17th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

I don’t remember La Noscea being this humid. It was always sort of… blustery. All those high bluffs, with no tree cover to break up the rolling winds. The salty sea air always brought out the wandering spirit in me. Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t stay in Limsa very long this time. That and, of course, the lack of available work.

The longer I go without a job, the more I can feel the allure of the sword at my hip. I keep getting it out while I wander and swinging it around, practicing the forms. It’s been so long since I fought without a shield though; and I feel somewhat naked. I feel like I need something else in my other hand. Another weapon, maybe? Maybe I could invest in a larger sword, but that would reduce some of my flexibility and speed. Not that I really want to fight anything these days. I keep reiterating that to people these days, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s more to convince myself than to convince them.

There’s been a lot of that though, reiterating. I’ve had lots of meetings with people that I wasn’t plan on. I only really spoke with Keisuna once back before the Calamity, but she asked for me over the pearl. Me specifically. I felt odd, and it was so out of the blue that it managed to pique my curiosity. She surprised me with her verbal sparring. I got the sense for a while that we were both dancing around some kind of deeper subject, trying to one-up each other in a delightful game of one-upmanship. I didn’t feel like either of us had an edge though, and I rather enjoyed myself. If she’s well, I’ll probably see if she’s down for more sometime. With less pretense. Of course, there’s always the chance I pulled the subject out of my arse, but there were too many coincidences lining up for me to ignore. Her son on the other hand, seems a little squeamish. Bookish. Reminds me of myself when I was younger before I was married. We’ve agreed to tea this week but I have a nagging suspicion that it’s going to fall through.

R’zhumii hasn’t been much better either. Another “innocent meeting” with a motive behind it. She seems to think that I’m still holding a torch for Eufrasi. While I’d admit in the privacy of these pages that I’m dying for a good shag, I don’t think that trying to rekindle any sort of romance with him is a good idea. Apparently he’s got some baggage, and if he comes with R’zhumii in tow then I would rather stay celibate. Bitch had the audacity to give me gil, but hidden inside a larger bag. I didn’t realize what had happened until she’d gone.

I do miss the comfort of a man in my bed. Turk has disappeared off again, without a word to anyone, and Fenix seems to be completely disinterested. I’m terrible at dropping hints, but even the ones that lack subtlety he seems to miss. I gave him a bloody kiss the other day and he barely batted an eyelash. I need to meet someone, I think. Something casual, I wouldn’t even turn down. But release is important and the last time I had that was with a woman. And who knows where Blueboats is now.

*there is a break in the writing. A small gap, and it continues. It is obviously written at a later time*

Apparently I wasn’t living in the Shroud this whole time after all. I took the other way around to Wineport this time, since I was called away the other day and had to make the trip back. I stumbled into a place that the map called ‘Raincatcher Gulley’. It is the forest. THE forest. That’s where I was the entire time after Cartenau. I had no idea. Apparently I’ve been assuming this whole time that I was still in the Shroud because no forest like this was around then, but here it is. I was in it. I recognize the plant life, and the climes were right, and some of the rock features were right. It’s not a coincidence, and I should have realized much sooner that no place in the Shroud would have that kind of humidity and support that kind of plant life. Wineport is so close, I think I’ll go back some sun. Try and find my old camp. Dig up what I buried.

I think Aysun is coming out for a visit. I’m going to go down to the front desk and buy a bottle of wine. Nasty stuff, but there’s hell-all else to drink around here.

13th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

My feet hurt. All that walking back and forth from the Bazaar last night really took its toll. I think there was a rock in my boot last night. These low quality materials can’t keep out the elements. They’ll probably be my first purchase. I hopped the ferry from the Silver Bazaar up to Horizon. It’s different here, too. But I didn’t have much of a chance to explore because the ship to Limsa Lominsa was arriving. So I’m on that now. Ocean is clean and beautiful, like I remember.

Fenix was gone this morning. I’m pretty sure I may have overstepped my bounds, but it felt good to be close to someone for once. I gave Aysun that hug, but for the most part, all my interactions have been at a distance. Arms length. I hope he just had things to do this morning, but he was gone. He has been nothing but kind. He told me a little bit, about his past, but I pulled back and stopped prying. Managed to avoid telling him anything of interest about myself, so that’s good.

I don’t know why I trust him, other than because Aysun told me I can. I suppose that’s good enough for me. I trust her implicitly. I heard her yesterday over the pearl for the first time in suns, but I had to tell her to stop antagonizing people as opposed to wishing her well. She’s in Limsa, according to her, and I’ll be there soon. Maybe I can track her down and talk to her soon.

I am worried though, about Crystalline as an entity. It seems like most every day someone ends up arguing with someone. I know we can’t all be friends, but the rate at which these individuals go for the throat is disturbing. I can’t remember the last time I’ve bit my tongue this much. I hear everything they say, but it isn’t my place to police them. Tell them when they’re acting the fools. This whole business with Flandre, it made me want to punch things.

Come after me all you want. But Eva being pulled into this, that I simply cannot abide. Delaying my trip and making me walk were secondary irritants.

I have my own problems to worry about on the side. I only have maybe two or three more aetheryte trips worth of gil that Eva loaned me before I’m stuck wherever I am. I have to plan it carefully, and walk as much as possible like last night.

My poor feet.

But again, Fenix. There’s someth

*writing ends abruptly*

12th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

The dumb bastards didn’t want me. I keep trying to convince myself that it’s their loss, but rejection still stings, just like it always have and like it always will. That’s a part of life, I suppose. I’m just not used to being on the receiving end. I wonder if this is how all those men felt. Only worse, I suppose. Heartache hurts more than being turned down for a job. I think.

It’s different out here. I couldn’t take being cramped up inside that hot, smelly city any longer. I’m beneath something that one of the Brass Blades called the Sultantree. I don’t remember the desert being so green. I mostly remember brown. And rock. Fenix’s house is near the Gate of Thal, so I just made a beeline for it.

Desert air smells nice.

I feel free suddenly. There’s nothing keeping me here in Ul’Dah anymore. I can go out on my own now and defend myself. Staying with Fenix has been convenient, but I feel that I’ve already started to wear out my welcome. I’ve barely even seen him since I got here, but I still feel like an intruder. Too much freedom in there, almost as if I’d broken in.

I don’t feel very alone anymore. The first few days were excruciating, but for the past several suns I’ve been surprisingly busy. I’ve tried to get out a little every day, and I’ve seen people. Eva stayed for a few bells when she came to remove the cast yesterday, and we talked. And we had a conversation that was long overdue.

When I first arrived at the Watch, I spent a lot of time in awe of Eva. She was this untouchable entity. Quiet and understanding. She always seemed to have all the right words. Even when we were both Archontes, and supposedly on the same level, she was over me. Up until the very end, when it seemed like we were starting to reach some kind of understanding. It was only around then that I started to really consider her a friend. I’m glad to know that hasn’t gone anywhere.

I feel like I have to force myself to act naturally, even though I’m terrified. I’m still reeling from culture shock. Everywhere I turned something is different and people have changed, so I remind myself that I need to hold myself together. It’s hard. But when I talked with Eva it all came back like nothing had changed.

It felt good to open up to someone. Aysun hasn’t been the most receptive what little I’ve seen her, and that worries me, but Eva is a lot like her usual self. She’s more forward, though, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. The older Eva never asked me questions. We would both sort of dance around subjects. I’m sure we both knew what the other was saying, but it’s much faster this way. I like it.

I want things with Aysun to get back to the way that they were. I worry about her. I remember when the two of us used to talk like the way Eva and I did. It makes me wonder if some day I’ll ever tell Eva about my time before the Watch. Things I’ve only ever told Aysun.

I didn’t have the courage to ask her about Jzhoshief or Aatrix, though. I know she’s talked with them, she said as much. It was a rude awakening, to be certain. Maybe next time.

The plan is still to go to Limsa tomorrow. Pack up my one possession and leave a note for Fenix. I’m taking this sword though. I’ll pay him back. I’ve been frugal with the gil Eva lent me, and I think it’s enough to get a ride to Limsa. I’m not coming back. Not for a long time.

I think Tysien’s men are still out there, though. I need to be careful, and leave quietly.

8th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

It’s been several days now, and I still haven’t left the city gates. I keep tapping my boots against the floor, growing impatient. I feel trapped, both by these walls and by this cast, although I suppose that here above the forge is the safest place I could possibly be right now.

According to Aysun, Tysien’s brainwashed buffoons are still out there. The cavalcade of bad news seems to rival the good news. I wonder how long they kept searching for me after Cartenau. Did they follow me out there? Did a few of them die, perhaps trying to take me down in the swarm of bodies? I told Aysun that the last time I’d seen one of them was at that gala, blending in among all those gathered. That was five years ago. What have they been doing all this time? I know they’d already devolved into a petty but successful band of brigands. A far cry from their former glory, but still dangerous nonetheless.

She made me promise not to run out alone this time. No heroics. I didn’t explicitly agree.

The liquor was nice though, cheap as it may have been. Two nights in a row now I’ve been able to enjoy myself, and been surprised at how well my tolerances have kept up. There’s still a little bit left from last night; I’ll probably finish it today sometime.

I feel like I’m losing track of time again. It’s been almost a week now since I woke up in the Fane, and I’ve spent all of it here in this house. Fenix lives on a busy street, and I’m uncomfortable walking out there in my current state. The sooner R’zhumii can help me get this cast off, the better. I’ll probably ‘borrow’ one of the blades downstairs, much like I’m borrowing the small knife in my satchel. Maybe someday I’ll even pay him for them.

Boredom has turned into outright snooping. I’ve picked through more than half the books on his shelf. There isn’t really all that much that interests me; I’m not that knowledgeable about aether or science. I’ll leave that kind of thing to Syesta. I tried to read one, but I just couldn’t sit still long enough. I need to MOVE.

I want to swing a sword.

I want to see things with my own eyes.

I want to find out what happened here.

I want.

6th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

It feels strange, to hold a quill again in my hand and write. It’s been so long; so long since I’ve even had to communicate in words to another living being, it almost feels like a gift. One thing that living in the wilderness taught me was how precious these things we take for granted are.

I ventured out of this apartment today for the first time. I figured Ul’Dah was the place to get my bearings, since Aysun said it hadn’t been ‘hit’. She was right; for the most part it was the same. Small changes here and there. All the shops were different, there were new buildings, but the crowds were the same. Aysun left me some clothes that fit, and I raided Fenix’s house for food and provisions. I traded a merchant some fruit for this small journal. Nothing fancy, just paper in a binding. But it is mine. This and the clothes on my back are literally the only things to my name.

I’d given up writing journals. I was always so worried, before, that someone might find them and learn things that I did not wish them to learn. I burned the last two, but I felt that I needed to start one again. I didn’t retain much from my time with Makar, but one thing was his passion for note-taking. He always said that writing was the best way to organize one’s thoughts, and in times like these, that is what I need most.

I’m still getting used to this entire situation. One moment I was on the brink of death in the Shroud, the next thing I know I’m waking up next to Aysun – a woman I had given up for dead. Crushed by Dalamud. They threw a blitz of information at me; about time travel and a changing of the world, but it still seems so unreal. I didn’t get much time to dwell on it before I was out in it, in that wilderness. Everthing was different. I hardly recognized the Shroud.

I wonder if immersion really was the best way to go about it. I’m used to change; adaptation has always been one of my stronger suits. Maybe Aysun knew that, which is why she didn’t have a problem with it. But I imagine suddenly seeing your entire world /changed/ would exact quite a toll on some people. It was still a shock to the system, despite being prepared. I dealt with it like I deal with most things; carrying on like it was ‘business as usual’. I was in a blind panic on the inside though. Maybe something snapped.

I shocked myself at how quickly I fell back into my old ways on the ride to Ul’Dah. The way Aysun and I talked and bantered like nothing had ever changed. I think when I was out there, alone, most of my fake conversations were with her. Some were with Eva, and a few of the others, but when I pretended to not be so desperately, soul-crushingly alone, hers was the voice I remembered best. Maybe it was habit to just talk to her like that; I don’t know. But she seems different. Quieter, less apt to jokes. She let the new one, Fenix, do most of the talking. It’s almost as if she’s afraid of something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I haven’t seen her since the first night. I wonder if everything is okay.

But yes, Fenix. He’s just one of the many new faces. Most of them are still just voices to me, but his has a face. He is Aysun’s friend. She trusts him; told me point blank to my face that he was worthy of it. I don’t really trust /anyone/ completely, but Aysun vouching is good enough for me. He makes good soup, which can only be a plus. I didn’t talk to him much, but he’s letting a complete stranger stay in his house for free, so he can’t be all that bad. I haven’t seen him since, either.

I stayed inside yesterday, after sleeping until midday. I wasn’t ready to go out. I wanted to sit and focus and try to gather myself. I did poke around the house though. I was going to read something off Fenix’s bookshelf, but a small bound book caught my eye. It had pages missing, and it turned out to be his private journal. I wish I could say that I thought twice about reading it, but I will not try to fool myself. I slid it out and read it, right there in the hallway. I needed to know I could trust him, and knowledge is power. There wasn’t much to read, but there are a few things I saw that raised some questions maybe he will volunteer answers for on his own without any gentle prodding. Beyong that though, he seems a good sort, from what I have read, and what I have heard over the pearl.

Eva did give me a pearl. A replacement one for Crystalline, and a personal one as well. I listened to it for almost two days; the whole ride to Ul’Dah, and all day yesterday. The people are different. There are lots of voices I don’t recognize, but I paid close attention to their conversations, and I can attach names to sounds now. Young people and old people alike. I’ve already started forming some opinions. I’d rather observe them for hiding for a tad bit longer. Any upper hand is a good hand.

I did talk with Eva about them though. Some of the things they were talking about surprised me. Conversations that would have never occurred over a pearl in Everwatch. Some crassness that I’m surprised Eva tolerated for as long as she did. She always was a stickler for that; I did a good job of curbing my tongue in front of her there at the end.

I just realized my choice of words there. What a depressing way to think.

Not only am I alive though, I am alive and well. That is the most surprising thing. I was rarely ‘well’ when I was out in the wilderness; always hungry, always sore, always uncomfortable and afraid. Lonely. Possibly losing my sanity. Even before that, perhaps, was I ever well? A runaway, a killer, trying to recover from a downward spiral into depression only to rise up and see a great moon sinking to send me back down. Wellness can’t be found at the bottom of a bottle or deep in a cave.

Despite this looming sense of dread at facing that strange, unfamiliar world outside these drawn curtains, I feel hopeful. If I can somehow survive a moon, I can survive anything. I’ve stopped counting the number of times that I’ve cheated death at this point, but it is not an insignificant number. Maybe one of the Twelve is up there looking out for me. Or maybe it’s just luck.

My only problem right now is trying to figure out ‘what next’. Perhaps I’ll start speaking on the pearl soon. Talking to people; trying to get an idea of what they are doing with their lives. I spent so long before thinking that I wouldn’t be able to do anything else that I ended up not doing anything at all, and frittered away what easily could have been the last days of my life on fruitless pursuits. My pursuit of fruit in the wilderness at least had a purpose.

I think my first step will be to try and get a sense of Eorzea on a larger scale. Perhaps I’ll see if Fenix or Aysun can loan me a small amount of gil and I can purchase a few papers. Read up on things, get a handle on current events. Yes, reading is the answer. Reading is almost always the answer. Much like listening, learning to stop and take things in as opposed to constantly expelling is the key to wisdom. It’s a lesson a few of those new voices on the pearl could do to learn before it’s too late.

I just re-read what I have written here. More than I expected, to be honest. But it doesn’t feel censored. I used to try and lie to myself; omit things I didn’t want to remember. Make myself feel better. Too bad that would have defeated the point of the exercise. I was worried that these ramblings would feel rushed and unfocused, but they seem to flow rather well. Glad to know I haven’t lost that touch either.

I think I’m going to try and talk on the pearl now.

It’s All In The Name

((This story is about Aatrix Makar, Selene’s former husband.  They were divorced for about 7 years before Dalamud struck.  This story takes place about 3 years after the Calamity.))

*     *     *     *     *

“FUCK!”

The wineglass crashed into the wall as a sheaf of papers slid to the floor. Aatrix slammed a fist down onto the table. There wasn’t anything left to see. The trail was cold.

Pippin sighed, busying himself cleaning up the shards of the broken wineglass, damping at the hardwood floors with a cloth just in case. Aatrix had already emptied it out, but it never hurt to be careful. These floors were hard enough to keep clean.
Aatrix slumped violently into his plush chair, pushing his glasses up his nose. His hair had long since broken free of its ponytail, strands shooting off into the air. He tapped his temple, staring at the map pinned to the wall of the study.

Pippin had started referring to this place as the “Hunt Room”. It was not a term he used with endearment. In fact he almost spat it out every time he had to say it. Aatrix didn’t seem to mind. Deep down he felt that it was appropriate, but he would never admit it.

The Hunt Room was a place in the house that served one purpose, and it was laid out with that in mind. The specially constructed room was shaped like a pentagon. Two meeting walls on the opposite sides of the door were dedicated to two giant maps each; one of La Noscea, and the other of the mainland. One wall was from before the Calamity, and the wall on the right was Eorzea as it was today. The chair Aatrix currently occupied was situated in the very center of the room, facing the maps. He grumbled under his breath as Pippin stood at attention, draping the rag over his shoulder as he resumed his post next to his Master.

Aatrix focused hard on his maps, but he knew that there was nothing more that he could glean from them. Color-coded pins were punctured into various locations on the maps. Large red circles encompassed key areas. Notes were everywhere. Little flags marking spots of interest. The map on the left was chock full of data. The map on the right was mostly bare.

“It’s cold, Pippin,” Aatrix grumbled. “I’ve been staring at this for days.”

“Indeed, sir, against my better judgment,” the lalafell quipped. He adjusted the cuff of his monkey suit. “I’m sure that there are much better uses of your valuable time.”

“Where could she be…” said Aatrix as he ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the map.

Aatrix was searching for a woman. The Hunt was for a person. A woman from Aatrix’s past that had slipped through his fingers. He had always made it a point to never lose track of anyone, or at least make sure that he had that information close at hand for when he needed it. But this person had somehow fallen through the cracks. Disappeared into the aether for all he knew. She was gone.

Once, a long time ago, she had been his wife. For only a year, they had been happy. Or so he thought. Then it was over. She was gone. It became a blur after that. His political career was on the upswing while his personal life fell apart. He remembered singing some paperwork, even offering up some unheard of terms, but he had been in a daze.

He hadn’t lost her then though. He’d followed her. Kept tabs on her. Had a man following her. His maps were marked with all that data. Places she’d lived and worked. There were drawers filled with dossiers on some of the people she’d interacted with. Even her safehouses, the locations that she had stored emergency supplies to use to disappear into the wilderness, had been marked and mapped. Every little bit of data he could collect had been compiled and pored over. It had started with him wanting to make sure she stayed out of trouble; had everything she needed. But then it started to become an obsession.

And somehow she was still gone.

Aatrix had been hunting her for five years. Her trail went cold right up to the Battle of Cartenau. She’d gone to the battle, and then nothing. The official Twin Adders records indicated that she was dead; listed as a casualty. But Aatrix couldn’t accept that.

It was the return of the Warriors of light that had tipped Aatrix off. He had forgotten all about his search after the Calamity. She was dead and gone; out of sight out of mind. But when reports reached his desk of people reappearing as if out of nowhere something tickled in the back of his memory. A chance encounter with two such survivors on a fishing dock had cemented his resolve. He found himself wandering down the long, lonely corridors of his mansion, back towards the forgotten Hunt Room.

The collected dust was swept away and the search began anew.

Nothing had turned up though. She was still an enigma. Pippin was sure that she was a charred corpse, but Aatrix refused to concede. His search had started by trying to dig up her old contacts. Her old haunts. Many of them had died or disappeared in the intervening years, most all of them had disappeared. The trail was dead and cold.

Aatrix could hear Pippin talking to someone over a pearl at his side. He wasn’t paying attention though. He was zeroed in on his maps, looking for any connection at all.

“Sir,” the Lalafell piped in after a moment, jarring Aatrix from his thoughts. “It is… that seamstress woman from over a moon ago. She is wondering if you have any need of any garments that she might be able to provide.” He rolls his eyes. “Some rubbish about client satisfaction, I believe. Business must be slow at the Sunsilks.”

Aatrix sat up, slicking back his hair. “It’s her…” he mumbled. “That woman, the seamstress. The one that changed her name.” He’d made the connection later, after an informant had brought him a drawing of her. The images matched up perfectly. It was hard to hide a tattoo like that. He didn’t know why he hadn’t recognized her that evening on the docks. It was her… the former employer. She’d disappeared into the deserts of Thanalan after taking his order, and once he’d made the connection she had slipped through his fingers.

But she’d walked right back in.

“Tell her I don’t need any more clothing,” he said, leaning back into his chair with a grin and brushing a gray hair behind his pointy ear. “I have enough to last me til the next age.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

“But arrange a meeting for me. As soon as possible. Do whatever it takes.”

“With displeasure, sir.”