AN: Hello all, this is my first fanfic that I've actually been confident enough to begin publishing. I do hope it lives up to at the very least my own expectations and with a lot of luck, your's as well!
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy or any character of the series...or well anything at all to do with...(ff13=2 would have been a lot better had I!). So all rights to SE...etc etc.
Divine Etro, goddess of all life, hear my prayer.
Grant me the strength to fulfill my pledge.
Grant me the wisdom to see my faults.
Grant me the will to stay my emotion.
Grant me the days so that I may serve you.
Grant me the courage to withstand.
Grant me the endurance to protect.
In your blessed name I pray.
Know that I shall hold vigil over you.
Sleep in peace divine Etro.
The Etronian Templar's prayer.
The story I write is not fantasy, despite the thousands of claims that is. What I shall disclose in these volumes, is known to only a small number of people, a number that is greatly diminishing with each passing day.
The reason I write this is simple. It is the wish of two people in particular, that this chronicle be taken down in a permanent form of some sort, so that it may withstand the test of time and not be marred in any fashion or given have anything added to it that would make it more fantastical than it already is.
You see, one year ago, my forty years of research into a certain legend surrounding the goddess Etro took a very real turn. The pages of books based on what is to be considered myths, cam to life before my very eyes. People, things, legends and wonders the like of which the world can only dream passed before my very human eyes in that short time. Thus, at the behest of two individuals at the forefront of this episode, I shall record for all time the events that have transpired.
As many of you may know, there is a legend that has existed for thousands of years. One that claims that the goddess Etro herself left a piece of her own heart on this world. A divine artifact that was said to hold the power of life itself. I am here to tell you that the story is true, but perhaps not in the sense that you could imagine.
You see, Etro did leave a fragment of her own heart here, one an artifact that has been guarded by a elusive group of people for ten thousand years.
Selected at birth, these guardians have protected the truth of the artifact for ten thousand years with their very lives. But, even among them, only a few have ever known the truth of secret and even less have ever been in direct contact with this most holy of relics.
No matter how simple something seems, no matter how cut and dry, black and white something seems, that is not always how they are.