I am fully returned now!
This is something I was working on in getting back into Final Fantasy XI. Thought I would share it here for those not a member of Moghat (my linkshell). It’s pretty much the first new thing I’ve written in about six months, and I felt really good about it. Hopefully you guys like it to. What it was is a revisualization of a quest for a certain job, the Summoner. Some of the stuff doesn’t make any sense from a writing standpoint, so I took those points and altered them so it flowed as though it were truly possible within the universe. So, here it is, in six parts:
It was a gift.
The apple-sized ruby rest in his hand, it’s unnaturally polished surface reflecting the mess of blue hair on the small Taru’s head. His large eyes started into the crimson red surface, comtemplating what he would do with it.
What’s it even for?
He’d tried to sell it, but most had never seen a gem so large and so they assumed it to be a fake. That irritated him. The Mithra were known for their thieves. Not Tarutaru. Those who had expressed an interest quickly turned him away once the gem touched their hands. He shook his head vigorously.
Gift indeed. It’s been nothing but trouble!
He placed the gem back in the pouch he’d been carrying it in, and hopped down from the desk in the Mog House he was renting in Jeuno. He was headed out to Qufim Island, adjacent to Jeuno, to train some new spells with a group of other adventurers. With the pouch in his bags, he grabbed the tiny sword leaning against the door frame and exited into Lower Jeuno.
Jeuno is the largest city on the continent, and is constantly flooded with adventurers of all walks, civilians and Ducal guards. Vorithas pushed his way through the crowds, dodging various knee- and shin-guards as he went, making his way towards the stairs.
…Seek and gather…
He stopped, startled, attempting to figure out where the voice, which rang so clearly over the droning cacophony that usually hung over Jeuno, had come from. That earned him a shin to the shoulder, which sent him sprawling into a nearby wall. The ‘offender’ came over and helped him up, but Vorithas barely heard them apologize before moving on through the crowds. Eventually he shrugged the voice off as someone, a merchant or adventurer, nearby.
Qufim Island is home to Delkfutt’s Tower — an ominous spire that had a similar appearance to the Crags in La Theine, Konschtat and Tahrongi. It was also, in his opinion, home to some of the worst weather in all of Vana’diel. The tunnel from Jeuno wasn’t so bad, as long as you can sneak by the weapons that congregate by the “spine” running through the right side of the cave. “Spine” was the only way Vortihas could think to describe it. It looked like segmented bone, and buried itself between Jeuno and Delkfutt’s Tower. Vorithas was always amused by the weapons. He cast Sneak on himself, at a respectible distance from one — they could sense when a mage used magic. Once it was cast, he ran right up to the weapon and began making faces at it. He was constantly entertained by just how blind they actually were. After he’d had his fun with the weapon, he moved on past them.
Once he cleared the tunnel, he was instantly reminded of the awful weather in Qufim. A flash of lightning nearly blinded him, and he was assailed by the spray of the ocean smashing against the sheered cliff faces. A few more bolts arced across the sky, and Vorithas shivered. Luckily, the adventurers he was meeting were gathered here, so he wouldn’t have to do any searching. As he drew close to the group, he raised his arm in greeting. Another bolt of light cracked the sky.
…Gather…The seven colors…
His ears perked up. That same voice! He looked around for a moment, growing distressed as he saw no one who could have been the source of the voice. Was he losing his mind? He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. One of the other adventurers had walked over to him. They asked if he was alright, that he looked like he’d seen a ghost.
No. He thought, But I must be hearing one!
He nodded that he was alright, and after a few moments of them all gathering equipment, they set out for a camp. Being a Tarutaru, Vorithas was curious by nature, and this new dilemma was no exception. One of his companions on this journey was a black mage. Maybe, Vorithas paused to think, Maybe he’ll know something about these seven colors. He quickened his pace, matching the black mage once he’d caught up.
Vorithas wasted little time in asking, and the black mage looked at him, surprised, and then thought for a moment. At first, he hadn’t, but then he seemed to remember six colors from his studies. The six colors of the elements: Red, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet. They translated into Fire, Earth, Wind, Water, Ice, and Lightning. If that was six colors, what was the seventh? And why did this voice seem so insistant that he find them? The black mage laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, telling him not to worry so much. Vorithas nodded, and tried to shove the thoughts to the back of his mind.