Prologue: The curse of destiny

"My life... It is over. After what has happened today, it is over. Everything is lost, now that it has happened. For I have been cursed on this very day. Cursed... by a fal'Cie.

We, the people of Paddra, had always led a simple and pleasant life. We may not have had exactly the comfort that villages like Haerii or the famous Oerba had, but little did it matter to us. We had what we needed; we could live from what we planted ourselves or hunted in our beautiful and majestic Yaschas Massif. Yes, our hallowed land of Pulse has been good to us, and so, we held the almighty Gran Pulse in high regard. Him, we respected. But not those creations of his, those wretched fal'Cie.

We people of Paddra, we do not need the fal'Cie. They have nothing to give us, which Pulse does not give herself already. And yet they still demand sacrifices from us. Sacrifices which we cannot decline presenting to them for fear of destruction were we not to follow their wishes, and sacrifices which we, despite all this, only can give reluctantly. For what they demand... are our best men and women.

We are all well aware that there are monsters in this world, both ferocious beasts and those who revolt against the blessed order Gran Pulse has given to us. We cannot deny this fact, and that there is a need to do something against them. But why is it that the fal'Cie, who have far more power than we mere villagers can ever hope to understand, need our men and our women to fight against them? Why can they not just fight out those battles on their own, being how oh so powerful they are supposed to be? Why do they have to curse the best among us, time after time, and rob them from our midst?

And this time, I was the one to be taken. It came as a surprise to our people, and especially to me, for I was far from being one of the best in our lovely Paddra. Many a man and many a woman has been working harder than I was, has been of greater virtue than I would ever aspire to be. And still, it was I who was taken. And I would be missed here, like every cursed l'Cie of Paddra before me had been missed.

Still, despite all my hate for his kind and all my loathing of him, I cannot come to deny that I was deeply impressed by the fal'Cie's mighty presence. He went by the name of Ramuh, and he was but one of the handful of fal'Cie that tended to come to our village to rob away our men and women, and yet, he was of a special kind to me. For it had been him who had taken away from me both my beloved mother and my cherished elder brother in but a few months. For this, I loathed and despised him more than any other fal'Cie there was out there. He had been the one to force the accursed fate of an l'Cie onto my beloved ones, stealing them away from me, and for this, I could never forget him. And still, I found myself admiring his sheer presence when he arrived to our beloved Paddra on this very day. And for this, I am deeply ashamed.

He had taken the guise of an elderly man, dressed in an almost colourless set of robes, and his wise face sported a long and white beard. He carried a little pipe with him, from which he would take a smoke from time to time, and he would have seemed completely ordinary and harmless, had it not been for the immense presence he emanated. Just by him coming to our village, everyone in all of Paddra felt how the air charged itself with electricity, and if you even just so much as looked at him, you would feel as if though lightning had just struck you down. I know this... for I was the one who did even look into his thunderous eyes on this accursed day.

I could not comprehend what happened to me, and I doubt I ever will. Never will I relive something the like ever again, so how would I ever be able to truly tell? But truth be told, I can say that in this short moment, this short instant in which his eyes met mine, I felt as if his presence had just extended to the very bottom of my soul. I cannot explain this feeling, but I know that the sheer might of this sensation is what made me admire him in those moments. And for this, I cannot forgive myself.

I know not why he selected me out of all us Paddrans, and neither do I know if it had anything to do at all with me meeting his eyes. All I know is that this accursed Ramuh then later announced my name as that of the one who would leave this village with him, in order to fulfil the Focus of his choosing. Unable to refuse, my fellow villagers – my friends and my family – they all stepped aside, presenting me thus to this accursed fal'Cie. So we could get over with it, so that he would soon leave our beautiful Paddra, and so that they all could go on with their lives, untouched by the fal'Cie. But I, I was to be touched, and to be cursed with this Focus...

There are many places that a fal'Cie may choose to place his brand on his poor victim. Some prefer the hands, others the shoulders, but there are also those who would often place them in spots most delicate, just for their own amusement. However bad and wretched this may be, everyone in Paddra, and in all of Gran Pulse, knew that one place was the worst, and was to be considered the highest accursed punishment: the face. A l'Cie that has his brand on his shoulder or on his chest may choose to hide it beneath his clothing, and thus conceal this curse that struck him. But one who would want to cover a brand on his face would not find it as easy, as instantly everyone would be suspicious of him. A covered face, some even say, is even more a sign of being a cursed l'Cie than if you would just show your brand to everyone. And Ramuh, may his name be cursed among those of my blood for all of eternity, he did choose to place it exactly there, upon my left eye. Never again will I now be able to show my face here again, in my beautiful hometown. Never again...

My last few hours in this, my beautiful home, are now slowly fading away. There is not much time left for me here in my beloved Paddra. Come sunrise, I will have to leave, for such is the law of the village. And now I find myself sitting here, completely isolated and alone in my home, with nothing left to do but to write these words here. I should be with my wife, my beautiful flower of the mountains, and tell her much I love her. How I will love her forever. But I cannot be permitted this. I cannot shame her any further with my presence and label her an outcast, for she will already have it hard enough as it is. It is she, after all, who will now be burdened with carrying the unborn child of an accursed l'Cie, not I. Oh, the fal'Cie are all so far away from being fair...

Soon, the sun will rise. And when it does, I will be walking along the road, which will lead me away from this, my beloved Paddra. Everyone from the village will be there, standing at the side of the road, bidding me farewell. But it will feel more like a funeral to me than anything else, and a funeral it is indeed, as we all well know. Because for a l'Cie, every road he walks is the road to death.

My name is Paddra Boreas Sceada, and tomorrow, come sunrise, I will leave my village, my friends and my expectant wife behind me, as I will walk the road to my imminent death. For I... am an accursed l'Cie."