I've been playing Final Fantasy XIV since the launch of Stormblood and since then I've fallen in love with my character, Arza Ra'qael. Well, not literally in love, I've just gotten really invested in the exploits and struggles of my Miqo'te Paladin.

I had this backstory in mind for about a year, but I haven't put it to paper until just now. I know I really should be working on In a League of their Own, but I've been kinda busy with a ton of other stuff, due in part to the virus. I will be continuing that story soon, but I had to get this out there in the meantime. Hope you enjoy!

Nighttime in Thanalan. The lights of economic superpower Ul'dah shone like a bright light among the cool, barren desert that surrounded, sitting like a shining crown, visible for malms and malms away. The sands surrounding the Sultanate appeared blue under the moonlight, like a dry, windy ocean.

The burning caravan stuck out like a sore thumb in this environment.

"Hurry, men! I can see it just up ahead!" shouted Flame Lieutenant Lohra Ra'qael, clad in a specially-crafted green uniform. She was charging across the cool sands on her Chocobo, decked out in Ul'dahn barding and followed by a dozen more soldiers, dressed in similar garb. They had received word from a scout that the Amal'jaa had plundered a caravan en route to the city with a supply of crystals.

They reached the burning wreckage in record time, Lohra pulling back and bringing her Chocobo to a screeching halt.

"Kweh! Kweh!"

"Pipe down, Simmer!" Lohra said, climbing down. She was a Miqo'te, a Keeper of the Moon to be precise. Her hair was long and pitch-black, her eyes a shining blue and her skin fair. Miqo'te in general were pretty short, but Lohra was an outlier, the top of her head managing to reach the chin of one of her Hyur underlings.

She saw nothing move, but kept a hand on her curved sword just to be safe. "Spread out and search the area," she ordered. "The Amal'jaa are long gone, but we can at least look for any survivors."

"Yes sir!"

Her troops spread out. One of her underlings, a massive Roegadyn, threw a ton of sand on one wagon to put out the small fires still licking away at it before lifting it up, allowing his Lalafell comrade to crawl under it and search.

"Nothing down here, Lieutenant!" he called.

"Nothing over here either," the Hyur private called shortly after.

Lohra sighed, pinching her forehead. "Too late yet again..." she turned to her troops. "They've made off with the crystals as well. Let's head back and report to-"

Her sentence was interrupted by a soft, piercing high-pitched sound started up from one of the wagons, which mercifully seemed to avoid being burned. Lohra held up a hand when a few of her men began to move towards the wagon, weapons drawn. She slowly stepped towards the wagon, her hand on her sword ready to draw it at a moment's notice, but her feline ear flickered when she got close enough to process what the noise was.

It's a baby crying.

She picked up the pace, clawing through the wreckage, overturning an empty crate, and pausing when she finally saw the source of the sound.

It was another Miqo'te. She looked about 8 months old, with gold-colored hair. She was tangled up in various bits of cloth and, or course, she was bawling her eyes out.

Lohra couldn't help but feel pity welling up inside of her as her maternal instincts kicked in. She had always wanted children, but her career in the Immortal Flames left her little time to pursue a relationship. Maybe she could...

She shook her head. I can't jump the gun yet. Surely she has other relatives that weren't in the caravan at the time. We need to find them first.

Though I guess someone will have to watch her while we try to find them...

She cradled the girl, rocking her back and forth and humming some song that was permanently ingrained into her subconscious that she probably heard from her own mother as a little girl. The crying stopped and the girl opened her eyes, giving Lohra a good look at the brilliant violet orbs. She looked up at her rescuer, curiously.

Smiling, she sheathed her sword and held the baby close with both arms. She turned to her comrades. "Looks like we found one survivor at least... Let's track down the caravan's last stop and see if we can find her family."

With that, they rode back to Ul'dah, slower this time. After all, they had another passenger who they didn't want to disturb.

"You can't find anything?" Lohra asked incredulously.

"Nothing whatsoever," the redheaded Lalafell scout replied. Rasalito Sasalito was barely a private, but he nonetheless got along swimmingly with a few of the higher-ups. "The caravan's last stop was near Camp Drybone. No one there has any recollection of any Miqo'te with a child. They don't recall any Miqo'te whatsoever, in fact, apparently the caravan was run by a group of Hyur. The people we questioned believed them to be Ala Mhigan refugees."

"So... we have no idea who or where her family is."

"Most likely she was taken in by the caravan. Any family she had likely perished in the attack."

Lohra sighed. "What to do with her then..." she looked back to see the child, wrapped in a blanket, sleeping soundly on a bed. They were having this discussion in the infirmary, since Rasalito had an unfortunate run-in with a few Sabotenders on the way back and needed some treatment. Thankfully the injuries were minor.

Rasalito considered the child. "You know... you always did want children."

Lohra turned to face him in shock. "Huh?"

"You're not exactly subtle about it, you know. Besides, the others saw the way you looked at her when you rescued her. I think she'd be happy with you."

Lohra walked over to the child, who, seemingly in response to her approach, she woke up and looked up into her face, giggling. The Lieutenant smiled, picking up the baby. "I think you're right," she said as she began rocking the baby. "It's time for us to go home now," she said to the child, sweetly.

"You'll be safe with me... Arza."

"Kyaaaa!"

The training dummy was split clean in half horizontally, the top half sliding off before falling onto the dusty ground. The one responsible handed her sword back to her mother. Arza Ra'qael, age 14, wiped some sweat off her brow, her unkempt hair having darkened from a light blonde to a dark golden color as she got older, the color shared by her long bushy tail. Unlike Lohra, who was tall by Miqo'te standards, Arza was about the average height for the felines, meaning she was pretty short. Having evidently come from the desert her complexion was much more tan than her mother was.

"Great work, Arza!" Lohra congratulated, her black hair a bit lighter with age. "You really know how to handle a sword, don't you?"

"I'm still not as good as you, though," Arza said, pointing to the six other training dummies that had been sliced, but the sword hadn't cut cleanly through them, the tops continuing to hang there. "If I'm going to become a Paladin, I have to be the best!"

Lohra smiled. When Arza was a little kid she heard stories about the Sultansworn, those powerful swordsmen who fight to protect the crown, right wrongs and defend the people of Ul'dah. "You will be, Arza. But you're still a kid. I was your age when I first picked up a sword, and I only made it into the Flames until I was 21. You're well on your way there, sweetie. You just need to be patient."

Arza nodded. "...All right.

Lohra ruffled Arza's hair. "Raubahn didn't become General in a day. He had to start from the bottom. Literally the very bottom. You'll be a great Paladin one day."

"The best Paladin, you mean," Arza replied confidently. "Everyone in Ul'dah will know the name Arza Ra'qael, the strongest and most beautiful champion of justice who ever lived!"

"The very best."

Quick footsteps cut through their soft laughter. They looked behind them to see Rasalito approaching. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Ra'qael. Arza."

"Hi Captain Sasalito!" Arza greeted cheerfully.

"Captain. What can we do for you?"

"I need to discuss something with you. It's... sensitive. I'm sorry, Arza, but me and your mother will have to discuss this somewhere else."

"Aww..." Arza whined.

"Now now, Arza, just because I'm your mother doesn't mean you can hear classified information. I'll be right back." Lohra leaned down and kissed Arza's forehead before walking away with Rasalito.

Arza waited until they had turned the corner out the door to the training area and dashed after them, careful not to make any sounds. She looked around the corner just in time to see her mother's tail disappear into a doorway which was quickly closed and locked. She quickly ran to the door and, looking around to make sure she wasn't being watched, pressed her right ear to the door.

"...it's like the Amal'jaa know exactly where the patrols are going to be," Rasalito said, Arza's keen ears picking up on it easily.

"Are you saying there might be a traitor in our midst?" Lohra asked, sounding shocked.

Rasalito paused before continuing to talk. Arza figured he was nodding. "Someone is providing outsiders with patrol routes, schedules, classified information... if this keeps up the Amal'jaa will overrun the surrounding settlements."

Arza almost gasped. There's a traitor in the Immortal Flames?

"You haven't noticed any suspicious behavior from any of your troops?" he asked.

"Not that I know of," Lohra responded. "I'll keep a close eye on them."

"That's all I ask."

Arza backed off the door, hearing footsteps. Someone was coming. She quickly booked it to the training area again. By the time Lohra returned Arza was swinging her sword at another intact dummy, practicing her control by slashing at it and stopping just short of hitting the dummy.

Lohra wasn't fooled one bit. Her own ears picked up Arza's presence outside the meeting, but decided to let it go. She'd confront her about it later, but for now she decided to maintain plausible deniability in case anyone saw Arza. Her daughter was smart, she would know better than to parade around the city shouting what she had heard.

And besides, she didn't want to chastise Arza for listening on a secret meeting and getting private information. She didn't want to be a hypocrite.

It was midnight. Arza jolted awake suddenly. She groaned, rubbing her eyes. She was having the most wonderful dream... she was a Paladin, dressed in shining white armor, singlehandedly fighting back a swarm of Amal'jaa, standing protectively in front of the young Sultana.

Oh well, she thought as she got up to grab a glass of water. That dream's gonna be real one day.

As she tiptoed down the stairs of their rather sizeable house to the kitchen, she halted when she heard the door open and close.

After she got over her surprise, she peered down into the front room. No one was there. Which means someone must have just left. Is it mom?

Arza quickly moved towards the door and peered out. The heavy wind luckily disguised any noise her actions made, and sure enough, Lohra was quickly walking down the street, a heavy cloak disguising her. Frowning, Arza dashed inside and threw on whatever cloak she could find and ran back outside to pursue her mother.

Staying a good distance away from her mother, hiding in the shadows anytime it looked like she was looking around, Arza kept pace as Lohra began walking towards the poorer part of town, unnoticed by the beggars and the occasional Brass Blade patrolling the streets for criminal activity. Arza stayed hidden in the shadows, her presence hidden under the general hustle and bustle and chatter of whoever happened to be out at the time.

Finally Lohra turned into an alleyway. Arza hesitantly peered around the corner and saw a few Brass Blades standing in front of a doorway. Lohra stepped inside, the Brass Blades following. Arza steeled herself, preparing to drop some eaves once again. She quietly went to the door and put her ear up to it. It was harder to hear but she made out what they were saying.

"Why the long face, Lieutenant?" asked a voice, gravelly and condescending. "Don't tell me you're tired of this job yet."

"They're on to us," Lohra responded. "They noticed the missing documents and the Amal'jaa anticipating our movements."

Arza's eyes widened and her breaths began to quicken. They, they don't mean what I think they mean, right?

"Sounds like you're getting sloppy," a deeper voice, possibly a Roegadyn, accused.

"They would've noticed eventually," Lohra said. "Maybe it's best if we lay low for a bit."

"We're not the ones who need to lay low," the first unfamiliar voice growled. "No one cares about what us Brass Blades do."

"But you wouldn't want to kill the golden goose now, would you?"

"I suppose that's true. But we can't afford to slow down now. But on that note, do you at least have another golden egg for us?"

"Right here." The sound of some papers shuffling. "These are the patrol movements for the area around Black Brush Station for the next couple of weeks..."

Arza couldn't believe it. My mother's the traitor. She's the one who's leaking information to these corrupt Brass Blades! She didn't risk sticking around. She made herself scarce, bolting back home. Passersby looked at her but quickly went back to their typical routines.

With her hood up, no one noticed the tears streaming down Arza's cheeks. And Arza herself failed to notice the one pair of eyes that did watch her flee...

Lohra slowly opened the door and let herself in, the door creaking as it closed. She put her cloak away and leaned with her back against the wall, a hand on her forehead. She turned to go back up the stairs to her room when she came face to face with Arza, arms crossed, eyes red with spent tears.

"Fancy seeing you up this late, mother."

Lohra maintained her composure. "Arza? What are you doing up?"

"Oh, you know, getting a glass of water, making a midnight snack, following my mother to a secret meeting. You know, the usual."

Her mother's already pale skin went white as snow.

"Yeah," Arza said, her expression and posture not changing. "I know you're the traitor."

Lohra stood there and stammered for a bit, not caring about the fact that Arza basically just admitted to eavesdropping on that previous meeting. Finally admitting defeat, she sighed. "...Go get yourself a glass of water, I'll wait for you in the living room. If you're old enough to handle a sword, you're old enough to have an adult conversation."

Arza said nothing. She got her water and sat down across from Lohra, scowling.

"So... how much did you hear?" the Lieutenant asked.

"You were stealing information to give to that gang of corrupt Brass Blades, who I guess sell them to the Amal'jaa."

Lohra sighed again. "That sums it up."

Arza stood up, the water in her glass sloshing as she did so. "Why?!" she demanded. "Why would you put people in danger? What do you have to gain from it?"

"Arza, I-"

"How am I supposed to be a champion of justice if my mother's a traitor?"

"I'm trying to-"

"How much are they paying you, anyway?!"

"They aren't paying me," Lohra rushed out. "I don't want to do this!"

"Then why are you helping them?!" Arza pressed.

"Because they said they'd kill you if I didn't!" Lohra snapped, tears in her eyes.

In spite of how good Arza's ears were, the silence still deafened her.

She dropped the glass onto the carpeted floor, the water spilling out.

"Wh-what?"

Lohra sighed again. "They threatened you... they said that if I didn't give them a steady source of information to sell, they'd kill you and make me watch."

Arza was speechless. "But- b-but you're a Flame Lieutenant, and they're just Brass Blades, can't you fight them off?"

"No matter how skilled I am, there's a dozen of them. I can't take them all alone."

"Why don't you tell someone about the gang? Even if you couldn't fight them off alone, if you had backup-"

"If I told anyone about then, I'd also have to confess that I've been committing treason, and you know what the penalty is for treason..."

Oh yeah...

Arza couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I- I'm so sorry... I..." she forced a smile. "W-we'll think of something! I know, I'll- I'll become a Paladin! And I can take down the gang and conveniently miss you! That... that'll work, right?"

Lohra began to tear up. She leaned down and hugged her daughter, who was standing rigidly. "Oh, Arza… if only it were that simple..."

"We've got a bit of a problem," the tall, lanky Midlander Hyur said, walking into the room. "Our associate's daughter knows about her night job."

The group let out a gasp.

"What's the big deal?" One of them, a dark-skinned red-headed Miqo'te, asked. "She's just a kid. I don't think it's a threat."

"Well there's a saying," the tall, pale blue Roegadyn cut in. "Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead."

The Miqo'te whirled on him. "Are you seriously- We are NOT killing a kid!"

Before the Roegadyn could protest, the Midlander raised a hand. "I agree, I'd rather not have a child's blood on my hands."

"Then what are we going to do?" The Roegadyn asked. "We've basically been compromised. It's only a matter of time before the kid lets it slip."

"I'm aware of that. I'm sorry to say it," he said, smirking a bit, "I think it may be time to kill the golden goose after all."

*knock* *knock*

"Honey, can you get the door?" Lohra asked, polishing her sword.

"On it," Arza said, walking to the door. After the events of 3 nights ago, Arza and Lohra made an unspoken agreement to not speak of what happened and act like Arza was completely oblivious to the whole thing. The night was a very, very strange and depressing dream brought about by insecurity and expired tart, and they'd never speak of it again.

Arza had very little faith in her ability to do that.

She put that upsetting thought behind her as she went to answer the door. She opened the door and blinked in confusion.

"Captain Sasalito?"

The Lalafell was at the door with an uncomfortable expression on his face. "Good morning, Arza. Is... your mother home?"

"Right here," Lohra said, walking up to the door. "Can I... help... you...?" She trailed off as she noticed the two soldiers flanking him.

"Lieutenant..." he started, forcing the words to come out, "There was an... anonymous tip that we should investigate your activities, and combined with the evidence we have received... I'm afraid you're under arrest for leaking sensitive military information to outside forces."

Arza went stiff as a board. No... No no no nononono this can't be right, I was going to... to... Do what exactly? She couldn't remember, her plan was just a childish fantasy, an impossible escape from a horrific circumstance, she was breathing far too quickly she needed to lie down-

"Very well..." Lohra said, her eyes downcast. "I'll come quietly."

Arza came to her senses just in time to see her mother being led away by the two large Highlander Hyur. She rushed up and grabbed one of their arms. "No, you can't take my mother away, please, you don't understand-"

*THWACK*

One of the men slapped her, knocking her over. "Stay out of this, brat," he growled.

"Private, you are way out of line," Captain Sasalito scolded before looking at the girl apologetically.

"Don't," Lohra said to Arza. "Please, don't... you need to stay safe. I'm sorry."

Arza rubbed her stinging cheek, taking in what her mother said. If I tell them, those Brass Blades will come after me!

She just sat there and cried as her mother was taken away. Cried and cried for minutes on end. The worst part was, much as she'd like to pretend otherwise, Lohra did commit the crime she was accused of. And the cowards who forced her into it were going to get away scot-free, their pockets full from the fruits of her labor.

What kind of Paladin would lie down and accept injustice like that?

She didn't know where that voice came from. Was it her own? That couldn't be right...

Still, it was right.

She stood up.

Once I'm in the Flame Headquarters, they'll be able to keep me safe from the gang. I can't save my mother, but I can bring the ones responsible to justice!

With a determined expression on her face, she stepped out the door and gave chase, pursuing the group, heading towards the Flame Headquarters. She knew its location by heart. She sprinted down the street at top speed, past a group of curious onlookers, swerved around a Chocobo pulling a cart, and past an alleyway-

-Out of which came a hand that grabbed Arza and pulled her in.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The man was a tall, lanky Midlander, with reddish blonde hair that contrasted his black stubble, his breath smelling of smoke, dressed in a brown cloak. One of his hands was covering Arza's mouth so she wouldn't scream. The other held a knife at her throat.

No please don't kill me, please, I'm too young to die!

"Listen here, you little brat," he growled. "I don't want to kill a kid. But I'm not going to let you ruin all our efforts. If we see you anywhere near Flame Headquarters- or anyone with a Flame uniform, for that matter..." he pressed the cold steel knife against her throat to make his point, thankfully not pushing hard enough to break the skin. "I won't hesitate." He removed the knife. "You understand?"

Arza could only nod silently.

"Good. You're a smart girl."

With no other option, Arza booked it and ran the opposite direction, hyperventilating. She didn't cry though. Her tears were all gone.

What do I do now?! She thought frantically. I- I know! I'll go stay with Captain Sasalito! Surely he'll-

If we see you anywhere near Flame Headquarters- or anyone with a Flame uniform, for that matter...

Arza halted.

I'm all alone.

She dropped to her knees.

I'm. All. Alone.

As much as she wanted to cry, she couldn't.

"Excuse me, miss?" a concerned voice asked behind her. She turned around, looking at the source of the voice just long enough to register the Immortal Flame emblem he was wearing before she bolted away, leaving the man utterly confused at her horrified expression.

Arza shut herself in her home and before she knew what she was doing she had collapsed on her bed. She knew she would have to leave. The Flames would be back to investigate her mother further. She didn't want to invite the gang's wrath. The next morning, as soon as she awoke, she grabbed a large bag, threw in everything she thought she'd need, and snuck out of her house, staying in the shadows.

I'm... all... alone...

It was a week later. All her supplies had either been used up or stolen. She was relying on the kindness of strangers now.

Minus anyone in uniform of course.

She was kicking about the back alleys when she happened upon a discarded issue of The Mythril Eye. She normally wouldn't pay it any mind, but something in her told her to look through it.

Arza walked over, picked it up, and leafed through it.

She was still numb from the events of the past few days. As such, her only reaction was to drop the paper and walk in some direction, she didn't care, she wasn't paying attention.

The paper landed on the ground behind her, opened up to the article detailing her mother's execution.

Arza came back to herself about a minute later. For the first time in a week, she finally had it within her to cry. She just stood there, alone, her shoulders shaking as tears once again flowed down her face. She looked up, wiping her eyes, and blinked a few times at the sight.

"Hey... is it just me, or is Dalamud closer than it was yesterday...?"

It wasn't just her.

Five years since her mother was executed.

Five years since she was left without a home.

Five years since the Garleans attacked.

Five years since the moon was pulled out of the sky.

And here was Arza, now an adult, having finally found an honest job. It paid reasonably well and she actually rather enjoyed it. Even if the work itself was... less than dignified.

Ruby Road Exchange was one of the two main centers of commerce. It was nowhere near as prosperous and crowded as its sister, Sapphire Avenue. So to win some more patronage, the heads of the Exchange had decided to employ a number of scantily-clad dancing girls to entice more people to come, the idea being that they'd spend more money there if all the blood normally reserved for their brain was... somewhere else instead. Of course the dancers themselves quickly became the main attraction, but it did work as intended.

Arza was an adult now, but had some difficulties finding work. The fact that she had dropped off the face of the map, and was the daughter of a traitor to Ul'dah, meant her prospects weren't great. In spite of everything, though, she had one advantage. See, the past five years had actually been very kind to her, development-wise. By all accounts, she was a very attractive woman.

So... you can put two and two together.

Still, Arza didn't hate her job. It took some getting used to the provocative nature of the job, but beyond the occasional catcall, no boundaries were crossed by her audience, so she didn't really complain. In fact, knowing so many men would show up to Ruby Road just to watch her was strangely gratifying. She also found that she actually really enjoyed dancing. The finesse, the focus, it all reminded her of her earlier training with a sword. And she was good at it too, and not just because she was pretty. On top of that, it paid enough that she could afford a tiny apartment in the Goblet, Ul'dah's residential district. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

She still avoided the Immortal Flames like the plague though. She didn't know if the gang even cared anymore but it was too deeply ingrained in her now.

The sun was setting now and her shift was up. Arza found some privacy and changed into her normal street clothes, consisting of a green open blouse with blood red pants, and headed over to the Quicksand for dinner. It had a bit of a negative reputation for some of the more unsavory events that took place there, but it felt like a second home. She was climbing up the stairs to the entrance when she heard the sound of steel hitting steel. She whipped around in panic, but her heart calmed when she saw that it was the Brass Blades engaged in combat against some criminals.

Deciding it wasn't her problem, she continued up the stairs and into the tavern, past the tables filled with talkative diners and sat down at the bar. The tavernkeeper (and head of Ul'dah's Adventurers Guild) Momodi was a really good listener. She was practically Arza's best friend, though she internally knew that Momodi probably didn't see her the same way. As a bartender it was pretty much her job to be friends with whoever was in front of her at the time. Still, she was the closest Arza had to the real thing. She ordered her usual- a simple bowl of tomato soup- and began to go to town on it after throwing some gil Momodi's way.

So what if her work was demeaning? She no longer had to worry about where her next meal was coming from.

"How was work today?" Momodi asked as she polished the counter.

"It wasn't too bad," Arza replied between spoonfuls. "Usual crowd. Nothing too bothersome," she continued, taking another spoonful before going on. "Wish I could tell ya more."

"I'm glad to hear that," Momodi replied. She put down her rag and leaned on the counter. "You know... if you're looking for other work, better-paying work, I have a few friends who could use some help."

"I like my job though!" she protested. "Men wanting me, women wanting to be me, I'm living the dream. Besides, dancing is an art. And I'm an artist."

Momodi backed off, laughing. "So you've told me. Still... as much as you enjoy your line of work, do you really want to be there forever?"

She was taking a sip of her drink when the question came. She put her drink down and considered the question. She's right. I'm not going to be young and beautiful forever. But I just can't. No one would accept the daughter of a traitor. And what if the Flames find me? What if they find me?

"I'm sorry, I just... I just can't," she breathed, shaking her head.

"Does it have something to do with your fear of the Immortal Flames?" she asked, causing the Miqo'te to flinch. Indeed, she was well aware of Arza's habit of ducking out of sight whenever one showed up in the bar, rare as that was. "You never did tell me what that was about."

"And I never will," Arza said, eating the rest of her meal in peace.

She stepped out of the tavern as the sun was just below the horizon, a red tint across the dark sky. She booked it home, having gone hardly a few yalms when from her right she heard a slurring voice. "Hey, look, it'sh that danshing girl from earlier."

Oh great. She enjoyed the attention, but that didn't mean she enjoyed all the attention. Especially not when she was off the clock.

She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Hey, girlie, that was shome good danshing earlier today," the drunk Highlander managed, his eyes aimed half a foot below her head, directly at her open blouse.

Arza didn't flinch at the smell of alcohol on his breath. She was used to it. "You can look all you want," she said, winking. "But don't touch," as she lifted the hand off.

"How's about I s-show you a few movesh of my own?" the man said, with a look in his eyes that told her the guy had already made up his mind what was going to happen next.

"I'd, uh, I'd rather you didn't," Arza replied, backing away a bit as he leaned closer, bumping into someone behind her. This one was a Midlander, but he still looked pretty tough and he was also inebriated. How did he get behind me so fast?! She thought.

"Don't hog 'er to yershelf, man, I want shome!"

"Well too bad, you're not getting some," Arza said, her irritation and discomfort mounting. She attempted to turn to the side and keep going home but felt the Highlander's strong hands grab her shoulders.

"Oh, you ain't goin' anywheres!" he chuckled, pinning her to the ground in the corner by the steps. His drinking buddy began advancing towards her as Arza struggled to break free. Inwardly she cursed; even if she broke free, the Midlander was faster than her and the Highlander would overpower her.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted it- a sword. It was just lying on the ground. Her mind flashed back to the fight she had witnessed earlier that day. One of the criminals must have dropped that sword during the scuffle! Arza smiled internally. She had an escape plan. The Midlander was almost there when Arza managed to get her foot in position and in the next second, hard leather met soft, sensitive flesh.

The Highlander collapsed to the ground with a high pitched squeal as Arza quickly wormed her way out from under him and quickly got to her feet, dashing towards the discarded weapon before the faster one realized what was going on. Not daring to look back, she grabbed the sword by the hilt and spun around with it. The sword made contact with the Midlander, slashing him across the chest. It wasn't a very deep cut but it was enough to send him keeling back in pain.

"Why you little-!" the Highlander growled and charged towards Arza, who simply stood her ground, holding the sword. Years of practice flooded back into her as she effortlessly dodged his punch, using the momentum to swing the sword back into him, nicking him in the arm, following it up with a kick to the stomach. Arza suddenly remembered how she felt wielding a sword. It was exhilarating, and her movements bled into each other like dance moves. It felt beautiful.

Evidently not used to being the one in pain, the Highlander backed off and ran away. The Midlander was already hobbling away, glaring back at her before disappearing around the street corner.

Arza breathed a massive sigh of relief. She sat down on a nearby bench, dropping the sword near her and catching her breath. Her heart was pounding like a drummer who had too much sugar. I'm totally keeping this, she thought. The Brass Blades clearly didn't want it.

*clap* *clap* *clap*

Arza turned her head to the source of the clapping. Illuminated by the street lamp was a woman, clad in armor. She was a Highlander Hyur, her skin the color of desert sand, her hair blonde and curly. "That was impressive. Truly. I can't believe we haven't met."

The Miqo'te narrowed her eyes as the woman approached. "And you are?"

"Mylla Swordsong. Head of the Gladiator's Guild." She offered her hand to shake Arza's. After a moment of hesitation, she stood up and took her hand.

"Arza Ra'qael," she introduced.

"Nice to meet you, Arza. I saw you being attacked and I was about to step in, but... you evidently had it under control. I haven't seen someone handle a sword that gracefully in a long time..."

Arza raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to recruit me?"

"I guess I could have been more subtle about it... We've been looking for new talent in the arena, and I think you've got what it takes to excel."

Arza was about to turn her down, but then she looked back at her borrowed sword. It felt... nostalgic, wielding the thing. She might not have trained with one in a good long while, but her time as a dancer had kept her on her toes, honing the precision of her movements. She had to admit... it would be a nice change of pace.

"I'll think about it."

Mylla smiled. "Our door's always open."

And so she left, Arza standing alone on the side of the road, picking up the sword that had saved her. From her subconscious, a memory flooded back. The dream of a much younger, much more naïve Arza.

Everyone in Ul'dah will know the name Arza Ra'qael, the strongest and most beautiful champion of justice who ever lived!

Her experiences had driven that dream from her mind, and as far as she had been concerned for the last five years, that ship had sailed. But Mylla had made her an offer she didn't see any real reason to refuse. She picked up the sword and began the walk back to her apartment to sleep on it. But she knew deep down what she'd decide.

Maybe my old dream isn't so far off after all.