On Wings of Silver :: 01
I have been so long abroad helping in Akela Springs, then going out to Tural to collect the remnants of The Silverwing that returning to Eorzea. That, in itself, was quite a journey and I was glad to have Archambaut Vremaix with me when I made it. Facing Esmeralda’s death on my own would have been far more difficult without his strength at my side. Taking over her ship, smoothing things out with the crew, filling in the roles left behind by the crew that left — it’s been quite an adventure in taking over The Silverwing in Esmeralda’s wake. I’ve been away from the sea for so long that it’s taken me some time to find my sea-legs again.
My return to Eorzea was without much fanfare. With the Seventh Chantry disbanded, its properties nigh abandoned, I haven’t really had it in me to redecorate, to move on, though I know I must. Valeria has taken herself into the wider world, perhaps to experience a world of renewed color and to learn what it is like to live a life all her own, instead of through the lens of someone else. Still, I will forever miss my little sister, no matter how far she roams.
Imagine my surprise to find Zerey Zeyad darkening the doorstep of the forlorn Company Estate, but we adjourned to a secluded area so that he might tell me of all that’s been going on with him since last I saw him, so many moons ago. It seems that he continues to be on the run from the Hashima family, the very family that he is the heir apparent for, according to his uncle. Both the Hashima and their ancestral enemies, the Masaki, have been hunting Zerey for some time. He took the time to introduce me to a young woman, Olivier, I think her name was that’s been helping him keep out of both family’s clutches. He’s still uncertain what he wishes to do, whether he wants to fight for the Hashima, or leave them to their fate. I cannot blame him. His loyalty remains with his brother, but the rest of the Hashima with the exception of his uncle, have treated him with naught but disdain and hatred.
With The Silverwing in drydock at Moraby Bay, getting further repairs and getting re-outfitted as befits her proper. I’ve spent much time in U’ldah as a result, revisiting the city of my birth, even though my parents no longer reside there. There is something about it that will always be comforting and familiar.
A visit to The Bloodsands outside the Gates of Thal chanced me to come upon the enigmatic Yumarox Revanche, the looming guardian of that dusty patch of crossroad. Yet, it is unlike Yumarox to involve himself in the minor squabbling that happen on the sand, looking on only to ensure that it doesn’t spill over into the spectators and innocent bystanders. A woman was nearly killed by a xaela woman who was apparently biting — and attempting to eat — her opponents.
While I was trying to garner the gist of what had gone on, I spoke with a young Limsan miqo’te by name of Jack Nasty-face. Despite his ill-repute-seeming name, he was quite genteel and it was clear that he was quite concerned for a friend of his that had gone missing during the fracas, a young xaela woman named Nadia Vellen. Though, I note here, that she was not the same xaela woman that was attempting to eat her opponents. Nay, in fact, this Nadia was one of that other xaela’s victims.
According to Jack, Nadia had been taken off by a healer as others tried to ameliorate the battle that had spilled over into the crowd, which is why Yumarox had gotten involved to begin with. I did my best to comfort young Jack, advising him to ask after Nadia at the Phrontistery in Ul’dah. He said that the healer that had been with Nadia mentioned something about an office in the Goblet, but that was unfortunately like looking for a needle in a haystack. I advised him to keep a level head and to try not to worry overmuch, that he would likely find her in a day or two once she could get word to him. Still, I offered to help him by keeping my own eyes and ears peeled for news of Nadia and that, in future, if they needed a healer they were welcome to call on me.
Before I left the Bloodsands, I got into a curious “debate” with a young woman who never introduced herself, a young miqo’te woman who claimed to be from a place called Alexandria. She was a vehement pacifist, believing that peace and prosperity can be found without killing or hurting anyone. While I do not have a bloodthirsty nature and believe in the power of Diplomacy, I full well realize that you reach a point where peace and prosperity are impossible to achieve unless one is willing to fight — die — and kill for it. This miqo’te woman seemed to take offense to my ideals, contemptuous even, which I took with grace and aplomb. I do not expect to change someone’s mind or views in a single conversation, if ever. As a Cleric of Thaliak, my duty is solely to share my knowledge with others. What they choose to do with it is their own decision.
Not long after I parted that conversation, the miqo’te woman caught up to me in the Gold Court and left a curious silver necklace with a purple, levin-infused crystal attached to it. I’m not sure why she left it, but I have already taken it to the Ossuary to ensure that it isn’t cursed or otherwise capable of doing me harm — it’s perfectly safe. The real question is why she would leave such an expensive and seemingly precious item behind, with me, no less?
A day or two beyond that curious encounter, I overheard a man going over a number of mission briefings that he was carrying. They all sounded like particularly difficult assignments: gangs of raiders assailing merchant caravans as they crossed Thanalan, rashes of kidnappings occurring in Stone’s Throw and Pearl Lane. The man, one Barid’bel Warden, accepted my offer of aid as a healer when I gave it, saying that his Company occasionally had need of a battle-trained healer. He spoke of the assignment concerning the kidnappings and we adjourned to his Company offices so that I could receive a full briefing on the matter — one did not discuss such things openly in the middle of the Quicksand, after all.
While I won’t write the gist of what was discussed here for security’s sake, I will say that it’s curious that the Ossuary has been trying to obfuscate this investigation. I gave Barid’bel the advice that he should look into the individual stories of the victims, to look for commonality in more than what’s just been done to them. The Hell of Ice is where cowards, deserters, and adulterers are sent. Perhaps these cultists are looking to convert such sinners to their version of “Menphina’s Love”. It seems in keeping with their motivation thusfar.
Somewhere in our discussions, he suggested speaking with his sister who is a prominent member of the Ossuary who might be able to obtain the information that the Ossuary was trying to hide. However, she seems to have a grudge against him for a mishap concerning the line of inheritance of their shared familial estate. Twelvesakes, listening to some of the convoluted messes people make of their own families makes me so very glad that I had a relatively benign familial experience. My parents are kindly, calm, steady blacksmiths and crafters who love and care for me as their daughter like any parents should. There’s no drama, no malignancy, no mayhem within our family tree. Only good solid roots and branches reaching higher than the Sultantree.
Barid’bel offered me the use of the library on his familial estate, though I’ve yet to find any personal library that can really rival what can be found in the Noumenon or the Great Gubal Library. Still, there are occasional uncatalogued nuggets of knowledge to be found in such wayward, small libraries. Not all knowledge in the world has been cloistered within Sharlayan’s gatekeeping.
I think that just about has this journal all caught up for now. It is long past time I sought my rest, lest a raven-haired knight come to throw me over a shoulder and carry me to bed.
