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FFXIV Writes Day 1 - Envoy

Endwalker Spoilers, entry under the cut. CW for religious themes and suicide

Nerves had little place in the shared consciousness of the Meteia. Still, the burden placed upon the little starbird, that brave little spark faring the cold, endless sea of stars could not be denied. It wasn't easy to serve as mankind's envoy to their stellar cousins, and she'd met as much failure as success in her first forays. But she'd continue to seek out new peoples, new worlds. To find what gave their lives joy and meaning, and send her findings back to her sisters and Hermes himself. And then he'd smile and give her a flower, like he promised.

Everything would be fine. It would! Even if the first fourteen star systems she'd managed to track were less than encouraging, she wouldn't give up. ...even if more were like the eighth world her sister found, the one that lauded her as a celebrated envoy before annihilating itself and her in the process...

Should I be more careful when I get to this next star? She mused to herself. She hovered her bird form above the atmosphere of her next planet, considering her options carefully.

From a distance, the world didn't appear to be dangerous. There were no active fires or explosions, nor environmental degradation that could prove dangerous to her as she descended. In fact, it seemed almost peaceful.

And yet, deep in her chest, she could feel the cold claws of despair digging at her, emanating from the world below.

Oh no... Not here, not here too!

She dove into the planet's atmosphere, streaking through the sky like a comet as she descended towards its surface, towards the one strong beacon of emotion she could sense, driven by equal parts determination and terror.

It's just lingering sentiment from my sisters, things will be fine here, they HAVE to be!

Yet all the positive thinking in the world could not alter the reality into which she fell. Though there were no fires, no windstorms, no earth-shattering cracks or floods or frozen wastes or plagues choking the air, there were bodies and collapsed buildings. Innumerable, immeasurable destruction, yet tinged with an eerie stillness and quiet, the calm before or immediately after the storm.

There was a man- or something vaguely in the shape of one, albeit far too short for any she knew back on Etheirys- knelt before the rubble, his face coated in dust and dried viscera. She assumed her humanoid form to approach him, gently reaching out to his mind.

[Greetings. Can you hear me?]

The man started, his hand reaching for a blade at his side as he rose to his feet and whirled around to face her. Clearly, he was expecting an attacker, and she needed to chose her next words with care. (Although her programming would allow for but the standard greeting once she began it.)

[Do not be alarmed! I only wish to hear your words. Share your feelings. Know your thoughts. May we please be friends?]

The man laughed, as though the notion of companionship in his current surrounds was some incomprehensible cosmic joke. "Friends? You talk to me in my head, and expect that we can simply 'be friends' after everything that's happened here?"

She tilted her head. ['After everything that's happened'? Could you please explain? I've come from another star to discover what other people live for, and I don't know anything about this place.]

"...you want to know what we live for here?" The man asked, incredulous. After a moment of silence, he heaved a sigh from somewhere deep in his chest. "Once, I knew the answer to that question. We all did. We lived for our God, our glorious Creator. He gave us everything we could ever ask for. Safe haven from the wilderness, systems of law, intellect, art, magic, our very forms."

A bitter scowl crossed his face. "And then we grew proud. We thought ourselves beyond Him, thought we could ascend to His level. One of our number even managed to pierce His lofty heavenly throne, and then..."

The man shuddered. "Judgement was swift. Retribution moreso. He made our towers crumble and collapse beneath their own weight, stole the lifesbreath from our lungs, and proclaimed that once this season's crops had been reaped, nothing more would grow again. He proclaimed us a failure, then abandoned us after unmaking all we had become."

Meteion felt a sympathetic shudder roil across her being, not only from the sheer weight of his emotions, but from her sisters' knowledge of Etheirys. How familiar this tale felt to her ears, to be treasured as a beautiful creation, then cast aside once one no longer served their purpose.

Unbothered by her reaction, the man paused in his recollection of events to address her directly. "And you would ask me what I live for?"

She nodded, whispering in his mind, [Yes! I know things are bad right now, but surely there must still be something that you live for!]

The man shook his head, a hollow look of resignation sinking into his eyes. "He was everything to us, and without Him, we are nothing. We will not survive without His protection and guidance. ...I see now that those of us left alive after he left us were the cursed ones, not the fortunate. He wanted us to suffer and die for our pride. He wanted to punish those of us left behind. I was the last to hold on to hope that He would return. And I will hold on no more."

The man drew his blade and Meteion took a step back, arms raised as if they would do anything to defend her if he struck. [Wait! P-Please wait, there must be something worth living for, some small happiness or joy or hope or favorite food or-!]

Again, the man shook his head. "Fly away, little one. May your wings carry you to brighter worlds than this. There is nothing you seek here."

Ichor painted his neck. A body fell to the ground before the star-faring familiar with the mind of an inquisitive young girl. She fell to her knees shortly after, wailing in agony and sympathetic sorrow as the emotions of all the dead around her closed in like a whirlwind, tinting her feathers black as the void of space from end to base.

It was too much, too much for any soul to bear. World after world, star after star, nothing but sadness and anger and hatred and death and despair and-

No more. No more could she abide in useless hope. She would join the rest of her sisters singing a requiem for the universe, and serve as an envoy of despair.

Her report rang through her shared consciousness to all her sisters. It read:

"Deka-pente. Local civilization once flourished under auspices of higher power. Said power later laid waste to civilization in fit of rage. Upon revealing this to me, entity elected to self-terminate in lieu of providing answer to question. No other intelligent life-forms found."

FFXIV Writes 2023 - Day 2 - Bark

Spoilers for the start of Shadowbringers and some minion flavor text. This is set before my canon WoL fantasias himself into a Viera, so he's a Hyur for this.

Gods, there are so damned many of them. Xander thought, horror coiling like a freezing-cold serpent around his gut.

Ahead of him, the mysterious Crystal Exarch (who'd momentarily earned his trust, if not yet discharged his suspicion) charged forward, driving conjured sword and shield deep into a feathered cocoon before it could hatch to birth a new monstrosity. Selene flew close behind the Exarch, tethering herself to his aether to keep his wounds from getting too severe. Wind tore a few stray hairs from Xander's well-kept bun as Lyna, the captain of the Crystarium Guard, dashed past him with chakrams in hand to tear apart what looked like it might once have been a Gremlin limb from limb before its taunting could dampen her lord's resolve.

"Are you all right back here?"

Alisaie's voice startled him momentarily from his contemplation as she skidded into place next to him, having backflipped out of the way of the former bull, now Sin Eater that broke through the fence before them. She wiped the sweat from her brow and readied her rapier before looking to him once more for an answer.

"So far, yes. My shielding spells haven't broken, and it looks like the Exarch is well on his feet, thanks to his more measured pace. If it'd been Celeste leading the vanguard, she'd have charged through every single foe and dragged them behind her to reach that thing we fought back in the clearing."

"I heard that, you arse!" his one adventurer ally mired in the First with him snarled back from the fields over the fence, her sword dripping with Darkness as she tore yet another newborn Sin Eater apart.

As his eyes swept over both the road (his immediate battlefield) and the fields beyond, now laden with Sin Eater cocoons instead of sheep and livestock, a small tendril of anxiety crawled up Xander's spine. All these sheep and no shepherd. Did he manage to escape, or...?

His unease only grew as a familiar sound carried over the chittering noises of their foes and the distant crackle of flames and echoes of screams ahead. Sharp, repetitive, high-pitched, and utterly terrified barks cut through the din.

There's a dog near here, but where-?

He got his answer a moment later, azure eyes widening in dawning horror as he saw the horse-human-winged abomination that most people became when turned into these monstrosities hovering before a dog about the height of his knees. A black dog with white brindle markings and a red collar around its neck that snarled and snapped and barked at the uncaring creature before them.

Xander received cries of alarm from his companions when he vaulted the fence to enter the fields, but he paid them no heed. The dog. He had to protect the dog from becoming one of those monstrosities. He threw a shielding spell around the both of them, clutching both book and animal to his chest as he knelt over it, feeling the Sin Eater's claws rake at his back. Enough to rend his shield and his clothes, but not his skin.

He held the glyphs for his most powerful offensive spell using arcanima in his mind's eye, holding his hand away from both himself and the now-squirming dog as fiery aether coalesced around it. When the spell was done charging, he twisted up to face his foe and blasted it right in the face with broiling hot aether that forced it to withdraw, covering its eyes. That made it an easy target for both Lyna's charkrams and Alisaie's magic, dissipating its essence into nothing.

The dog in his arms no longer squirmed, but poked their head over his shoulder, barking and whining right in his ear and pawing against his back as if reaching for the retreating form of their attacker.

In that moment, Xander reached a terrible understanding: That eater must have been the dog's former master. The poor thing must have thought they were playing at first, then gotten scared and confused when something that smelled like their master but didn't act like them emerged from that feathery cocoon.

"That was decidedly reckless! Are you all right?"

The Exarch's voice broke through Xander's thoughts, forcing him to stand, carrying the surprisingly hefty dog with him. All things considered, the furry one tolerated being carried rather well, in sharp contrast to when he first found his dog Gestahl wandering the streets of Ishgard on the Source.

Clambering over the fence without the aid of his arms took longer than Xander would have liked, given the emergent nature of the situation, but he managed, and soon reunited with the others on the main road.

"That's a black hayate." Lyna noted, a hint of awe coloring her voice. "I've only ever seen them in books that a few refugees from the eastern lands managed to bring with them. One of them must have taken up residence here in Holminster Switch and used it as a guard dog."

Alisaie's face twisted in sympathy. "Oh, then that Eater we just killed must have been its master, the poor thing..."

Xander sighed, rubbing the dog's incredibly fluffy back. "I thought so too. Obviously, I can't just carry our new friend with us, but I worry that if I let them go, they'll just get themselves into trouble again..."

He looked behind him to discover that Alphinaud and Celeste had gathered on the road to see what was going on. Alphinaud's Carbuncle sniffed the air as Xander leaned down to hand the dog off to the smaller elezen. "Can you hold him and look after him while the rest of us take care of the threats on the road?"

Alphinaud stammered, but did not complain as he took hold of the dog. "I- well, of course, if that's what you want, but how am I supposed to heal those in need of succor if my hands aren't-?"

The tell-tale swish of aether around someone who'd just taken hold of a different Job Stone filled the air, and where once Celeste stood in armor torn from the chassis of Omega with forged moonlight greatsword in hand, now an icy tree branch chilled the air around her, layers of flowing white and red cloth draping across her tall and slender form. "I've been getting back into practice with white magic, love, leave the healing to me. You just focus on keeping our four-legged friend here well in-hand."

Celeste scratched one of the Black Hayate's ears, and it let out another bark, this time of happiness. The sound made Xander let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't realized he was holding. There would be time enough to get to know the dog and enjoy their company back at the Crystarium. For now, he had to get back on the road.

He gave the dog one last scratch beneath the collar before returning at last to the vanguard, sprinting to keep up with them as they made up for lost time and charged for what once might have been the main planting area for the farm. An area over which a suspiciously and horrifyingly familiar shadow now loomed, wings beating erratically as it descended.

Alisaie's dull "So this is where you went..." confirmed his worst suspicions: They'd have to put down Tesleen to advance any further. Xander set his mouth in a grim line and pulled his codex from his hip, readying himself for what would surely prove a trying battle.

FFXIV Writes Day 4 - "Off the Hook"

End of ARR spoilers, messy friendship dynamics, and relational drama.

Finding himself at the epicenter of a dwindling circle of friends was, unfortunately, not a new experience for Xander. He'd been through it many times before, especially before the Calamity, before he had the courage to live as his true self. The names and faces of those old friends had faded into the fog of memory, but the hurt their abandonment and betrayal seared into his heart remained. Remained and flared as he watched Iori stalk off in the middle of the night, proclaiming that he would focus on the true threats the star was facing- the primals- rather than allow himself to become distracted by petty geopolitical maneuvering.

Xander couldn't help but take offense at the auri man's description of the Crystal Braves. Yes, the organization was in its infancy and needed a lot of refining, but the idea was born of pure intentions and was not simple, petty politics. It wasn't, Alphinaud had grander ambitions than that.

Celeste's abrupt departure just after the conclusion of NOAH's investigation into the Crystal Tower hurt even more. When Iori left, Xander had been expecting it- he'd never seen eye-to-eye with the man. But Celeste, his ally, his confidante...

All the elezen left behind was a note.

"I think it's best if I go my own way for a while. Be able to help more people that way. Sorry. -C"

No direct words of confrontation, no litany of reasons why she left. Just an apology and silence. Now, M'hana was the only one left at his side as things in the wider world kept worsening. Rumors of dragons swarming the skies above Ishgard filtered to the Scions, prompting action.

Yet, they still had moments to breathe, moments of levity. Which is why, within the crystalline wastelands Mor Dhona had become, he and his miqo'te companion had set up camp beneath the stars.

After assisting the locals with some rampaging hippogryphs, Xander wandered back towards their campsite with weary step and heavy breath. The only thing that gave him some pause was the familiar sunny chattering with which M'hana filled the air. That she was talking to someone via linkpearl was obvious, but who...?

"...Oh come on, he's really not that bad."

Xander lurched behind a convenient crystal to keep himself out of sight, his heart dropping in an icy pit to the depths of his stomach. He didn't want to assume, and yet he couldn't help the inescapable suspicion coiling around his gut that she was talking about him behind his back.

A suspicion confirmed moments later when M'hana continued, oblivious to her eavesdropper, "No, seriously, Xan is fine. I get why ye left Elly, I really do, I know he was sort of shoving ye out of yer main 'thing' for the group. And- okie, I'll admit yer right, he can be a bit of an arrogant prick just like the Leveilleur boy can, but it's not that bad hanging out with him."

His heart squeezed, an old, familiar dread settling into the marrow of his bones. Dread, followed swiftly by seething resentment. So, Celeste answers HER linkpearl calls but refuses to answer MINE. And M'hana stays in touch with her behind my back, likely PRESUMING that I wasn't like to take it well if I found out...

"..and to be honest, Celeste? I feel kind of bad for the man."

Thump.

"I mean it's pretty obvious he never had many friends growing up."

Thu-thump.

"And it cannae be easy for him right now, handling all this shite on his own. I sort of pity him, y'know?"

Dread and festering resentment seared into rage. Xander's veins and eyes both felt ablaze as that ever-familiar word, 'pity', dropped once more from the lips of someone he trusted more than any other. Pity, sympathy, oh-don't-you-just-feel-so-bad-for-them, look-I'm-a-good-person-for-befriending-them. That's what it was. That's what it always was, never that they valued him, never that they enjoyed his company, oh no. It was always pity and usefulness that drove them.

His fists clenched at his side, his teeth grinding as he tried his damnedest to keep treacherous tears from falling down his cheeks. He stalked over to their shared campfire, M'hana's blithe and cheerful wave only stoking the fires of his fury.

"So. So. You pity me, huh? Is that why you stayed?"

The Sun Seeker's smile shrank by several molars. "...ye were listening in on the linkpearl call, then?"

"Answer the question."

She rubbed the back of her neck, tousling silver hairs at her nape. "I mean, no? Kinda? Not really? Look, it's sort of complicated-"

"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me."

M'hana shrank back as he stepped towards her, brows furrowing in a pained expression as she replied, "I wasn't! I'm not. I- fuck's sake, Xan, I didnae mean it like that-"

And there it was again. The same gormless, spineless excuse. Xander could practically feel the venom in his words as he spat, "Oh, I'm so sorry to have misinterpreted you, then. Pray, tell me then, how exactly did you mean it when you told Celeste you 'felt bad for me'? That you 'pitied me'?"

M'hana worked her mouth wordlessly for several moments before settling into a defeated pout.

"What's the matter? Coeurl got your tongue, Hana? Or are you just scared to admit the truth?"

She sighed, her expression uncharacteristically serious as she rose from her seated position and set about gathering her things.

"Oh. Oh, so you're just going to leave too? Too much of a coward to even bother answering me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, coming from the woman who hid behind the mask of her dead husband for moons and ran away when the world needed her most after the Calamity."

M'hana's body tensed, and Xander felt a lash of regret strike against his heart for those unspeakably cruel words as soon as they left his mouth. He recoiled, expecting for her to lash out in return, to shout with all the fire and fury he deserved for such a comment.

Instead, she kept her voice level. Annoyingly serene. "Look. I tried to give ye more of a chance than the others did, all right? But ye've clearly got some stuff that needs sorting out in yer insides, and ye know what? I'm comin' to realize it en't my job to help ye with it. I'm lettin' meself off the hook. Best of luck with the Braves, Xan. Ye and Alphie are gonna need it."

And before he could say anything else, the aether around her warped to whisk her away, leaving him alone by the campfire.

"...You're 'letting yourself off the hook' from helping me?" Xander murmured, incredulous for a moment before his voice rose to an echoing scream. One that he knew had no chance of ever reaching its intended target. "Well that's FINE! I never needed you! ANY of you! Filthy, parasitical leeches, the lot of you, riding the coattails of the Warrior of Light until he was no longer of use to you! That's just fine, I'm letting all of you off the hook from ever dealing with me again! I don't need you! I don't need ANYONE!"

His last scream echoed for what had to be malms for a moment before he collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands and letting out the sobs he'd been holding in. Bravely as he proclaimed it, with as much cruel certainty as he spoke those words, Xander knew himself for a liar.

He couldn't do this alone. He couldn't. Not when a confrontation with the Father of Dragons laid ahead of him. And so, when he'd finally managed to wrangle his emotions back under control and obtained a fitful night's sleep, he made a quick call in to the Scions for some adventurer backup. He would need the assistance to scale the wreckage of the Agrius. He could only hope that they would prove competent enough to handle the threats before them.

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 5 - Barbarous

Spoilers for Endwalker MSQ, circa level 82-83.

Xander knew Lucia would never exaggerate about the coldness of Garlemald, yet he found himself surprised by the sheer frost both consuming the environs and in the demeanors of the people. He knew any extension of humanitarian efforts was like to be met with some resistance- one did not simply overcome a lifetime's worth of prejudice and propaganda in mere moments- but the fact that many would sooner die from spite than accept necessary aid... It sat ill on his stomach, gnawing at the edges of his fraying temper.

They didn't have to be here, doing this. Hells, most of Eorzea and the Far East would much rather this army was an invasion force come to mete out some justice for all the lives the Garleans shattered over the past several decades. The fact that Fandaniel's forces and the massive spire of horrors in which they- and doubtless, the resurrected Crown Prince Zenos yae Galvus- loomed over their every action only spurred that tiny voice of bitterness that they were wasting time trying to help the oppressors to speak ever louder.

A voice that Xander forced back down inside, again and again. He'd made this mistake with the reticence and seeming ingratitude shown by the people of Ala Mhigo when he'd arrived there a year prior and gotten roundly condemned for his words and behavior. For his inability to see why they wouldn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon for those who would only make their immediate lives worse.

To expect people already writhing on the ground to lick his boots for the privilege of being saved was barbarous behavior, ill-becoming of a hero. Ill-becoming of anyone.

And so, he pushed that little voice, the one now actively roaring that all of this humanitarian effort was wasted on these intransigent bastards, back down into the depths where it belonged as he wandered with Alphinaud and Alisaie through the military installation known as Tertium.

Rage flared and flickered in his veins as his eyes drifted down to the magitek collars around Alphinaud and Alisaie's necks. The voice spoke up once more. Waste of time. Foolishness. They need to be PUNISHED for their barbaric behavior.

He took a deep shuddering breath to calm himself, his frustration coiling in front of him in frozen mist. We're supposed to be taking stock of the situation here. And it's far better that I came here with the twins than anyone else. If M'hana or, gods forbid, Celeste were here with them when those collars went on...

A shudder not prompted by the cold ran through Xander's body as he recalled the reports he heard from Ser Aymeric about Celeste's rampage through the Tribunal shortly after their arrival into Ishgard. There had been a hostage situation then, and she'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't give a damn about repercussions or trauma experienced by the hostage if it meant the hostage-takers were slain to a man. Such behavior then nearly cost them their temporary sanctuary. Such behavior now would forever scuttle any attempt at diplomacy they could have with the remains of Garlemald.

And so, though he felt deep in his core that it was a waste of time and resources both, though he longed to his soul to slaughter the camp to a man for daring to endanger those he loved like his own siblings, he forced those barbarous impulses down, down, down to focus on the mission at hand.

The first soldier he approached rested near some barrels of provisions. When he addressed her, she searched his face for several long moments of confusion before her eyes widened in recognition and an emotion he hadn't expected- terror.

"It's you! Xander Kinneman! My name is Octavia. I- I served under Lord Gaius in the XIVth Legion. I was there on the night the Praetorium fell..."

Octavia shook before him with something akin to white-hot rage and conviction as she continued, "You and your adventurers... you killed them. My comrades, my friends... Swept them aside in their dozens like they were nothing to you."

Xander blinked in stunned shock. He'd still been in the form of a Hyur back then. That this woman could possibly recognize him after so long, and in a different body besides... "How did you recognize me, when I-?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It's your eyes. Those damnable dead eyes. We expected celebration at our fall. We expected sadism or delight or duty. But you... you-! There was nothing in your eyes. Nothing but boredom and calculations. And yet you and your savage ilk call us the barbarous ones while the vaunted, worshipped Champion of Eorzea weighs lives like stones in a bloody abacus!"

She broke off her rant with a manic laugh half-interrupted by coughing. "And maybe in the end, I'm nothing to you too. Just another faceless enemy to be cut down." Righteous fury blazed in her eyes as she glared up at him. "But it won't be long until our countrymen return. Until you get what you deserve. Mark my words."

Xander staggered back as though struck while the soldier returned to her duties, pointedly ignoring his presence. The implied threat registered to his conscious mind, but only barely above the yawning maw of dread opening in the depths of his stomach.

He had often considered the thought idly in sleepless nights where self-loathing spoke louder than good sense, but now he had confirmation: To the Garleans, he was the unstoppable juggernaut that saw naught in the lives dashed against him that Zenos was for Rhalgr's Reach.

Well did he remember that terror, that despair, of fighting to the brink and his best efforts only being enough to mildly entertain that monster in the shape of a man. And to the Garleans, in his calculating nature and unstoppable might, he was no better.

No better.

"Farewell, my first friend. My enemy."

...They should never have come to this frozen, forsaken place. He should never have come here.

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 7 - Noisome

Pandaemonium Spoilers up to Patch 6.4

Lahabrea was not a man to wear his annoyance openly, especially after he'd chosen to abide in duty alone all those years ago. And yet, certain things- or rather, certain people- never failed to make his nerves bristle.

He'd quarreled often with the previous Azem, their perspectives never able to align due to her sheer selfishness. If she had any code guiding her actions, it was clearly an internal one and not her oath of office, as he took great pains to remind her.

Her successor annoyed him even more. As one of his former students, someone who may well have joined the Words of Lahabrea or become a trusted Warder of Pandaemonium had he not encountered some sort of mental breakdown, Lahabrea thought he might have more insight into how this new Azem would see the world.

What a fool he was. The latest Azem took the precise letter of the law and found some way to twist its interpretation to suit his latest antics, violating the spirit of the regulation but not breaking it to the point of earning censure. A practice enabled and all-but encouraged by Elidibus Ascendant. Even more annoyingly, Lahabrea found that he couldn't fault Azem's logic, even if he disagreed utterly with the methodology he used.

One would think this understanding would spark greater harmony, but no. It only made his actions even more noisome than Venat's had been.

Worse, he now found himself almost smiling fondly at the man's latest instance of malicious compliance. Charmed by how thoroughly he understood the rules and proceeded to flout each and every one of them, then successfully argue his case to avoid punishment. And, more damningly, something twisting in Lahabrea's gut wanted to silence Azem's manipulative tongue with his own mouth.

An inconscionable thought. Inappropriate to the highest possible degree. The man was young enough to be Erichthonios' peer, for the star's sake. Not to mention that he would be categorically, functionally unable to give Azem what he seemed to long for, if one trusted his little favors and acts of service to send a message.

It was unthinkable. Impossible.

...Desirable. A trap. He'd fallen for this sort of unpredictable behavior before, and it tore his soul in half, estranging him from himself and his son. No love for anything else, none for the star, no room for anything except raw ambition-

No. He wouldn't fall for it again. Wouldn't fall again. He'd sworn upon the grave of his wife that he would cast aside all fickle emotion.

And yet, like a particularly noisome insect, the desire buzzed in his ear, thrummed through his veins, stoked with each visit, each gift, each simple gesture of kindness laden with subtextual meaning to any with eyes to see it.

Damn him. Damn Azem for saddling him with these... unnecessary feelings.

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 8 - Shed

Endwalker MSQ spoilers, CW for references to self-harm, anxiety, and a panic attack.

Aphroditos curled into himself, inhaling and exhaling on shaky counts of four as he tried desperately to claw his racing thoughts back in line without waking his traveling companion. The sheer enormity of the undertaking he'd chosen, the burden of travelling at Azem's side and leaving behind all he knew, the terror of the unknown expanses unfolding before him struck him all at once, and it was all he could do to resist the urge to flee.

He had to run, but where to? Amaurot wouldn't soothe him, Elpis would only make his condition worse. Running was functionally useless as the last thing he needed was to get lost in the untamed world outside the settlements. Stars, it wasn't even something physical that he wanted to flee, but something internal.

Breathe, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Slow and steady.

This thought, he ran through his mind like a mantra in an attempt to silence the much louder voice that screamed Out out get OUT run flee GO don't belong here don't belong ANYWHERE out out out OUT you have to get out somehow GET OUT-

"Aphroditos?"

Azem- Venat, she'd told him he didn't know how many times to call her Venat- slowly sat up from her bedroll, looking at him through bleary yet concerned eyes.

Shit. "It's nothing, I'm fine. I'm sorry I woke you-"

Venat shook her head and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "You and I both know that it's not nothing and that you're not fine. What are you feeling, Aphroditos?"

It took several long minutes for him to find his voice. The thought sounded asinine as soon as it left his lips, but he found himself saying, "I feel constricted. Like I want to tear my own skin off. Been digging my fingers into my robes to fight the urge."

An urge he'd indulged more than once. It had been a common coping mechanism after a trying day in Elpis. A foolish one from the start, really, but it's not like anyone would notice. Would care to notice, even should his sleeves chance to slip up and reveal the scratches. Easier to excuse it as the work of some unruly creation than to admit the truth.

It was bad. Wrong. He had to marshal everything in him to avoid giving in to the impulse.

"So, do that then."

Venat's words short-circuited the stream of reflection and self-castigation going on in her charge's head. He stared at her, mouth opening and closing several times before he settled for replying, "I- Beg pardon? Did you honestly just advise me to-"

She shrugged. "I'd heard from some of your colleagues that your transformed state is a snake-like creature. If that is so, then why not channel that impulse and shed a skin in a form that needs to do so? That would help sate the urge without causing you to hurt yourself."

"I- Er, well, no, I wouldn't, but I- that is, uh. Huh."

Aphroditos hated how useless his mouth was at communicating in this instant, his words stolen by utter shock and disbelief. All this time, could it really have been that simple-?

A soft smile crossed Venat's face as she addressed him once more. "Many of my esteemed colleagues hold that our transformed state is the truest outward expression of our inner souls. Yours, being more serpentine, might on occasion become too-tight or ill-fitting, especially during periods of upheaval. You wouldn't shame a snake for scraping off a layer of skin and scales that no longer fit, would you?"

Despite himself, Aphroditos found his grip around his robed arms relaxing. "Well, no, but that is the nature of snakes, not the nature of man, and besides which, I don't- I'm not comfortable transforming in front of others." His cheeks went pink. "I appreciate all you've done for me, but we aren't there yet."

The older woman nodded, a look of sage acceptance on her face. "Very well. I apologize, it wasn't my intention to cause you further discomfort."

Her expression shifted to something more contemplative before her eyes lit up with realization. "Still, there must be- ah! What if, instead of transforming, we went to the riverside and did some exfoliation? I'm sure our skin could use the refresher after a few days on the road, and I've some marvelous stones for just such a purpose."

"I don't know if handing me an abrasive is the wisest idea..."

"Aphroditos, look at me."

Sapphire eyes met aquamarine and held their gaze. Venat laid both hands on his shoulders, offering both comfort and distance as she continued, "I'll be right there with you. I won't let you scrub hard enough to hurt yourself. And I don't think you'll want to do so either, once you get started. All right?"

Aphroditos shifted, awkwardly tucking his hair behind his ear. "I wouldn't want to keep you up any later than I already have-"

Venat scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, pshaw. I'll have much more restful sleep knowing that both of us are safe and well. And I'm sure you'd rather have less hours of more restful sleep than more hours of restless tossing and turning."

He shrugged. He couldn't deny her point on that front.

Once they were both cleansed, pumiced, polished, and moisturized, master and apprentice settled back into their bedrolls for the night. And though he must only have gotten four or so hours of sleep when the sun rose the next morning, Aphroditos had to admit that 'shedding his skin' made him feel the most rested he'd been in ages.

FFXIV Write - Day 9 - Fair

Early ShB spoilers

Halone's frozen tits, this is the FUCKING worst. Celeste groused to herself, massaging her feet with oils after yet another long day in the Crystarium.

None of the other Scions decided to remain here, I've become the errand girl for the Crystalline Mean, and to add insult to injury, I'm not even here because I was WANTED or NEEDED. I was just a bloody casualty in the Exarch's attempts to reach his real target, Xander. Because of course it's Xan. It's bloody well ALWAYS Xan.

She threw aside her gauntlets in disgust as she recalled the sheer reverence in the Exarch's voice as he 'apologized for the inconvenience of her summons' and told her of his intentions to bring the Warrior of Light across the Rift. Suppose I should consider myself fortunate that he even knew who I bloody well was, though hells if I know how he knew of me. But GODS, this isn't FAIR.

She flopped back on her well-appointed bed in the Pendants, staring at the ceiling. Even despite the curtains she'd drawn shut, Light leaked into the room, all but blinding to her bleary eyes. Can't even have the decency of calling me directly, and now I'm run off my feet just trying to help the city run smoothly.

[You could just say 'no'.] Fray's familiar voice rumbled from the corner. [You're under no obligation to help these people. This isn't your world, and they're not your concern. You could just while away the hours until your comrade arrives.]

Celeste sighed at her other self's words, laying her forearm over her eyes as she delivered her rebuttal. "No, I can't. My world or not, it's where I'll be living for the foreseeable future. And these people need my help. Plus, I'd be bored just waiting around for Xan to drag his arse over here. And, well... if he doesn't show up..."

While he'd been sparse on details, the Exarch told her when she arrived that her Blessing of Light would be crucial in the days to come, should his summons fail again. Which meant, more than likely, that if Xander didn't show up the next time the Exarch tried his little 'expanse contract, eon become instant' ritual, that she'd become the linchpin to his plans to save the First. If he didn't arrive, then the burden of saving this world would fall upon her.

The thought of truly carrying the world's fate across her shoulders alone sent a chill down her spine. If she wasn't up to the task, how could she ever face all the people she'd volunteered to help since her arrival here? How could she face the Scions? Herself?

...is this what it's like for Xan, I wonder? All this running about like a headless dodo and this relentless pressure to perform acts of heroism?

She shuddered.

Maybe I haven't been fair to him. All this time, I thought he just got off on the plaudits and the praise and all that rot. That he loved soaking in the attention being THE 'Warrior of Light' got him. ...but maybe, in his heart of hearts, he feels as scared and alone as I do right now...

Considering that possibility made regret squeeze around Celeste's heart like a vice. Though she'd long since forgiven him his priggish behavior before entering Ishgard, and he'd done likewise for her behavior after their arrival, she'd not really let go of her resentment that he'd stepped forward as the face of the group. A face that wouldn't have been nearly so charismatic without her help in tailoring his approach to his audience.

Him stepping into the healer's role and offering his critiques from his limited experience only solidified Celeste's anger and bitterness at being replaced within their merry group. And that wasn't fair to him either, when he'd simply wanted to expand his knowledge base and offer assistance. Then again, it hadn't been fair to her to expect her to simply accommodate him changing roles on a whim back then, either.

As her reflections on the past gamboled over one another in her head, a knock on the door startled her from her thoughts.

"M-Mistress Celeste? I was told to come and fetch you post-haste. You have a comrade waiting to see you at the markets."

The duskwight all but catapulted herself from the bed at the hailings of the elezen- elf, they were called elves here- who worked the front desk. She didn't dare to hope, to believe that it might actually be him, but she had to see.

She threw on some clothes and offered a hurried apology to the young lad as she barreled right past him and charged full-tilt for the Musica Universalis. She only stopped running when she passed the Market Board and saw a familiar head of blond hair seemingly having a little chat with Bragi, jotting notes down in that ever-present Codex of his.

When at last he finished taking his notes and took his leave of Bragi, Xander paused in the busy marketplace, staring right at Celeste as if in disbelief.

She didn't know who started running for the other first. All Celeste knew was that she had her arms wrapped tight around her friend while he practically sobbed into the bodice of her dress.

"...sorry- all my fault- here because of me and it's not fair-!"

As Celeste ran her fingers through his carefully styled hair to comfort him, the thought she'd tried to keep buried for nearly six moons came rushing forward to stab at her heart. If we don't succeed here, then he's going to die.

As unfair as her circumstances were, as much as she bitched and moaned about being dragged into this entire affair, Celeste knew one thing for sure: Abandoning her friend to die in whatever future Urianger glimpsed from the Rift would be the most unfair act of all.

And she would never allow it to happen.

We are BACK BABEYYYY FFXIVWrite 2023 is a go!

This link will be updated daily if you wanna follow along on this year's descent into madness! Or I'll post daily anyways. Yanno. Like a fool. Day 1 - Envoy No warnings apply No major spoilers

Estinien goes to see Vrtra regarding a message.

DAY 2 BABEYYYYY

Day 2 - Bark

No content warnings No spoilers Leofard/WoL shenanigans. He stole the last cookie and now he has to reap the consequences.

Day 3 - FREE DAY Word - Dreaming.

No warnings. Light SHB spoilers ? Does the Crystal Exarch dream of crystal sheep?

Day!! 4!! Let's!! Go!!

I also really need these to stop saying New Session. Day 4 - Off the Hook No warnings. No spoilers. Just Urianger and Alisaie and shenanigans.

Day! 5!

Day 5 - Barbarous

Y'shtola and Thancred talk. Thancred is only a little put upon.

Post EW but no real spoilers.

Day 6 - Ring

You know when you get woken in the early morning by your partner and there's salt on the floor? Typical Tuesdays.

G'raha/WoL, Post-EW. Some spoilers. No warnings.

Day 7 - Noisome

Emet-Selch POV, heavy SHB spoilers!

Broody Ascian reflects on life for a minute. Vauthry exists. Unfortunately.

Day 8 - Estinien, Alphinaud, and Kaida walk into a bar....

(Except it's a room and they're just hanging out)

Post-Endwalker, no warnings. No real spoilers. Food spoilers?

Day 9 - Fair

Emmanellain and Sicard bickering. That's it, that's the tweet.

(Mid-EW, no real spoilers. Minor blood tw)

Kaida gets thrown into critically acclaimed RPG Baldur's Gate 3, now with free collector's edition dice up to level 12.

Day 10 - Free day! *Bear noises*

Uh. No...XIV spoilers............. no real BG3 spoilers either really act 1 only

Day 11 - Once Bitten, Twice Shy Set after In Storm's Wake from Tales under the New Moon :) No warnings.

Day 12 - Dowdy

Kaida learns a new word and asks Haurchefant what it means.

No warnings, somewhere in HW. HaurcheWoL fun.

Day 13 - Check

Aymeric and Estinien play chess.

Post-EW, no warning.