My little big sister had a day off and was currently watching me work while chewing a candied fruit that's been skewered mercilessly onto a wooden pike. Its innards were exposed to the stinging and open air. This violent method of torture ended with the fruit-
"Here, Winter. Ahhhh."
"Ahhhh."
Being eaten. Poor soul didn't stand a chance.
It was a peaceful day in the Modi household otherwise.
"Did you respond to that man yet, Momo-nee?"
I asked while savoring the grape's cries for mercy. I was a vicious bastard however. It would get no quarter from me.
"Ugh! Don't remind me!"
Momo-nee threw her head back in anguish and kicked her stubby legs. My little big sister was too cute. I supposed that's why she was so popular.
Momo-nee only had the work of aiding adventurers on her mind. Despite her absurd amounts of popularity, she firmly put her duty before herself.
"Is he handsome?"
"Eh."
"Is he kind?"
"Yes."
"Is he smart?"
"Somewhat...?"
"Is he rich?"
"No."
"...Then he goes..."
""into the trash!""
I walked up to a table that, somewhere in its mess, had the letter from a few days ago. I took it, tore it into smaller pieces and silently fed them to the flames of my alembic, which was currently processing Growth Serum Alpha.
I wasn't going to allow anything less than a 10/10 into the Modi household without serious compensation. Whoever that poor bastard was, he had much work to do yet.
"Kyaaaa!"
I had no idea where she got the energy from. Practically flying across the room, she latched her body to the side of my shoulder and began rubbing her forehead on my cheek with a furious speed, as if she were trying to start a fire.
"My Winter is too cute!!!"
She made me feel aged.
---
"Planning anything for the Starlight Celebration?"
I was with F'lhaminn cuddling in bed. My hand was enjoying the soft curves and plump hills of her body. I would do this whenever she had nightmares of her previous and surprisingly only other lover, Nielle. And of course after we finished having particularly rough sex.
Even now, Nielle's body hadn't begun to decay. It worried her that he would never be able to move on as she has. It concerned me as well. Not because he couldn't move on, but because I was unaware of a magic like that. Once again caught by surprise.
A soft hand was slowly massaging my sticky length. It was slathered in cum, saliva, and love nectar. Hushed squelching sounds echoed softly through the room.
kiss kiss slurp
"Yes, I'd like to do something for those poor refugees. Those children have no homes to return to this Starlight. No gil for gifts either."
Eorzea observed a number of Holidays. Some sponsored by the Adventurers' guild, others inspired by folk lore and legends.
The Starlight Celebration was the story of orphans who were rescued from the cold, near the end of the year, by knights from Ishgard, a theological city-state, north of Thanalan.
It was forbidden to house and feed those children, something about their doctrine, so they organized methods of deception. The children were instructed to hide within the knight's scarlet jackets when they went in and out of the barracks.
If they were ever found to have disobeyed the Holy See, it wouldn't have ended with just a slap on the wrist. Those knights would've been targeted for execution.
The reason? Heresy.
Even now, years on from the beginning of the legend, the Holy See was still that extreme, if not worse. A fact that kept me from entering Ishgard all this time. Those knights were more than brave, they were damn near angelic.
I didn't know if the knights were caught or not. But for the sake of the legend, I guessed it didn't matter. Those orphans never forgot the kindness they were shown and many years later they banded together for a new tradition. At the end of every year, they would wear similar scarlet jackets as their saviors and deliver presents to children across the realm.
It was Christmas of a different kind.
Adults ran around in red and white, obviously santa-like, clothing and gave children presents. I never got to experience it as a child since Eorzea expected you to reach adulthood earlier than normal. The grandchildren of Louisoix demonstrated this fact by following him to Eorzea when they were teenagers.
I was "born" into this world just on the cusp of that apparently. Not like I could tell. I didn't know my birthday. Seeing anyone over the age of 35 was somewhat rare. A sign of the dangers, even in an Astral Era, constantly taking lives. Despite that being the case, I enjoyed running around Ul'dah with a sack of presents on my back and seeing the kids cheer.
"What's the beard for?"
"It completes the look."
"The children of Ishgard did not have bushy white beards, Little Winter."
"...I have an extra, if you wish to join me."
"..."
Thancred was one of those annoying types that poke you, until you drag them into the fun. After I figured it out, I dragged him every time I was about to do something unusual. Even when he protested. Hell, even when he tried to run. Everything was more fun with an unwilling partner-in-crime. A Watson. Or perhaps a personal Adam Jensen.
Momo-nee had already made plans for Minfilia this coming Starlight.
"I simply asked what it is! Why do you evade my question?!"
"What is?"
"In that box! That's for the Starlight Celebration isn't it?!"
"I don't see a box though?"
"It's right there!"
And she enjoyed teasing her.
kiss slurp mmhm slurp bite
"I can provide aid if you wish."
Mainly because it was fun running around like that and I wanted to drag Thancred along again.
kiss
"Thank you, mast- Winter~"
My F'lhaminn was cute too.
SLAP
"Nyyyyaaannn~"
---
'Done.'
The 8th bottle of Growth Serum Alpha, an oil that was used in the creation of conjurer wands. It acted as a fertilizer, speeding up the growth of plant-life. The perfect conditioner for a wand that must one day grow into a staff.
Minfilia often found by-products when mining that couldn't earn her much gil when selling individually, so I bought them for use in smaller recipes like this one and flipped them into larger batches of potions, inks, and oils.
I usually sold my stock to my King and Waking God, Fridurih, in bundles of 8. Together with my solid progress as an Alchemist, we had made lots of coin together. He even introduced me to a small faction of Adventurers known as the Horn and Hand.
They dealt in the business of finding things that others had lost and forgotten. What I interpreted that to mean was something akin to Thancred's line of work. Mainly being intelligence.
Over the years, while I wasn't interested in getting them to dig into the goings on of the Syndicate, as if they got caught, it would likely trace back to me, I was interested in getting to understand the status of the realm during this time.
It's how I learned that basically no city-state had their 2.0 leadership in power yet. That meant that Ul'dah indeed had not been cleaned of her most blatant criminals, Gridania still stood in strict lockstep with the Elements, and Limsa had not yet outlawed piracy. However, Admiral Merlwyb, the 2.0 leader of Limsa Lominsa had indeed come to power. I couldn't help but wonder what changed. I thought she despised piracy.
The differing operations of the Horn and Hand required unique potions that could not be easily found and thus, had to be custom made with the aid of an Alchemist. I paid for information with my talents rather than gil.
I also learned that the Company of Heroes, at great cost, had just bested the Earth Primal, Titan, not too long ago.
One may ask themselves just how a gaggle of echoless nobodies across Eorzea's history could best the Primals? Well according to the intel gathered, it was wave tactics.
The first wave would go to die. To prove the Primals' scope of power.
The second wave would go to become Enthralled, focusing the energies and Aether of the primal upon themselves.
The last would launch sneak-attacks, hopefully able to bring the primal down before they were attacked by their comrades.
The Company of Heroes seemed to enjoy throwing their lives away like that. Many people did. Life was too cheap.
In this Age of Calm, I could not act as recklessly.
"Here's a new set, Fridurih."
"Har Ha-Har! Fantastic! Was just runnin' low. Doin' well lad?"
It was always nice re-connecting with him and catching up.
My schedule was organized but not strict. Unlike those other protagonists, my will was weak. Asking me to train hard for 10 years straight was criminal!
Well, it's not like I learned nothing and refused to train. I just had no reason to go hunting monsters. It's what the other protagonists would call Common Sense. Something like "you can only forge your killing intent within the heat of battle." Or perhaps, "only on the edge of death can you reveal your true potential."
It sounded juvenile. If I wanted someone dead, I surely wouldn't be interested in showing them my intent. Then there's the fact that I still didn't have a cheat or special power. I didn't gain xp from going around slaughtering foes. Me killing 1 Goobbue was the same as me killing 100, except the second me would be exhausted, hurt, and most likely dead.
The closest thing I had to a power, my talent for touching Aether, was good enough to amuse a few Academy children, warm my hands on a cold night, and if I had a phone, perhaps I could charge it from 5% to 45%.
The worst part is that, to go around killing monsters, you would inevitably need to register as an Adventurer to turn in monster parts, Guild Leves, or get brokered missions. The Adventurers' guild also had a solid incentive structure to keep their members using their exclusive and discounted services for gear repair, refurbishing, crafting, medical, retainers and consultation. You even got a free linkpearl.
Linkpearls acted as Eorzea's telephones across the Aether. But they were prohibitively expensive. Even Momo-nee only had one that she could use and it was sponsored by the Adventurers' guild headquarters.
Those advantages had multiple costs associated with them. Inflated income taxes, mandatory selective service for most war-like and event conflicts, stricter border checks, and lastly your social credit would tank.
Adventurers were largely seen as violent drunks who whore, sleep, and kill. It wasn't incorrect to assume that either. Years working part-time at the Quicksand led me to interact with plenty of... unsavory characters.
For my purposes, I was happy to let the protagonist do all the adventuring. I most likely had no choice but to join in the bigger fights, so I had to be powerful enough to handle them, but for the simple rank and file, day to day quests where you had to run around the whole continent to make a feast? I had more important things to take care of.
I was walking steadily towards the Gladiators' guild today. I had already become a Thaumaturge and knew how to use Fire. Soon I would grasp Thunder. Knowing how was not the same as being comfortable using it however. I only had enough MP to use it once.
Using Fire, would spawn Astral Fire. A disastrous and cursed "buff" that would make further fire spells cost more mana to use while increasing the damage.
The main issue with it, was that it did not restore MP like Astral Ice did. Meaning not only could I not use it more than once, but I also couldn't switch to Blizzard to gain Astral Ice. I wouldn't have enough gas in the proverbial tank to cast anything other than the one Fire spell.
Every other Thaumaturge on the star and in-game had access to a special skill called Transpose. It's sole purpose was to convert Astral Fire to Ice and vice-versa. It was also a skill that I struggled to learn. Transpose relied on the manipulation and control of your internal Aetherpool or MP. Something that an atypical mage like me could not do.
To use it I needed to understand how they worked. How the special effects came to be attached to Blizzard and Fire. What did Astral and Umbral truly mean? It was not going to be an easy problem to solve.
When I walked into the Thaumaturges' guild, already able to cast Blizzard, the receptionist, a strict looking Lalafell named Yayake, directly fainted.
It wasn't as if I had cast it without a wand. They gave me one and I used it. I didn't know why she fainted. Iron deficiency perhaps.
For some reason, word of my talents hadn't traveled anywhere. It was possible that the, now deceased, scion had blocked all information of his blunder, including of my abilities. I wanted to take advantage of that fact, but I had been a bit too naive.
Normally, one would be taught by a relevant master within the guild, however I was trained directly by Mumuepo. It was somewhat of a relief. Without the Echo, I wasn't sure that I could fulfill class story quests at all. I recalled quite a few of them rely on your forbidden knowledge to move the plot forward.
---
He already sensed that the way I casted Blizzard was strange. He stripped away all pretenses and directly asked me to explain how I truly worked my magic.
"Tell me your process."
I thought that perhaps I had been to hasty in judging Mumuepo. He worked properly as a guild master with no bullshit or nonsense. He could be cold, but he worked with death! Of course he was, right?
"First, I listen. I try to "hear" the Aether's flow around me."
I was currently explaining to Mumuepo, how I first learned Blizzard. I wasn't required to actually use it, as that required using my body as the medium. I wouldn't faint, but I wanted to be in the right head space to learn.
"Then I tried to "feel" it. I moved, what I call my "arms", to peel away a sliver of Aether from its... "river", I suppose."
"Hmu. Continue."
I decided to be honest with him. I needed to learn, and I couldn't do that without a master who knew what to teach me.
"At last, I thought about it. The magic I wanted to cast. And then-"
Fwoosh
A frigid burst of air blew across the room and showered the glowing training dummy with a cloak of snow. The result of casting with no medium was an amusing spell like that.
thud
"Yayake?!"
She fainted again.
Mumuepo carefully inspected the dummy and then tilted his head. The snow disappeared. Not defrosted or melted. It simply didn't exist anymore. I wanted to learn that. It was too cool.
"Stay there boy, I shall return."
And he did, with a massive tome floating behind him.
"Come."
He waved me over as he flipped through the pages. The book was taller than he was, but he navigated its breadth with practiced ease.
"There."
I almost bit my tongue off. On the page in front of me was a job from a game that I played casually but never completed.
Within Final Fantasy Tactics, there was a unique job that could use any sword based weapon, wear any armor and cast any magic. Well, as far as I knew it could.
The Rune Knight.
It was in this book, and almost every aspect that was on the page was covered in question marks.
XIV would eventually allow players to travel to Ivalice for a raid, but I personally never did it.
"This is a forgotten profession. Legends of it hail from across the star. Ivalice. They spoke of such a person, who wielded naught but a blade, but could cast magics, perform incredible feats of swordplay, and move as fast as shadows."
Mumuepo tapped the page.
"A Rune Knight. His armor was inscribed with strange symbols that granted him the power of Sorcery."
If he had a cigarette, I imagined Mumuepo taking a drag right about now.
Sorcery was a strange thing in XIV. One would imagine that the Black Mage was a Sorcerer, however the Job truly only belonged to the brilliant and savage rival of Louisoix. Also my favorite character in the game. Matoya. Perhaps to a lesser extent, her apprentice and founding Scion, Y'Shtola.
Sorcerer allowed one to use all 6 elements however they chose. In a way, it was very similar to my random hodgepodge of ideas. Perhaps I was limiting myself, trying to fit in the mold of XIV's job crystals and set class abilities. I already was breaking the "rules" by casting that unknown frost spell.
"This idea you have weaved irresponsibly in your head, normally I'd brush it off and tell you to learn the arts properly."
I told Mumuepo about my plan to channel all kinds of Magic through a sword. Not the way Dark Knights did. And certainly not like a Red Mage. I wanted to cast the full magic, just by using a sword blade as my medium. No staff. No special hovering gizmo that could get sniped and broken in the middle of a fight.
Now that I have seen the Rune Knight... I wasn't sure what to think. It was possible. But it's form was not what I had imagined. I would need to study Runes. Possibly delve beyond the confines of XIV's Alchemy Crafting Log. I needed the source of the profession. The underlying principles.
I needed education. Damn it.
"But what you've shown me today... It's difficult to believe quite frankly."
Mumuepo paused and looked up at the statue of Thal.
"My guild is far too small to keep you."
My brain short-circuited. Was I really that amazing? No. That's not what he was getting at. He was hesitant to teach me what he knew of such a crazy thing then send me off. It was irresponsible.
"Master Mumuepo!"
The Lalafell turned to face me steadily.
I bowed.
"I don't know what potential you see in me, but I wish to fulfill it."
"Hrm."
I stayed bowed. I needed the help. I had no idea where to get started. The Rune Knight flooded my mind and sapped my thoughts. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed exactly like what I needed. The glue to hold all the classes together. The frame upon which I could build my tower towards the end of the line.
"Raise your head boy. Then stay there. I must write a letter or two."
Mumuepo tottered off, taking his mega-book with him.
thud
"Ahh!! Yayake!!!"
---
Mumuepo handed me 4 letters. One for the Gladiators' guild, which I had handed over last month, one for the Conjurers' guild, one for an address in Limsa Lominsa that I didn't recognize, and one to a Mr. Louisoix.
He expressly told me to hand the last to Louisoix.
"There's no telling what he may do next."
While the idea of that was somewhat frightening I decided to be obedient.
Every week I would go in to learn from Mumuepo.
"You need not learn the deeper complexities of a Thaumatuge. Control over the elements and aspects are good enough for where you will be going next."
Basically, Mumuepo planned to teach me Fire, Thunder and Manaward. After that, it'd be a slap on the ass and a wave goodbye.
For further training I would likely have to find the Black Mage trainer. Would they teach me skills that were beyond level 50? One Black Mage skill, Triple Cast was incredible, but had a requirement of 66 I believed.
Perhaps if I studied, I could simply replicate it? It surely wouldn't be easy but I needed every edge I could get.
I had "learned" Manaward already. But I could not cast it just yet. It required a strange method of amplifying your MP and stacking it within yourself to create a barrier. Just like Transpose, I couldn't perform it, but I had understood the theory well enough.
I walked into the Gladiators' guild. A place of sweat, blood and dirt.
"Ah! It's pretty boy!"
A nickname I had earned. It's similar to how a very small man was called Biggs. Or a poor man called Richy. I, likewise, was pretty boy. I wasn't ugly, I knew that to be true because my Momo-nee said so. But the hair subtracted many points and left me listless. It was my natural color. My pubes were the same cotton candy pink as well. I wanted to die.
"Winter! Over here!"
A blond girl with a cute button nose and strong as hell eyebrows waved at me.
"Hello dear Mylla. You look beautiful today, as always."
I walked over and kissed the back of her hand with a smile on my face. A habit ground into me by debonair brother, Thancred.
"Throw many fishing lines, catch many fish and pull them all out the sea!"
"Is that what you do?"
"Little Winter, when you succeed, as often I have, you find that the true success was catching them at all-"
"Though, I've never seen you with a woman for longer than a few moons... Ahhhhhhh! Stop iiiiit!"
The girl was on age with Minfilia. Even though she had a strong spirit, she was still a maiden in the end. Her blush was light and made her strong eye brows compliment her face rather than define it.
"Hello to you as well sweet Adal. Your glow enlightens every corner of the room."
Another peck on the back of her hand. She had more calluses than Mylla, but I treated her hand just as gently.
Adal was a year older than her friend.
"H-Hello... Winter."
Despite being older she was as meek as a kitten. Her fiery crimson hair was as red as her face.
The story writes itself quite frankly. Mylla and Adalberta would go on to head the Gladiators' and Miners' guild respectively after the Calamity.
It was something I didn't consider at all when I first joined.
"That map you gave has aided Minfilia handily. She conveyed her thanks."
"A-Ah! Don't mention it! Anytime!"
She waved her hands around, flustered.
"Winter, I heard you were heading to Gridania soon! Is that true?"
Mylla, still slightly blushing, was bubbly at the prospect.
"Heard that from Minfilia, ey?"
"Aye!"
The woman couldn't keep a secret from her friends. Well, I supposed it wasn't really a secret.
"What do you plan to do there?"
Adal gazed at me quietly, she also seemed curious about my answer.
"Well I need to purchase a certain kind of wood, then I need to gain entry into the Conjurers' guild."
"Eh?"
"You're joining another guild? Aren't you already in the Thauma-"
"Shut up Aldis!"
Crack
"Gahhhh!"
Mylla's strong fist connected with the back of a boy's head. His eyes were squinting in pain and he rubbed his black hair with indignation.
"What in the hells, Mylla!"
"You have no right to question Winter's choices!"
Crack
"Gyahhh!"
"They're getting along well, ey Adal?"
"Mm."
The boy was stubborn. His eyes radiated with a passion to challenge God. I knew he was about to say something he would shortly regret. As I used every fiber in my being to stop him, by standing perfectly still and letting the idiot die, he spoke while the toll bell rang over his head.
"You wouldn't be acting like this if you both weren't chirping and cawing after that bastard Winter!"
There was a pin-drop silence within the blood-soaked walls of the guild hall. No swords crossed. No boisterous laughter. This idiot hated being alive. It was the only thing I could assume.
I prayed in my heart for his salvation as Mylla and Adal both walked up to poor Aldis. I couldn't see their faces, but I imagined they didn't look good.
---
Deeper in the guild was a set of training dummies that I practiced with over the years. My combat style was seemingly too bizarre. No one on the bloodsands, or rather, the Coliseum, wanted to trade blows with me after the first bout. Whether they won or lost, they all said similar things.
"Don't mess with that guy."
I wasn't sure what made me seem so bizarre. My internal monologue was reliably explained my strengths and weaknesses to me.
I picked up a pair of wrought-iron shortswords. The one I held in my left hand was in a reverse-grip. I wasn't doing that because I thought it looked cool.
Or at least I wasn't anymore.
Now I held my blades as such because I had found a strange synergy or "talent" with them like this. It wasn't quite as natural as my ability to "touch" Aether, but I could feel something that "fit" me. As a poor sack of shit that entered this world with no cheats or advantages, I prayed that this was an indicator of some kind. I needed to be so much stronger than this.
I stopped in front of my favorite training dummy. Nothing about him was different than the others, but he was who I chose. Thus, he was my favorite.
Perhaps, they didn't enjoy fighting things that were unfamiliar. I was of two minds on the issue.
I readied my stance.
One half of the argument said that one must be prepared to take down any foe. Practicing against unfamiliar styles is common sense.
Swing Swing Whoo-Crash
During my first year in this place, I learned how to integrate a move from the Red Mage's arsenal into my skill set. Displacement was an attack that saw the Red Mage flipping backwards and delivering a flying slash simultaneously. While I could not do the Red Mage's elegant flip at the moment, I had long since learned the essence of the attack. Retreating while attacking.
My other mind said that these gladiators only existed for the Coliseum. Within, they would not find strange and foreign fighting styles, simply what they already knew. Why learn useless nonsense?
Shiing Shiiing Whoosh Crash
With every attack, I channeled my Aether as if I planned to fire off an attack, but I never did. The dummy, the weapon, and my body would prove to be far less enduring in the face of magic.
In this world, magic was king. This wasn't some crazy eastern urban fantasy where you could swing sword beams and fly on them like magic carpets. If you couldn't close the distance between you and a mage, then you'd be dead.
Crash Shing Shing
They tried to give the honorable blade a chance in Stormblood, but in the end, magic was always too much. Would you rather spend 6 months carefully honing your Samurai rotations only to choke and mis-click during a Savage Raid? Or would you rather roll your face on the keyboard, hit a macro, go grab a coffee, and come back to see the loot being handed out?
Whoosh Shing Shing Shhiiiing
I was a Warrior main. I understood the complexities of maintaining a proper rotation for maximum damage output. But I also knew how it felt to be capable of playing the game with my finger hovering over 3 buttons. My attack combo macro, my gauge reset, and Fell Cleave.
[Riot Blade]
I stabbed my right sword forward into the dummy. The angle of the attack wasn't meant to do damage, but to create force.
click - whoosh
The purpose of weaponskills were to adjust the body's condition in such a way that it can transform its sheer power into other effects.
In Naruto, they formed hand-signs that had the sole purpose of forcing the user to guide their Chakra in the right patterns to perform Ninjutsu. But as you became more familiar with the flow, you could cut out steps.
Magic worked in a similar way. The words you would chant were to help you guide the Aether through the right methods and perform the result.
I could directly "touch" the Aether, so I had no problems understanding why my spell would fail. It would always be an issue of execution.
To cast Ice spells, I had to gently pull the Aether as if I were peeling a layer away. But for Fire, I had to pull so fast that the Aether didn't have the time to flex and stretch. Like a rubber band that endured too much force at once, it'd instantly snap. Lightning was difficult for me to understand.
Master Mumuepo instructed me to take a layer off then put it back onto the stream. The result would be Lightning. However I was having a tough time with it. The Aether didn't want to stick in its own. I had to hold it there. It was bizarre.
"Whew."
Riot Blade, an early-game Gladiator skill, forced your body to turn in a way, that upon impact, small foci of Aether within your body would "gasp" and fill with MP.
I assumed all MP restoring weaponskills behaved like this, however Riot Blade was my first time experiencing it. I looked at the hourglass I set when stepping into the room. It was time to go. I departed for Gridania tomorrow.