Pearls of Light (FFXIV, SI WoL isekai, sfw semi-harem)

[Dastren]

Hello all! Going to try my hand at a little bit more writing again. I've been cracking out on Final Fantasy XIV for a long time now, and finally feel up to doing some meddling.

As usual, I have to start off with the caveat that my schedule is very erratic and I have problems staying motivated from time to time. Basically, I will post whenever I'm able to, and there's no guarantees for that. To make up for that, though, I'm going to blitz you all with the first three chapters posted all at once! Enjoy!

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Five minutes ago, I was absolutely zooted on damn near every tranquilizer and pain killer in the known world. I was entirely lost in the dreamlike, uncontrolled free-fall sensation, seeing stuff that definitely wasn't there in the ICU with me. But on the brighter side, I also wasn't feeling the forty to sixty percent of my body that was left back in my bedroom-slash-impromptu-garage for the guy who must have been equally zooted on something on the south side of legal, as he was driving fast enough to park his car on the second story of my apartment building.

Over the last few minutes though, I had been seeing less and less of stuff that wasn't there, along with less of stuff that was. Same went for everything I was hearing, including that annoying, semi-regular beeping sound. Thank goodness.

Oh, wait.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

Oh well.

I was tired anyway.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, then drifted off to sleep.

Eh, I wasn't kidding anybody. This was no nap I was in for. You wake up from those. The dark swallowed me, and I stopped hearing things, stopped feeling things, stopped thinking things. Just… stopped.

And then… a wispy little ribbon of rainbow-hued light drifted past my vision. I could hear… was that music? No, more like the suggestion of music. Noise in tones that rose and fell, but not in any pattern I could make sense of. I felt a steady, warm breeze on my skin, blowing through my hair. It felt nice, all the way down to the bottom of my feet.

My feet?

I blinked, and shook the cobwebs out of my brain. I shouldn't have feet anymore. And yet, there they were, as I bent in on myself, floating in the void as I was. I was naked, which wasn't pleasant for anybody involved, but I was alone, so that was good. Hold on though, on second thought, that music actually did sound rather familiar. Almost like…

"HEAR."

What? Who the hell said that? I looked around for the distinctly feminine voice, sending me spinning in the darkness, which must not have been all that dark, because I had just seen my legs, hadn't I?

"FEEL."

Oh. Oh shit. I had been here before. This was not a new sensation to me. This felt oddly like… like coming home?

"THINK."


The memories slammed back into me like a major league fastball to the head. I knew where I was. I knew what this was. Furthermore, I knew who this was. As if on cue, my whirling through the formless void ceased, and I beheld a colossal, pale blue crystal, with numerous smaller crystals orbiting it at an off-kilter angle. Its edges and facets were roughly hewn, but it still managed to take the basic shape of a tall diamond, thinning out closer to the top and bottom.

I would have recognized the introduction to Final Fantasy XIV anytime, anywhere. It was one of my favorite games, indelibly branded into my psyche. I knew the system. I knew the world. I knew its lore, its history, its theory. I knew the plot.

Clearly, something unexpected had happened. I had consumed enough isekai anime that this didn't leave me shocked in the slightest. Was it a dream? Was it the game itself? Was it an alternate universe? Did that even matter?

It did, up to a point. If it was a dream, I shouldn't have fine control over anything, even my own actions. If it was a game, I was going to be limited to the same experiences that the game put all the players through. If it was an alternate universe… that was a whole new ball of proverbial wax.

Fortunately, this was an excellent opportunity to find out. In this game, your character, the Warrior of Light, was almost an entirely silent protagonist. Your choices were effectively limited to saying something that progressed the story, something that progressed the story but slightly snarkier, and something that delayed progressing the story so you could go screw around doing your crafting quests and decorating your apartment for a couple months while the villains politely waited, poised to destroy the world, until you were good and ready for them.

All I had to do to find out the nature of my new reality was break that silence. Using the knowledge I had of the game, I tried to do so with a single word.

"Venat."

I could only relate the following sensation to standing naked on a dark stage, and hearing a packed house conversing among themselves, paying no mind to you at all, when all of a sudden, a spotlight hits you like a physical object, and the entire audience focuses their attention on you at the same time.

Dialed up to eleven.

Million.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?"


Despite the absence of another person, the feeling of being inspected was nearly overwhelming.

"Not a game," I thought. "Not a game not a game not a game not a game."

This wasn't the first time I had been on stage though. Acting was nothing new to me. All I had to do was assume a character and deliver my lines.

"Your name isn't the only thing I know." I said, hoping it didn't ring as hollow as it sounded in my head. "I have a lot more to offer you, if you're of a mind to take advantage of it. We should speak. I know that you must conserve your strength, so whatever form is easiest for you is fine by me."

My words hung in the void for a few moments, before the giant crystal flashed with a bright, white light, and was gone, replaced by a few drifting, sparkling motes. Either they rose, or I sank, and soon, I felt my feet come gently to rest on a smooth stone floor. There was a rustle of fabric in the wind, and I was suddenly, thankfully, clothed in a uniform black robe. There was light here, off to the left, and as I turned to look that way, I saw her.

She was the very definition of a knockout. She had perfectly smooth skin, a sculpted neck that rose from her own set of robes that were, like her long hair, completely white as bleached snow. Her chin had a bit of a sharp angle to it, but what totally blew me away were her eyes. They were totally, unnaturally blue. They almost gave off their own light, like the hottest part of a gas flame that never cooled into the orange part of the spectrum.

She relaxed in a simple wooden chair, at a stone table, and when she knew I saw her, she leaned back and kicked a second chair out from under it in my direction, and it smoothly glided across the floor with hardly a sound.

"So," Venat said, "this ought to be interesting. Take a seat, and let's talk."

I did, and as I did, the woman flicked her wrist, causing two large, steaming mugs of hot chocolate to appear. I smiled, and saluted her with the cup before taking my first sip. Perfect temperature. "Oh, that's good, thank you. Ok. Where do you want me to start?"

"Well, you know my name already; which is the first time this has happened since… well, a very long time, but I don't know yours," said Venat, narrowing her eyes not in anger, but in curiosity. That feeling of being inspected washed over me again, but nowhere near as large and unmanageable as before.

"Ah, of course. I'm Be-" I stopped myself. I almost blurted out the name that I had just left behind. The one I used in the world I left behind. But that wasn't a name for here. Here, I was, "Vercin. Vercin Ordannus."

"Alright, Vercin. How do you know my name? Most people who have seen what you just saw call me The Mothercrystal. Many people also refer to me as Hydaelyn, though few who do know why, and fewer still have made the connection that Hydaelyn and The Mothercrystal are the same entity. To my knowledge, you are the fourth person in existence to know that Hydaelyn and The Mothercrystal are me and that my real name is Venat."

"The other three being Hephastios, Hades, and Themis?" I asked, smiling dryly.

"… Yes. Them," Venat said, clearly at a loss as to how I knew not only the Unsundered, but their true names as well.

"Well…" I drew the word out, trying to put my words in an order that would make sense. "Have you ever heard of the many worlds theory? That there are multiple universes out there, and that with enough skill and power, one can travel from one to another." She nodded along, causing a strand of silken hair to come loose, which she promptly brushed back behind her ear. "You also know that the flow of time is far and away different in these 'reflections' of a world, and that… in theory at least, they are all connected by the same astral sea."

"I am well aware that they are," she mentioned, looking down into her hot chocolate as she thought, "as I use them fairly extensively."

"However, I might not even be from one of the thirteen reflections that you, uh, monitor. Consider the possibility that every star out there in the wide universe may have many reflections as well."

"Of course. That would only make sense. And for some reason, when you died, your soul did not part from your memories, as these things typically go. But that still doesn't explain how you know all these things."

"Right. Well. Despite being rather mundane from my perspective, this is the part you may have trouble with. I come from a world where many of the events that shaped Ethyris are told as fiction."

Venat looked at me like I was crazy. "Fiction," she said in an unimpressed monotone. Then, her gaze drifted to the side, lost in thought. She put her mug down on the table, and crossed her arms, as though she could stubbornly disprove what I had claimed via willpower alone. In the end, she looked at me, and said, "Say I believe you. That you hold knowledge about what is going on. Then what?"

"Well… what was it that you were doing that you needed my soul for?" I asked, already knowing that she was about to reincarnate me into the Warrior of Light.

"I was about to make you into another Warrior of Light to send down to Ethyris."

"Wait… another? I thought you only made one."

Venat smiled at that, and laughed. She had a nice smile. "Well, perhaps your work of fiction was rather incomplete then, hmm? It didn't quite cover every aspect? Let me guess, it was from the point of view of the one-and-only Warrior of Light, wasn't it?"

"Um," I said eloquently, "yeah."

"That explains a few things then. I assume you also never fully learned how The Echo works, did you?"

I shook my head. "As far as I know, it lets us see events that happened in the past as though we were there, allow us to dodge attacks by showing us where not to stand, understand all sorts of other beings, and allows us to manipulate Dynamis to a certain extent."

Venat raised a white eyebrow at that. "You know about Dynamis then? That's helpful, but not all that The Echo is capable of doing. Your many worlds theory is one that I created The Echo to exploit. Every choice, every decision, no matter how insignificant it seems, has the chance to spin off a brand-new universe of possibilities. And, since different people will make different choices, I've been making hundreds of thousands of Warriors of Light."

"Oh," I said, catching on. "So every time you send a Warrior of Light to Ethyris, that spins off a new set of possible realities. And since that leaves a version without a Warrior of Light, you can repeat the process as many times as you want until at least one person is able to push through and overcome the Final Days! That's genius!"

"I know," Venat said modestly, "but it gets even better. If ever someone with The Echo perishes, the reality that they were in gets automatically pruned. Then, their consciousness gets seamlessly distributed among all realities where they didn't die. The resulting effect is that so long as they haven't completely eliminated every alternative, they are effectively immortal. It's certainly not perfect, though. Even if the one with my blessing survives, any comrades killed in the line of duty will unfortunately stay that way."

Wow. Wow. That was insanely powerful. That was… wait. That was indistinguishable from how it worked in the game. If you died, you just re-started from the beginning of your dungeon or your home point. Furthermore, it allowed the copies of you to effectively learn from your mistakes, even if they were fatal.

I looked at the woman sitting across the table from me in a new light. She wasn't just a beautiful and literal goddess. She was a damn genius, too. "No wonder the story always portrayed you as needing to conserve your strength. That must take a lot out of you."

Venat nodded at me, but otherwise offered no comment on the subject. "Anyway," she said, "what is it you were going to do with this extraordinary foresight of yours?"

"Save people," I told her. There was no acting involved with that. I gave it to her straight. "Your plan to end the Final Days will be successful, at least according to what I know, but if there could be more than one single way to achieve that…" I trailed off, wondering how many needless deaths I might be able to prevent. There was only one way to find out. "I would take a different path, and try to do better. Save more people than the Warrior of Light did, even in the story that I know."

The goddess looked at me for a long moment, as though she were taking my measure. Then, she closed her eyes, and nodded once. "Very well then, Vercin. Let me arm you with my greatest weapon: knowledge. Tell me what it is you do not yet know about Ethyris, and I will help you form your plan."

And so… we conspired.

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[Dastren]

The baking Thanalan heat greeted me before anything else did, although it was rapidly followed up by the cheerful song of birds in the trees, the gentle swaying and squeaking wheels of the carriage I was in, and the sharp, undisguised scent of animal droppings.

"Hey," a rough, male voice said, "are you alright?"

I brought a hand up to rub my eyes before opening them. The carriage interior was well-shaded, but the terrain I could see in the gaps between the wooden walls and the large balloon that allowed such a heavy load to be pulled by only two Chocobos was absolutely drenched in sunlight, causing me to squint.

"You were moanin' something fierce," the man said again. "Must be a reaction to the aether."

"Could be," I said. My voice was almost equally rough from what must have been a fairly long trip in the desert heat. "Shame. I was dreaming of a real beauty."

The older man with the leather-tanned skin and thin blonde beard sitting across the wagon to the right of me barked out a laugh. "Ha! Perhaps I should catch a nap and maybe see if she's still around!"

That got a twitch out of the corner of the mouth of one of the two other passengers: a pair of identically dressed, white-haired twin Elezen kids, who I already felt like I knew almost like family. "Of course Alisaie would be more into that kind of humor," I thought, noting the red cloth that she used to tie her long ponytail up with.

Before the conversation could even get properly started, two men rode their own chocobos up the road behind us, taking flanking positions on either side of the carriage. Their red clothes and metal masks concealing their eyes marked them as members of the Brass Blades mercenary company; common enough to spot anywhere in the vicinity of my destination on this trip: Ul'dah.

I allowed myself to get lost in thought for a moment as the carriage came to a halt. It really was just like being in the video game. Instead of pixels and vertices and text boxes, though, it was as real as I could remember Earth being. The smile began growing on my face, knowing that I could just let things progress as the game did, and I would coast along to victory without ever having to make a hard decision. Sure, I'd still do a lot of the heavy lifting as the Warrior of Light, but I wouldn't have to think.

"Now," I thought as an orange circle appeared in my vision, right in the center of the wagon. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"Get down!" I shouted, scooping my shield up off the bench beside me. In one smooth motion, I stood and whirled in the cramped quarters, interposing myself and the rough, lightweight planks of wood between the two white-haired kids and the arrow that came plunging through the gap between the wagon and the balloon above it. Although actually, 'arrow' was probably a misnomer in this case. Sure, it was arrow-shaped and it was fired from a bow, but that bow was made for a ten-foot tall lizard man that looked like it bench-pressed Volkswagens on a light day at the gym.

Naturally, the force behind the three-foot flying spear was probably enough to split trees, to say nothing of my rickety wooden shield. It punched right through the already cracked and splintered boards, and had more than enough energy left to slam my shield—and the tip of the offending projectile—directly into my right shoulder, and me down into the seat right next to Alphinaud, who promptly scrambled away from me like I was a particularly angry skunk.

For my part, I hissed in pain. The piercing fire in my right shoulder was unearthly, in that it was literally more painful than anything I had ever experienced in my previous life. "Nophica's sacred smallclothes that hurts!" I yelled as soon as I had the cognitive capacity to, careful to adjust my swearing to something more Eorzean. No need to open up that can of worms.

"Oh quit being a whiner," Alisaie said as I saw her walk around to my other side, unsteady since the wagon had begun to bounce and shimmy beneath us as the driver pushed our Chocobos faster. "Keep still as you can, alright?"

"Mm-hmm!" I grunted through clenched teeth. Not that I had much of a choice with my right shoulder injured and my left pinned to my body by my stuck shield.

The old man carefully stood up and took my previous seat. "How does it look?" he asked Alphinaud.

"Not particularly great, I'm afraid. It's not barbed, but the damn thing just barely started to tumble thanks to hitting his shield. He's loosing quite a bit of blood—sorry about your carpets. Alisaie, keep him calm while I heal him, will you? Wouldn't do to lose him to shock."

"Er, right," said the girl, who I knew for a fact was the worst person in the wagon to be saddled with this exact task. "Hi there, um, what's your name?"

And just like that, I had my in. I only wished it was a little less painful. "Alisaie? Alisaie Leveilleur?" I asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "that's my name. I asked for—wait, how do you know my name?"

"I heard all sorts of stories about your grandfather Louisoix from my mom. Man was a damn hero. Gone too soon, too, my condolences." She gave me a nod for that, but didn't say anything in return. I gingerly turned my head to the right, seeing a white glow begin to form around my shoulder. The pain immediately began to recede, being replaced by a cooling sensation. "So that must make you Alphinaud, then."

"Indeed it does. Now, hold on, this is going to feel rather… uncomfortable." With that, he gently began to lift my shield off of my chest.

He was right. While the pain had all but disappeared, I could still register the sensation of the egregiously-sized arrow being removed from my body, and more blood still escape the wound and begin oozing down my armpit. A few seconds of that, and I was able to let go of my shield, which Alisaie took and passed to the old man. As he set it against the bench, I could see that the inside was completely slick with my own red blood, the smell of which was beginning to overtake that of our trusty chocobos.

Alphinaud took a fortifying breath and continued to apply the healing magic to me. "That's better. Now I can at least see what I'm doing."

"We still don't have your name though," Alisaie reminded me from my left.

I took the opportunity to stop staring in fascination at the grotesque sight of my flesh repairing itself and turned back towards her. "I'm Vercin Ordannus. Splendid to meet you two, and thank you very much for the help."

"Thank you, actually," she replied. "That arrow looked like it was aimed for my dear brother, whose death would certainly cause a great deal of wailing and pining back at the Sharlayan Studium."

"Not to mention prove Father right when he said we'd be dead within a day if we went off on this trip alone," Alphinaud quipped. "On that topic, though, how exactly was it that you reacted to that shot so quickly? It even came from behind you, but you were shouting and in motion even before I heard the bowstring snap. It was like you knew it was coming."

"Uh, well," I stammered. "Funny how you should phrase it like that, because that sort of… happens from time to time." I saw the moment where the twins exchanged a look, and then it was gone. "Been happening since I was a kid in the brephotrophium."

"Brepho-what now?" said the old man, who had since relaxed his posture. Apparently our wagon was getting away from the attack without any signs of pursuit. He had since separated my shield from the arrow, which he had sitting across his lap.

"Brephotrophium," Alphinaud said. "It's a Garlean word for an orphanage."

The man scratched his beard and shook his head at that. "Seven hells, you're Garlean?"

"It's not that surprising. Ordannus is a fairly common Garlean name," said Alisaie. "But why is it behind the extremely Ishgardian sounding Vercin?"

"Mom—well, not biological—was an adventurer. Participated in a raid on Rabanastre before settling down with a guy from Ishgard. I was part of the retrieved loot, along with a few other kids who I never saw again. This was when I was really young. I have no memories of Rabanastre. Anyway, they gave me the name Vercin. It's supposed to mean 'great warrior,' but it looks like that's off to a rough start."

"Nonsense," said Alphinaud as he smacked me on the shoulder, right where I had just taken an arrow that wasn't exactly meant for him, but nobody else needed to know that. He stood up, then offered me his hand, which I took. He hauled me right up off the bench, my shoulder only giving me a slight ache like I had spent all of yesterday sweeping one-handed. "A little seasoning, and perhaps some sturdier equipment, and I'm sure we'll hear your name being shouted from the top of the Bloodsands."

I raised an eyebrow myself at that. "How did you know I was headed for the gladiatorial arena?"

"Simple," said Alisaie from behind me as she handed me my sword—a beaten, dull thing with only the barest suggestion of a cross brace—and my traveling pack, containing not a single item or gil to my name. "If I could see the attacks of my opponents coming, I'd go straight to the most popular arena on the continent to make my fortune, too."

Caught a little off guard, I simply smiled and shrugged. I actually hadn't been planning on taking a big interest in the arena, beyond learning how to fight as a gladiator, but that explanation was as plausible as anything I was going to tell them.

The excitement over with, it was barely any time before we turned south, and the great jewel of the desert greeted us. Ul'dah was truly a metropolis in a time where many people lived in huts. Of course, before we reached the main gate, we had to drive through a shanty town of people living in worse than that. Lean-tos where constructed where the cliff wall was flat enough to allow them, and tents were pitched everywhere. Most of the people I saw were Ala Mhigans, of mostly taller and stronger stock than many of the other Hyur around, though there were others. I knew that this was going to be the hardest part about starting in Ul'dah. Half the people here looked on at our wagon with some faint hope in their eyes that we might be carrying aid or alms, and turned away when they only saw a couple passengers and one more traveling merchant. Others didn't even bother looking up anymore.

It didn't just tug at my heart strings. It was almost like getting hit with another arrow. I took a fortifying breath, and tried to harden myself to the sight—at least a little—as I knew that there would likely be more and worse within the city walls. The carriage finally rolled to a halt, and three of the four of us disembarked.

"Vercin," said the old man, and I turned to face him. "I guess I never introduced myself. I'm Brendt, and I think I'll also be keeping a close eye on your career. I'm off to take this shipment down to Vesper Bay. You should look me up if you ever find yourself in the area. I might need a good sword hand at some point in the future."

He shook my hand, and in his calloused but firm grip, he palmed me a small copper ring with a blue jewel in it. "What's this?" I asked, staying discreet about slipping it onto my finger.

"For luck, of course. It's not worth very much, but a little bit of flare and sparkle goes a long way towards fitting in with the city folk. Also, go say hi to my friend Momodi in the Quicksand tavern. She'll get you set up with the one thing you'll need in Ul'dah: work."

I nodded and thanked him, then turned to the city gates, only to see Alphinaud and Alisaie waving their good-byes before disappearing into the crowd. And what a crowd it was! Sure, as a game, the streets were always busy (although not quite as busy as Limsa Lominsa), but it hit me full-force at that time that this was a far cry from what I had played. Damn near every race and culture and ethnicity was on display in the crowds, even some that you would never actually see here in-game. Most of the Beast Tribe races were barred from entry, but there were a few here and there that had fairly amicable relationships with the races of man that I could pick out in the crowd. A giant, blue Matanga carried a bundle of vibrantly dyed silks, keeping their eyes slightly down so as to not step on any unfortunate members of the waist-high Lalafells with his elephantine feet. I saw an Ananta woman deftly relieve a Brass Blade of his coin purse as he openly ogled her, transfixed by her serpentine beauty.

In short, it was one hell of an experience just walking across the street. Thankfully that was all I had to do, as my destination, the Quicksand, was very conveniently located right inside the main gate. Before I walked up the steps, I took a knee down by the public fountain just outside the tavern. I was expecting a murky mess, but the water flowed cool and clear and quick. A few wooden buckets sat on the ground nearby, and I grabbed one. My poor shirt that I wore used to be white, but now the right side was completely covered in my own blood, which was going to stain no matter what I did, but there was no use showing up to the Quicksand quite so 'fresh.'

I tipped the bucket into the fountain, filling it about half way, and removed my shirt. This was my first time actually looking at myself since I had died, and I was very pleased at the results. For once in my life (afterlife?) I had abs. I had fair skin that took the sun in stride, becoming a light bronze instead of a bright red, and as I ran my hand through my shoulder-length hair, I examined a length to see it colored like honey instead of like walnut wood. Using the water in the bucket as a mirror, I wasn't surprised to see my game character's face staring back at me, with his chiseled jawline and a scar running from the middle of his left cheek down and back. I traced the scar—my scar now—and the reality of my situation began to slowly seep in.

I noticed I was getting some attention from the locals, so I started washing my shirt as best as I could in the bucket. While this was the world of Ethyris, this was not a video game. The world around me would react to my actions instead of remaining largely static so that more players could come along and have the same experience. Gone were abilities that executed at the push of a button, and hit points, and levels. Events here would not wait for me to put the finishing touches on a tailored suit of armor before rushing to stop the next crisis, and things would absolutely happen with or without my involvement, so I had no idea if I could even follow the same path as the original story line.

Still, it wasn't going to be entirely terrible. I had negotiated a few convenience items with Venat, in the interests of making me as effective of a hero as I could be. Despite the oppressive temperature, I would never need to drink or eat. I could if I wanted to, and would magically never have to answer a call of nature again. I didn't need sleep, I didn't get sick, I didn't have allergies, and I didn't tire. Ever. From now on, rest was strictly for luxury, not necessity. Little things like blisters or paper cuts, or eyelashes falling into my eye were likewise a thing of the past. Clearly, I wasn't invincible, but it was basically cheating if I never took up a sword again.

The thought of just settling down and not going on a crazy quest to save the world occurred to me, but I dismissed it just as quickly. Let another version of me try to make it as a commoner in Ul'dah with no upkeep costs.

After a few minutes of vigorous scrubbing, most of the blood was out of my shirt, and it felt good to don the sopping wet cloth in this heat. Looking up at the sun, it was late morning at best, and I had adventures to start, and plans to set in motion.

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[Dastren]

I had learned a few things on my first day in Ul'dah. Specifically, I learned things from some of the animals that made the city outskirts their home. From the over-sized shrews, I learned that cornered animals were dangerous, no matter how ridiculous or harmless they looked. From the adorable marmots, I learned what it was like to kill something that meant you no harm whatsoever.

From the hornets the size of my head, I predictably learned abject terror.

I sat on a rock, panting and heaving as the sickly-sweet smell of gore and pollen washed over me from the remains of the final over-sized insect I had to slay. I wasn't actually tired. I wasn't even winded. I was just getting my heart to stop trying to blast its way out of my rib cage from the massive dose of adrenaline my body had decided to give me when I encountered something I already had a horrible phobia of, only dialed up to eleven. Fortunately for me, their hive must have been elsewhere, as the hormones released upon their deaths could have brought an entire swarm of them against me, and I would have found out if the special protections that Venat had given my body extended to heart attacks.

It had only been a few hours since I had met Momodi from the Quicksand and Mylla from the Gladiators' Guild. I had even run a few errands for the former, and this venture outside the city gates had been Mylla's test to make sure that the Gladiators wouldn't be taking on the training of a completely hopeless case. I was about to head back in to the city and report my success, when I saw a figure approaching me.

She had the short stature of a Lalafell, with the top of her head barely coming up to my belt line. She had a round and fair face, wide ears, a tiny nose, and shockingly green eyes. Wearing a threadbare pink and red robe and a pink turban, which her similarly pink hair fell out around the sides of her face framing it nicely.

She wasn't approaching me, I realized. I glanced behind me and saw that I had unwittingly picked a rock directly on the path from the city's southeast gate to its most famous nearby landmark, the Sultantree. "Ah," I thought, "that time already," as Sultana Nanamo Ul Namo, seventeenth of her line, and I took each others' measure.

She was in disguise, of course, as Lady Lilira, if memory served. I took my short sword and proceeded to wipe the bug guts off it in the sparse grass, then sheathed it, giving the young ruler of the nation a friendly wave before sitting back on the rock and leaning back on my hands. 'Lilira' didn't even halt her stride, but she did give me a not-impolite nod as she passed me by, clearly dismissing me as a threat. Of course, I was a threat, just not to her.

I knew what was supposed to happen next if this were truly a game. I would have to go speak to Momodi again, who would send me to the former captain of the Sultansworn royal guard Papashan over at the train station, who would send me on some inane errand or another as an excuse to check in with his soldiers before admitting he lost his young charge in the area and wanted help finding her. He would then send me directly to this tree where I would surprise the Sultana and make a new friend.

Seeing as this wasn't a game, though, I elected to not go back into town. If I did, I might actually miss the timing for what was supposed to happen next. So, I sat on my rock and waited, scanning the skies.

In total, I think it must have been less than five minutes before the ambush arrived. From the cover of one of the few-but-girthy desert trees, a figure ascended on black wings, and screeched a challenge as it took one look at me and went into a dive. I was up and armed in a flash, my feet braced against the aerial charge. "Voidsent!" I shouted in warning, not wanting the girl (and Ul'dah's precious figurehead of a leader) to come to harm. "Take cover, miss!"

At the last second, the foul creature tucked its legs in and threw its whole weight at me, leading with the wicked talons on its feet. I countered the charge by throwing my considerably greater weight behind my shield, and meeting it head-on. The impact, while certainly heavy, was nothing compared to the arrow I had taken in the shoulder. More importantly, the bolted-together collection of scrap wood I called a shield held fast.

The hideous, otherworldly being flapped its wings while gripped onto my shield, trying to rip it from my grasp. Fat chance of that. While we were roughly of a size, even voidsent critters from another realm had to do business with physics. Its waxy, dark gray skin was loose around its emaciated-looking body, and its limbs, while clawed, were reed-thin and gangly. Not only all that, but I had a feeling its bones were hollow. As it fought against me, it felt like it was far less dense than its size suggested.

Using my size to my advantage, I raised my shield high, and then brought it down with all my might, like I was going to use it to crush an empty soda can. Hollow bones or not, I don't think I broke anything on my flying foe besides his grip. I did, however, stun him for a second, which was all the opening I needed.

I swung my sword from my shoulder to my hip, removing one of the voidsent's legs. Instantly, the limb and the stump where it was attached to began spraying not blood, but a foul-looking black mist. Walking through it made the parts of my skin that touched it feel like I had the chills from a bad fever, but I strode right through and removed its other leg with ruthless efficiency.

Robbed of its leverage and losing its horded aether, my enemy tried desperately to stave off my sword's final plunge into its torso with its weak front arms, succeeding only in giving me a few scratches. With a twist of my blade, the glowing yellow eyes situated in its lizard-like face below a pair of short horns died out, and the whole body dispersed into black mist.

I quickly scanned all my surroundings, and was glad I did. This punk had friends, and they were none-too-happy that I had taken down what was clearly their leader. All six of them were smaller than the first, but just as ugly.

Then, something happened to me that had never been a part of the game. Just like the arrow that I had intercepted in the wagon, I saw hazy, orange outlines appear around every one of the minor demons. The outlines moved just a few moments before they did, and I understood! The Echo wasn't just showing me where not to stand in case of a major hit. It was showing me everything my enemies were going to do!

The outline of the creature second from the left soared by me from left to right, cutting just in front of me, and raking with its rear talons in a hit-and-run maneuver. Then, the real one performed the exact same action. I waited until it was committed to the dive, then lunged backwards out of the way. As I was in midair, I chopped my sword in a wicked backhand motion. The dull iron was still enough to carve into its body. It didn't bisect the thing as I had intended, but it bit deep enough into its back to sever its spine, and the resulting spray of dark aether forced my blade out instead of allowing it to be stuck.

Confidence bloomed inside me as I saw the goddess' gift in action, and I rushed the remaining five enemies with a wordless challenge. I was training to be a Gladiator. That meant making myself into the biggest, most threatening target on the battlefield. Five-on-one would probably have been long odds for even experienced fighters. The Echo didn't trivialize what came next, but it certainly did even those odds up more than a little bit. The sickly-looking voidsent approached me in pairs, which would have proven effective to someone who couldn't read them like books with seventy-two point font. Arms, wings, and even heads were systematically removed by my glorified iron club, each with an accompanying spray of black following it.

That's not to say I got through unscathed. While I could see the attacks coming, that didn't always translate into being able to do anything about them. My poor shirt, already stained with my own blood, got a second serving of it, along with plenty of cuts and tears. The wounds were initially painful, and then immediately felt weirdly numb and instantly began to ache like they were sorely infected. Fortunately, each scratch and scrape was in itself a minor issue, and I did not allow them to build up too much. Despite my unflagging stamina, I could feel my movements slowing down and becoming less effective every time the fleshy mechanisms that moved my body were damaged.

Eventually, the final enemy was felled, and the furious dance of battle was over with. I wiped the sweat from my brow, painting it with a thin red line in the process, then sheathed my sword, strapped my shield onto my back, and made for the base of the Sultantree.

As I did, I spotted something glinting at me from on top of the rock I was resting on: a small, blue crystal point, not even as large as my hand. I smiled at the sight. I had almost forgotten the crystals of light. Over the course of my journey, I would eventually collect (and then re-collect) one for each of the six elements. I quietly picked the stone up, finding that it was positively thrumming with power that calmed at my touch. While in the game this would have triggered a vision with me meeting Venat in her guise as Hydaelyn, I had already done that, so I just quietly slipped it into my pocket.

I broke into a short jog until I reached the gnarled roots of the tree, then stopped. "Miss?" I asked, not giving away any indication that I knew who the girl really was. "You can come out now, the danger is passed."

There was a quiet grunt and scrape of loose dirt as a pink turban rose into view from behind a large root, followed by its owner. Her short legs carried her towards me, and I knelt to get down on her eye level as she scanned the perimeter.

"They're gone? I saw you claim victory, but is that all there were?"

I had to remember that I was talking to a true dignitary, and not a child. "All that I saw coming this way, at least. Still, you're right, a lack of caution wouldn't do. You're unharmed?"

"I am," 'Lilira' said, finally taking in the sight of me. "Gods above, though, look at you! I ought to be asking you that same question!" She was clearly not very skilled at disguise. Her accent was entirely too posh for someone dressed as lowborn as she was.

"Ha!" I barked out a slightly dour laugh as I stood up, aching all over. "If you can believe it, this isn't even the worst I've gotten today. I'm sure a bath and some bandages will do me some good, but otherwise I'm fine."

She immediately shook her head at me. "Absolutely not. If those were true voidsent, those wounds will fester until your death. I have half a mind to–" Both of us heard a footstep behind me, and the disguised Sultana broke off her admonition to demand, "Show yourself!" to whomever was skulking about.

For my part, I whirled despite my sore body, unsheathing my sword and readying my shield as fast as I could.

"Well," said a young but white-haired man in a simple, black tunic. "If you're going to draw on me in defense of her, then I suppose you're more an adventurer and much less a bandit. That's a good thing. Otherwise we would quarrel, and you don't look like you're going to be much of a challenge." Despite his rather bland garb, he did have a couple things that made him easily recognizable. For one, he had a device on his shoulder that I knew to be an aetherscope. He also had a deep purple, runic tattoo on the sides of his neck.

I scoffed. "Bandit? Does this blade look like it's made of brass to you?" I gestured at the man with my sword before sheathing it.

The Sultana openly giggled at that, then put her hands on her hips and scolded the newcomer. "Thancred Waters, perhaps it would be more polite of you to thank our new friend here for doing your job and saving my life."

Absolutely fearless of the petite leader of an entire nation, Thancred fired back, "A job that is eminently more difficult to do when you decide to run off alone, telling nobody where you're going, and leave your entire staff of protectors scrambling all over the city and desert searching for you, your impetuousness."

Thancred's verbal attack must have missed the mark entirely, as his sparring partner turned her stern gaze on me next. "And you ought to keep your entirely valid opinions about the Brass Blades and their leash-holder Lord Lolorito to yourself when in mixed company, mister…"

"Vercin Ordannus, milady." I gave her a deep bow; not one used for casual niceties. I introduced myself as I would to a head of state, only changing the title I addressed her as from the traditional 'your grace.' Then, as she looked up at me with realization in her eyes, I gave her a knowing wink, to let her know her secret was safe with me.

Thancred ran a hand through the short hair on the back of his head. "Come along, lady Lilira. We ought to let Papashan know you're alright."

Seeing an opportunity to exert a bit of subtle control over the situation, I asked, "Would there be any objection to my tagging along? I could pretend to be assisting your assistant here, while he's actually escorting the both of us. He's not wrong about me wearing a bit thin in the durability department, after all."

The Sultana nodded once, and Thancred led us from the Sultantree down to the tracks of Ul'dah's very own cargo train, designed to carry precious ore and Ceruleum into the city from the northern mines. I took up the rear and listened to the two trade playful barbs and banter the whole way. It was clear that the two were more than employer and employee to each other, and if I weren't currently covered in claw wounds it would have been a downright pleasant stroll.

I followed the two because I wanted to be absolutely certain that the Sultansworn knew of my involvement in the situation, and more specifically which side I was on during it. The last thing I needed was to have my contributions swept under the rug or worse. Without being there to be confirmed as the rescuer-in-chief, it might have been possible for someone unsavory to decide that the authorities having the wrong idea about me was good for business. And Ul'dah was all about business.

---

I saw the orange glow of the attack coming right at me, but it was far too late to do a damn thing about it. The dinged and blunted edge of Mylla's practice shield crashed directly into the bridge of my nose with a wet crunch, and that was hardly all. The force of the shield bash actually lifted me clean off my feet, and I landed in a heap with the sensation of someone trying to drive a hot nail through the center of my face. I doubted I could actually have seen anything but stars swimming through my vision properly, even if my eyes were not covered in my own blood.

"Man down!" I heard one of the other Gladiator trainees shout from the edge of the arena as a chorus of laughs and jeers were sent in my general direction.

Like hell I was going to take that lying down… assuming I could work myself into any other position. I had kept hold of my practice sword, which was good, although I had no idea if I would have actually cut myself open with it in my landing, since it was made of blunt wood. I rolled myself over onto my stomach as fast as my shaking limbs would allow, and pushed myself off the ground. I stabbed my sword into the sands and used it for support as I tried to haul myself back to my feet, and opened one blood-caked eye… just in time to see my opponent land a kick right to my bread basket.

The breath I had managed to claw back while I was down rushed out of me all at once. I'm pretty sure if I had needed to eat over the course of the day, that would have been the time my lunch would have picked to go on vacation.

"Easy, rookie," came the gruff voice of the Gladiator guild's master as she tossed her sword and shield down and rolled me onto my side. "You made your point, but a loss is a loss. Take it with some grace."

I gave Mylla a grunt, as it was about all I was capable of vocalizing at the moment. She sighed, and I felt the sensation of warm water being poured over my face. I sputtered, but realized there was no actual water there. "The hell?" I asked, confused, before the pain in my nose dulled, and I could feel the bones start to set and mend, and the cartilage knit back together. Opening one eye, I had to squint against the bright light that was held in front of me like a naked bulb, but behind it I saw Mylla. "You're… a Paladin?" I asked. Nowhere in the game I had played did it mention anything about Mylla being a former Sultansworn.

"Don't be an idiot. You think if I was one of those fancy-pants bodyguards for the Sultana, I would be down here training you lot instead of rubbing shoulders with some bloke worth my house a dozen times over? Nothing but a spot of white magic, rookie, now hold still."

I did as she asked and closed my eyes again, but was still confused. "But… you're not a Conjurer. You're a Gladiator. How are you casting healing magic?" Offhand, I also recognized the difference between her healing and Alphinaud's. It must have been because this was conjury, whereas his was arcanima.

I could hear the wry smile in her voice as she said, "Boy, I must have hit you harder than I thought. Anybody can pick up a spell or two here an' there. Nobody is locked in to one school of combat. In fact, if you can get your hands on a Soul Crystal, you can change your fighting style faster than you can change your smallclothes. Anything you learn without one of those fancy things though, you keep an' you use however you like. Damned glad I did pick up some basic healing skills from a Conjurer, too! You would have been floored by the amount of gil I was spending on healing potions just for everyday training!"

Eventually, the sensation faded, and I opened my eyes to see the strong, confident face of the woman teaching me everything I needed to know about swordplay; how to dish hits out, and especially how to take them. She was dressed in actual armor as opposed to my increasingly-ragged traveling clothes, had a strong brow, long blonde hair, and an aquiline nose. I had to look up at her, because she stood half a head taller than I did, and was most certainly built like a whole row of brick houses.

Of course, this was Ethyris, and physical strength alone was not enough to propel one to victory, even in contests of brute force. Every being was possessed of aether within their bodies that could be manipulated to great effect. Not only magic that took place outside the body, but also the enhancement of the user's physical body itself. While being bigger and stronger would definitely have its advantages (and I was definitely going to go on a workout routine), my real path to victory over opponents like Mylla was going to be through learning how to enhance my body better using my own aether.

She looked into my eyes, and not in a romantic way. "Well, it doesn't look like you have a concussion. At least, not anymore you don't." With that, she picked up her gear, and set it off the arena floor while jerking her head to indicate I should do the same. The moment we were off, four more trainees leapt at the chance to get some more sparring in. "You've got good instincts, Vercin, an' a pretty uncanny read on your opponents. That's frankly weird, actually. Most folks who come through here practice and learn for months and years before they reach that kind of level."

"Thanks," I said, sheepishly.

"That being said, you need a lot of work. You know when to move, an' most of the time where to move to. What I'll be teaching you is why you move, an' how to do it in a way that doesn't give opponents an opening like the one I exploited." With that, she reached behind the guild desk, and fished out a small washcloth, tossing it at me. "Stick around, an' maybe I can keep you from looking like shit every time you get into a fight."

I caught the cloth and scrubbed my face with it. "Yeah, but you made that opening in the first place!"

"Did I?" Mylla smirked as she teased me shamelessly. "Maybe I ought to teach you how to avoid falling prey to that, too. Or even how to do it yourself."

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