Realm of Twilight
Chapter 2: Meetings and Partings
Disclaimers: I do not hold any claim over Final Fantasy XI or any other of the Final Fantasy games. The only character that I own is Ylinestra, my White Mage.
Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana'diel, one White Mage must discover the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight….for you, Ashy.
Authors Note: Here it is, guys. This is the promised story. Realm of the Twilight was written for my friends in Final Fantasy XI. I decided one day that I would like to make up a fictional story that included real people, somewhere. I appreciate all comments and reviews, but I am not seriously going to try and make this the best fiction on this site. Still, feel free to contact me with any questions or suggestions. This is for you, Ashy.
Side Notes: These characters are not the exact same ones as the ones in Final Fantasy XI. I mean this in respect to their appearances. As some of my friends chose the same characters, hairstyles, and hair colors, I have decided to change the physical appearances of some of them, including my own, Ylinestra. Just so you know, when you see a description of male Hume with green hair down to his feet, or something to that regard.
Vivli: "I can't equip it" is my way of rationalizing certain aspects in the game that make no sense in real life. For example, it's completely true that a person would just be able to slip on the Ring—however, in Vana'diel, some jewelry and such are used for quests, and are not equipment pieces. The Ring of Divination is like such. Later on, Ylinestra will put on the Ring, but it won't contribute to his status in anyway. Such, it's not a piece of equipment. I hope this explanation made some sense, because reading back, it doesn't make that sense much to me.
"Hey, watch out!"
Ylinestra whirled just in time to avoid the large swipe of a rusty curved blade. The Young Quadav roared and charged at the White Mage.
"Ugh, can't I get a moment to replenish my MP?" Ylinestra growled angrily before stepping into fighting position. Even before he struck his first blow, Ylinestra realized he would be bloodporting back home. He had used all his MP in the previous fight, and his HP was already reduced to more than halfway. This was just not going to be his day. He had only just reached level 7, too! And considering how long it took to level any mage class—
Ylinestra cried out as his staff was ripped from his bruised hands and thrown several feet away from him. The Young Quadav screeched and flew at the hapless White Mage, crashing into him with a full body tackle. Ylinestra landed on his back, gasping loudly as he tried to desperately regain his breath. The only thing his mind was able to comprehend was the scream that tore its way up from his throat as he stared up into burning red eyes.
"Here!"
Suddenly the Young Quadav had pulled itself off of him. Ylinestra finally felt the breath that had escaped from him during his fall come rushing back into him. Still, Ylinestra lay on the ground for a few more mind numbing moments. Finally he was able to pull himself into a sitting position, where he caught a glimpse of the Young Quadav giving a last painful shout before falling to the ground in defeat.
Ylinestra urged his body to stand on its feet. Unfortunately, his body stubbornly still refused. The White Mage sighed.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Ylinestra, startled, turned the top half of his body around to find himself staring up into a Hume male silhouetted against the sun. The White Mage gasped at the blinding light, quickly bringing his right hand up to shadow his sensitive eyes.
A rich baritone voice laughed. "Here, take my hand."
Take my hand and step into the Twilight….
Ylinestra slowly realized that his savior was holding out a hand for him. The White Mage gratefully accepted it and was pulled up from his dusty seat, coming face to face with a Red Mage.
The Red Mage smiled and gently dusted off Ylinestra's arm in a show of companionship. He laughed again and ran a hand through his closely cropped blonde hair.
"Wow, lucky I was passing by," he stated serenely. "Darn beasts, they'll agro pretty much anything." He paused, scratching his chin. "Well, you should probably get back to town, alright? Be careful." The Red Mage nodded before turning away and jogging up the rocky slope.
"W-Wait!" Ylinestra stammered, at last finding his voice. The Red Mage stopped and turned back around to face him. The White Mage quickly scrambled over the rocks to stand next to the Red Mage.
"T-Thank you for saving me!" Ylinestra exclaimed, holding out his hand. "My name is Ylinestra, Bastok citizen and proud of it!"
The Red Mage stared at him, before almost shyly taking his hand in a firm handshake. His facial expression softened into something more whimsical.
"Nice to meet you, Ylinestra. Call me Uuyui."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…Congratulations, Ylinestra! You are now a party-warty of Windurst!"
Ylinestra jerked awake from his daze to blearily stare at the beaming TaruTaru. It took him a few more second to realize that the citizenship leader was holding out his packet of transcript papers. Ylinestra quickly took the proffered paperwork in an attempt to redeem himself. The TaruTaru just smiled, however, and held out his hand.
"We can always use another magey-wagey here in Windurst," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Ylinestra!"
The White Mage offered the friendly TaruTaru a rather shaky smile and shook the proffered hand, unable to shake off the feeling that something had gone terribly amiss.
"So…how is it in Windurst, Ylin?"
Ylienstra laughed lightly over the linkshell pearl as he rummaged through his Mogsafe. "I can't even begin to describe it, Ashy. It's simply amazing. I've spent all day exploring Windurst and there's still so much to see!"
Ashy laughed, a little forcefully. "Well, I'm happy for you. We…we all really miss you, Ylin."
Ylinestra let out a whimsical sigh. "I miss you guys too. How are things back ho—back in Bastok?"
"Same old, same old. We finished Mission 3-1 today! Those Copper Quadav didn't stand a chance. It was real easy with Arbenzio casting spells every which way. That guy…."
Ylinestra laughed to himself as he finally found a dark crystal. The White Mage lovingly stroked the petals of a beautiful pink flower before taking the crystal over to a sapling, which was not doing as well. The leaves had wilted a little, and the stem was bent over. Ylinestra carefully planted the crystal inside the pot, feeling his mind start to slip away. He could just imagine Arbenzio crazily shouting spell after spell at the unsuspecting Quadav. Ashy would be trailing behind him, swinging his sword against anything that came across his path. Ticia and Knopfler would, no doubt, be trying to calm things down a bit, to no avail of course….
"Hey Ylin, speaking of mages, there was a weird Windurstian running around Bastok today."
Ylinestra snapped out of his musings, zoning in on this odd news. "Weird? How did you know he was a Windurstian?"
The White Mage could clearly hear Ashy shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Well, he was an Elvaan, but his cloak had the sigma of Windurst woven onto it. He just felt…weird. He looked like a big storm cloud, really, flying all over town and looming over people."
"Did you find out what he was doing in Bastok?"
"…."
"….Of course you did, you're Ashy."
"And?"
"sigh Forgive me, Oh Great One, for doubting you!"
"You are forgiven."
Ylinestra rolled his eyes, clearly able to see Ashy's tongue sticking out at him in his mind's eye. "Well?"
"Actually, I only found out because he literally grabbed me from where I was standing, in front of the Auction House doing absolutely nothing mind you, and dragged me over to the side. Said he was doing a survey about mages, and asked me a few questions."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Little things, like why I decided to be a Red Mage, and whether or not I planned to keeping training it into the higher levels."
"That's strange."
"Sure is. He got kind of weird, though. He started asking me about monsters I had fought recently, particularly any Notorious Monsters. Asked if I had gotten any weird drops from them, too. Absolute bogus. I finally realized that he was a scammer, probably trying to see if I had anything worthwhile to steal. So I told him to shove off or I would do it for him."
This time a picture of a maniacly laughing Ashy pushing an kind elderly Elvaan folk into the freezing waters underneath Bastok Markets forced its way into Ylinestra's mind. "Well, I'm glad nothing happened to you."
"Thanks, Ylin. Hey, you gonna visit any time soon? We're staring Mission 3-2 soon, we could use a White Mage—"
"I'm sorry Ashy, I don't know if I'll be able to make it over there anytime soon. There's still a lot of paperwork I need to finish up, and my Moogle still hasn't transferred everything from Bastok yet."
"…A-Ah, I understand, Ylin. Well, I guess we'll talk to you later, then?"
Ashy's voice, Ylinestra dully noted, had suddenly dropped in pitch and passion. His bland tone didn't fit the usually ecstatic Red Mage at all.
"I…yeah, I'll see you later, then. Hey Ashy—"
The empty space that greeted his ears informed Ylinestra that his friends had shut off his connection with the linkshell. He too also turned off his pearl, barely noticing that the bright sunny sky outside had been clouded over with gray.
"Hey, over here Ylin!"
Ylinestra swiveled around on the spot, laughing as he spotted Knopfler on the bridge over the North Gustaberg waterfall. Vareesa was with him, the playful Mithra practically jumping up and down in excitement. Standing next to Knopfler was two Humes, one a Red Mage, the other a Warrior.
"Sorry I'm late," the White Mage panted as he came skidding to a stop in front of his friend. "You know Bastok Markets this time of year—it's a madhouse. I was barely able to get out alive!" Ylinestra took a deep breath, also taking time to smooth back his usually silky but now ruffled golden hair.
"That's alright, Ylin," Knopfler said, coming forward to slap his friend on the back. "In fact, you gave me some time to round up some help. Ylinestra, this is Ashy and Ticia."
The Red Mage stepped forward with a loud exclamation of "How 'ya doin' there, Ylin!", accompanied by a furious whirlwind of shaking hands. Ashy looked very similar to Uuyui, Ylinestra realized in surprise. The same closely cropped blonde hair for sure, but Ashy had deep green eyes, whilst Uuyui's eyes were more of a molten silver.
Ylinestra freed his hand from the death grip of the other, rubbing it slightly. "I-It's very nice to meet you, Ashy," he managed to say, and was rewarded by another beaming smile.
The brunette Warrior stepped forward, also holding out her hand. "My name is Ticia, as you may have already guessed."
Ylinestra accepted this hand as well, after a slight moment of hesitation. Their hands connected.
Ylin….
The White Mage gasped and pulled back his hand, unconsciously cradling it against his chest. Ylinestra felt his face flush as he met Ticia's eyes—her own face reflected the shock he felt, and something very suspiciously close to recognition—
"Ylin, Ticia, let's get going! We need to get a head start if we even want a chance on getting enough Fetish parts for everyone!"
Ylinestra snapped himself out of revere and followed Ashy down the road. He subtly glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Ticia, who was blatantly staring straight back at him. The White Mage held her eyes for a moment longer before quickly returning to the task at hand…
…Which was, apparently, healing an overexcited Red Mage who had just run head on into a Young Quadav. Ashy shouted with glee and drew out his sword with a show of relish. The others joined the war cry and charged the beast, Vareesa provoking it.
"How about saving our strength for when it counts, namely inside the Mines, eh Ashy?" Knopfler suggested over the chorus of clanging swords and casting of spells.
"But that ruins half the fun!" Ashy protested as the Young Quadav fell to the ground. "This is mentally preparing us for the challenge that lays ahead of us, Knopf. Battles before the actual battlefield are stimulating and can…oh…" The Red Mage trailed from his thought, his hand inching towards his sword, as another Young Quadav spawned not three feet away from him.
Ylinestra swiftly grabbed Ashy by the arm and began forcefully propelling him towards the entrance to the Palborough Mines. "Go!" he laughed, "or we'll be here for weeks to come!"
Ashy regretfully lowered his hand, scowling. "Fine, fine," he muttered, a hint of a pout forming at his bottom lip. "Babies."
"What's this about?"
"Pleasey-weasy do not worry yourself about this, Ylinestra. The Chiefy-Wiefy of immigrating persons just wished to have a few words with you, is all."
Ylinestra sighed and nodded his head in acceptance. The TaruTaru bowed briefly and trotted out of the grand office, closing the massive oak doors behind him with some effort. The White Mage swung his legs a little as he sat in the humongous plush seat that was settled in front of a wide oak desk. The office was decorated in silver and black, with red trimmings along the window that overlooked Windurst Walls.
What caught the White Mages eyes, however, were the rows upon rows of magical tomes and spell scroll stacked in an enormous bookcase, placed against the west side of the room. Ylinestra mentally slapped himself as his hands involuntarily inched towards them. The only thing that kept his sanity from snapping was the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Ylinestra barely had time to straighten his back and assume a look of nonchalance before a silk-clad Elvaan came striding into the room.
Dressed entirely in black silk, this Elvaan practically oozed authority from his persona. He wore an obsidian robe that was tied at the waist with a long Ocean's Rope. The Windurst sigma was displayed clearly over his heart, the green clashing with the solemnity of the rest of his ensemble. His silky black hair was fixed in a tight braid, which came down to right above his waist, much like Ylinestra's. In fact, with the White Mage wearing a simple White Tunic and Slacks, the two looked as opposite as night and day.
The Elvaan circled around the desk and sat down on the other side, all the time eyeing the now nervous Hume. There was something other than authority the Elvaan displayed—something more sinister. Whatever it was, Ylinestra had already decided not to trust him.
"You are White Mage Ylinestra, correct?"
The rough voice of the Elvaan caught him of guard. Ylinestra quickly nodded his agreement with the statement. The Elvaan too nodded, and held out his hand to the White Mage.
"My name is Marrok, Ylinestra. I specialize as a Dark Knight."
Ylinestra smiled shakily, before gritting his teeth and grasping the other's cold hand in a quick up and down shake. Surprisingly, or at least surprising to him, he felt nothing other that the unnatural coolness of Marrok's hand. Ylinestra silently berated himself as they let go of each other, wondering what is was he had been expecting.
"Ylinestra, forgive me for calling you here so abruptly," Marrok said, leaning back against his chair. "You see, I just had a few questions for you, if you would be so kind to answer."
"Of course," Ylinestra agreed, wanting only to get this over with.
Marrok's onyx eyes seemed to have grown narrower and shaper in intensity. Ylinestra shivered as those eyes scanned over him in a well-practiced assessment. The Dark Knight seemed more interested now, for some reason. Ylinestra felt a paranormal coldness wash over him.
"Have you ever seen the Twilight, Ylinestra?"
The White Mage stared at Marrok, now fearing for the Elvaan's sanity. The Twilight? All he was able to glean from that was the capital T on the word, and figured it was probably some natural phenomenon or yearly occurring event.
"I'm afraid not," he finally settled on answering.
Marrok nodded again, much like a father would to a favorite son. "And have you ever heard of anything called the Four Artifacts?"
Ylinestra shook his head. "I have not, sorry."
The Dark Knight nodded yet again and closed his eyes, his head slowly bobbing back and forth. Suddenly he stood upright, toppling his chair over. Ylinestra had a fraction of a second to understand what was happening before Marrok had grabbed his upper arm in a vice grip and dragged him halfway across the room.
"That's all I needed to know, Ylinestra. You are free to return to your Mog House now."
"Wha-What?" Ylinestra shouted, outraged. The Elvaan had asked him all of two questions and was now throwing him out? Marrok's eyes had become mere slits, he looked so angry. A map of Giddues, lying on top of an unobtrusive desk to their right, burst into flames as they passed by it. Ylinestra could only wonder at the Elvaan's abruptchange of moodbefore he was pushed out the double doors.
The only thing that stopped his fall was the sudden presence of an arm around his middle, steadying his center of balance. Ylinestra angrily pushed himself away from the other to smolder at the large doors, which were now closed. The White Mage was considering pounding at the doors until the upstart Elvaan answered when a large hand came to rest on his shoulder.
Ylinestra turned abruptly to stare at yet another Elvaan. This one was even taller than Marrok, and was clad in a dark blue vest that complimented his Black Slacks. His silver hair framed a kind looking face, where laughing sky blue eyes looked down at him. He bent down next to Ylinestra's ear.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," he whispered, as if the two of them were sharing some great secret. "He has his mood swings—half of us here still believe he's a girl. He sure can act like one sometimes."
Ylinestra felt his anger at being so abruptly and unfairly dismissed slip away. He laughed softly and stepped back slightly to get a better look into the smiling face.
"Thanks for calming me down, I probably would have gotten myself killed if you hadn't," he joked, blushing as he realized how close that would have come to pass if this Elvaan hadn't stopped him. "And uh…thanks for breaking my fall, too. I-I'm not the most graceful of people, you realize."
The Elvaan's smile broadened, and he stuck out his gloved hand, the other keeping a tight hold on a packet of scrolls tucked underneath his arm. Ylinestra gladly accepted it.
"You're Ylinestra, right? My name is Azazer. Nice to meet you."
Ylinestra smiled. "Likewise."
Azazer chuckled before tucking the scrolls tighter under his arm. "Well, I better get going. If I don't get these to the boss soon, he'll go into his cranky child that just woke up from a nap mood." Azazer winked. "And between you and me, I would prefer his fire-breathing pissed mood than this one. He worse than any child I've seen."
'I'm glad all Elvaan aren't as stuck as Marrok,' Ylinestra thought, surprised to feel a genuine laugh force itself out of his throat. The Elvaan chuckled again under his breath too, nodded to Ylinestra, and used his shoulder to push the double doors open, quietly slipping inside.
The White Mage caught a glimpse of Marrok staring out the grand window before the doors closed.
How could this have happened?
All thier hard work, weeks upon weeks of toiling in and out of the harsh mines, and all of it was coming down to this.
Blast Bastok. Couldn't their soldiers get their own Fetish parts?
Ylinestra gripped the stem of his Ash Staff tighter, hugging it to his body, as he crouched behind the large over bearing boulder. Ticia and Sylphyin had already returned to their Home Points. Knopfler lay a couple feet away to his right, dead. He was probably blaming himself for this massacre as best as someone could in the half awake, half asleep mind set one experienced when they died. A few more moments—Knopfler's body disappeared, the faint glimmer of a teleport alighting the dank tunnel briefly before plunging him back into almost absolute darkness.
Suddenly a warm body appeared next to him. Ylinestra cried out and lashed out with his staff, only to have it blocked and brought down to where he could see his assailant's face.
Oh…not an assailant, an alliance. Aarin's face was still fairly new to him, as they had only just met while forming an alliance to hunt Quadav for the Fetish parts. They had been doing fine until a Veteran Quadav had stumbled directly into Ashy, who had been leading the group, immediately aggroing him. At their low levels, they had been barely able to defeat the great beast when some Young Quadav had spawned.
That was when the massacre started.
With all of them exhausted from the fight with the Veteran, none of them had been able to withstand the force of Young Quadav that descended upon them. Even worse, nearby Quadav had heard the commotion and joined in the fray. Soon they had been absolutely scattered amongst the long winding tunnels on Palborough Mines. Ylinestra had been blindly following Ashy when the Red Mage had turned around, grabbed him around the middle, and thrown him over the side of the ridge, about a ten-foot drop. Ylinestra involuntarily covered his ears with his hands, unconsciously trying to rid his head of Ashy's scream as the Quadav charged him from both sides.
"Ylin!" Aarin whispered fiercly, shaking the White mage roughly. Reciveing no response, the Warrior upturned Ylinestra's face and slapped him. Ylinestra gasped as the stinging pain brought him back from his nightmare, only to find that he was still in it. A dry sob racked its way up his throat.
"No, none of that now, Ylin!" Aarin hissed, continuing to shake Ylinestra back and forth. "C'mon, stay with me!" The Warrior let out a shuddering gasp of his own, before slumping against the rock, his shoulder touching Ylinestra's, offering what little comfort he could. He too held his sword ready in front of him—in all actuality, he probably wouldn't be able to let go if he wanted too. Aarin experimentally flexed his fingers, rightly finding them glued to the hilt of his sword with dried blood. He sighed again.
"Well," the Warrior muttered, "at least we got that head you needed, eh Ylin?" Aarin paused, nudging the silent mage with his elbow. "We'll come back later, for revenge. But right now…I really want to go home."
Ylinestra glanced up at the tunnel wall in front of them, where the faint shadows of the Quadav were moving restlessly. They were getting bigger.
"First thing I'm going to do is take a nice hot bath. Ah gross, I'm covered with blood. Sick. Yeah, definitely gonna need that bath."
A Veteran Quadav roared, its great nostrils sniffing the air, before it suddenly caught the stench of men. It cried out and charged. The horrendous chorus of Quadav growls and keels vibrated throughout the entire Mines, echoing and bouncing off how every nook and cranny.
Ylinestra continued to stare at the wall, where the shadows grew even larger. The large curved swords that the Quadav carried were now clearly defined in their dark counterparts. For a moment, Ylinestra imagined that he could see every jagged tooth in every Quadavs' mouths on the shadows.
"I hope Ticia made a batch of her brownies, too. I'm starved."
The White Mage turned his misted gaze onto Aarin, who was also staring at the shadows. The snuffling and loud beating of footsteps was nearly deafening now. Their roars and cries echoed solely in this corridor—they were coming up fast. Aarin winked once, and raised his sword slightly.
Ylinestra nodded and bowed his head over his staff, one tear slipping down his cheek.
Ylinestra screamed as he was jolted out of his nightmare. Lighting crashed and the White Mage screamed again, still caught in the thresholds of his terrible remembrance. Clutching his hands over his heart, Ylinestra bent over his middle, gasping in great gulps of air as if he had run from Norg to Bastok and back again.
Ashy's scream was still echoing in his head. Habitually tossing his long hair back, he climbed out of bed, shivering as his bare feet touched the floor and the warm blankets receded off his silk nighttime ware. Reaching the sink, he carefully washed his face, effectively smoothing away the tears that had arisen from his dream. His stomach grumbled just then, and his mind agreed that one of Ticia's delicious brownies would put his subconscious to rest. He padded over to the pantry and threw open the sliding door, revealing his Moogle, who was desperately trying to escape the ropes tied around its wings and appendages.
Ylinestra was whirled around suddenly by a large hand on his shoulder, and was able to register two horrible crimson eyes before everything was plunged into absolute darkness.
/hides from audience. Don't kill me! I apologize if this chapter seems very abrupt and unfocused. I wanted to create a sense of urgency and regret in this chapter, for reasons you will find later. However, in my haste to do so, I think I rushed everything a little too much, and maybe made some points unfocused and unclear. Till the next chapter, my friends!
