The next morning, I was invited to correspond with a man that I did not think I could so easily meet with.
"That is the story that your face tells, at the very least."
The tall Elezen greeted me as he would greet any normal person on the street. The commander of the Temple Knights had earned his people's loyalty with compassion and warmth. Though he seemingly had not earned that station quite yet, the fact that he was here amongst his future troops, treating them like brothers, it spoke to his character.
If Haurchefant was an excitable and courageous dog, then Ser Aymeric de Borel was a well mannered and pragmatic cat. Both men were bastards in a way. While Haurchefant was the bastard of a noble house, Aymeric was the bastard of Thordan VII. Ishgard's Archbishop and the highest seat of authority in the entire city-state.
No big deal.
"Apologies, I hadn't expected to speak with a hallowed Temple Knight at a time like this..."
"No need for pleasantries Winter! A Knight lives to serve - to aid those in need! Of that, you are no exception!"
The brave and lovable dog declared as much with his hands on his hips.
"He's right. You'd do well not to stand on ceremony. We are both men that bleed red."
Set Aymeric had an amused smile on his lips. The morning daylight streamed in through the window and made his umbral mop of black hair shine as brightly as his blue eyes did. Every movement echoed the gentle clinging of chainmail, a lighter variant that allowed for greater mobility when using... a bow.
The Aymeric I knew in game was a Paladin, a radical departure that I could only chalk up to being a part of his backstory. I did take comfort that some things that didn't change however.
"Haha, you're right. I'll drop the pretenses then. Thank you for giving me your time, all three of you. I'm keenly aware that the Dragonsong War has many under great burden."
Next to Aymeric stood an armored and complicated character that I wasn't entirely sure how to categorize. She had a short platinum bob hairstyle that covered one of her eyes. On her forehead was a dull gray gem, embedded into a circlet, conveniently hiding a special eye that looked like a gemstone. This third eye, granted pure-blooded Garleans a boost in their spatial perception and increase in dexterity in exchange for their ability to use Aether based magicks.
Lucia Junius was a spy. She and her sister, a crazy and violent bitch named Livia, were raised as orphans in the Garlean Empire. While the sadist went on to become a soldier, Lucia was put to work as a spy in Ishgard.
"It is of no concern. Please, have a drink, I'm very interested in getting to know our guest."
The thing was, Lucia was a shitty spy. Or Aymeric was unusually sharp. She was found out quickly, but instead of throwing her in prison or killing her on sight, Aymeric had mercy. He worked to pull her away from the Empire and decided to keep her by his side as his right hand. With years of work, he managed to secure a faithful second-in-command.
Still, speaking with the man himself, I could finally understand how he lead the nation of Ishgard out of its dark ages. The charisma oozed out of his pores and showed me up something fierce. This was the difference between someone trained formally in diplomacy since they were young, and an upstart imitation politician that could only parrot things I heard on TV. Only after a few hours of casual chatting, could we finally get to the meat of my objective.
Truly a diplomat. Get a load of this guy!
"Now, as I understand, you wished to gain entry into Ishgard?"
"Well, more than that, I'm trying to pass through into Falcon's Nest. I'd also like to pay for an exclusive transport that can take my Chocobo back to Ul'dah."
2 bastards, a spy, and a pink son of a bitch walk into a bar. It was the setup to an unfunny joke.
"Falcon's Nest?! By the Twelve Winter! What do you mean to hunt?!"
"Hehe, for the record, I don't intend to hunt anything. I needed to pass through and reach the Dravanian Hinterlands from there."
"The Dravanian Hinterlands?!"
Ah, she finally spoke. Lucia was a taciturn woman, usually refusing to speak unless asked to. Throughout all of 3.0, players only got to speak with her for a small amount of time. The real majority of time you spent as a player was dealing with the two other men in the room, and then one last bastard lone wolf who caused more harm than good. While I mulled over my response, I couldn't help but notice Lucia's eyes on me rather than my swords. As a woman of Garlean descent, I had assumed that her mind would still be tempered with thoughts of warfare and blood.
How far was Aymeric in brainwashing her to his side? Would my involvement suddenly sway her to return to her handlers in Garlemald? Would Livia decide to move sooner rather than later? Did I need to deal with this woman somehow? How would her moans sound while I was slamming her insides on the Vigil's walls?
'Stop that.'
All questions with no answers unfortunately.
"Yes. That place is the entire reason I've made this trip."
"Woah... You're a brave man Winter... Superb!"
Did Haurchefant always have such an adoring gaze? I wasn't even a licensed adventurer. In fact, I never wanted to be one. I was a poor sack of shit that just so happened to be on an "adventure" of sorts. If anyone caught me with false valor here, I'd be drawn and quartered.
"Are you aware of the beasts that stalk the Hinterlands?"
Why was she so concerned? Was there something happening there? Did the Garleans already move? Wasn't it too early? The Grand Companies had yet to fully form and re-arm themselves.
"Unfortunately, I am well aware. But I wouldn't have come this far without careful thought and planning. I do value my life after all."
I lied of course. Outside of a few maps and the bestiary I had rented out from the Thaumaturges, there was no way I could possibly know what awaited me in that place. I had a naive hope that since the Calamity didn't suddenly jack up the strength of all monsters and the Sharlayan abandonment wasn't too long ago, that I could just walk in and nothing would try to eat me. I was flying by the seat of my pants for my beloved Master Matoya! Forgive me, Fridurih. I have a new god to attend to. I have room in my heart for plenty of women, but only one divine! Hallelujah!
I could feel Aymeric's gaze flick to the longsword I wore on my back, then the short sword that hung down from my waist. An analysis of my strength perhaps. That son of a bitch Slafborn could analyze me without leaving my eyes. Aymeric seemingly hadn't picked up his true talents just yet.
"Well, if you don't plan to stay, I suppose getting you entry would be okay..."
'No sidequest, no sidequest, no sidequest!'
"Mm. You seem capable enough. Very well."
Aymeric dug around in his desk drawer and handed me a stone that seemed to be inscribed with silver patterns. Was this the ticket one used to enter?
"With this, you can freely enter and exit Ishgard on my authority. We shall faithfully take your Chocobo back to Ul'dah, free of charge."
"...?"
Why? If it was Haurchefant, then perhaps I wouldn't have blinked. It fit his character, but Aymeric?
"I'm sorry, I-"
"It truly is written all over your face."
Aymeric gave me a wry smile.
"Though, it is assuring to know that you likely aren't tricked easily, my gesture requires explanation it seems."
"I don't mean to be rude. It's just that life has seldom given me free meals."
"Mmm! Another brilliant Winter quote! I shouldn't have forgotten my notebook! Simply superb!"
"Then treat it as a debt, if you will."
Aymeric's eyes met mine with an obvious playfulness hidden within them.
"With this token, you owe me friendship, and a promise to meet again."
---
Winter seemingly cooed and nuzzled against his Chocobo in what Aymeric could only describe as a tearful farewell.
"Ser-"
"I am aware of what you wish to ask."
How could he not. He only had 5 tokens that he could hand out. Each one transferred upon the holder, an authority that directly matched his own. That token would let Winter waltz into the Holy See unabated if he so wished.
"Tell me, did you notice anything strange about him?"
Winter now went to share a hug with Haurchefant. It seemed that those two had grown a friendship overnight. Though Aymeric wasn't surprised. Haurchefant had that effect on people.
"W-well..."
"Hm?"
It was highly unusual for Lucia to stutter.
"He... was very handsome... strangely so..."
"..."
That's not what he meant by strange. While yes, the young man did have an otherworldly beauty that Aymeric couldn't deny, what interested him more were those swords.
A trek through Coerthas and not a single dent or splash of blood on them. The voidsent in particular corroded steel. Yet, the blades looked brand new.
He also didn't wear any armor, instead Winter entrusted his defense to Protect, a spell that should be impossible for him to obtain. In addition, he came to the meeting with it applied. That could only mean one thing, Winter had cast Protect himself before the meeting. Aymeric had drawn out their introductions far beyond the point of normalcy, but Winter didn't blink and neither did Protect. Was he being tolerant or was he ignorant of etiquette? Either option provided an answer that could be abstracted upon, but more importantly than that, Protect did not fade away as it should have.
Aymeric knew full well that Protect did not last that long. It could barely last an hour according to the best Astrologian he knew. Setting aside its abnormal potency, Winter did not have a wand on his person. Though, he could have simply kept the wand in an awkward place such as an inner coat pocket. To top it all off, since Winter could cast Protect, who was to say that was the only magic he knew? Untouched blades. Unusual spell duration. A tolerant attitude that remained despite the obvious breech in etiquette. Aymeric had all the pieces to the puzzle, but he struggled to put them together. What could it all mean?
"Just like I told him, I made an investment. Winter would be a fantastic friend to have."
Aymeric trusted his gut. This was a bridge that had to be built. He was sure of it.
"Ah...yes...then, we will be seeing him again...?"
"..."
What was this woman thinking?
---
I had packed lightly, ready for this exact moment. On my back, was a traditional fur backpack that held my maps, crystals, tools, letters, and books. I packed like a proper scholar. The issue now was that I couldn't reach my longsword as it was under the backpack. An issue that I didn't see coming. On Earth, backpackers would spend time with the pack on their back before going on long treks. I should've heeded their wisdom instead of brushing off the minor details. I surely had enough time to think of things like these.
"Hold."
The two knights that guarded the Gates of Judgement stopped me. Without prompting, I held out the token Aymeric gave me, having full faith that this wasn't a secret message to arrest me and send me to the Inquisitors for interrogation.
"Mm. Very well."
"Thank you. By chance do you know how long it took to build this bridge?"
"No."
"It's rather large, right?"
"Yes."
"Must take a lot of time going from one end to another, haha."
"...Yes."
He cracked a bit. I just wanted to make some friendly talk and get a feel for how I'd be treated trying to get through Ishgard. It seemed like I'd be left alone, but I didn't want to make all of this trip for nothing.
"...Is it that bad?"
"...Yes."
"And I have to walk it? No surprise minecart or express carriage?"
"...Yes."
"Any advice?"
"No."
"Bear with it."
The second guard spoke. It was a good sign that things wouldn't be terrible. Without another word, I made a dreadful face to wrap up the mini-story I weaved, and began walking.
And walking.
And walking.
'...'
Tap tap tap
My footsteps echoed off the thick and dense cobblestones then bounced off the walls. At times like this, I couldn't help but reflect on my time crawling out of that hole of corpses and walking through the dark and barren wastes of Thanalan, defenseless, alone, and terrified.
Tap tap tap
I had long since stopped trying to figure out what that hole was, who was in it, or why I was there too. The dress clothes I wore hinted at one thing, but then reality became another. I had even begun to think that my body didn't even belong to someone else to begin with. There were not many characters in XIV with pink hair after all. But if this was a body of my own, they could've at least used my in game character before transporting me over right?
Tap tap tap
E-Sumi-Yan had beat into my head that I needed to reinforce concepts for my magicks to function. I never stopped trying to manifest a magical gun, or some overpowered cheat code that could blow away all of the future troubles I'd encounter. I remembered very well that the Machinist Limit Break summoned a fucking drop ship. If they could do that, then surely I could summon a gun!
Tap tap tap
Was it possible that my body was a manifestation? A strange thing that my soul created from scratch? As time went on, and my strange biological quirks became more familiar to me, I stopped thinking of the idea as absurd or impossible. No matter what, just as E-Sumi-Yan said, this body was mine now. From the tips of my toes to the top of my salmon pink head.
'It's all mine.'
I looked out over the bridge's edge into the foggy sea of clouds below. The Sea of Clouds was an actual place in XIV, but I could never determine if it was above or below Ishgard. Perhaps it was both.
Tap tap tap
Other than the endless fog off the edges of the bridge, the beautiful mountain views that surrounded me, and the bridge that seemed to scrape the sky, my walk was seemingly uneventful. Though that wasn't a bad thing. How shitty would it be if I was assaulted by a Dragon at a time like this? I'd rather just Hearthstone home and forget about fighting one. Dragon strength varied wildly depending on which kind you had to fight, but even the weakest Dragon was annoying.
Tap tap tap
'...'
The guard wasn't lying. The walk was rough, and it was getting cold. I pulled my hood up to cover my ears. The windchill threatened to bite them off otherwise. I didn't want to camp out on the Steps of Faith or even in Ishgard. The best case scenario was putting my Warp Marker into an inn room at Falcon's Nest and fulfilling my duties as a man back in Gridania. I didn't want to risk some snot-nosed brat suddenly finding my crystal and throwing it into the Sea of Clouds for fun.
---
The Tower of Babel was an old myth in Genesis that explained the different languages of the world. It was said that mankind, led by a man named Nimrod, I shit you not, had deemed it imperative to spend their weekend building a tower into the heavens. The story varied based on who told it, but the version I came to understand and grow familiar with said God was appreciative of man-kind's unity, but also furious at their arrogance. He smited their tower that was already far beyond the clouds, and scattered humanity across the world, inflicting them with a curse that confused their speech and divided their tongues.
I felt like a country bumpkin finally reaching the big city, but that story suddenly popped into my mind as I looked up into the towers and throat of Ishgard, realizing that I could not see the top. If one could imagine looking down a seemingly endless hallway, that's how I felt looking up into the strata of the city-state. I assumed my behavior was a common occurrence as the guards didn't attempt to stop me.
If I had serious political backing, then perhaps I could take the time and tour the city. Ishgard in-game was a hollowed out mess of half-finished construction projects, refugees and the desperate begging on the streets for food and a warm place to sleep, tattered clothes and despondent faces. The Calamity had brought an eternal and everlasting winter to all of Coerthas. Ishgard was then pummeled by Dragon attacks that hollowed out their citizenry and wiped out the majority of Thordan VII's Heaven's Ward.
The Ishgard in my eyes now wasn't exactly spiritedly bounding for joy, but it wasn't too cold, the snow was light, and half the damn city wasn't rubble. Everyone went about their days as if a Primal did not sit within the halls of power. I wasn't keen to stick around either. Though, once again, the city lacked a lot of richness and detail that I came to expect from XIV, I put that thought aside. As one of the only places in XIV where one could afford to purchase a house, I spent too much time in Ishgard to not recognize the various streets and how I had to move in order to reach Falcon's Nest.
I was already in the entrance of Ishgard, Foundation. I just had to walk past the Aetheryte plaza, past the Skysteel Manufactory after that, then the Coerthas Western Highlands should've been a pathway on the left. A straight shot to Falcon's Nest. I didn't waste any time lollygagging, popplesnoodling, or even gagooglymoogling. Daylight was already scarce after all.