Quick reference for people not terribly familiar with this universe:
Hyur = human
Elezen = elf
Au Ra = tiefling
Roegadyn = half giant
Hrothgar = tiger men
Miqo'te = catgirls and catboys
Lalafel = chibi hobbits
Ilm = inch
yalm = yard
fulm = foot
malm = mile
Ardan Ardakim felt out of place the moment he set foot in Eorzea.
He was a young Xaela Au Ra, scarcely past his manhood ritual. Had he been standing, he would have stood a solid seven fulms tall, with a generous shaggy mane that fell around his shoulders and curved black horns that framed his face.
But at the moment he was hunched in a ball to fit on the narrow bench in a chocobo carriage bound for Gridania, capital city of the Black Shroud. He wished to train as a conjurer, and the city of the Elezen and Hyur in the depths of the forest was where the best conjurers dwelt. Only a few gil remained in his money pouch after the long sea voyage from Othard, and it worried him.
The carriage had few other passengers. Two teen Elezen slept with their heads leaning together, arms crossed. They were dressed in identical clothing and wore their hair in identical styles. Ardan couldn't tell if they were male or female, and didn't care to disturb them to ask.
The carriage owner sat on the front bench with a bottle of wine at his side. A Hyur with a gregarious manner, he looked Ardan up and down and said, "So, where you from?"
"T-the Azim Steppe," said Ardan. "Othard." He struggled to speak clearly in this new language, even though he had practiced it for months in preparation for his journey.
"Othard! Well then," said the man. "Coming to Eorzea to seek your fortune, eh?"
"I wish to help others," said Ardan. "I watched many warriors of my tribe die, and we had no healers. I wish to understand the healing arts so I can save whom I can."
"Worthy goal," said the man. "Let me tell you, the Conjurer's Guild is the place to go. The Elder Seedseer…"
The man kept talking, but his voice receded into the distance. Ardan's head suddenly ached as if pinched in a giant vicegrip. He winced and raised a hand to his head–
Ardan floated in a void sparkling with floating crystal fragments. Infinity spread about him, as if he had been set adrift in the aetherial sea. He gasped in sudden fear and flailed about, trying to return to his body. Was he dead? Had he suddenly taken ill and departed his body?
A voice spoke in the infinite sea, a woman's voice that resonated through his bones, heart, and soul.
Hear. Feel. Think.
He turned about, trying to see the speaker. Instead, he saw a figure robed in black hanging in the void. A red mask concealed its features, but the mouth was visible–a mouth with bared teeth.
Ardan raised his hand and found that a conjurer's staff had appeared in his hand. He brandished it at the dark figure. The figure swooped at him–
Ardan awoke with a start and gasp. The carriage still rumbled down a dirt road through a green forest. The twins still slept. But the carriage owner was leaning toward him with a concerned expression, one hand on Ardan's arm. "Hey, hey, you all right? Sir!"
"I'm all right," said Ardan, wiping sweat from his face. "I just … had a dream."
"You were sweating and shaking real bad," said the man. He sat back in his seat with a grin. "That'll be the aether. Eorzea's thick with it. The magic energy that composes all life, you know. The conjurers will teach you all about it."
Ardan nodded and adjusted his position in the cramped carriage. That voice still echoed in his head: Hear, feel, think. What did it mean? Who could he ask?
As the carriage rolled onward, shouts echoed through the trees. The chocobos pulling the carriage whistled in terror and stamped in their harness. The carriage master leaped out and ran to the birds to calm them before they tangled themselves in the straps. Beyond them, bird-men swarmed through the trees, swinging curved swords. They clashed with armored Elezen who emerged from the trees with swords and bows. Battle was joined not fifty yalms from the carriage.
Ardan leaped out and drew his own shortsword. There were children in that carriage, and he was not about to allow some band of feathered monsters drag them out and rip them to shreds. He ran to place himself between the carriage and the fight, only for the carriage to race away down the road as the chocobos fled. The carriage master swung aboard, yelling at the birds. Ardan was alone with a battle in a strange forest.
Hear, feel, think.
He charged into the fight with an Auri battle yell, startling the Elezen and bird men alike. Then the bird men moved to attack. He crossed swords with one and spun to deliver another a stunning blow with his tail, kicked the legs out from under a third, took a sword thrust across his leather gauntlet, then plunged his sword into the chest of a bird man. It screamed and red blood flowed.
Hear, feel, think.
Swords, claws, teeth, daggers, the dark figure in the red mask watching from a distance, laughing.
Ardan ducked behind a tree as arrows rained down, slaying the bird men en masse. One arrow slashed through his bicep, opening a deep furrow. He pressed the curve of one horn to the tree trunk and listened to the footsteps of the attackers and defenders, carried through the ground and up the trunk. Footsteps moved toward him from two directions. He leaped out of hiding and stood with sword raised, ready to strike.
Two Elezen in forest-green armor stood there, gripping bows, arrows held loose but not nocked. "Peace, adventurer!" one of them shouted. "We are Gridania's defenders. Calm yourself!"
Ardan slowly lowered his sword and stood panting. Hot blood poured down his arm, and he looked at it in surprise. "Is the danger past?"
"Yes, the Ixal band has been slain," said the nearest archer. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Ardan pressed a hand over his wound. "I'm … I'm coming to seek conjurer training in Gridania. But there were children on that carriage, so I sought to intervene–"
"Ah, right," said the other archer. "Well, the carriage is gone, so you're stuck with us. Come on, we'll get you patched up and see you into town."
Hear, feel, think.
Ardan kept thinking of that voice as he trudged up a hill toward the gates of Gridania the next day. His arm was cleaned and bandaged, and the soldiers had treated him kindly, if not with a little wariness. They didn't get many Au Ra in these parts, they had said.
Well, Ardan hadn't known many Elezen, so the feeling was mutual. As he climbed the hill among other travelers and carts, he reminded himself that this was an entire city of Elezen and Hyur, so he'd better get used to them in a hurry.
Gridania was a city built into the forest itself, with houses in the trees as well as built on the ground. Many of the houses had turf roofs with green grass growing overhead. The architecture was all gentle, flowing lines and spirals, as if the buildings had been grown instead of built. Many of the windows and doors were round instead of square, meaning Ardan had to duck to enter any of them.
He found the Carline Canopy inn and ducked inside. This was a busy place, the top floor being the inn, while the lower level, built into the side of a cliff, housed the city's airship landing. People moved in and out, or sat at tables with trays of food and drink. He stood in the doorway for a moment, resisting the urge to catch his tail in both hands and stroke the spikes on the end, as he had when a child while nervous. He was a man now, and childish behavior was behind him. He lifted his head, drew a deep breath, and approached the inn's main counter.
A kind-faced female Elezen stood behind this counter writing in a ledger, the tips of her pointed ears protruding through her hair. She looked up as he approached. Her gaze flicked across his horns and shaggy hair, lingered on the black scales that swirled across his jaw, then met his eyes. She forced a smile. "Yes, may I help you?"
"I w-wish to join the Adventurer's Guild," said Ardan, probably speaking too loudly. Since arriving in Eorzea, everyone looked at his hair and horns like that.
"Right." The woman turned the ledger around and slid it toward him. "I am Mother Miounne. Please fill out your information on these lines."
Ardan did so, forming the Eorzean characters with care. Ardan Ardakim, born 18 years ago in the Azim Steppes, Othard, seeking training as a conjurer.
When he finished, Mother Miounne spun the ledger back toward herself and examined it. "Ardan Ardakim. That wouldn't be an amusing moniker, would it?"
Ardan blinked. "It's my name, miss."
She looked at him again, taking in his Auri vest and breeches. "Well, you dress like you just got off the boat, so it must be your name. I've had adventurers try to register themselves with names like Hotness Kittenbutt."
Ardan snorted with laughter.
"Yes, well." Mother Miounne signed her own name. "There, your registration is completed. Hold on just a moment." She knelt behind the counter and there was a puff of aether. She rose to her feet and held out a card with his name on it. "This is your card. Present it to any of the city's guilds and they'll find you work."
"Including the Conjurers?" Ardan asked, stowing the card carefully in his money pouch at his hip.
"Possibly," said Mother Miounne. "If you prove that you have an attunement to the elements. If you do not, I hear the lancers have openings."
"Thank you, I'll try the conjurers first," said Ardan. "Pardon, but what are the rates for rooms here?"
"Ten gil per night," said Mother Miounne. "Fifteen gets you a complimentary breakfast."
Ardan had three gill left in his pouch. He bowed his thanks and left the inn. If he couldn't find work, then he could probably sleep on the ground somewhere. The gods knew he'd slept out on the Steppes often enough.
Gridania was a busy place, with people coming and going in all directions. He had entered in the newer part, but his wanderings carried him into the older part of the city, where the houses and shops were smaller and the trees bigger.
A guard directed him to the Stillglade Fane, a cave beneath the trees where the conjurers practiced their arts. Ardan passed rooms of sick or injured people lying in white beds, being attended by healers. His heart rose. This was what he wanted: saving lives, mending wounds. He could have saved so many of his people from death in the last clash of tribes.
He entered a wide cavern with walls, floor, and ceiling of wood. Not a cave, then, but a cavity in some giant tree. Students in robes stood here and there in groups, or meditated on floor mats. A group of students gathered around a young boy in a gray robe, and he spoke to them with the authority of a teacher.
Ardan approached this group, covertly looking around for an actual adult. Not seeing one, he waited until the boy in gray noticed him.
After a moment, the boy turned to him. "Yes, may I help you?"
He appeared to be a Hyur of about twelve years, his ears short and rounded, with a fair complexion, but a pair of horns protruded from the top of his head. Ardan tried not to stare at them. "I have t-traveled from Othard to seek training in conjury. To whom do I see about it?"
"I am E-Sumi-Yan, the head of the Conjurer's Guild," said the boy.
Ardan gazed at him, speechless.
"I assure you, I'm older than I look," said the boy. "These horns mark me as a padjal, a Hyur chosen by the elementals to speak to them. Now, I may be able to train you in conjury, or I may not. It depends on your ability to harness the elements around you. Have you any magical aptitude?"
"W-well," Ardan stammered, "I can grow crops in ground no one else can farm. And I've coaxed sheep back to life from near death. I don't know if it was magic."
"Hm, promising," said E-Sumi-Yan. "Go over there and pick up a shortstaff. Then go outside and conjure a small stone out of the turf. Bring it to me once you are finished."
Ardan obeyed these instructions, aware of the eyes of the other students upon him. Many of them were still children, and he towered over them like one of the forest trees. He smiled at them as he passed by, but they only stared harder.
Outside, Ardan found a quiet place between a couple of smaller trees and bushes. He steadied his mind, knelt, and touched the shortstaff to the ground. "Stone," he whispered.
A few pebbles welled up through the grass. Ardan tried again, concentrating harder, reaching for a good-sized rock. More pebbles appeared, and after a time, a rock the size of his fist emerged. He picked it up and carried it back to E-Sumi-Yan.
The boy looked at the rock approvingly. "Well done. Now I will give you three assignments to do around Gridania. I expect them to be finished by this time tomorrow. Report back once you're done."
The jobs were to summon stone, first to prepare many garden beds for planting, then to carry the stone across town to where the stonemasons were repairing a retaining wall. Ardan did this work in silence, trying to ignore the stares of the people around him.
He finished the work long before sunset, but E-Sumi-Yan had already left for the night. Glum and growing hungry, Ardan wandered back toward the inn, wondering if three gil would buy much to eat.
Dusk was falling and magic lamps flickered on in windows and along the streets. Ardan smiled, despite himself, and stood for a moment to enjoy the beauty of the place.
As he did, a man in black ducked into a space between two houses.
Ardan set out at a fast walk toward that spot. He'd seen that man in black in his vision in the cart, then again while fighting the bird men. What was he doing here, in the city? Surely he wasn't stirring up trouble right here.
He reached the two houses and peered between them. A narrow avenue led between the houses and through a set of close-growing trees, opening out on the next block. The dark figure was gone.
"Oh, you saw him, too," said a voice.
Ardan turned. A Hyur woman and a male Lalafel stood there, gazing up at him. The woman wore a mask over her eyes, but her voice was cheerful enough. The Lalafel was so short, his head barely reached Ardan's knee.
"Oh, that one's trouble, he is. No good to anyone. Stay away from him, mister Au Ra."
"Now Yda," said the Lalafel, "the poor fellow has a name. Be polite and introduce yourself."
"I'm Yda," said the woman brightly. "What's your name, mister Au Ra?"
"Ardan Ardakim," he replied gravely.
"Arthur whatsits," Yda repeated to her companion. When he glared at her, she said, "You know I have trouble with outlandish names."
"Pretty rich coming from someone named Yda," the Lalafel muttered. He turned to Ardan and held out a hand. Ardan had to bend nearly to the ground to reach it.
"Papalymo, at your service," said the Lalafel. "Might I ask why you were interested in the man in black?"
"I … saw him," said Ardan. "In the woods. He was driving the bird men to attack a carriage, I think."
"Was he, now," said Papalymo, but not as if he was surprised. He gazed up at Ardan thoughtfully. "Would you mind coming home with us tonight? I have a friend I'd like you to meet."
Ardan tried to decide how to decline this invitation, since he had no way of repaying their hospitality.
"We'll provide supper," Papalymo added, rightly reading Ardan's indecision.
Ardan badly wanted to accept. He looked down and clasped his hands. "I … I cannot repay you. I have not yet found employment."
"New, are you?" said Yda. "Wait, was it your carriage the man in black attacked?" She turned to Papalymo, dancing from foot to foot. "We could give him a job! You know we could!"
"That depends on our friend," said Papalymo. For being a small, round-faced Lalafel with child-like features, he wore a shrewd expression worthy of the craftiest merchant. He looked Ardan up and down. "Accept our hospitality tonight, Ardan Ardakim. You can repay us by doing a few jobs."
This was much more satisfactory. Ardan relaxed and nodded. "What jobs?"
"That will be decided by our friend," said Papalymo. "Come with us, please."
They made a strange group as they walked through the twilight together: the chipper Hyur woman, the waddling Lalafel, and the tall Auri man with his rangy stride. People continued to stare at Ardan, but now he was accompanied by the natives, the stares didn't last as long.
His escorts led him to a Gridanian neighborhood with houses built on the ground. Each house was surrounded by vegetables and flowers growing in carefully tended patches, and the sight of it lifted Ardan's heart. It reminded him of home.
Yda opened the door of one of these houses. They entered, Ardan having to stoop to avoid the doorway. Once inside, he had to hunch a little to keep from hitting his head on the low ceiling.
It was a nice house inside, with everything made of wood: furniture, floor, and walls. They entered a small living room, but a fire blazed on a hearth in the kitchen to their left. A woman moved about inside, preparing a meal.
"Minfilia, we're back!" Yda proclaimed, striding in. "And we brought a guest!"
"A guest?" said the woman. She turned and saw Ardan standing there, his head almost against the ceiling, a dark, exotic silhouette.
"Oh my," said Minfilia, eyes widening. She seemed about to cower behind the kitchen table, but gathered herself and her manners. "Welcome to my home, sir. Please sit down, supper is almost ready."
"His name is Arthur whatistit," said Yda, picking up a loaf of bread and beginning to slice it. "Au Ra who saw the man in black. We thought it best to bring him home tonight."
Ardan pulled out a chair and sat down, even though it felt slightly too small for him. His knees bumped the underside of the table. Minfilia ladled soup into a bowl from a pot over the fire and set it before him. Yda pushed a stack of bread slices across the table. Ardan inhaled the steam and approval, but waited until his hosts were seated with their own portions. Then Minfilia lifted a hand.
"Mother Hydaelyn," she said, looking toward the ceiling, "we thank you for this bounty, and ask for your continued grace in our struggles against the Darkness."
"Hear, feel, think," Yda and Papalymo said in unison.
Ardan flinched and dropped his spoon. He dived under the table to fetch it, and emerged with his face burning crimson. All three of his hosts stared at him.
"I'm sorry to offend you," Minfilia began. "Here, we reverence Hydaelyn, the crystal goddess…"
"N-no, it's not that," said Ardan. "We Xaela reverence Azim and Nhamaa, the sun and moon…" That wasn't what he meant to say. He halted, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I heard that voice. Hear, feel, think."
Minfilia exchanged a quick glance with Yda and Papalymo. "You did? What was it like?"
"It was …" Arden struggled for words. "A woman's voice. It spoke in the void. I tried to answer, but–but I knew not how."
"You've heard the voice of Hydaelyn," Minfilia said in hushed reverence. "Not many people do, but those who do are touched by her blessing. How often have you heard her?"
"Just once," said Arden. "Yesterday on the carriage in. Just before the man in black set the bird men on us."
He was forced to tell the whole story, but thankfully there wasn't much. Afterward he fell to sopping up his soup with the bread while the three others argued.
"That's almost ten sightings this week alone," said Papalymo. "The Paragons are focusing their attention in the Shroud, but why?"
"Tomorrow we must speak to the folk in the outlying settlements," said Minfilia. "The Paragons stir up chaos wherever they go and cannot conceal their tracks. And to attack a new adventurer?" She cast Arden a doubtful look. "How could they have known?"
"From the vision," said Arden. "We saw one another there."
"He was in your vision?" said Minfilia in shock. She peered at him for a long moment, as if trying to see past the horns and scales. Arden gazed back, wondering what she saw. A frightening foreigner, too big to fit her furniture? Or a weary traveler, homesick and lonely, who badly needed friends?
"I think we will have to keep in touch, Arthur," she said.
"Arden," he corrected hastily. "Arden Ardakim."
Minfilia shot Yda a look. Yda spread both hands. "You know how bad I am with names."
"Arden," Minfilia said, turning back to him. "You've come to Gridania to seek conjurer training, yes? Well, I invite you to stay here with us for a time. My real home is in Thanalan, and I'm only renting this house for a few weeks."
"Why do you extend such kindness?" he asked guardedly. "We do not know each other. How do you know I would not kill you in your sleep?"
Minfilia smiled, her blue eyes unwavering. "Hydaelyn does not speak to the unworthy. The fact that she has granted you a vision tells me that you are of the Light, as we are. A man of the Light would never harm his hosts. Neither, I think, would a man of the Steppe."
She had him there. This woman must be well educated indeed to know of the customs of the tribes in a far-off land.
Arden ducked his head. "You are right, my lady. The rules of hospitality state that no harm shall come to guest or host. I merely question your readiness to accept me." He gestured to his horns. "I must be frightening and outlandish to your eyes. Yet you offer me kindness because I heard a voice?"
"It's more than that," said Minfilia, glancing at her companions. She sighed. "But tonight is not the time to go into it. Yda, help me prepare the guest room. Papalymo, keep our guest company."
Minfilia and Yda arose and vanished into the back of the house, where Arden heard them knocking about and calling directions.
"Arranging the furniture, I shouldn't wonder," said Papalymo, sipping his soup. "You say you wish to know conjury, yet you wear a shortsword. What fighting discipline are you?"
"I fight in the classic Xaela style," said Arden proudly. "My buckler is in my pack, but I wear my sword at all times. I slew at least one bird man yesterday." He indicated his bandaged arm. "But your own Serpent Guard did that. Stray arrow."
Papalymo frowned and raised a hand. Glowing green aether surrounded his fingers, then swirled through the air and flowed into Arden's arm. The lingering ache of the wound began to fade.
"I know a bit of conjury, myself," said the Lalafel. "Useful magic. Have you talked to E-Sumi-Yan?"
"Yes, this morning," said Arden. "But by the time I completed the tasks he set for me, he had left."
"E-Sumi-Yan?" said Papalymo, raising an eyebrow. "The man lives in the Stillglade Fane. You should find him any time of the day or night. I do hope it's not connected with our man in black," he added, his voice dropping to a mutter.
"Who is the man in black?" Arden asked. "You called him a Paragon."
"We're not entirely certain what they are," said Papalymo. "There are more than one, and there is a hierarchy, with red masks being stronger than black. They are servants of Darkness and sow chaos and discord everywhere they go. The presence of these are most alarming." He lowered his hand and the aether flow faded. "I must ask you a question, Arden. Are you a gods-fearing man?"
"Yes sir," said Arden proudly. "I serve Azim, god of the sun, with my blood and sword." He deflated a little. "But he has never spoken to me before. Why does the goddess tell us to hear, feel, think?"
"We believe it has many meanings," said Papalymo. "It is an awakening. One sleeping cannot hear, or feel, or think. She calls you to a higher state."
"But why?" said Arden. "What does she demand?"
"She asks different things of each of us," said Papalymo. "In time, she may speak to you again to reveal her will." He slapped a hand on the table. "But tonight we must rest. Let's see if your room is ready."
Arden followed the diminutive Lalafel out of the kitchen and down a hallway. There they found Minfilia and Yda making up a bed. A low table had been set at the end and covered with cushions and blankets.
"So your feet don't hang off the bed," said Yda brightly. "You're so tall, it posed us quite a puzzle. And uh, do you use a pillow with those horns of yours?"
"I place a rolled blanket behind my neck," said Arden. The sight of them working so hard to make him a comfortable sleeping place embarrassed him until the blood rose in his cheeks. He smiled, even though he really wanted to cringe in shame he didn't understand. "Thank you for your efforts. I am most grateful."
The women beamed, which made him even more embarrassed. Then they bade him goodnight and left him alone, much to his relief.