned me towards the figure approaching from among the usual Lominsian crowd. A lone Lalafell stood before us, her twin-tailed hair the color of a wild chocobo. She was geared up in Garland Ironworks armor with a katana at her side.
“So you’re Alia’s teacher? Well then, teach me how to be a Samurai! Right now!” She stomped up & down excitedly, catching me off guard. Yet even then, I still found myself gazing at her. It was not her demeanor nor her looks that had me captivated, but her eyes. They spoke to me in a way that, looking back now, I could only describe as one thing.
Confidence.
“I’m only kidding of course! The name’s Adai Nazengine, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ken!” Adai chuckled at her outburst and keenly smiled at me. Alia meanwhile scurried off, mentioning something about browsing the market while we got to know each other more.
And so we did. We talked at great lengths until the sky grew dark, exchanging stories and memories. She told me tales of her journey to Eorzea and through every detail, every conflict, every victory and loss, I could see her growth through it all, the confidence in her eyes giving truth to every word.
Even now I still remember this, the day a dear friend introduced me to my future wife, and the adventures that lead us to where we needed to be on that brisk afternoon in Limsa Lominsa.
(Gaelicap)
Returning to a Realm Reborn
Caduceus steadied his hands. He continued to work the fabrics spread out before him: Serge, Felt, Wool. The fireworks were thundering outside from The Rising celebrations. His listened to them and let his mind wander as he started to work. He shut his eyes as another firework peeled in to the sky; he could not forget that day.
***
Caduceus fled from the meteor. He left Ul'dah with the few gil he could ply from stitching cotton underclothes; the prospect of the calamity bearing down on Eorzea, watching it descend closer each passing day, was too much. He felt his insides twist whenever he looked in the sky. What safety could the walls of Ul'dah provide against a twelves-forsaken celestial moon, Dalamud? Not to mention the imperial forces pouring in to Mor Dhona. He would flee. He had to. What other choice was there?
And so he packed his few belongings and left with his fiancé, Emilia. Most overland travel had ceased between nations when Dalamud's proximity to Eorzea began affecting all wildlife. Beasts were more aggressive, monsters began appearing, and reports of empire scouts waylaying supply caravans made travel, at this point, a dangerous proposition. Regardless, he secured passage through a dear friend. A Miqo'te, who called himself 'Fenrir' who had bade him to retreat to Gridania.
"We'll be there soon." Caduceus said as much to console himself as he spoke to Emilia. She grabbed his arm.
"I hope so." Emilia said. They both stared outside the carriage at the moon for awhile before they began to hear the sounds of battle from afar. First the horns of Grand Companies, then the shouts of men, explosions--screams. Even those not sensitive to aether could surely feel the swirling maelstrom of energy from Carteneau.
And then it happened: a brillant flash above Carteneau, and fragments of the moon, each perhaps a malm long, exploded in every direction. Caduceus and Emilia last shared a glance at a Mercydian nightmare from a forgotten age. Bahamut. They saw one beat of its wings, the flares streak across the sky, and then blackness took them both.
***
"It's already been another year," Caduceus said to himself aloud as he worked the final stitch in a 'fat cat' sofa. He stood up, stretched, and instinctively rubbed at the mark between his shoulder blades. Another year since the Wood Wailers pulled their unconscious bodies from the ruined carriage just beyond the Rootslake. Another year since since he devoted himself to Conjury to repay the mercy the elementals granted him. Another year since Emilia and he took up adventuring together. Another year since Emilia had mastered the secrets of thaumaturgy. And another year since they married in the Sanctum of the Twelve. He felt guilty for fleeing in Eorzea's time of need all those years ago, but he returned. He had finally heard Hydaelyn's call, and he would not forsake it again.
(Noble Barding!)
You've All Got Game in My Book
(Noble Barding)
It was hot, even a mere 18 suns past Heavensturn, on the day we gathered in Southern Thanalan to award an errant tiger to one of our most devoted Hunters. It was hot, yet it was a momentous day for The Clan Centurio, and the whole of the land was there.
There were delegates from Ala Mhigo, once exiled nearby, stoic Hingans, and we Ishgardians, wilting under the sun in our Coerthan robes. The Mythril Eye, Harbor Herald, and Raven had sent their reporters, delivering blow-by-blow accounts of the scene into their linkshells. On the southern slopes a few curious Amal’ja eyed the event, keeping their distance to avoid provoking the crowd.
And a crowd it was! Even on a normal day an S Rank attracts dozens of the realm’s finest warriors, and this occasion had doubled its size. The golem Nunyunuwi idled at the fore, its disinterest a stark contrast to the buzz of excitement around it.
“Is Kage here? Is this his 2000th S Rank?” a Hunter shouted.
“So the legends say,” another replied.
“Let’s let him pull!”
And so they did – the crowd parted, and the miqote-of-the-hour, in his trademark red crown, strode forward and began to cast.
Adventurers themselves drive the Hunt, without the militant prodding of Grand Company orders, or the urgency of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn missions. Those thrillseekers who labor to draw out the most dangerous of Rank S marks do so of their own desire, as do those who trek the realm bell after bell battling even the smallest of Rank As. For many moons they, not we, had counted down in anticipation of one of their own reaching the goal we had set, and today rallied about him.
A flash of frenetic activity, and in an instant the rocks that made up the terrific golem faded into the landscape. Silence fell and the Hunters looked about to see what came next. The Chairman wove through the crowd, stopped before Kage, and proffered a summoning horn. With a broad smile, he loudly pronounced, “Adventurer… You Got Game!”
Cheers and {Congratulations!} erupted. Fireworks and chimes echoed through the arid canyon. Though blushing, the wag in the miqote’s tail betrayed his joy – surely this would become one of his fondest memories. The Hunt may rival Ishgardian lawn tennis for its petty politics and competing factions, but today he had united it in celebration.
Kage kept his remarks brief, for it was a hot day. He thanked those who lured the marks from hiding, those who ran the Hunt linkshells, and most of all those who had hunted alongside him on his long road.
We wish here to echo these sentiments. The Hunt is not something that can be done alone, but nor is cooperation the natural state. Thank you, adventurers, for overcoming differences, for working together. Your camaraderie has taken The Hunt to places we never imagined it could go.
With humblest sincerity,
The Clan Centurio
https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/acc...89f869ad86.png
To the Girl Who Tried Her Best
To the Girl That Tried Her Best
Dear Tataru,
I’m not one for words, in fact, most of my communications to you thus far has been naught but stoic nods. Truthfully, I am a shy, scared individual, who has stumbled on something far greater and demanding than I ever thought possible. All of Eorzea demands of me; my presence, my ability, and my willingness to fight to the bitter end. The world thinks of me as the “Warrior of Light”, a defender of the realm. They see me as a weapon, one meant to fight primals and any threat that comes to our shores. But they don’t understand the danger I put myself in, the fear that I face every time I take up my axe and fight. Any mistake I make would have grave consequences, not only to myself, but to all the land. Sometimes, I feel like a fraud.
So Tataru, I write this letter to you under the possibility of my demise. Pray, forgive me my melancholy, but the reality of a “Warrior of Light” is one of danger that could only end in tragedy. Before that comes to pass however, I wanted you to know the effect you have had on me. Of the fond memories that I share with you, and the memories that continually encourage me to fight.
The desk was too tall in the Waking Sands. You could barely peek your head over the books scattered on the desk. But when I approached, a stranger to the Scions, you welcomed me in. Amidst a team comprised of skilled disciples of war and magic, you were the receptionist. But you took to your job as dedicated as any Scion. We were fighting gods and monsters the average man could not even imagine, but still you stood by my side through it all.
You let not your position or background hold you back. When the Scions had moved to Mor Dhona and needed more funds, you picked up the pickaxe and tried yourself in the Disciple of the Land. Despite your best efforts, you were not successful. But still you tried. You even tried yourself in the Arcanist school of magic, and still met failure. I fondly remember your carbuncle ignoring your commands (do not worry, it happened to me too, but with Eos. Trying to command her to use Whispering Dawn instead of Embrace at critical times, can be quite difficult). What I remember most however, was your resolve.
Despite everything, you do not give up. You put the needs of others before your own and face every challenge head on. You are a sweet, small girl with the strength of courage and resolve more so than any Warrior I have ever known. All these memories I have of you, encourage me to keep fighting and remember just who I am fighting for. The scions, whom I now call friends, would be the lesser without you.
Pray, keep facing every challenge. Keep your head held high and keep trying. Because of you, Tataru Taru, I certainly shall.
Yours truly,
Lyall Sevus
(Gaelicap, it is super cute!)
Message in a bottle- From a far away friend
As I write this, I can’t help but think back to that day in Limsa Lominsa where my long journey first started. Young and unfamiliar with the ways of Eorzea I set out, axe in hand, eager to make my place in the world.
But as a sprout I should have known growth takes time and tending and sadly, just starting my journey, I had no one to watch over my mishaps and short comings. So, it would be that I would continue to struggle alone. At least, that’s what I thought, till I met one kind stranger.
I didn’t know what to think of her and only saw the worst in myself. “Why would anyone take interest in a Marauder with so little to offer? I know nothing.” I thought to myself as she continued to try to get me to talk.
“I’m not very good,” I told the stranger, willing to admit my short comings.
“That’s okay, I can teach you.”
It was at that moment I remembered the words of Chief Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, “Victory is a far-flung shore. Mark the skies, abide the tide, trust your crew - and she will be yours.”
After training for a few weeks, I continued my journey, at times still failing. But little by little, more strangers came along, helping me through my trials and tribulations. I saw growth and improvement, and they did too. I found that more and more of my one-time allies were now friends who came to me for help with their own problems.
As I sit on the docks of Limsa Lominsa where it all started, I just want to give thanks to that first friend, and all the others that followed. Thank you all for reminding me the that a real adventure isn’t meant to be taken alone, but to be shared with others who share your same feelings.
May the navigator guide on your journey till the sea swallows all.
Always at your service,
The Maid in Blue
(Bluebird earring)
Lambda's Answer- A Sisterly Eyewitness Account
Little did I know that we would be outmatched by an anomaly waiting for us– no, waiting for Lambda. Fortunately, Kaede managed to escape the chaos to warn him, but not before a Temple Knight had sent a messenger to bring my brother into custody under charges of blasphemy. I’ll never forget the look of fear on his face when he saw me on the ground, having been bested by the greatsword-wielding simulacrum he referred to as his “master.”
“Rosie!” Lambda cried out, rushing to my aid, only for a surge of aether to knock him back and form an impenetrable barrier separating us from Kaede. “What have you done, Master!?”
The shade laughed. “‘Surrender your weapon’? After what happened in Ul’dah? They must be mad,” he said, then turned around to address my brother. “Pay attention, Lambda DiMaria. This could be the greatest moment of our life… That is, if you could stop denying the truth that's been staring you in the face since the moment we met.”
“What the hells is this about, Fray?” growled Lambda. For the first time since the murder of our mother, I could see the full extent of his rage. The morphochromia he inherited from her side of the family was on display for all of Whitebrim to see– his mahogany eyes were now burning crimson.
“Say my name,” continued Fray, venom dripping in his voice. “Say it. My real name. Our real name!” It was as I suspected. The soul crystal Lambda found in the Brume had taken a shine to his anger and hatred, and formed a separate entity born of the abyss within my brother’s heart.
“Come now, you knew Fray was dead from the beginning, but you didn’t care! You had a sword and a soul crystal. But what you wanted was a mentor. A mentor with the gifts and the knowledge. A dark knight who could guide you on the path– who you could aspire to become.” The shade looked at his hand for a moment. “A man who was free to say and do the things that you would not… Even now, you continue to deny it. Well. Deny me all you want. You cannot deny what we have done.” Fray shot a menacing glance at me and a handful of injured knights.
“What ‘we’ have done?” shouted Lambda. “You hurt my family!”
“Have I not been good to you? Have I not given you everything I promised?” retorted Fray. “Did I not help you to hear the whispers of our very soul!?” His eyes emitted an ominous glow as his aether gathered into a dark aura. “Open your eyes. Look. Do you see now? Do you see?” Suddenly, Fray collapsed on the cold stone of the plaza, but the aura he exuded moments ago took on another form– the spitting image of the man who shares my blood and family name.
“Everything up to now has been your story,” proclaimed Lambda’s dark twin, drawing his weapon. “And everything after now will be mine!”
Lambda had no choice but to respond in kind, and so began their duel. This was the opening I needed to find cover.
(Thank you for reading my excerpt. I'd like to receive the Bluebird earrings.)