Traveler

Azlyn heard the knock on her door as she groggily pulled herself from the bed. She could see from the window that it was just before sunrise, with the sun slowly rising up the horizon to the east. The soft glow of the red and yellow bounced off the sea into the sky above. The knocking continued. 

“Comin’” She murmured, shuffling her way over to the door to poke her head out. “Yes?” 

She could sleepily see Baderon standing with his hands on his hips, and another fellow standing behind him. The young Hyur man had bright pink hair that was uniquely styled with edges and sharp angles. His right cheek had a tattoo that spanned up his face, and his outfit was dazzling to look at. The bright vivid colors of pinks, purples, and dark tones combined with the layers and intriguing style. Azlyn had to rub her eyes as she looked at both of them with widened eyes. 

“Oh Baderon—you were right, she does need a miracle. Say no more.” The stylist barged forward, rolling his large luggage into her room with Baderon following. Azlyn waited until both of them were in the room before she closed the door. She turned, only to see the Hyur stylist leaning down to examine her. He already had a measuring tape in his hand. “She’s smaller than my clientele—oh! Such luxurious tendrils of hair!” He stopped measuring her arms and started to play with her messy hair. 

“A bit dry—a moisturizer would help lighten it.” 

Azlyn felt her arm being lifted up again as the man started to measure. She looked to Baderon who sat at the nearby table in her room. He had a smirk watching them. “Baderon—um who is this?” 

The proprietor chuckled. The Hyur stylist however answered instead. “My name is Jandelaine, my dear. I’ve been asked to help you for this afternoon. And as you must know, I am Limsa Lominsa’s Aesthetician and Fashion Connoisseur.” 

Azlyn felt her jaw slightly drop. 

“I believe I have just a dress for you, my little amethyst flower. Baderon, my luggage.”  

The Proprietor stretched up from his seat, and started to roll his neck. “I ain’t yer service attendant.” He then smiled to the young girl. “Well, I see yer in good ‘ands. ‘E’ll take good care of ye. Check in with me when yer done dressin’ up, eh?” 

Jandelaine walked over to his luggage, opening it up to reveal quite the set up. When his luggage opened up, it turned into a small styling desk. There were several dresses and miscellaneous jewels, makeup accessories, and trinkets for hair all within this suitcase. “I’d imagine with all the money he’s paid for this, he’d want to help in the process.”

Azlyn wondered. “How much?” 

He smiled to her. “My price is 2,000 Gil—always has been, always will be. The standard price for beauty.”

She choked on the air she hitched. She barely scratched five thousand Gil from just the other day. 

“Now, let’s get you set up for your hairdo for this afternoon. We have only a couple hours to get you presentable.” He forced her to sit in a chair while he started to perform quite and extensive makeover. By the time she was done with her hair and make up—she felt like her head was spinning. “Perfect! Now to show off these beautiful scales of yours, oh and a beautiful pair of dangling earrings for your ears.” He started plucking out several sets of jewels for her to try on, while she was still stuck on the girl in the reflection. 

It oddly reminded her of Kida when she helped her with the dance back in Sharlaya. She remembered how auspicious it was, and how the night had ended with eating brownies in her room with G’raha. 

Her reflection sitting in front of her had a soft glow on her cheeks, a shade of deep purple on the inner eye by the bridge of her nose. Her lips were painted with a deep purple lipstick. Her scales were scrubbed clean, something she hadn’t been able to do since she started her journey into Eorzea all those years ago. Her hair, having been up in a hasty ponytail laid in wavy curls, with strands over her shoulder. The rest left behind her to trail the back. He had snipped her dead ends, and livened her undertones with a simple sprucing. 

Jandelaine then laid a dress in her lap. “Put this on my dear, and we’ll get you your shoes after.” 

Azlyn lifted the dress up to inspect it. It was a red simple off the shoulder dress, where the dress was longer in the back than it was in the front. It cinched at the waist, giving the wearer an hour glass shape. 

She went to change behind the screen as Jandelaine was cleaning up his supplies by the mirror. 

Stepping out, she subconsciously looked down. “Is this alright?” 

He looked back to her with a smile. “Yes—it shall do quite nicely. Here are some dress shoes to go with your outfit.” A pair of red heels was handed to her, it had several straps that wrapped around her ankles to secure the shoe to her foot. Once they were buckled in, she had to do several turns and walk several straight lines before Jandelaine gave her his approval. 

“You’re perfect. Now remember, if you ever need a stylist—Jandelaine is your man.” He handed over a card, and a token. “Next time you call, you get a freebie from me when you use this coin. Best of luck my dear.” He winked, whisking himself out of her room as quickly as he had barged in. 

She grabbed her satchel from the ground, before staring at herself in the mirror. Jandelaine had cleaned the tiara she wore with her adventuring gear, and styled it into her hair at the top. She wondered if this would be over the top for a state banquet. 

Sighing, she accepted it for what it was, and decided to run down to check in with Baderon. He was cleaning several glasses with a handkerchief as she plopped her bag down on the counter. 

“By the Navigator.” He said with a bit of surprise. 

Azlyn produced a bag of gold, the amount equal to what he paid. “Jandelaine told me you paid for this—but it’s—“ 

Baderon pushed her money back to her with a big smile. “Nah—got me and the rest of the guild’s ye helped with out in Limsa our monies worth by yer dazzlin’ standin’. Yer gettin’ quite the looks from the regulars.” He chuckled as she pocketed the money. 

She pulled up a bar stool to sit with him. As if by routine, he took her satchel, axe, and excess stuff to place them underneath the counter for safekeeping. “I still have an hour or so before I have to head over—but do you have any last minute advice?” 

Baderon pondered. “Hrm—just be yerself. Ye’ll be fine. Just enjoy the free grub, and smile. Admiral’s pretty good about these types o’ things.”

She nodded, cracking her knuckles. 

“And don’t take yer axe in with ye.” He gestured to the axe underneath his bar by the bag. “Or your rustic bag fer that matter. I’ll keep ‘em safe ‘ere.” 

Baderon hummed a shanty as he still cleaned. She leaned on the counter, her hand under chin as she watched him. Azlyn sighed. “It’s strange how I just arrived not more than a month or so ago, and things just sort of steamrolled into this.”

“Yer right—never thought a green ‘venture’ like ye’d make quite the splash as ye’ve done.” He smirked. “I feel like a proud father—watchin’ ‘is first born get all grown up an’ ready fer the real world.” 

She chuckled. “You know I’m twenty four right?” 

He chewed on a piece of jerky. He didn’t offer her any because she was going to need her appetite for later. “What? Nah—ye look like yer barely seventeen.” 

She smiled. “Thank you—“

Baderon leaned on the counter. “Well if I ever did ‘ave a kid—it’d have a foul mouth like me.”  He mused to himself. “Ye barely utter a bad word with yer prim a proper language.” 

Azlyn blinked rapidly, she didn’t really use curse words as commonly as most Lominsan’s did, but when she did—it would be a day to remember. She smiled. “Maybe one day.” 

He shook his head. “Well it’s almost time fer ye to go see the Admiral—just remember be yerself.” He tapped her forehead with a finger. “Eat yer fill and don’t overthink.”

The Au Ra nodded, pulling herself up from her barstool. Baderon called out to her. “Take the Crow’s Lift down, and head to the other elevator. The guard should be expecting you.” 

Her trip to the elevator was a short one, and she traveled down to the Bulwark Hall and crossed the room around the large mast to see a Roegabyn guard at the elevator. He was scanning guests using the elevator. Azlyn arrived in front of him, as he looked straight at her. “Lookin’ fer an ‘venture’ with pretty shoes.” 

Azlyn presented her shoes, wondering if she would have gotten in if she just worn the heels. Nodding at the shoes, the guard opened the elevator for her to ride up. 

 The bridge that held the event had a large table filled with foods of all kinds. Azlyn was shown off the elevator by the storm sergeant, and she found a majority of the guests eyes on her. Slowly, she walked into the space and the people started to whisper amongst themselves. She could hear the whispers, some ranging from: “That’s her.” Or “She’s the Bloody Princess of the Sea.”, and even “She’s dressed very well.” 

She found Commodore Reyner off by the far side, talking with a similarly familiar Miqo’te with markings on her neck. She was dressed in a formal dress, white in color that went down to her knees. She had a nice pair of heels that complimented her attire. 

Azlyn found herself beelining straight to them. 

“Good Afternoon.” Azlyn announced herself, as she looked to both. Commodore smiled at her attire, and Y’shtola looked her from head to toe. 

“Good Afternoon, you look lovely.” Y’shtola replied, a warm smile. She then reached over to the left over tray with several flutes of drinks. Passing one to her, the Miqo’te looked to Commodore Reyner. “As you were discussing, the Sahagins have indeed gone back to their lands beyond the South Tidegate, however—“

Azlyn listened to them discuss the beast tribes of Limsa Lominsa. She could see that Y’shtola was specific with ideas on how to negotiate and handle delicate matters regarding the Sahagin’s claims and the Kobold’s sudden acts of aggression. 

“Azlyn, what are your thoughts on the Sahagin’s and Kobold’s positions in Limsa Lominsa?” Commodore Reyner turned the question to her, and she lifted her eyes up from the flute she was nursing. That seemed like a tough question. She wasn’t one to deeply involve herself in politics—she’d left that up to G’raha and Krile. She just liked to read about the events.

“I’ve only been here a short while—my opinions probably won’t be as good as—“

Commodore Reyner shook his head. “An outsider’s perspective is much needed a perspective as one who has lived here their entire lives. You can speak your mind—you have earned that respect.” 

Y’shtola looked ready to intervene to help, but kept quiet until she deemed it absolutely necessary. 

Azlyn bit her lip nervously. “Well, from what I can see they’re just trying to survive.” 

Y’shtola jumped in. “Exactly, an act of self preservation. Just as I’ve been stating beforehand.” 

Commodore Reyner nodded, “I understand, however we can’t continue to keep losing grounds and men to these tribes. We are also trying to survive. Is it not our right as free people of Limsa Lominsa to also be given liberties of life?” 

Azlyn crossed her arms, in thought. She was still holding her flute with ease. 

“No one said anything about protecting the values of the people in Limsa Lominsa—but there should be a definitive line between defensive procedures and aggressively acting out against the beast tribes.” Y’shtola added with a bit of flare. 

The Au Ra could tell that this was hot topic for Y’shtola and the people in this City State. 

The clicking of a pair of boots stopped their conversation from continuing as the Admiral walked up to their group. She smiled at each of them, before turning to the entire bridge with her observant expression. 

“Brothers and Sisters of the sea.” She gestured for them to take their places at the table. Everyone started to sit, Y’shtola pulled Azlyn over to sit with her by the front end of the table with the Admiral and Commodore. “Thank you—please enjoy this feast set before us.” 

The hall started their afternoon feast, talking amicably between one another. Azlyn and Y’shtola were able to sneak in a quick conversation. 

“I’m glad you’ve got a bit of color back in your cheeks—you were pale yesterday.” The Miqo’te drank some of her tea in her cup. She turned to her. “Your aetherial energy is a bit jumbled now, perhaps you still have a headache?” 

Azlyn nodded. “Yeah, the headache hasn’t stopped.” 

The Sharlayan scholar sighed. “I never knew someone foolhardy enough to pull magicks out from their own aetherial energy. If you were anyone else, you’d be bedridden for a week.” 

The Au Ra paused mid bite at the statement. “I won’t do that again.” She resumed eating after thinking hard about it. It was true she was a bit reckless. 

After the main course had been finished, the Admiral stood up from her seat with her glass held up in the air. She gestured it to Azlyn sitting to her right side. “Join me now in honoring this young woman for her services to our great services.”

Everyone lifted their glass to her, which Azlyn gave a brief nod and acknowledgment with her eyes. 

The Admiral placed her cup down on the table, and raised a clenched fist in the air. She was exuberant in her speech, “May the Navigator guide and protect her on her journey till sea swallows all!”

All of the guests repeated after her, which surprised her quite a bit. She wasn’t anticipating such a strong response. 

The banquet continued on for another hour, where several guests talked happily with her about her journey so far. Azlyn had been careful to discuss things about her past, and also avoided to talk about Carteneau. 

By the time she finished her tale, most of them were pleased by her experiences so far. How she attended to the outskirts and helped all the small communities immediately following the Calamity. Y’shtola was surprised by how long she had been away from Sharlayan, but didn’t specifically mention it aloud. 

Azlyn could just tell from the expression on her face. 

At the tale end of the banquet, all of the guests were appeased, wishing her a safe journey and left her in the hands of the Admiral and Y’shtola. 

The Admiral waited for the last of the guests to leave. “I hate to discuss business right after a pleasurable conversation, but I know you would want to know the outcome. As you are aware, the pirates you encountered with the tattooed faces were known as the Serpent Reavers. Their ranks are formed of cutthroats and madman who have pledged themselves body and soul to the primal Leviathan. From what we have gathered, they sought to swell their numbers by spiriting away any soul unfortunate enough to cross their path.” She crossed her arms, giving them the full report. “I need not tell you the depth of the animosity between us and the Sahagin. How any seaman worth his salt could devote himself to the fishbacks’ god is a question for a more temperate mind than mine.” 

Azlyn frowned, wondering just how devious a primal was. She’d read about them in her books, but she never actually saw one actually complete a summoning process. Well—save for Dalamud’s fall. The aftermath was devastating from just seeing it on the Isle. The pulse of energy was enough to send her off her feet back at home. 

“But thanks to you, our citizens may once more go about their daily lives, safe in the knowledge that they will not be dragged into the darkness by those execrable curs.”

Y’shtola nodded to her, also expressing her thanks. “Yes, your deeds have done a service for all those involved. Thank you.” 

The Au Ra nodded, and felt a warm glow from her chest. A soft glow, bright in color enveloped the center of her chest. It was bright enough to gather the attention of both Y’shtola and the Admiral. 

“Such an extraordinary glow.” 

Surprised, Azlyn reached up to her chest, and the crystal she found in the Seasong Grotto emerged back into it’s physical form. She held out the glowing blue crystal to them feeling like Hydaelyn was purposefully pushing her to accept the reality that she was possessed by the Echo. 

Y’shtola had her eyes wide, even though she had a working knowledge of her power, this would just confirm it. “This—is one of the Crystals of Light.” 

“By the Navigator.” Admiral Merlwyb spoke, her voice soft in shock. 

Y’shtola crossed her arms, as she started piecing everything together from when they first met. “After our encounter with the goobbue, you had a vision did you not? Of a towering crystal?”

Azlyn sighed, nodding. “Yes. It’s not the first time either.” 

The Miqo’te smiled. “You’ve been bathed in Her light. I only had suppositions to work on, but this all but confirms it.” 

The Admiral nodded at last, looking down to her with a warm gaze. “Y’shtola’s conclusion is clear. I see no reason to doubt it—You are the vessel of a higher power. That being said, your vision has been one with the Mothercrystal. Your description matches what little we know of Her.” She smiled. “And if She has chosen you, then your deeds may yet shape the fate of nations. As once did the deeds of the Warriors of Light.” 

It was at this moment Azlyn snapped her attention up to the Admiral. “Warrior—of light? But they—they all died in the battle of Carteneau. How can I be—“

The Admiral was surprised by her depth of knowledge on the matter. “Know you the tale? They were not of these lands, yet they fought to protect us all ‘gains the corruption of the primals. When the Garlean Empire began its conquest of the realm, these heroes joined the Grand Companies.” 

“Forging the Eorzea Alliance.” Azlyn finished, sadly looking away. She grasped her arm as if the memory stung her. 

Y’shtola walked over to Azlyn, grasping her hand in her own. “Admiral, she’s not unaware of the tale.”

Azlyn bit her lip. She looked from Y’shtola to the Admiral once more. “It’s alright—really. Please tell me more of what happened that day. What happened?” 

Admiral Merlwyb looked away. The memory must have been strong for her too. “At the Battle of Carteneau. They took the field beneath our banners to fight for everything we hold dear. It was on that day, in the midst of that hell that we—lost them. Every soul who survived that battle will never forget how it was to fight beside them. We are proud to call them our comrades. Alongside all of those who were lost that day.” 

Y’shtola frowned, gripping tightly onto her hands to support her. “Yet we have trouble remembering them.” 

The Admiral nodded. “Yes, whenever we try to shout their names, the sound dies in our throats. And whenever we strain to see their faces with our mind’s eye, naught but their shadows appear to us, set against a blinding light. Ask any true Eorzea who knew them, and the story will be the same. It is for this reason that we call them ‘the Warriors of Light’.” She paused in her explanation, as she stared down at the Au Ra standing close to Y’shtola. “When I look upon you, I cannot help but be reminded of them. You must be one of the few remaining in this realm—our last hope so to speak.”

Azlyn thought back to the letter she received from her parents after she learned of their deaths. She thought back to the book her parents left for her, and what jump started her whole journey after she left the Isle of Val. 

“Keep that crystal safe. In time, I believe the Mothercrystal will make clear Her reasons for bestowing it upon you. Heed well Her words, Azlyn. For it is Hydaelyn Herself who speaks.” 

Azlyn tried to nod but she was overcome by a wave of nausea. Azlyn felt her headache grow exponentially. It was the strangest feeling, as if she could feel a break in herself as she lurched forward. Y’shtola who was standing by her side gave her a worried look, calling out her name. The young girl began hacking, a bit of blood spilled from her lips as the world surrounded itself in darkness all around her. The prickling pain increased until she could feel nothing anymore.

The scene shifted into darkened clouds circling above, thunder dangerously cracking and the aetheric energy felt like static in the air. Azlyn felt herself floating from above watching as dark smoky trails of the battle commenced. She could hear the roar of men and women’s voices, the clashing of metal upon metal—and the screams.

Not encouraged by the scenes unfolding before her, she found herself looking up into the sky itself, and seeing the lesser moon, Dalamud making its descent. The scene shifted, as Azlyn found herself looking upon a cliffside where she recognized the Admiral standing next to several other figures. A woman with blonde hair was dressed in all white robes holding a tall white scepter. A taller man, dark tanned skin with armor covering his body, the only detail she could pull from him was the prominent scar upon his grizzled face. The banners of what she believed to be each of the City States blew behind them as they began shouting their orders for battle.

She could only watch in horrid fascination, wondering why she was to watch this scene despite already knowing its’ ending. She could see the desperation in each of their faces and orders. She felt chills—only to turn her attention to the mountain.

An Ascian was there, which Azlyn noticed the white robed general also noting his presence. She looked to him, and decided to ignore his presence. Azlyn would have continued her watch upon him, but a large fireball came crashing into the camp. A mighty shield went up, the splinters in the magic casted from the shield looked like it might break any moment.

The robust male general turned to his men, yelling to them to keep their eyes forward. Azlyn noticed the scene shifting onto the battlefield itself, where banners were burning, and men slain. She had to assume it must have been a communications group as she could hear the general shouting out from the device nearby. Almost feeling like a rubberband, she felt herself pulled back to where the generals stood on the cliff—seeing the frustration in each of their faces.

This was probably the turning point.

A transmission came through, from Mad Snake to Raging Bull. They were yelling about blazes and they weren’t going to make it—and then radio static. Azlyn could feel the goosebumps roll over her. What happened on this day—she dared not think of what might have happened to her parents.

No one from the Limsa Lominsan side could be reached either, and the woman in white’s officer was unable to get ahold of anyone on their end.

She watched as the woman turned to Admiral Merlwyb and the General with the tattoo on his right arm to advise a retreat. Azlyn bit her lip hard—there were still people out there—and they wanted to retreat. Her parents were down there. She watched as the General shot down the idea, bringing up Louisoix. The woman in white did not back down, bringing up several points that victory would not belong to anyone that day. The adventurers down there that were fighting in vain—and she even recommended them to help aid those in the retreat. She recommended that they go fight by Louisoix’s side. Azlyn clenched her fists, noticing the lesser moon still descending upon them.

The Maelstrom were the first to order the retreat, following the Flames and then the Serpents. The skies erupted in streams of lights that crashed down into the earth below. Azlyn could only watch helplessly as the woman in white bowed her head down—she could feel the dark presence that she mentioned about and brought her attention back to the mountain where the Ascian stood.

Sensing the scene shift, Azlyn felt pulled once again. Standing on a mountain far from the battle, she could hear the otherworldly tongue of the Ascian. He spoke in strange consonants and vowels—which should have been unfamiliar to her—but for some reason she felt like she could understand it. She watched. Another Ascian approached the one speaking, but he was not fazed by his presence.

As meteors started to crash down from Dalamud, the Ascian started to cackle—which turned into maniacal laughter shortly thereafter. Azlyn bit her lip once more. The one thing she noticed that was different about this masked man, was the fact he wore a red mask—and not a black one. She wondered if having a different colored mask set a hierarchy.

The scene was enveloped in light, as she was pulled away from the scene, she looked down to the fight below—and closed her eyes to the sight. It was much too hard to look at—and the thought of processing it all afterward made her sick to her stomach.