Final Fantasy XIV: The Winter Calamity

Baderon Tenfingers had become a humble tavern keep after retiring from his wild days as a mercenary. As the son of Lodewicus, founder of the Adventurers' guild, Baderon had many tales and woes that he was willing to share over a cold bottle. One of those woes washed in from the docks just last night. 

It was close to high-moon when a couple of strangers wandered into his tavern, the Drowning Wench, and grabbed two rooms. A man with a white plume of feathery hair and a younger man with a trimmed wave of pale pink hair. The one in pink looked girly to Baderon, but it didn't matter what he thought. The little bastard was attracting his wait staff.

"U-Um, excuse me sir..."

Since when did she talk like that?! 

"Get yer' arse back ta' work!"

It drove Baderon crazy. He was nothing but relieved when the strangers went to hunker down within their rooms. In the morning however, an obvious terror had descended upon the Limsa Lominsa.

Those very same guests walked down the stairs in long saintly robes that were lined with gold stitching. The outfits screamed that they were emissaries of the Twelve in some way. However, they carried tools that created a bit of a chilling effect. Both wielded an ash colored book and a hardwood hammer that emitted blatant bloodlust. 

Baderon couldn't help but have a headache. It was obvious to the man that the two fiends were looking for trouble. Walking around Limsa like that would get one targeted quickly. But with those hammers they gripped in their hands...

"Hey. You."

"M-M-Me???"

Surprisingly enough, Baderon wasn't the only one who could sense something off about the strangers. The others who frequented the tavern that morning were wary of starting something of a trouble. Perhaps it was the beastly instinct that lay within every man. Something that screamed danger. Baderon's senses told him it was so.

"Tch. Nevermind."

The girly one was the most aggressive. He would make eye contact with every bloke who looked something fierce. None of them looked at the lad for long though. Baderon nodded his head internally. He was happy that no victims willingly walked their way onto the plank. The newcomers were provocative, but they weren't doing anything illegal.

Today, the Drowning Wench was full of smart people. 

"What chee gawkin' at ye' pretty milk drinkin' pussy! I ought ta' bend ya' over me lap 'an 'ave a time! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Nevermind.

Should he intervene?

"Are you a pirate?"

An obviously strange question. If the bastard had a lick of sense, he wouldn't answer that. Depending on his words, the law wouldn't protect him.

"Ye bet ye arse, pussy boy!"

A poor answer. Baderon decided today was a good day to finally change out the filter on their new keg stand. He had put it off for 4 days too long.

"Ahhh, good~"

The pink one smiled brightly. The lad was too pretty. His light cherry lips shined like they were covered in gloss. His eyes, a pair of pupil-less cloud-blue gems, glowed like the shiniest pearls. His lids were dazed and innocent, as if he was close to nodding off. His teeth, whiter than the stones of Lominsa herself. His less than bulky figure didn't help to distinguish him as a man, even covered by robes, one could tell that he was thin and delicate.

There were captains going about every now and again, snatching men like him to use aboard their ships on long voyages. It wasn't just men doing the snatching either. A sizable portion of piracy was committed by women down on their luck. A boy-toy like this was something they'd pay good money for. This was probably one of those very situations. The lad would be sold or taken away to Twelve know where.

Just when Baderon was about to say something-

Shiiish

The stranger bolted from his spot towards the pirate. He was fast, Baderon could barely keep up with his eyes. 20 years of experience and the pink lad was still able to slightly evade his sight.

WHOOSH-CRUUUNCH

"GYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH."

The pirate's shoulder was directly crushed under the immense weight of the stranger's swing. Amateurish in appearance, but the young man's immense speed made up for his barbaric technique. The pirate's torso slumped over, making it clear just how well the bones were snapped and broken. Blood soaked the hammer and the pirate's garb. Baderon wasn't sure where it came from, but the smell was sobering.

As expected, the girly one was a crazy bastard that was looking for trouble, but Baderon didn't speak. He rather liked his shoulders. Limsa Lominsan law was loose. There were already talks ongoing to outlaw piracy for the past year. To still claim such a status and to start a fight...

Baderon glanced at a Yellow Jacket, the new arm of Limsa Lominsa's glorious Maelstrom Company, nearby. The Yellow Jacket glanced similarly at Baderon. He could hear the bastard's voice in his head.

"Ye' can 'andle 'em if 'ye wish. I fer one be keepin' me 'head top an' eye 'elow deck."

In short, 'I'm not saying anything. Feck off.' Where was the honor they swore up and down about? Didn't he get paid a salary?

With shackles being put onto piracy in Limsa's waters, the Admiral had dismantled the Knights of Barracuda and re-distributed its forces. 

While not yet official, with the council of a young, but fiercely studied Miqo'te, the Maelstrom was being reformed into an organization that could halt the Empire.

"GHHHHUUUAAAAA! ME-ME ARRRRRRRMMMM!"

"If you repent, I can save you. Do you repent?"

"GHAAAAAHHH! YE CRAZED BASTARD! YE BLOODY-"

WHOOOSH CRACK

The stranger broke his femur next. His hammer arm swung down like a judge declaring their intent. The pirate had been condemned to death. No technical ability or special form. His attack was simple and fierce, more savage monster than man. 

"GEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAHHHHH!" 

The pirate screamed. Tears and snot ran down his face like rain. No one stepped forward to help.

"Repent, you sinner! Repent and you shall be healed!"

"LEEEEAASE! 'BODY ELP MEEE!"

WHOO-CRRRACK

His hand.

"REPENT YOU MOTHERFUCKER DO IT! REPENT RIGHT NOW OR I'M COMING FOR YOUR COLLARBONE NEXT!"

"AHHHHHH! MERCY MERCY!!! PLEEEEASEEEE!"

"BEG! BEG YOU SAD SACK OF SHIT! BEG FOR MERCY! REPENT!"

"'LEEEEEEASE!!!! GUAAAAAAAAAAAA! 'ERCYYYYYYYY!!!!!"

Baderon didn't move from his spot. He was supposed to change the filters, but he found himself rooted in place to watch the show. It reminded him of a drama that he witnessed within Gridania's Amphitheater as a wee lad.

The man with white hair finally moved. Walking forward with divine poise and grace.

"Bit brutal, don't you think?"

"You heard what he said to me?"

"sigh. Hello friend, as you've chosen to repent, we can heal you fully, but first you must admit to your wrongs."

While the demon of white opened his book, the demon of pink pointed his finger bestowing a miracle that graced the halls of the Drowning Wench.

POP - CRACK - CRACK

The pirate's arm became less distorted. He was being healed somehow. Baderon was confused. What was this spell? Where was his staff? How did he do that? A sense of seriousness overtook his casual disregard for violence.

Conjuration was powerful, but as far as the ex-merc knew, it couldn't snap bones back together like that. It could only accelerate healing. Of course that meant it could close open wounds and the like, but to fix up the bones, one would still need a splint set. For the pirate to be healed from his state...

These two men were not so simple.

"Pray tell, how did you become a pirate?"

Through broken sobs and frightened glances, the sorry sack of shite told an all too common story for the feathered demon to consume. One of loss, scrambling on the streets for a pick of bread, being taken in by a crew and growing fat with wealth, food, and women. The danger was just the spice. Each scar told a story that he was proud of.

"Have you ever thought that perhaps you had a higher purpose?"

The pink one started talking. Baderon had no clue where this was going.

"You've struggled and starved. You've bathed and wined. Despite seeing the lowest lows and the highest highs, you still find yourself unsatisfied. Don't you?"

The highest highs? Was being a pirate a particularly high place of being?

"I...aye. I be unsatisfied. 'Sall the riches in ta' world couldn't bring me' peace..."

Oh, he fell for it.

"Indeed. Your heart does not feel full because you have not yet established your place in the world. You chase after hollow vanities and cheap thrills. All falsities to hide how empty your purpose truly is. Even after all these years, you find yourself in a bar, drinking, and alone. How could this be it? How could this be as far as you could go? Your body grows weak and fails you. Even after all of this, you still cannot see a light. Can you?"

Black lines grew over Baderon's forehead. What kind of nonsense was he hearing? Surely they didn't think this would work?

"I-I... sob"

It did. Well the pirate was an idiot. Baderon turned his head to the Yellow Jacket standing by. His eyes were red around the edges. Baderon closed his eyes to calm his breath. He wanted to throw something.

"You don't have to cry. You don't have to be sad. Though you've used much time already, there is yet more time for you to redeem yourself. To find a purpose. Those above you don't have an answer. They tell you to shove off. To leave it be. But you're smarter than they are aren't you? More in tune with this star. With your instincts. You know there to be an underlying truth that "they" won't reveal. That is no mistake my friend. There is something more and something that you can do about it as well."

Crack - Snap - Creak

The splintered bones and snapped ligament were mending silently without the pirate even realizing it. It didn't sound painless, but it looked to be so. 

"H-How?! Me life's 'een 'ore swarth' 'en smoove!"

The accent was too heavy. Baderon couldn't understand what he was saying at all.

"It's simple. Follow our teachings. Even when you have been broken and brought low-"

Broken by the very man now yapping at him.

"You can still rise once more. That is Yda's miracle. Tis the blessing she gives us all. Second chances. Within her embrace, we are granted strength and glory everlasting. It is with her blessing and fortunes, we gain purpose and belief. She walks with us. Amongst us. Within us. She has set us free! Now rise! Once more! Repent and swear off your old ways! Remove your shackles! Be reborn in Yda's LIGHT!"

The man with the feathers for hair pulled the pirate up to his feet. He stood tall, amazed at the lack of pain. He moved his arm gingerly and found it to be functional. He was healed. The tavern oo'ed and aaa'd, as if they forgot how these thugs had eyed them for a fight not too long ago.

Baderon had no clue who this Yda was. But apparently he was the only one who gave a damn.

"I-I REPENT! I SWEAR OFF ME' PAST! TIS A NEW LEAF I TURN!"

"INTO YDA'S LIGHT! THE MOTHER SHALL SET YOU FREE!!!"

"""INTO YDA'S LIGHT!!!!! THE MOTHER SHALL SET US FREE!!!!!!!!"""

The tavern keep put his head into his hands. He could hear the Yellow Jacket, a supposed paragon of the law, clapping and sniffing happily with the crowd.

---

Thancred passed the days leisurely. Little Winter would pop out to train his Cure with "rituals" then come back in, to note his findings in a journal. Every other day, the young man would return to Gridania to spend time with his women and come back to train more.

Thancred had no clue who these women were, but he had a suspicion that Minfilia was one of them. After all, she followed the young man into the forest and didn't return. Thancred was happy for her. Tragic stories like that didn't always end well.

The girl had been staring at Little Winter with hearts in her eyes since they were both kids. It made sense for her to lock him down as such. She couldn't have picked a better or more dedicated man.

But to think that Little Winter ended up with another? Who could she be? Whoever she was, she must've been extraordinary. Little Winter wasn't a fan of sleeping around with just anyone who fancied him. He was quite picky. Picker than Thancred at any rate. 

---

"Why not?"

"Well... She has no curves right?"

"??? What are you saying? She obviously does."

"Hrm."

"Little Winter-"

"I just think that she looks a bit childish. That's all."

"What?! Twelve be good! She's a grown woman!"

"I'm aware Thancred. But I truly don't see the appeal there. No breasts, no hips, no ass, lips as thin as paper-!"

"So you like fat wo-"

"There's a line! Of course there is! And it's obvious! But when they are this small or too muscular, I can't be attracted to them at all. I like my women soft, plush, curvy-"

"Fat."

"Not fat! It's not the same!"

"You like fat women."

"Would you call Blue fat?"

"Of course not-"

"Then you get what I'm saying!"

"But that's apples and lemons." 

"Apples and oranges."

"You get my meaning. Blue isn't fat, but she would obviously crush a man with those hips."

Grin

"..."

"I'm glad we've reached the pinnacle of our academic discussion. If she's flat, take her back! And you are a coward!"

"Me?! She's famous throughout all of Ul'dah!"

"I know!"

"Famed for her beauty!"

"I know!"

"She's the topic of conversation at every bar and shop!"

"I said I know, dammit!"

"And you said NO?!"

"SHE'S PRETTY! OK? BUT THAT'S ALL!"

"Twelve above..."

"However, her friend who's hips are wider than her shoulders? Hehehe."

"You've gone mad. Such a strange body. Such an inelegant form-"

"She looks more elegant than the woman who looks like a tall child."

"YOU-"

---

Little Winter would say with a straight face. Thancred didn't get it. Perhaps he never would. The bard chose not to think on it any longer, else he'd get a headache. 

It was no matter. 

Meanwhile, the bard had fallen into his familiar backstreets to dig around for information about the state of his home city. During days, a proper scoundrel with beautiful women at his hip. At night, the communal drinker who could loosen the tongue of even the hardest of criminals.

Some information was useful for the Circle. Most wasn't. The most prevalent story being a surprise church that accepted all down and outs. Outcasts, figureheads, pirates, privateers, criminals, guards, fraudsters, investigators, abusers, victims, none of it mattered. They were all allowed to be saved. The cult was organized on ideological means. The Suns of Yda.

With just a couple of hammers, some white and gold robes, two books that Little Winter wrote in a night, and soothsaying, something fierce had been born in Limsa Lominsa. No, perchance in all of Eorzea.

Thancred had a feeling that this surprise cult was more than just an excuse for Little Winter to train his bizarre healing powers on. The young man hunted pirates in particular. He was careful not to break any laws. He taught them how to proselytize. Simple words and phrases that could easily sway the heart and render the mind into feeling complete and filled with belonging

His little brother was too frightening! Who goes about doing things like this?!

Today or tomorrow, Master Louisoix and the majority of the Circle were set to meet up on the Lower Docks. Supposedly, Little Winter had much to tell Louisoix about. Thancred could scarce believe that his brother's magicks got even more bizarre. He explained how he was using Aether that wasn't Aether. Spells that weren't spells. 

It wasn't until Thancred wore his Aetherometer that he could finally see what Little Winter was talking about. He then completely disregarded it and refused to think on it more. Let Master stress over it. Thancred had learned to let go. It was important when dealing with his little brother to let everything wave over one's heart like water.

Perhaps Master would collapse into a pile upon glancing at Little Winter for a couple of seconds. Thancred would enjoy seeing that.

close

"Thanny Cranny~"

"Don't call me that."

He had returned, jovial as ever. Thancred stayed unmoved with his hands behind his head laying on the common area's couch. It was slightly uncomfortable, but Thancred relished in the struggle between him and the slightly hard cushions. It deserved a ballad.

"How did it go?"

"Hm, not very enlightening I suppose. The guild master was absent so there wasn't much they could tell me."

Little Winter was referring to a "guild" on the Lower Docks. Their guild master was notorious for being absent and leaving his members to their own devices. Thancred doubted that such a master would have insights that were more valuable than E-Sumi-Yan or Master Louisoix anyways. Assuming it actually was a guild and not just a criminal den.

No harm, no foul, as Little Winter would say.

"I did get this though."

Little Winter showed off a book.

"A spell book?"

"Something like that. Supposedly within this book, is the secret to summon creatures of Nym. I don't have much use for such a thing, but I thought it could be interesting to study."

Thancred knew the tale well. A city in the 5th Era inflicted with a curse that would warp their skin, make their fingers rot off, distort their bodies and infect those who came near. The city was flooded to contain the curse and word on it had been scarce since that era. 

"What kind of creatures?"

Little Winter calmly sat down nearby and flicked through the pages. It was at times like these that Thancred thought that Little Winter used to be a scholar of some kind. But having grown up in Sharlayan himself, he had never seen a boy like this walking around and beating people with hammers. His fingers traversed the pages in such a familiar manner, whoever Little Winter used to be, they had to be involved with the ink in some way.

"Quite a few. Fairies, Carbuncles, Egi, even a few kinds of Aetheric Weapons."

Strange things that Thancred had little experience with. Fairies that one could summon? The only Fae creatures he knew of were far from the lands of Eorzea. The rest were completely foreign to him however. Perhaps there was some book that he was forced to cram into his head for his Archon exams? ...He felt that if he kept asking, something strange would happen. His Winter Instincts tingled. So he concluded with a simple-

"I see."

buzzzz

Thancred felt his linkpearl hum to life all of the sudden.