Aaron fights, but he knows not why. He doesn't know who these men he cuts down are, only that they are his enemies. He doesn't know who these men alongside whom he fights are, only that they are his allies.
He runs forward and his axe gouges a trail in the ground. He spins on himself and the momentum carries his weapon in a deadly arc, three armored soldiers in its path, dead in one strike. He loses no time thinking, for there is no need; the battle carries him as his returning strike smashes two more enemies against the ground hard enough to bounce.
He catches a sword with the metal haft of his weapon, then pushes hard enough to send it flying from the soldier's hand, the blade of the axe bites deep in the flesh of the unarmed enemy and he has a second to himself.
He lifts his helmet's visor and looks up. He doesn't know why the moon is falling, but he is not surprised. He does know, he realises, he just can't remember.
He feels pain flare in his left eye, and the warmth of blood through the glove on the hand he brings there. He falls to his knees in pain, for he has been shot, his helmet has shattered, and there is something in the wound.
Aaron can't see, but he feels the aether change around him. He knows its familiarity and safety, but he cannot say why.
A small hand touches his face and the pain fades away, he can see again, and yet he can't see the one who healed him, they are hidden by a light shining behind them. He nods in thanks and moves to the frontline again.
There are others like them. Someone shoots arrows from behind him. Another prepares a spell. The last one runs beside him, sword ready, shield raised. Enemies fall before him, laid low by the archer and dead where they stand. The swordsman and he carve a path forward, to a nightmarish machine that is itself suddenly engulfed by merciless flames.
He cannot remember them, who they are. And yet he knows them, for they are his comrades, and he trusts them.
That's when the moon shatters and it comes out. Aaron can do nothing, but watch as the god freed from the moon awakes from its slumber to rain death and destruction upon the battlefield, and the realm with it.
He's going to die, he thinks, and it upsets him. Those unknown companions are going to die, and that upsets him even more.
They are saved, a great magic shield protects them from the raging hellfire outside, and he knows they shall not fall this day. He turns around, and he sees the Elezen, old and familiar and powerful.
The shield breaks, but not for very long. He watches as the mage struggles, he sees the barrier reform and break again, and for the moment the onslaught ceases
Aaron sees the Wyrm, image of power, roaring at them, at him. This is not over. Pillars of Light rise in the distance, all around the realm, they strike back, the pillars become a new prison.
The terrible God shatters it before it can take shape. They have lost, they have failed. But this is not over.
A spell engulfs him and he looks at his hands. All he sees are shadows before a light, the same light that hides his companions from his eyes.
And he knows, this is not over.
Spectrum
The soul floated in a sea of stars and wondered what this was. It felt so much like a dream, yet in the depths of its being, the soul knew this to be reality.
Rebirth, the soul thought, or a new beginning at the very least, though it knew not where that thought came from. The soul accepted it, perhaps it came a bit more easily than it should have, but what would come of denying what was happening? It accepted.
A silhouette came into existence before the soul's vision, a smooth body that showed no characteristic, like a blank canvas.
The soul reached to it and the body's arm reached back. Its body, the realisation came easily. This was a new beginning, and this was its new body, to make as it desired.
A woman, the soul decided. Sex had never mattered before, that trivial thing; it was its own person and that was enough, but it had been a man for nineteen long years. And it was curious. It would be a woman.
Idle images floated in the soul's thoughts. Long elfin ears, cute little hands, feline fangs and tail, reptilian horns and scales, powerful frame, soft lapine ears, thick fur, and familiar comfort. This and more came and went.
It had always held a fascination for scales, and so it grasped that image. The silhouette changed. The soul's body flowed into a petite frame. A tail grew from the base of its spine, and horns crowned the sides of its head.
She recognised it, she realised with delight. Yes, an Au Ra would please her greatly.
The first adjustment came easily. She had been tall before, and while she knew she could hardly be as tall now, she still willed her body to become as tall as it could. She only felt herself grow a couple of inches, but it was already that.
She brought her hands to her chest and noticed how it felt in her balance. Too big would make it awkward to walk, she realised, but… She liked the idea of noticeable curves, not too big, not too small. She saw herself blush a little as she gently prodded her chest to grow until the point that felt and looked just right. Just barely more than she could hold in her dainty hands.
Her focus shifted to the rest of her body, and as it did, her skin darkened until she bore the slightest hints of a tan. Her tail grew to comfortably fit her balance, the unfamiliar white limb swishing left and right at her calves, air rustling between the four soft spines of the thagomizer at the end.
Her hair came easily, she'd kept it long even before, and the silken strands settled into long flowing locks, swept into an intricate braid she'd never have managed by herself, before it faded into a light pink she liked a lot, complemented by darker, red highlights.
Her face was just as easy: fuschia eyes stared back at her, with a clearer limbal ring on the right, in a heart shaped face with scales on the cheeks and between the eyebrows. She poked experimentally at the horns replacing her ears now, fingers running along the slight curve to the point facing behind her. She could get used to that, she thought with a smile that stretched her thin, pink lips.
She stepped back, so to speak, and admired her work of the past minutes, her eyes lingering with delight on the scales over her skin. Yes, she could definitely get used to it.
She felt ready, ready for whatever was to come.
And yet… an indelible something was missing. Something important. She couldn't see what it was, but then it hit her. She needed a name. She was not who she'd been before, and it felt…
Important. It felt important to have a new name.
Raen names followed a custom, she knew, even if she didn't know how she held the knowledge of that custom.
A few ideas came to mind, most put aside and discarded, until one brought a smile to her new face. As soon as she chose her name, she felt herself fill her new body. And begin to fall.
Tsukuyomi no Mikoto was ready for what was to come.
"Hear...Feel...Think."
Spectrum
"EVIL BREAD, GET AWAY!" Giant Storm yelled as she jolted into wakefulness, falling out of her seat in a tangle of flailing limbs.
She fumbled for a moment, doing her level best to remember where she was as the floor beneath her creaked and shifted with the waves. Right. A ship. She was on a ship, bound for Limsa Lominsa.
She was not unaware of the other passengers looking at her oddly, a myriad of eyebrows raised and laughs hidden.
"What!? Never seen a woman wake up from a nightmare about murderous sourdough?" The Roegadyn snapped, brushing her dreadlocked hair out of her face as she hauled herself back onto the bench. Most of her fellow passengers flinched back, though a brave few souls kept staring.
Sighing, she settled back against her bag, drifting back into her dreams.
At least, until the pirates attacked.
Spectrum
"Lass, you feeling alright?" This was the first thing she heard as an older looking man shook her awake. Not being quite lucid yet, paired with not knowing who the man was or where they were, resulted in her doing the logical thing and bolting up from her seat, hitting her head on the cart's frame.
Clutching her head at the sudden pain, two things became apparent. For one, she was taller than she remembered. Two, since when were her ears on top of her head?
The combination of ache to the head and apparent physical changes woke her up fully, and a quick glance at her surroundings revealed a trio of familiar faces.
"Well fuck. I'm in Eorzea."
Of course, the natural progression of things was for an arrow to whizz past her head and lodge itself into the wood of the cart.
Of course.
Owl: Well, here we are. A project over a year in the making between the three of us. Here's to a long journey. This train has no brakes because we've replaced them with nitro boosters.
Wombat: We have no destination, we have no brakes, we're going to ride this motherfucker until we run out of tracks and the wheels fly off.
Fox: Joking aside this started as me madly rambling about 14 on Discord, I never expected it to get here.
Wombat: In the words of a great man: please enjoy.