Place: the Cleyran Tree, Burmecia
Date: 12 November 1790 (10 years before game start; 5 years before Fratley leaves Burmecia; 7 years before Freya and Puck leave Burmecia)
Rating: G
Kigaeno Moondancer
Cleyra, High Priest
Claire, Priestess in Training
Freya, Dragoon Trainee
Fratley, Dragoon Trainee
The pale faced burmecian stood in front of his high priest, leaning on his staff, youth in his eyes but body looking far older. Overworked, overthought, overstressed; he was certain these people, cleyrans, clueless breathern of his, would be his and their own undoing.
"So then, you would have me leave." Kigaeno stared relentlessly into the eyes of the newly minted High Priest. He had known that this man would not be as willing to allow him to continue his activities here in the tree city of Cleyra, but had somehow hoped against hope for better, "You would have me leave because I have devised the flaw in our defense, the flaw I feel will be one day taken advantage of...Flaws should be plugged."
"Taken advantage of for what? What you're telling us is possible would take someone of extreme power, not to mention a great deal of luck.. and why would anyone attack Cleyra? Even Burmecia is presently at peace." the High Priest shook his head, taking a seat on his temple chair as several of the maidens looked onward nervously.
Kigaeno had been an anomaly since his birth as a Cleyran. While he agreed, for now, that they should not fight unless necessary, he quite simply thought it would one day become very much so. Because of this had continually pointed out flaws in their defenses and attempted to get them to add more aggressive means in case of a real attack. But none of the Cleyrans had left Cleyra, and most people outside didn't even realize where Cleyra was, so to most of them such a thing seemed distant. Having for a short time left Cleyra himself, Kigaeno was now even more compelled to tell them what that they should be doing. He knew it would become critical.
All the High Priest knew was that he couldn't have this sort of attitude damaging the Cleyran culture. Cleyra was a peaceful community based on mutual respect of its inhabitants. It had no real government to speak of, no legal system, and no crime. Of course this made Kigaeno's thoughts seem criminal, since they were the worst the High Priest had encountered. Such distasteful distress over something that might occur centuries hence.
The wind storm that surrounded the giant Cleyran tree on which they lived had endured for centuries without so much as slowing down. His assumption that those outside could stop the wind storm was unthinkable, both in motive and possibility. No one can stop the windstorm from without, and no one could get in without being allowed by those inside.
"I will go, and it is my sincerest wish that I am wrong, even if I am not. If I cannot convince you to plug the holes... then I will find a way to remove those who might pass through them." perhaps he could protect them better from outside, at least it was his best hope. Kigaeno turned, gripping his staff in his left hand, and walked towards the front of the temple, "But if it does come to what I think it will in my lifetime, do not expect me to stay away and leave you on your own folly. I am resigned to fight only when needed, but should something happen to this place... all humans will suffer my vengence."
And with that he passed outside. As he left the temple felt a hand placed on his side, and looked down to see a familiar face, it was Claire, "Are you going now mister?"
"Were you peeping Claire? You know I have to go." his voice immediately became gentle towards her, a soft smile on his tired and wrethed face. Kigaeno knelt to the child and patted her head, "but you know I will miss you and everyone else here. Perhaps you most of all, my one promising student."
"I believe you." Claire's belief had always given him some sort of hope that the next generation of Cleyrans might be more sensible, but she was just a child. Perhaps his apparent influence on their children was one thing that caused the new High Priest to be so adamant about making him leave, "I could go with you."
"You cannot. I must go alone, but I promise I will come back if there is trouble." he could not take her with him, not yet. She deserved to grow up in peace before being used for war.
"You'll save us if the bad people come?"
"I will try my best. Please don't worry, I could just as easily be wrong. You should go practice your harp. And remember what I said about your magic; one day I may have need of it for more aggressive purposes."
Reluctantly the child turned away and walked off, believing, yet still oblivious to the true nature of the threat they might face if the wind storm could successfully be un summoned. Vowing that it would never come to that, Kigaeno stood, and walked over the exit.
Kigaeno fell to the desert sand on the outside of the wind storm. It was insane. The fierce storm was almost impossible to traverse even when they had 'allowed' him passage through it; he was a near waste on the other side. He could see how they would put their raw faith in such a thing, but the mere fact that it could be slowed and traversed meant that there was a danger.
Even so, as he lay on his hands and knees and watched blood drool from between his mottled white and green fur, he wondered if his paranoia was worth being separated from them. They were fools, he knew, but he loved every last one of them.
And that was why he couldn't let his separation be for nothing. He had to grow stronger; he had to be ready to defend them with his very soul if they were ever in danger. Standing, he drew from his bag the last 3 hi potions he had and taking the energy from their use, he staggered forward towards Burmecia.
Sand and biting winds eventually turned to the grassy wet plains of Burmecia. The rain felt oddly good against him, and he even let down his hood to let it soak into his fur. Such a beautiful shadowy sky, only matched by the beauty of the city up ahead as he approached. Artistry and architechture that mere humans could never muster. Even it, snuggled safely against the mountain and well defended, might not be safe forever, but he felt somewhat more secure knowing that any enemy that wanted to touch Cleyra would have to go through Burmecia to get to them.
But the future was uncertain, and he could not chance it. Once he had supplies from here, he would retreat to his mountain overlook to prepare, and began his journeys in search of ways to defend his kind.
It didn't take him long to acquire what he needed. Mostly potions and medicines to replace those he had, since the shopkeeper in Cleyra had refused to sell him anything. It felt painful to have to resort to their supposably less civilized sister city to get what he needed. Shamed, he would not admit to anyone there where he was from.
He would have to get more gil in some other way, it should be easy enough to acquire from monsters and the like. He turned to go, taking a last look at the beautiful statues and ornate walls of the relatively peaceful city. Yet were they setting themselves up for a fall by being stagnant?
He stopped in front of what appeared to be a training center, where his eyes caught a young female recruit dressed in red, with the symbols of a dragoon in training on her. From the time he had spent there before he knew that such a thing was rare, and he stopped and nodded to her. So few were aspiring to be the best of the best now, it seemed.
She curtsied politely, and was quickly distracted by a slightly older male recruit who called for her. He called her by the name 'Freya', an interesting name. He hoped she would grow to be prepared for what he was preparing for.
And with this he walked from the city, not even resting at the inn before continuing.