A young Miqo'te girl fell back onto the ground, landing hard enough to knock some of her breath out. She shakily pulled herself up, her eyes filled with fear and sadness as she looked upon a grinning elezen boy. "Why did you do that?" she desperately asked.
The blonde haired elezen grinned spitefully at the miqo'te, showing his teeth. He seemed to tower over her as she was blanketed by his shadow. "Because you're a freak! This is what you get!" The girl turned to walk away, but the boy grabbed her shoulder length red hair and pulled hard enough to make her scream. He turned her around quickly and shoved her back, following with a quick jab at her nose.
The blonde haired elezen grinned spitefully at the miqo'te, showing his teeth. He seemed to tower over her as she was blanketed by his shadow. "Because you're a freak! This is what you get!" The girl turned to walk away, but the boy grabbed her shoulder length red hair and pulled hard enough to make her scream. He turned her around quickly and shoved her back, following with a quick jab at her nose.
The miqo'te hit the ground again, her eyes wide as her trembling hand touched the blood from her nose. "I didn't do anything!" she cried in a broken voice, "It's not my fault. Leave me alone!" She struggled to her feet, her eyes so full of tears that she could barely see, and hurried away as quickly as she was able.
"Yeah, you'd better get out of here!" the boy called after her. "We don't want freaks like you around!"
"Yeah, you'd better get out of here!" the boy called after her. "We don't want freaks like you around!"
A cloudy mid morning in Gridania, and Ginal sat at a table in the Carline Canopy, aimlessly stirring the milk in her coffee as she's lost in thought. The hot cereal she had ordered had long since gone cold, and she was completely unconcerned with the male regulars she had always posed for and flirted with.
"You've been like this for the last three days," Mother Miounne stated as she took a seat at the table.
The miqo'te blinked as she looked up at the tall elezen woman, her mind slowly drifting back to where she sat. "Oh, Mother...Yes...I've been preoccupied." Ginal's words came with none of her normal enthusiasm, the exhaustion in her eyes plain to see.
Miounne nodded as her eyes searched the younger woman, "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what's so heavy on your mind, are you?"
"You've been like this for the last three days," Mother Miounne stated as she took a seat at the table.
The miqo'te blinked as she looked up at the tall elezen woman, her mind slowly drifting back to where she sat. "Oh, Mother...Yes...I've been preoccupied." Ginal's words came with none of her normal enthusiasm, the exhaustion in her eyes plain to see.
Miounne nodded as her eyes searched the younger woman, "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what's so heavy on your mind, are you?"
The miqo'te opened her mouth to speak, but stopped to reconsider her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Mother...I just don't think you'd understand."
The elezen woman considered this for a moment and finally nodded, "If you say so." As Miounne stood to return to work, she turned back to the young woman. "It isn't your flirty and playful manner that we love so much, those are just humorous bonuses. It's the way your very presence brightens the place. I hope we can get that back soon, because all the sconces in the world won't replace that grin of yours." The older woman made her way back to the bar, and began chatting up some other adventurers Ginal had seen around.
The elezen woman considered this for a moment and finally nodded, "If you say so." As Miounne stood to return to work, she turned back to the young woman. "It isn't your flirty and playful manner that we love so much, those are just humorous bonuses. It's the way your very presence brightens the place. I hope we can get that back soon, because all the sconces in the world won't replace that grin of yours." The older woman made her way back to the bar, and began chatting up some other adventurers Ginal had seen around.
I feel so alone. What am I supposed to do?
Ginal sat and slowly ate at her cereal as her thoughts drifted away again, to the man she wished she wanted, the woman she wished she didn't, and the memories of judgments made of a young girl.
I'm not a freak...am I?
On any other day, the studded leather gauntlets, boots and armor, and the simple-but-cute short skirt that made up Ginal's adventuring outfit made her feel both protected and attractive. Today however, as she plodded along the path to the Westshore Pier, it all felt cumbersome. Heavy. Bothersome in a way she couldn't describe. The dark clouds that were forming overhead, and the humidity of pending rain only served to further her dark and distracted mood.
Even the Twelveswood is gloomy today...
"So tell me," Ywain began, his pace matching hers, "how was it to face your first Ixal at that guard tower?"
Ginal looked to the Guildmaster with a look of confusion, "How did you know?"
The older man smiled knowingly, "I have many contacts, and they help me watch my students who need it most. Even when I'm away, I'm never out of touch."
The miqo'te woman nodded as she considered his question, the two stopping beside the pier at the edge of the waters. "It was...terrifying." She recalled the dim light of dusk, the harsh cawing and squawking, the sheer size and strength of the beast. And the awful, heavy stink of it's breath. She winced as she reached for her shoulder, that ache momentarily creeping back into her mind. "I've never been so frightened in my life. I was fortunate enough to have never seen an Ixal before that night."
Ywain nodded, "And your aggression? Your anger? Did it overcome you?" Her eyes unfocused as her mind receded deeper into the memory. "Yes...I was so...enraged." She balled her fists tightly as she recalled it all, "I was seeing red. All I could hear was the thunder of my heart."
The Guildmaster looked to his student, "What happened?" Her mouth hung open for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. "Your words...and the words of a friend...pulled me back."
The older hyur nodded in consideration, "And the defense of Bentbranch? What was that like?"
The miqo'te furrowed her brow at the recent memory, "Absolutely overwhelming..." her voice drifted off. "The Ixali were so much greater in number, and their smell was everywhere. The cawing. The squawking. The clash and bang of weapons..." That distant look crept back into her eyes as she grit her teeth.
Ywain sat his hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. "And what happened?" The spiky haired redhead continued to look distantly out over the water, her voice trailing, "I had a friend there...she shook me from my stupor. Helped me focus on the fight."
"The same friend?" the guildmaster asked. Ginal nodded absently. "She sounds like a good friend to have," Ywain replied as he folded his arms.
On any other day, the studded leather gauntlets, boots and armor, and the simple-but-cute short skirt that made up Ginal's adventuring outfit made her feel both protected and attractive. Today however, as she plodded along the path to the Westshore Pier, it all felt cumbersome. Heavy. Bothersome in a way she couldn't describe. The dark clouds that were forming overhead, and the humidity of pending rain only served to further her dark and distracted mood.
Even the Twelveswood is gloomy today...
"So tell me," Ywain began, his pace matching hers, "how was it to face your first Ixal at that guard tower?"
Ginal looked to the Guildmaster with a look of confusion, "How did you know?"
The older man smiled knowingly, "I have many contacts, and they help me watch my students who need it most. Even when I'm away, I'm never out of touch."
The miqo'te woman nodded as she considered his question, the two stopping beside the pier at the edge of the waters. "It was...terrifying." She recalled the dim light of dusk, the harsh cawing and squawking, the sheer size and strength of the beast. And the awful, heavy stink of it's breath. She winced as she reached for her shoulder, that ache momentarily creeping back into her mind. "I've never been so frightened in my life. I was fortunate enough to have never seen an Ixal before that night."
Ywain nodded, "And your aggression? Your anger? Did it overcome you?" Her eyes unfocused as her mind receded deeper into the memory. "Yes...I was so...enraged." She balled her fists tightly as she recalled it all, "I was seeing red. All I could hear was the thunder of my heart."
The Guildmaster looked to his student, "What happened?" Her mouth hung open for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. "Your words...and the words of a friend...pulled me back."
The older hyur nodded in consideration, "And the defense of Bentbranch? What was that like?"
The miqo'te furrowed her brow at the recent memory, "Absolutely overwhelming..." her voice drifted off. "The Ixali were so much greater in number, and their smell was everywhere. The cawing. The squawking. The clash and bang of weapons..." That distant look crept back into her eyes as she grit her teeth.
Ywain sat his hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. "And what happened?" The spiky haired redhead continued to look distantly out over the water, her voice trailing, "I had a friend there...she shook me from my stupor. Helped me focus on the fight."
"The same friend?" the guildmaster asked. Ginal nodded absently. "She sounds like a good friend to have," Ywain replied as he folded his arms.
She truly is.
Ginal's eyes refocused as she came back to the world around her, and she softly smiled. "Yes. She may be one of the best friends I've ever known. Strange, considering we've barely known each other for long."
The master lancer stood for a moment in silent consideration. He finally turned to his student with a slight frown. "Ginal, you are one of the best students I've seen in the Wailing Barracks. You fight hard. Your ability to learn and master technique and form are almost unmatched, and you've done well at being mindful of your temper. You have learned well the two halves of courage, and the challenges you've faced recently have exceeded the trials I would have normally put you through. By rights, you have earned yourself the title of Lancer."
The master lancer stood for a moment in silent consideration. He finally turned to his student with a slight frown. "Ginal, you are one of the best students I've seen in the Wailing Barracks. You fight hard. Your ability to learn and master technique and form are almost unmatched, and you've done well at being mindful of your temper. You have learned well the two halves of courage, and the challenges you've faced recently have exceeded the trials I would have normally put you through. By rights, you have earned yourself the title of Lancer."
Ginal's heart swelled with pride as she listened to the praise.
Have I already come this far?
"Alas, I cannot graduate you from my guild." His eyes seemed sad, or perhaps frustrated as he met the miqo'te's gaze.
Her heart sank as her ears folded back. She felt like crying.
"Long have I seen within you the signs of someone concealing an inner conflict, and I have seen things like this spill over into the battlefield." Ywain shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Until you have found the courage to face this demon within, Ginal, I cannot release you from my responsibility. This will be your final trial." The Guildmaster set his hand upon her shoulder again, and without another word set off up the path toward the barracks.
Is the problem truly...within myself?
The troubled miqo'te sat at the water's edge, and stared out in thought as she fought back the tears of shame.
Once again, the open hall of the Carline Canopy called, this time for a meeting of the mercenary free company she had signed on with. The company commander, that soft voiced elezen named Timothy, had sent a moogle messenger to retrieve her. She was greeted at the entry by Grezel, who nodded to her and gestured to one side of the pub hall where a host of people had gathered.
Some of them she immediately recognized: There was that light skinned hyur archer woman, with the pretty long black hair and purple leather hunting armor. Ginal recalled her name as Ozalie.
Across the table from her was Timothy, who sat with this almost smug grin as rested his chin on his fist. His shining silver eyes peered at the archer woman, and Ginal's ears twitched as she caught an interesting exchange among the chorus of chatter. "Ozalie, my dear, how much longer are you going to make me wait before you marry me?"
The woman simply laughed and returned the grin, "I'm still thinking about it."
At the table nearest, she saw that lalafell man, Lupe, she believed, still clad in his elegant looking white mage robe. The small man's silver earrings bounced with the bobbing of his head as he conversed with another hyur man clad in the dragoon's armor. This man, though, was shorter and smaller of build than Grezel, and unfortunately the armor he wore hid any other distinguishing features.
The two were joined by the black mage she remembered as Aerick, who's wide brimmed, pointed hat concealed his face. The black-green color of his ears and tail were plainly visible, though, and she thought it an unusual, and handsome, fur color.
More still were there others, men and women of various races that she didn't know. As she looked upon the members of her new company, her heart began to pound. She realized that she would now be in constant contact and proximity to all these people.
Did I make a mistake? How can I hide from so many? Is it only a matter of time? Will they hate me, too?
Ginal felt the beginnings of a nervous tremble, when a familiar gauntlet clad hand sat upon her shoulder. "Timothy." Grezel called out over the Canopy's clamor, "She has arrived."
The dark haired elezen looked up and smiled kindly at the younger miqo'te, "Ah, the lady of the hour has arrived!" He stood and motioned for attention before his mercenaries, "All of you, listen well." His soft toned voice was oddly authoritative as he spoke, and the group quieted their conversations to look to him.
"We are here not just for Mother Miounne's fine wines and ales," he began, "but to celebrate two wonderful happenings." He motioned toward Ginal, "First, meet out newest member. This is Ginal Celah, a rising star among the Lancers' Guild, and rather adept Ixal slayer." Her new fellows raised their glasses and cheered.
"The rules are simple," he began as he looked to Ginal. "We patrol Eorzea looking for monsters, fel fiends, bandits, and any other unpleasant obstructions to prosperous life, and we deal with those things. For a modest fee, of course." The mercenaries gathered laughed and cheered as Timothy grinned wide.
Her heart sank as her ears folded back. She felt like crying.
"Long have I seen within you the signs of someone concealing an inner conflict, and I have seen things like this spill over into the battlefield." Ywain shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Until you have found the courage to face this demon within, Ginal, I cannot release you from my responsibility. This will be your final trial." The Guildmaster set his hand upon her shoulder again, and without another word set off up the path toward the barracks.
Is the problem truly...within myself?
The troubled miqo'te sat at the water's edge, and stared out in thought as she fought back the tears of shame.
Once again, the open hall of the Carline Canopy called, this time for a meeting of the mercenary free company she had signed on with. The company commander, that soft voiced elezen named Timothy, had sent a moogle messenger to retrieve her. She was greeted at the entry by Grezel, who nodded to her and gestured to one side of the pub hall where a host of people had gathered.
Some of them she immediately recognized: There was that light skinned hyur archer woman, with the pretty long black hair and purple leather hunting armor. Ginal recalled her name as Ozalie.
Across the table from her was Timothy, who sat with this almost smug grin as rested his chin on his fist. His shining silver eyes peered at the archer woman, and Ginal's ears twitched as she caught an interesting exchange among the chorus of chatter. "Ozalie, my dear, how much longer are you going to make me wait before you marry me?"
The woman simply laughed and returned the grin, "I'm still thinking about it."
At the table nearest, she saw that lalafell man, Lupe, she believed, still clad in his elegant looking white mage robe. The small man's silver earrings bounced with the bobbing of his head as he conversed with another hyur man clad in the dragoon's armor. This man, though, was shorter and smaller of build than Grezel, and unfortunately the armor he wore hid any other distinguishing features.
The two were joined by the black mage she remembered as Aerick, who's wide brimmed, pointed hat concealed his face. The black-green color of his ears and tail were plainly visible, though, and she thought it an unusual, and handsome, fur color.
More still were there others, men and women of various races that she didn't know. As she looked upon the members of her new company, her heart began to pound. She realized that she would now be in constant contact and proximity to all these people.
Did I make a mistake? How can I hide from so many? Is it only a matter of time? Will they hate me, too?
Ginal felt the beginnings of a nervous tremble, when a familiar gauntlet clad hand sat upon her shoulder. "Timothy." Grezel called out over the Canopy's clamor, "She has arrived."
The dark haired elezen looked up and smiled kindly at the younger miqo'te, "Ah, the lady of the hour has arrived!" He stood and motioned for attention before his mercenaries, "All of you, listen well." His soft toned voice was oddly authoritative as he spoke, and the group quieted their conversations to look to him.
"We are here not just for Mother Miounne's fine wines and ales," he began, "but to celebrate two wonderful happenings." He motioned toward Ginal, "First, meet out newest member. This is Ginal Celah, a rising star among the Lancers' Guild, and rather adept Ixal slayer." Her new fellows raised their glasses and cheered.
"The rules are simple," he began as he looked to Ginal. "We patrol Eorzea looking for monsters, fel fiends, bandits, and any other unpleasant obstructions to prosperous life, and we deal with those things. For a modest fee, of course." The mercenaries gathered laughed and cheered as Timothy grinned wide.
"We are also here because we have received a special commendation from the state office of Gridania." Ginal noticed that her fellows seemed genuinely interested in their employer's words. "Doom responded faster and killed more of the Ixali than any other free company hired. So they payed us a bonus!" The scholar displayed a fist sized bag that jingled with the sound of coins, and threw it across the hall to land on the counter before Mother Miounne.
"This round is on Gridania, and don't forget...to spread the DOOM!" The mercenaries cheered again as Timothy returned to his seat.
Nophica bless me, I think they might be insane.
On any other day, she wouldn't have just been joining in the drinking, the laughing and the singing, but Ginal would have been leading the entire party from her place on top of a table, dancing away. Today though, as she sat away from the jubilation and stared out at the steady rain, she had no desire to be the life of the party. She just wished to sit, and mull over her thoughts and memories.
"I do believe you're missing an opportunity to show off your dancing," Grezel attempted a jibe as he pulled up a stool next to the miqo'te.
Ginal gave a distant, almost hollow smile. "I'm just not feeling celebratory today, I suppose."
Grezel sat for a long moment in silence, before standing and offering his hand to Ginal, "Come with me." She took his hand and followed, up the stairs and onto the winding balcony that overlooked the city. The muscular dragoon leaned the railing for a moment, then stood straight and removed his helmet, allowing his long black hair fell over his middle aged face.
I had almost forgotten how handsome he is.
Grezel rested his hands on Ginal's shoulders, his gaze kind and patient. "I do not see you as a pupil to be mentored, nor as a friend to share meals and sparring. Celah....Ginal...I see you as my sister. I love you as my own blood."
Ginal began to speak, her eyes wide with surprise. She decided to simply nod, a warm smile forming on her face.
"The prosperity of your life means a great deal to me...but I have long since seen in you the signs of a hidden struggle, a masked pain. I wish that you were comfortable enough to come to me, to share your burden, but I can accept that you are not." Ginal frowned sadly, knowing his words were true.
I'm sorry Grez...
The dragoon turned away a he gathered his thoughts. "I know you feel like nobody understands whatever it is that you contend with. I know you feel alone, and I see the signs of a person who cannot accept something about themselves." He turned to meet her gaze again, "Somewhere out there, though, is someone who does understand. Someone with whom you can share your burden. Someone will accept what you cannot." The young miqo'te looked away, out over the city as she furrowed her brow.
"Tears like these...If your demons live as deep as they appear to, then yes...I'm rather familiar with that desperate question."
Selah...do you understand? Can you accept me...? You are so wonderful...but can I trust you?
"Do you think there's a place for everyone in this world, Grez?" She rested over the railing as her tail swished about aimlessly.
Grezel nodded to her, "I absolutely do. I am just sorry I can't be the one to help you find yours."
I've lived like this for so long. So much hiding. So much pretending. I'm tired of it. Don't I deserve to be myself? I just don't want to be mocked and hated anymore. Matron, help me, what should I do?
Ginal hugged her adopted brother, purring softly as he embraced her in return. "You're a good brother, Grez. I'm sorry I haven't been a better sister." She smiled up at him and pulled away, retrieving her lance from against the doorway and harnessing it. "I think...there's someone I should go have words with."
The dragoon nodded as he adjusted his helmet back over his head. "It may not be so bad, to trust someone for a change." She stopped mid step and looked back, "I can try."
The miqo'te woman made her way back downstairs, adjusting her gauntlets as she walked. She stopped at the door to adjust her bootstaps, and her nose twitched at a familiar scent.
Lavender?
"Hello again, Kitten." Ginal looked up from her kneeling to see dragoon Selah, pulling down the rain soaked hood of a cloak over her outfit. The hyur woman brushed her auburn bangs out of her face, wearing that ever confident grin on her face. "Are you ready?"
Ginal blinked as she stood, the confusion plain on her face, "Ready for what?"
Selah handed over another cloak to the miqo'te, "Ready to undergo your final trial. We're leaving immediately"
"This round is on Gridania, and don't forget...to spread the DOOM!" The mercenaries cheered again as Timothy returned to his seat.
Nophica bless me, I think they might be insane.
On any other day, she wouldn't have just been joining in the drinking, the laughing and the singing, but Ginal would have been leading the entire party from her place on top of a table, dancing away. Today though, as she sat away from the jubilation and stared out at the steady rain, she had no desire to be the life of the party. She just wished to sit, and mull over her thoughts and memories.
"I do believe you're missing an opportunity to show off your dancing," Grezel attempted a jibe as he pulled up a stool next to the miqo'te.
Ginal gave a distant, almost hollow smile. "I'm just not feeling celebratory today, I suppose."
Grezel sat for a long moment in silence, before standing and offering his hand to Ginal, "Come with me." She took his hand and followed, up the stairs and onto the winding balcony that overlooked the city. The muscular dragoon leaned the railing for a moment, then stood straight and removed his helmet, allowing his long black hair fell over his middle aged face.
I had almost forgotten how handsome he is.
Grezel rested his hands on Ginal's shoulders, his gaze kind and patient. "I do not see you as a pupil to be mentored, nor as a friend to share meals and sparring. Celah....Ginal...I see you as my sister. I love you as my own blood."
Ginal began to speak, her eyes wide with surprise. She decided to simply nod, a warm smile forming on her face.
"The prosperity of your life means a great deal to me...but I have long since seen in you the signs of a hidden struggle, a masked pain. I wish that you were comfortable enough to come to me, to share your burden, but I can accept that you are not." Ginal frowned sadly, knowing his words were true.
I'm sorry Grez...
The dragoon turned away a he gathered his thoughts. "I know you feel like nobody understands whatever it is that you contend with. I know you feel alone, and I see the signs of a person who cannot accept something about themselves." He turned to meet her gaze again, "Somewhere out there, though, is someone who does understand. Someone with whom you can share your burden. Someone will accept what you cannot." The young miqo'te looked away, out over the city as she furrowed her brow.
"Tears like these...If your demons live as deep as they appear to, then yes...I'm rather familiar with that desperate question."
Selah...do you understand? Can you accept me...? You are so wonderful...but can I trust you?
"Do you think there's a place for everyone in this world, Grez?" She rested over the railing as her tail swished about aimlessly.
Grezel nodded to her, "I absolutely do. I am just sorry I can't be the one to help you find yours."
I've lived like this for so long. So much hiding. So much pretending. I'm tired of it. Don't I deserve to be myself? I just don't want to be mocked and hated anymore. Matron, help me, what should I do?
Ginal hugged her adopted brother, purring softly as he embraced her in return. "You're a good brother, Grez. I'm sorry I haven't been a better sister." She smiled up at him and pulled away, retrieving her lance from against the doorway and harnessing it. "I think...there's someone I should go have words with."
The dragoon nodded as he adjusted his helmet back over his head. "It may not be so bad, to trust someone for a change." She stopped mid step and looked back, "I can try."
The miqo'te woman made her way back downstairs, adjusting her gauntlets as she walked. She stopped at the door to adjust her bootstaps, and her nose twitched at a familiar scent.
Lavender?
"Hello again, Kitten." Ginal looked up from her kneeling to see dragoon Selah, pulling down the rain soaked hood of a cloak over her outfit. The hyur woman brushed her auburn bangs out of her face, wearing that ever confident grin on her face. "Are you ready?"
Ginal blinked as she stood, the confusion plain on her face, "Ready for what?"
Selah handed over another cloak to the miqo'te, "Ready to undergo your final trial. We're leaving immediately"
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