Days after the events on Qufim Island, Vorithas sat in his rented Mog House. HIs desk was piled with books and scrolls detailing everything from elemental magic to the weather patterns of Vana’diel to the recorded events of people hearing strange voices. He even had a few books from the Crystal War detailing the daemons who fought alongside the Shadow Lord. Though, he had long since ruled out the voice belonging to a daemon. The book he had open how was useless, and he closed it with a great thud, sending dust flying in all directions.
After cleaning himself off and shaking the dust from his hair, he fumed at the books for their lack of information. Then he noticed that a scroll, cracked and yellowed with age, had fallen to the floor. Annoyed, he hopped down from the chair and picked it up. Unfurling it, he began reading. It detailed, briefly, the work of Windurst’s Optistery Minister during the Crystal War.
This may prove helpful. Vorithas thought as he sat down on his bed to read the scroll. The Minister’s name was Karaha-Baruha, and by the sound of the scroll, he had single-handedly saved Windurst through a forbidden school of magic. It seemed he had unlocked the secrets of the Summoners, a forgotten class of mage, long hidden within and below the towers of Sarutabaruta.
Perhaps this spirit was among the beings called by the summoners?
Vorithas continued reading, learnign that Karaha expended his own life in the summoning of a great wolf, Fenrir, and saved teh city at the beginning of the Crystal War. Was this the power Vorithas now sought? Should he continue? The only thing that irked him about this scroll was the lack of information or references to the ‘colors’ his entity had mentioned a few nights ago. He tossed the scroll aside, and went back to studying the weather charts for Vana’diel that lay on the desk. After learning that the Aurora was a natural occurance — a fact which disappointed him slightly — he began looking intently into weather as a source of the colors. The first chance he’d get to test his theory was this afternoon, in a swamp called the Pashhow Marshlands. He folded the charts, closed the books and hopped down from the desk, grabbing his sword on the way out.
Once he was back among the crowds of Lower Jeuno, he sought out a particular type of adventurer. A while mage. These mages harnessed a part of the Crags, and the telepoint crystals that resided at each — changing them into a teleportation spell for traversing Vana’diel. Once he found a white mage, they haggled a price for the transportation to Crag Dem in Konschtat, and he was on his way.
Pashhow is just a short jaunt from the Dem teleport crystal, and so Vorithas set out immediately. Konschtat is far from flat, however, and his short legs quickly became tired.
I defintely need to register for a chocobo license when I get back to Jeuno.
After several more breaks, the landscape began to change from the monster cliff faces and hilly terrain of the Konschtat Highlands to the flat, wet, open lands of Pashhow. Despite standing in a half-inch of water, Vorithas grinned. The charts had been right. He found a bit of land that was above water, sat down, and took the gem out of its pouch. Its crimson surface gleamed even in the rolling gloom of the thickening cloud cover. Now it was just a waiting game to see what would happen when the rain rolled through. The winds picked up a few minutes later, and Vorithas stood in anticipation of the coming storm. The hood on his tunic blew freely around his neck, and as the winds picked up, he pulled it over his head, keeping it anchored by his ears.
Then he heard the noise, faint at first — then growing louder. It was like rustling leaves in a breeze, but he knew it was something else. A few moments later, he felt it. First a single drop, then a few more, followed by the clouds opening up. He glanced at the gem expectantly, but nothing happened. His ears lowered noticibly at his disappointment. He was drenched, now standing in the pouring rain with his tunic clinging to his body. Had he been wrong about the weather? As he was about to put the gem back into his pouch and start home for Jeuno, soaked and shivering, the gem began to glow. It was surrounded by a blue aura, even as the gem itself remained crimson.
The blue light, I feel it’s power flowing through me…
Then the aura seemed to be absorbed into the gem. Vorithas let out a triumphant cry, a far swing from the mood he’d felt just a few moments ago. He had been right! The colors were references to the various weather patterns on Vana’diel. He gripped the gem tightly, feeling slightly stronger — as though the elemental power flowed through him as well. He then placed the gem in his pouch, and – grin on his face – began walking towards Konschtat.