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

[MisoRyn]

“Miso, are you ready for this?” Kit asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Good luck. See you tomorrow.” Kit’s pointed ears twitched as she waved goodbye. She sauntered away, her Miqo’te tail swished back and forth.

I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Hey shortie, let’s go.”
“You know, Jada, I’m average height for my race.”
“Right. Mm hmm.” Jada patted my head.
I scowled. As a Lalafell, I belonged to the shortest known race in all of Hydaelyn. Taller races loved to make fun of us, with our child-like appearance.

A whistle sounded.
“Time to go.” I beckoned Jada to follow me down the hill to the Shirogane docks.
The ferryman was counting gil as Jada and I got into the boat. He pushed away from the dock, and rowed us across the water. We reached Kugane’s docks without incident.
“Drinks?” Jada asked.
“Nope.”
“Pfft.”
“It’s going to be chaos here tomorrow.”
“I see, well, be careful. Don’t get trampled.”
“Are you saying that because I’m a Lalafell?”
“No, Miso, there will be thousands of other people here. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Jada kneeled down and gave me a hug. I waved goodbye and headed off towards the inn.

Bokairo Inn sat on the northwestern corner of Kugane. I entered the inn, and went to my room. I closed the door behind me. Stretching, I yawned and plopped on the bed. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.
My eyes opened, and I panicked. Dawn rose without me. I tucked a pouch full of gil in my pocket before rushing to the docks. I was not prepared for the sheer size of the crowd. It was chaos.
Ferrymen stood at the ready. The crowd pressed forward, and I heard a splash that was from me falling into the water. My arms flailed about.
“Miso!” A voice shouted as I was lifted out of the water into a boat. “Miso, are you okay? Speak to me!” Kit shouted.
“I’m fine.” Looking past Kit, I saw that the boat was moving away from Kugane. I patted my pocket; the coins were still there.
“Kit, what are you doing here?”
“I tried calling your name, but the crowd must’ve been too loud for you to hear. We saw you fall into the water.”

The boat arrived at the Shirogane dock.I hoped that the land I had picked out was still available. I didn’t make it far before I fell. Too much water in my clothes.
“Ow!” I yelled.
“By the Twelve, Miso. Can’t you go anywhere without hurting yourself?”
Kit picked me up, then sprinted up the hill. We reached the top, and she sat me down. The plot I desired was still empty. I touched the wooden sign. A box appeared, and I placed the pouch of coins in it.
“Is something wrong?” Kit asked.
“I paid the price; I don’t know what- “
Kit’s face was shocked. A Hingan mansion appeared.
“Miso, you did it!” Kit exclaimed.
I had a prime real estate. Soon, I could start building a restaurant empire that would rival anything that Rowena could ever concoct.
“This is a new beginning in which I will finally make enough gil to take down Rowena,” I said.


[Noble Barding, please]

[Austell]

How tender is your touch,
how soft your breath,
how light your heartbeat, my love.

While you sleep, I have a tenderness like yours;
while you sleep, my heart is kin of your heart.
It flutters tirelessly while I look at you.

We held hands above the yellow scar of Mor Dhona.
I, too, am scarred;
I, too, must hold my jaggedness aloft
to scrape the sky of its stars,
to score my mark on the ward of the heavens.

You have helped me in this, and so
skewered the sun
on the point of your sword.

Thus do we hold hands,
as above the scar of Ishgard
severing land from land;
as two climbers on a mountain cliff,
as two wanderers fumbling in the dark,
as two women raftless at sea,
as two enemies of fate
mighty
and helpless,
our fingers like knots—
our hearts like butterflies:—
tied together.

We have been all these things,
now.
We have surpassed metaphor—
your longing metaphor,
parched beneath a tireless sun;
my aching metaphor
cracked in half
and in half,
and in half.

We have surpassed it.
We have made our selves real
and carried them as we have pleased,
in our arms, our own possessions, no one else's—
we have taken these selves so far
as to lie here, side by side;
that while you sleep, I might compose poetry
which you will not hear, which I will not speak
on our wedding day.

But you will forgive me
if I do not worry for your sake;
if I am secure
in your hands;
for your hands have weathered storms,
for your hands have weathered suns,—
that clasp mine,
perfect, ardent,
inseparable.

And how fierce is your breath,
how thunderous your heartbeat,
how defiant your presence beside me,
my love.

---

(thanks for reading! if this happens to be chosen, i'd love the Gaelicap.)