Day 21 - Shade

Day 21 - Shade

"Why is it called the Black Shroud?"

The young, blonde Miqo'te looked up from under white tipped bangs, his tail flicking back and forth behind him as he sat on the log besides his mother, watching her wash their clothes and pestering her with curious questions, his sharp mind already on display as his ears flicked this way and that as he took in the sounds of the town in one direction, and the sounds of the forest in the other. His mom paused her humming, looking up with sharp blue eyes, her hair oh so similar to her son's blowing in the gentle breeze, just without those moon-kissed tips like her son had. She seemed to think, and then pointed towards the forest, one hand still massaging their clothes in the warm water.

"What do you see when you look between the trees?" The young boy sighed, rolling his eyes as he got yet another one of his mother's famous questions-as-an-answer. But, even if he was annoyed, he did still look, and he stared between the trees, and just...watched.

Sunlight filtered between dark leaves high in the sky, dilapidated patterns of light across the grass and shrubbery. His turquoise eyes danced with the light, following it, his head tilting, and he nearly jumped in surprise when he saw it. A shift, and a tiny little head lifted from its resting place in the grass, and with the head visible, he could see the rest of the doe's tiny body. Spotted, young like him, and with the dancing lights, impossible to see without that bit of movement, and even as he stared right at it, he found it hard to keep it in view, because its instinctual stillness played into the natural camouflage of its spots. But now that he could see the doe so close, he started to see other things.

A bunny, munching on a clover, watching him with interest. A snake, slithering right by the bunny, neither caring about the other. The mother deer, standing by a bit deeper into the woods, watching for anything that might hurt its offspring. And the little Miqo'te couldn't help but let out a little "whoa..." in awe, and turn back to his mother.

"I get it! It shrouds those living in it!" His mother laughed, and nodded, wringing out a shirt and looking at him.

"And how does it shroud them?"

"With shade!"

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Kaleh'a startled awake, his eyes flying open as he listened carefully from his perch high in a tree, taking in the sounds of the forest around him and slowly relaxing, unsure what had just woke him, but what he heard gave him no warnings about potential danger. He settled back in, thinking over the dream - no, memory - he had just had, and he smiled warmly as flecks of sunlight danced over his face.

It was warm memories like those that reminded him why he kept returning to the Black Shroud, to his home. This place, with it's shrouding shade and thriving wildlife, would always be special to the Keeper of the Moon, and he would forever be grateful for its lessons.

He closed his eyes, and let the dancing sun and warm day lull him back to sleep, just as much a part of the forest as the forest was a part of him.

Day 27 - Memory

No, not again, not here.

He couldn't move, the Eorzean men and women bravely charging around him, fighting with tooth and nail against the encroaching VIIth Imperial Legion. They were holding their own, each and every one of them, pushing back the larger force, but Bryn couldn't move.

He was rooted in his spot, like his boots were full of lead, like he was frozen in place by what he was seeing as they sky overhead burned red. He had fought here, he had seen friends die here. But he hadn't fought here.

No, this was the thick of the battle, this was not where he had fought with his small contingent of soldiers on the flank. But all of it, it felt far too real.

He heard it, the cracking sound of artificial earth, his head jerking up and staring up into the sky as the red moon, now so much larger, broke apart, magnificent wings bursting free from their prison, followed by claws, maw, and fiery death. He saw as the primal roared with the rage of his imprisonment, witnessed as its wings curled in and then burst open, unleashing a flare of small fire spears that rained down on both armies, and spread out throughout the land to seek other targets. He saw one strike a butte to the west, and obliterate it.

Where Bryn had originally stood on this battlefield. Where he had barely survived.

This wasn't his memory.

He saw the spell cast by Archon Louisoix fail, saw the monstrous beast in the sky ready to unleash a blast that would destroy the world as he knew it, and felt the cocoon of magic start to envelope him. He reached out, for Louisoix, yelling something, anything, to tell him to stop, to not do this -

But there was only darkness, and that sad smile on the Archon's face as he faded from view.

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Bryn started awake in a cold sweat, gripping the sheets he was under with panted breaths, the chill of that memory seeping into him as he took a slow, steadying breath, and breathed out. That wasn't me. That wasn't me. Not that it was worse than what he had gone through, but that moment, that moment was not his own. And that, that was calming.

"Hear, Feel, Think."

A voice, that voice, again, the one he thought he had heard before, had denied before, his teeth gritted as he growled out in frustration at it again. "Why me?" he asked to the air, to the presence there, and swiped a hand at where he thought it could be. All he hit was air, nothing was there, but he did feel that presence shift, fade, become nothing.

But it didn't change the fact that he felt like it had left something behind. Whether he liked it or not.

Day 12 - Quarry

The Black Shroud was alive with sounds and animal life, the ziz squawking about some meal they had found, bats screeching at each other, and anole running by in small packs as they chased down some small critter.

Trees waved in the air, their thick branches full of leaves rustling with the breeze, casting the customary deep shadows over the forest floor that earned the Black Shroud its name. The myriad of plant life that thrived in the shadows supported a booming scavenger ecosystem, the small and tasty game spread throughout the Black Shroud as they tried to avoid becoming a larger beast's meal. And for the most part, the larger beasts could easily find enough to survive and thrive too.

But every once in a while, one of those beasts got too big. Became too bold. And some lone traveler disappeared, or was injured, or their remains were found. It was a sign that some culling was needed, that the predators had grown too powerful and threatened the balance of the forest.

In those very same trees that swayed in the breeze, something shifted, something dressed in deep brown, blending in with the bark with a shirt of green like leaves. Crouched and still, like he was, a traveler or an animal would be hard to spot them, and in fact, a little squirrel passed right by him without even giving him a second look.

His bow rested on his lap, an arrow already in hand, his turquoise eyes scanning the forest floor about twenty fulm below him, watching the pattern of tracks carefully, the ziz that stormed by, the anoles that followed in their wake looking for scraps, and then finally, as he watched, he saw it.

The anoles, typically, didn't follow ziz around, the larger creatures more likely to turn and eat the smaller pack animal than leave them be. But when he saw what was following them, he understood why. Sometimes, the protection offered by a larger predator drew the smaller predators to them. Because the Alpha Wolf that followed was on the hunt for something tasty.

Only a soft chitter was given as the squirrel by Kaleh'a darted off as the archer raised his bow, drawing back the string with practiced ease as he watched the thin, lanky wolf stalked by, its whip like tail swaying in the air as it lifted its head, scenting the air, pausing for a moment to search for its prey. All the while, above it, the wooden bow Kaleh'a held stretched taut, arrow nocked, sighted, his breath drawing in...

It turned, looking up-

The arrow released with a small snap as the string slapped against the arm guard the archer wore on his left forearm, feather flights singing through the air as that snarling face turned up to look at the archer above, and the archer stared down his quarry. It was a second, between firing, and when the arrow struck, perfectly, finding the fleshy softness of the wolf's eye and burying itself deep into the skull behind. And a second more as the Alpha Wolf keeled over dead, the snarl permanently fixed on its face as Kaleh'a let out a sigh of relief, a shiver running down his tail.

"Didn't expect it to see me... Well, one down, one to go." After all, each wolf pack had two Alphas to deal with, and if Kaleh'a didn't take care of them, he wasn't sure anyone else would.

voidtouched-blue--[Previous]

Gods, I hope they invent a less uncomfortable method of travel, she thought. Steadying herself with a short walk to the railing in the Gridania Aetheryte plaza, she took a few deep breaths as she smoothed back her ears. She clasped her staff to its holster on her back using a small gesture of aether to fasten it quickly. Hearing the somewhat familiar padding of footsteps approach from behind her, she spoke without looking. "I'm all right. I just don't travel much by Aetheryte."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He couldn't help the mock gasp that left his lips at her admission of her own wayward tail, his hand covering his lips as he gave her a playful, horrified look. "Not the patients! And here I thought all healers took an oath to do no harm!" He laughed, letting the facade fall to reveal his teasing grin, his hands swinging amicably by his sides as his tail responded in kind, flicking like hers as he regarded the strange, striped appendage. Yes, Miqo'te, but he had yet to see one striped. Of course, staring at another's tail was not the most proper of things to do, so he was quick to avert his gaze before she noticed, his turquoise eyes flicking up to her face just in time to catch her blush.

A cute thing, hidden by little shakes of her head, but nothing could hide her small smile, and he hummed thoughtfully at her words, mulling them over as he walked along beside her, tilting his head after a moment and murmuring, "'What is required of me...'" It was an interesting way to view the world, he supposed. Far different from his own. Albeit in ways similar. He let the moon guide his steps, and acted as he himself wanted, not from a higher calling, or at least not yet. Maybe one day he would, and he would understand what she meant by those words, or maybe he already did know, with his penchant to help those around him. But he couldn't get this nagging feeling out of his head that it was an almost dour way to look at life.

The short hop back to Gridania proper was uneventful for the blonde Miqo'te, the little tingle of aether after his travel making him shiver and grin, only to turn with some concern as he realized his blue haired companion was not doing quite as well as he was. He approached her, his tail nervously flicking as she leaned against the rail and clasped staff to her back, his hand unwittingly travelling to her shoulder as he gently placed it there, his eyes full of worry as he leaned out of the balcony to take a look at her face, her words confirming what he saw. "Cyra, I didn't know you suffered from Aetheryte sickness! I would have hired a Chocobo Porter instead!"

And he really would have, to spare her the feeling of sickness, and himself from having to see her struggle so, his eyes softening. "To think you put up with travelling there and back without so much as a complaint... Come on then, first round is on me! As apology for not noticing sooner. And I can handle the report if you aren't up to it." He didn't particularly want to, not with the reception he had received earlier, but he truly wasn't sure if she could make it more than five steps without keeling over. If there was one thing he knew, you took care of the healer! Besides, he could handle a few suspicious guards.

Day 18 - Hackneyed

"May Menphina guide you."

"I'd prefer she didn't."

Kaleh'a nearly choked on the air he was breathing at the grumbled reply he got from Bryn, the Keeper of the Moon visibly unsure what to do or say in response to that. It was such a common phrase, just a simple one to wish good luck on a companion or friend, and to have it so abruptly turned on him like that... "But why!?" He asked back in shock, and Bryn snorted.

"If that hackneyed phrase did anything to help, I would have had a much different life." He shifted on his feet, shrugging as he sighed. "You know my story, my life. I prayed to the gods for years and they never answered."

"But that doesn't mea-" Kaleh'a took a deep breath, and calmed himself, his tail flicking about in agitation, and then slowly calmed, letting his mind formulate a thought, and he finally took in a deep breath and sighed. "Just because they don't answer, doesn't mean they don't care."

"They have an odd way of showing they care."

Kaleh'a couldn't exactly fight that comment, since the truth was they really didn't answer very often. He couldn't remember the last time Menphina had made her presence known to him, but he did know she had reached out. "Okay, maybe they don't always make themselves known, but they do! I have felt Menphina! I'm moon-kissed!" He reached up, brushed his hair, the white tips of his bangs, and Bryn shook his head.

"Moon-kissed... Fine, you argue they exist, and perhaps they do, but what makes them different from a Primal?" Kaleh'a scoffed, and Bryn raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm serious. Tell me, what makes them different than a Primal?"

"You can't be serious!" Kaleh'a was incredulous, pacing back and forth, tail flicking, ears up at attention, his face twisting and contorting, his hands pounding together. "The Twelve are universally recognized as deities! They aren't primals, they aren't twisted, they don't enthral us!"

Bryn was silent, for a long moment, and he slowly crossed his arms. "No, they don't. But they also don't answer when we pray. If you were to ask me, I can see why the beast tribes are so infatuated with their summoning. To them, their god answers."

Bryn slowly leaned back against the tree behind him, sighing heavily, and staring at his boots. "I get it. You believe so hard that your goddess is real, that she watches over you. But to me... I prayed when my father beat me. I prayed when my father beat my mother. I prayed when Garlemald invaded. I prayed when death hovered over me. All I got for answers was pain, suffering, a...curse. Why would I believe in your Menphina, when she is so closely tied to my curse?"

Kaleh'a was silent, his eyes staring at his own boots, tail drooping, and he didn't say anything. For ten seconds...twenty...thirty. His gaze lifted, and his eyes gleamed with confidence. "I don't buy it. Just because they don't answer, doesn't mean they aren't real. And I've heard Menphina, her voice, felt her power. She is real, I believe that, I know that. Because I have felt her. But you...you haven't." And his face fell, and he kicked at the dirt under his boot. "You have no reason to believe, to think they are real. But you also have no reason to believe they are Primals."

The Miqo'te's eyes snapped up to Bryn's with a fire in them, crossing his arms too. "You prayed, and prayed, probably even offered yourself up to them, but they didn't answer. They didn't get summoned. So maybe...you can't believe in them, but you also can't compare them to a primal. So I hope one day, you actually feel the touch of the moon, and understand why I believe."

The Hyur stared with unwavering silver eyes into those turquoise ones that gleamed like starlight, and for a moment, it felt like he could understand. But he knew that he was not yet ready to believe twelve gods stood by as his homeland was raided, and thousands killed. Still...he could give the archer some points for his argument. "Fine," he rumbled out, uncrossing his arms. "Not Primals, and maybe real. But if I meet Menphina, or Hydaelyn, or any other deity... I have some strong words for them."

Kaleh'a grinned, and nodded, shrugging in passive agreement. "Fair enough! But uh... Promise not to kill Menphina?" Bryn just laughed, which did very little to comfort the Keeper.

Day 14 - Telling

"What gave it away?"

Bryn sat flat on the snow under him, the black and detailed helmet of the Garlean Empire resting next to his black armored legs, so stark compared to the white forest around him. He shared the embankment he was hidden behind with an archer, dressed head to toe in speckled white clothes, pants, boots, long sleeve shirt, jacket, even his hat, all built to blend into their environment and keep them hidden. And given how quickly the blonde Miqo'te had shucked the hat off, he did not like the chosen attire.

"This has to be the ugliest outfit I have ever worn. Period. The end." Kaleh'a grumbled a bit more, before he glanced at Bryn and lifted an eyebrow, registering the question a bit late as he hummed. "Gave what away? You've lost me."

Bryn grunted, silent for a moment, as he carefully checked over his armor. Was something out of place? But the entire thing was just as non-descript and intricate as any common foot soldier of the Garlean Empire, a perfect disguise for his infiltration of a Castrum. Blend in, get in, gather info, get out. And as a Hyur from Ala Mihgo, conscripts from his homeland were common enough. After checking all was in order, he asked, "How did you know it was me?"

"Ohhh! That? That was easy," and the message runner pulled out a piece of smoked lamb jerky and bit into it, leaving the ex-soldier flabbergasted as the Miqo'te seemed perfectly fine with not elaborating. Bryn lasted all of a minute before exasperatedly blurting out again.

"But how?"

Kaleh'a paused his snack fest, and gave the older man a look, shaking his head and shrugging. "Well, first, the mask doesn't really hide your eyes. The silver bleeds through, kinda cool actually. Top that off with your scent - which, by the Twelve do they let you bathe? - and your gait, it was all very telling."

Bryn fell silent for a long moment, and then softly muttered, "I have a tell."

"Huh? No! Not at all!" Kaleh'a laughed, finishing off his jerky and pulling out a letter and handing it to Bryn. "Look, I'm a message runner. I have to recognize who I'm delivering to by sight, sound, voice and scent. Sometimes with just one of those things. Throwing armor over your entire body, hiding your face, and changing the way you talk isn't going to throw me off. Anyone else? Sure! Now, hurry up and take this letter so I can get out of this frozen wasteland."

Bryn snatched the letter from the Miqo'te's hand, his short, nearly buzzed hair starting to ice with his helmet off already, and grumbled some more about Kaleh'a's deductions, reading the letter carefully...and scowling. "Should I ret-"

"They both verbally and explicitly told me to not let you return, and that it was mentioned in the letter." The archer rolled his eyes at the undercover man, and snatched the letter back, shredding it and scattering it in the snow. "Alright, now, I'm gone! Good luck!"

And before Bryn could object, the wily Miqo'te was gone, swinging up into a tree and darting along its branches, leaving Bryn to mutter into the silence, "I have a tell..."