Disclaimer: FFXI Online is property of SquareEnix, and not my own. I'm just borrowing a little for the time being.

I'd like to thank my wife for allowing me to yet again cheat on her with my digital mistress. Without her help, my heroine would probably be stuck in a parking lot somewhere picking her nose throughout the entire tale.

Chapter 1

The Dangers of Chainspell

The quiet expanse of the green fields was broken only by the occasional rocky hills, trees, and a number of rolanberry vineyards. On this calm day, the only sound was the rhythmic pounding that signaled the approach of a large, yellow-feathered bird. The wide tail plumage bounced as its powerful legs propelled it forward. The chocobo bounced from side to side every once in a while in an attempt to throw its rider and her cargo. Each time it did so, the rider pulled on the reigns and stroked its soft neck to calm it down.

Its rider was a blond, young Elvaan woman clad in a velvet tabard with matching hat and tights. Her hair was fastened in a braid on the side of her head, and though it wasn't immediately apparent, the way she handled her fickle chocobo spoke volumes of the amount of strength stored in body. Her delicate face was a picture of happiness as she approached her destination. Not only was she excited to arrive at her favorite spot but she looked forward to the end of her ride on her rented chocobo. Chocobos may be swift of foot but some of the more spirited ones don't always provide the most comfortable rides. That's the risk involved in renting a chocobo from the stables, she thought to herself, you never know which one you're going to get.

After an hour's worth of riding, she finally arrived at her secluded hideaway. It was the view that this spot afforded her which was the reason that the young woman chose it. The location was isolated but it was also for the consideration of others as well as her comfort. The morning's sole agenda was to practice her enhancing magic skills after which she was to meet up with her childhood friend Magiere. She just as easily could have spent her time in town practicing her incantations but the bustle of the city made it hard to concentrate. Also, the effects of her spells were a noticeable distraction to the residents of Jeuno which didn't win her any popularity contests. At least, it was not the popularity that an adventurer like herself wanted anyway.

The young woman dismounted the chocobo with a grace that spoke of experience. She then unfastened the small, brown blanket strapped the saddle. After unrolling the blanket, she sat down, took a deep breath and began to clear her mind. The familiar concentration set in immediately. She didn't even notice when the chocobo wandered off to peck at the nearby ground for insects and other tasty treats. At once, she began to utter the incantations for a protection from earth spell. Little orbs of light and energy began to crackle around her as her spell progressed to completion. When she finished the spell, an almost imperceptible sheen surrounded her signaling the success of the spell. Even if she hadn't been able to detect the aftermath of the spell visually, she knew the spell had worked by the mental drain it had caused her. One down, she thought, hundreds more to go.



Hours passed while she cycled through all her spells systematically. She would cast until she was too drained to go any further, and then rest until she could start all over again. It was a tedious process and after a while it because automatic. Soon, she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate as the memories of her rocky past began to force their way into the forefront of her mind. She resigned herself to the fact that she would not get any more practice done today and began to look around for her wayward chocobo. It hadn't wandered very far, and she found it seated in the shade next to a tree trying to preen its feathers with its trimmed beak. Once it took notice of the woman its head jerked up and tilted to the side curiously.

"Easy, girl," she calmly said as she approached her mount. "It's time for lunch."

The chocobo seemed to understand the word "lunch" and perked up cheerfully. It responded with a heartfelt, "Kweh!" She then reached into the saddlebags and retrieved her lunch and some gysahl greens for her large, yellow friend. While the chocobo wasted no time in gobbling down its food, the young woman wanted to savor her meal. Today's feast was courtesy of the Culinarian's Guild in Windurst and consisted of a cold salmon sub sandwich and pineapple juice. Despite trying to busy herself with the present, there was something about that particular day that she still couldn't shake the thoughts of her past and as she bit into the sandwich, she became lost in reverie…

- - - - - -

"Willow Raulemant! Watch what you're doing!," a voice bellowed from across the room.

The voice of her father caused the young girl to drop the small log in her hands and snapped her from her thoughts just in time to see the flames of her kiln die out. Her sole task was to keep just that from happening.

"Sorry, papa."

"How are you supposed to advance to crystal synthesis when you can't even get the basics of goldsmithing down? I give you a second chance and this is how you pay me back? By not following even the simple instructions I gave you? Just go. Leave. Get out of my sight."

"But I said I was sorry…"

"OUT!"

The young girl ran off, tears filling her eyes. The sounds of her father cursing Altana for such a daughter filled the air during her retreat. As soon as her father was out of sight, the tears stopped and most of her feigned sadness melted away. Her father may have been a goldsmith, but he was still an imposing figure to her. Even though it hurt her to get yelled at, Willow was secretly relieved to be out of the shop. Things had become strained between her and her father after she ruined half a shipment of copper ore a month ago. After she had caused the other kiln to explode the week prior, he had become nearly impossible to be around. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't want to follow his footsteps and become a goldsmith. It's not that learning to shape the fine metals into works of art didn't appeal to her; she just longed to be out in the open living her own life and not someone else's expectation of it.

Willow knew there would be hell to pay later when her father came home so she began to formulate a plan to mitigate her future suffering. She would make a special dinner for him and he would forget all about being angry at her. And, if he were in a good enough mood, she would tell him she didn't want to apprentice for him anymore at the goldsmith guild. Hmm, now what to cook…? Aha! I'll make him my special roast carp and fried popotoes. We've got the popotoes, now all I need is fish. The 

idea seemed like the greatest revelation in recorded history to her, yet the fact that she was a worse cook than a goldsmith never entered her mind on the way back to her house.

The young girl ran through the Bastokan market area, her long blond locks bouncing cheerfully as she passed the auction house on the way home. The chaotic shouting and haggling over prices between adventurers and vendors was the norm here and Willow liked to see the goings on of such a busy place. Although she was tempted to look at the wares on display and fantasize about the adventures she could have with them, there were more pressing matters at hand. Her very own mission demanded that she retrieve her fishing rod and tackle box.

She soon made her way through the bustle of the market square and was on the verge of opening the door to her home when she heard a commotion behind her.

"Stop! Thief!!" yelled a tall man garbed in odd scarlet clothing. He pointed at the small, brown-haired girl running ahead of him with all the speed she could muster with her tiny legs.

"Magiere! What have you done?," Willow whispered to the girl when was close enough to hear. Magiere simply winked at her as she ran by on her way towards the crowd trying to enter the Bastokan residential district. The little girl quickly darted in between people and in and out of houses until she felt she had lost her pursuer. When the commotion outside died down, she quietly made her way to Willow's house, careful not to arouse suspicion.

She let herself in through the window and looked around the small living space for her friend, Willow. As she scanned the room, she took notice of the two beds in the far corner; one was Willow's the other belonged to her father. Next to the beds was a chest that Willow's father always kept under lock and key. Both of them spent many nights arguing over the possible contents of the chest. Next to the beds was a small but sturdy work table upon which lay the tools of a goldsmith. Neither of them really knew what they were for but they looked absolutely curious in their design and shape. Across from the workspace and beds was the makeshift kitchen and it was here that Magiere saw her friend. Willow was busy looking at the shelf of cooking ingredients to make sure she had what she needed for later. She took notice of her friend sneaking in the window instantly.

"What were you doing running around like that," Willow shouted.

"Oh, uh, that angry man accused me of taking something that belonged to him."

"What was it this time?"

"Nothing, I swear! But when he grabbed me and made me turn out my pockets, a pretty purse fell out of one of them. I had never seen it before and had no idea how it got in there but it was sooooo pretty."

"You finally got caught red-handed. I knew you were going to get yourself in trouble one of these days doing that."

"But I didn't do anything! He was so mad and he grabbed me by the wrist and he was going to take me to the gate guards and have me thrown in jail! So, I kicked him in the shin and ran."

"At least you got away. Your papa would kill you if he found out you got in trouble with the law again."

"Ah, he doesn't care. He's too busy spending his days drinking and fishing off the port bridge."

"That reminds me! I have to go fishing too. I need some moat carp for dinner tonight. I want to smooth things over with Papa so I'm going to make him a special dinner. You want to come too? If yo are done taking things from the adventurers, that is."

"I didn't take anything!" Magiere protested, but then a funny look came over her face as she reached in her pocket. The color drained from her face as she pulled out the exotic coin purse she had so fervently denied taking. "Maybe I did," she relented. "I can't go out there! After all that, someone'll recognize me! Let me borrow one of your shirts."

"You would drown in one of my shirts," Willow noted matter-of-factly, as she stood up to her full height. Although they hadn't finished growing, Willow's Elvaan ancestry meant she towered over all her peers.

"That's alright, I'll just tie a belt around it and it'll be like a dress on me. We'd better hurry if we want to make it back before dinner."

Willow handed Magiere one of her shirts and after tying on a belt, it almost could pass for a dress on Magiere. Though, it only came up to her upper thighs and was a much shorter "dress" than her father would have been comfortable letting her out of the house in, if her father objected to such matters. She could have left home dressed in a pillow sheet and her father wouldn't have batted an eye. Willow grabbed the poles and tackle and they both slipped out of the house. Magiere avoided eye contact with everyone and glanced around for any signs of recognition. She was relieved to find none.

Since Magiere didn't want to run across her father while fishing the young girls decided to leave the confines of the city of Bastok and fish out in the open Bastore Sea. Their lack of a fishing vessel meant they would have to be restricted to fishing off the cliffs overlooking the water. It wasn't far from the city but it was still far enough for a little peace and quiet and away from accusing eyes. The day dragged on and the girls occupied themselves with gossip and news of things happening around town. Magiere confided in Willow that the traveling circus would be coming to Bastok in the coming weeks to celebrate the Bastokan performance in the "conquest" rivalry. Willow didn't know what the rivalry was about but it didn't matter to her. The circus was coming and that's all she needed to know.

The worn grip of her fishing pole was comforting to Willow. It reminded her of all the times she and her father had gone fishing together as a child. That happened less and less as she got older. She liked to blame it on the guild and making him work longer and longer hours as he progressed up the ranks. When he wasn't working on his own commissions he was busy training or supervising the newer members of the guild. He seemed to have changed to her, or perhaps she was the one who was changing. Unhappy with those thoughts, she pushed them out of her mind.

Even though Willow only needed a few fish for her recipe, the several hours they spent on the cliffs netted them more than enough for dinner. It was more than enough for a week's worth of dinners. Willow had only caught one or two but she was always amazed at the relative easy with which Magiere caught fish. As soon as they began fishing, Magiere just started talking and reeling in fish as if the fishes' only purpose in life was to jump on Magiere's lures. The two had been so caught up in their ongoing conversation of cute neighborhood boys to notice that they were not alone.

Two squat creatures were watching them intently. Although the girls were short they still were taller by far than the two creatures observing them. The creatures wore masks which covered their entire faces to aid in their breathing. The tinted goggles and overall shape of the masks gave them a sort of whimsical appearance. The only humanoid feature that stuck out was pairs of pointed, hairy ears that jutted horizontally out of their heads. Both wore packs fashioned from various animal skins and looked to be stuffed to the brim with whatever goblins deemed important to store. One turned and spoke to the other in a harsh, guttural language then motioned towards the basket into which the girls were placing the spoils of the day. The other nodded and unsheathed a small dagger as they both crept over to the girls, hoping to catch them unaware.

Their plan worked and the approach went unnoticed by the girls. However, Magiere caught sight of the duo moments before they sprang their attack. "Goblins," she cried!

"Wha…," was all Willow managed to cry before she was struck on the back of the head. Her vision was nothing but blinding light followed by immense pain that threatened to rip her head in two. When she came to seconds later, she was lying face down on the ground and her hair had taken on an orange tint from the blood oozing from her wound. Through the dizziness, she looked over at Magiere and saw the one with the knife throw her friend to the ground while the other was rummaging through their things and making a pile of anything of value. When Magiere landed, the purse she had stolen had fallen out of her pockets, and the goblins eyed it greedily. The next image Willow saw burned into her memory and haunted her ever since; the goblin over Magiere plunged his dagger into her body. Magiere's eyes widened with disbelief. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound escaped. Willow watched as the light slowly started to drain from her friend's eyes.

"Skrecht nes tak!" said the goblin with the dagger. The other stopped his search and looked over at Willow. When he noticed that she was awake, he picked up the frying pan on the ground next to him and hurried over to finish her off.

The next few moments seemed like an eternity for Willow. Her vision had taken on a pink tint from the blood and tears that ran over her eyes. Through them she saw the goblin coming her way in slow motion, yet she seemed to move in real time. The anger and frustration at her inability to help her friend and herself stung more than bite or slap she had ever felt. The sight of Magiere's body with a dagger sticking out of her chest left a horrible, uneasy feeling in Willow's stomach. Slowly she forced her way to her feet. Through the pain, the dizziness and the queasy feeling she had in her stomach she felt an entirely new emotion. This hot feeling eradicated anything else in her body as it traveled from deep within until it filled her very being. It spread through her small frame like molten lava slowly making its way out from underneath the earth. As she got to her feet, all her fears, all her pain, and all her doubts left her body. All that was left was her rage. In an instant that was gone too. When she stood, her face was the very definition of serenity.

The air surrounding Willow began to heat up and fill with tiny orbs of light. Stray bits of energy crackled around her. It was as if she had woken from an extremely disturbing dream. She could remember the anger but no longer felt it. Yet, it was still there and tangible, as though she could pick it up and throw it, and so she did. Each time she directed the anger at the goblin lunging at her a new spark of fire would erupt. The goblin cried out in pain and shock at the turn of events but was powerless to do anything else. Over and over again she flung her rage, until the goblin was completely alight. The wailing sounds of anguish and smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Willow wanted to feel righteous and justified at taking vengeance for the loss of her friend, but in the span of those few seconds, it was impossible to feel anything, save for an intense desire to sleep. It engulfed her the longer she continued her onslaught. She tried to target the other goblin but the fatigue was overpowering. Eventually, she couldn't fight it off any longer and in the last few moments before she passed out, a scarlet flash filled her eyes and then nothing.

Willow awoke to find herself in bed with father sitting next to her in his workman's chair. She was safely at home but she had lost all sense of time. It was nighttime and in the candlelit room she examined her father sitting next to her. He appeared haggard, as if his clothes hadn't been changed in days. The creases of his face seemed to have twice the depth since the last time she saw him. For the briefest of moments, he stopped being her father and she saw him as he really was, an old, lonely man. "You should be dead twice over," he noted without a hint of emotion in his voice. "You've been asleep for 4 days now."

"W-What happened," she inquired but as she tried to move her head felt like it had been squeezed in a vice. She became aware of a wet feeling on her forehead. Upon investigation, a damp washcloth was the culprit. She looked about the room and noticed that she was lying on her father's bed. Magiere's form was curled up on her own bed. The slow, cyclical upheaval of her chest signaled that somehow she lived. "Magiere? How?"

"You were lucky. A passing red mage who identified himself only as Manu heard the commotion and came to your rescue. He dealt with the remaining goblin and revived Magiere before she died from her wound. He brought you both back to town. He then told me a very interesting tale in which you were able to fend off one of the goblins by chaining together fire spells and casting them at it."

"I… used magic?"

"The fire isn't the remarkable part. Any charlatan who knows a cantrip or two can evoke fire. Out of all of the elements, fire is by far the easiest to conjure; it's an apprentice spell. It's something almost fundamental in beings and emotions can bring it out. Fire responds most to anger. You could feel it, couldn't you, the burning sensation, like the blood in your veins boiling? That's how you were able to summon the flames.

"Like I said, the fire is unimportant. What is important is the fact that you were able to chain your spells. That's a fairly advanced red mage technique—advanced, and dangerous. The drain you felt when you first cast the fire is normal. All magic deprives you of your mental stamina. It's not permanent and you will recover it naturally when you rest.

"Chaining is different from normal casting in that you forfeit a small amount of life force to make casting instantaneous. When you cast a spell normally, you must recite the incantations which will take time depending upon the complexity of the spell. However, there are times in a red mage's life when time is of the essence or could mean the difference between life and death. In order to gain this advantage, a red mage gives up a bit of life. No one is exactly sure what the tradeoff is. It could be minutes, months, or years for each use of the chainspell technique. The problem with finding out is that no one knows exactly when they're supposed to die, so it's impossible to know how much was forfeit. The other tenet is that red mage's often live harsh lives filled with combat. It's rare to find one that lives to old age as it is. Only through training are red mages able to get the most benefit from the least sacrifice. It's not unheard of for an untrained person to tap into the chainspell technique and forfeit the rest of their life force in the process thus rendering any benefit useless."

"What's a red mage?"

"Red magic is an amalgam of white and black magic. Red mages can cast restorative and protective spells like white mages and can channel destructive energies like black mages but it's in enhancing and enfeebling that the red mage truly shines. A red mage is a combat caster, equally adept at using a sword and casting a spell. Their most common yet powerful tactic is to magically augment themselves, their equipment and their companions while simultaneously debilitating their enemies. In this fashion, legendary red mages can take on swarms of beastmen and live to tell the tale. I can teach 

you to wield red magic. I should teach you, so if something like this comes up again, you'll be more of a danger to your adversary than yourself. You come from a strong line and my daughter shouldn't need to rely on others to save her.

"Now that you've stumbled onto this, one thing is certain: your life has been shortened. Who knows by how much? I had hoped to keep you away from this. Had you grown up in San d'Oria, our homeland, you surely would have been a squire for one of the famous orders of knights there by now. Perhaps you would have shunned that as well and roamed the lands as a mercenary, an "adventurer". I think that freedom would be more to your liking. An adventurer's life is not one I would have chosen for you, but it's become more and more obvious as you've grown that your heart is filled with wanderlust. I've prayed to Altana that you would grow up to be more like your mother. But, there's too much of me in you. The day quickly approaches when you will leave me to go out and make your mark in the world. It would be irresponsible of me as your father to allow you to continue down this path alone and ignorant. Get some rest, little one. Be my little girl for just a few hours more. Tomorrow, we begin your training."