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Herein I commit the chronicle of the traveler. Shepherd to the stars in the dark.
More
mr-rowboat art? Of a FFXIV flavor? Must mean another little blurb to go with it!
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
Lips sputtering, Paige cupped his hands to his mouth. The Rogue's misting breath, trailing from between his teeth, washed over his frigid fingers as he skulked about. “Seven hells...” he spat with a shiver as he power walked out of Ishgard's snow caked and utterly empty Aetheryte plaza. With the colossal crystal bathing his back in a gentle pale blue glow he quietly and quickly stalked the streets.
SHFFFFFFFFFFFF
Save the crunch of his own footfalls, and the gentle flick of flakes papping against his shoulders, not a sound or soul was to be heard on the otherwise empty streets. Not even the Forgotten Knight, a home away from home for the inebriated and insomniacs alike, stirred at this ungodly hour.
Twas now or never.
Reaching into his pocket, and fetching forth a curious glass relic, Paige clasped the strange stained mixture of an hour glass and goblet between his hands. White knuckling and holding onto it for dear life he steeled his nerves. Gah. Hells if he knew how to use this damned thing.
“Nothing to it but to do it,” he mulled under his breath as he cupped the curiosity close to his breast. A faint light, orange and inviting, flickered to life atop the relic. In time the simple and circular symbol of Azem whirled about the top of it as Paige wished upon it as hard as he was able.
Clenching his teeth, and forcing down a swallow, the Warrior of Light slammed his eyes shut and shuddered as he spoke the words: “Take me to the land of levin.”
The Rogue prayed. Wind wildly whipped past him as he felt the ground beneath his feet ripple and churn. The breath misting around his head, and trailing past the sides of his lips, faded. The air filling his lungs grew warm. And most importantly of all-
PISHHHHHH
The silent crunch of and gentle pap of snow collecting along his hood and shoulders gave way to heavy plunks. Rain, steady and soothing, began to pelt against him as the wind died down and the earth ceased shifting. “...Hmm?” A soft glow, burning ever brighter, danced along the back of Paige's eyelids. With great hesitation he creaked open his peepers.
“...My honest opinion?” a sagely and sassy shark's voice trailed off at the forefront of the feline's thoughts. ”Is that what you well and truly wish for?”
“Aye, Master,” he recalled himself responding.
Tugging down his hood, Paige tilted back his head and gazed at the sunless sea roiling overhead. His thoughts, jumbled and in utter disbelief, drifted back to his last conversation with Master Ilias.
KRAKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
A blinding peal of lightning crackled across the cloud smothered sky that shook all of creation. With a pained blink the Rogue imagined himself back in a sequestered Sharlayan workshop, its ceiling inlaid with what may as well have been artificial suns, as Master Ilias' dulcet tones washed over him.
“In my honest opinion, Padfoot...” With a roll of her eyes, the Sea Wolf flashed a toothy smirk and let her enormous hand come to pap atop her former apprentice's head. Tenderly did her scaly palm rustle and rub at his blonde hair and cream colored furred ears.
“In your honest opinion?” Paige repeated for her as he grunted and leaned into a hand big enough to envelop his head.
Lips scrunched, and eyes pressed against the sides of their sockets, Ilias heavily sighed. Flaring her nostrils, and letting her eyes droop shut, the towering shark shuffled forward and embraced the cat. “Don't.”
His cheeks taking on a rosy red glow, and steam wafting out of his ears, the rumpled Rogue reluctantly returned his Master's whole hearted embrace. “Master?”
“Padfoot...” she tiredly sighed into his hair as she cuddled him closer all the still and refused to let her beloved apprentice go. “I understand you're the Warrior of Light. I understand you've traveled the breadth and depths of the stars themselves. But this...”
The Sage uneasily side eyed the crystalline relic sitting on the desk alongside them. Wreathed with stained glass, and engraved with the symbol of the honorable Ascian known as Azem, the sight of the damned thing filled her with dread.
“As a scholar, as a Sage, I ought to be entranced by the opportunity. To walk the Dimensional Rift and travel between Shards at our leisure is utterly unheard of! Never in our wildest dreams would anyone in all of Sharlayan dream such a thing was possible! Under any other circumstances I would be beaming with pride at the thought of my precious Padfoot broaching new worlds and new frontiers.”
Paige closed his eyes and flicked his tail as Ilias' enormous feet slid over his own. As her arms locked all the tighter around him, as her breath washed over his ears, and as her voice lowered to a whisper she cradled him all the closer.
“But?” he asked of her.
“...But to travel the Dimensional Rift is to travel not just space but time itself. And we still don't understand how that works.” With strained breaths, and eyes clenched shut tight as can be, Ilias nosed at her former apprentice's ears. “When G'raha Tia whisked you away to the First he hurtled you and the Scions across space and time. And in doing so split apart our very timeline.” The shark shuddered at the thought. “I... hesitate to refer to it as a doomed timeline but somewhere out there, lost in the Dimensional Rift, is a ruined carbon copy of our world. Where our collective fates whiffed on a coin flip and the Eighth Umbral Calamity killed many and more. You and I among them.”
Hands resting atop the base of Ilias' finned tail the Rogue squeezed back at what he could of his massive Master. “Yet... it's from that time and place that brought forth the heroes that course corrected our own. And when I traveled to Elpis I did what I was always destined to do. I kept our world, our hopes, on its predetermined path! I didn't split the world onto a whole new timeline I restored and repaired the one we were gifted!”
Ilias ground her razor sharp teeth. “And you think this is what you were meant to do?”
“Mmhmm,” Paige nodded into his Master's bosom. “Alexandria wasn't the only civilization on the Ninth. They weren't the only ones with Electrope. I think it's worth explorin', worth swingin' by there, to see who else might have survived! There could be other cloistered kingdoms, sheltered from the storms, just waiting to be found!”
The sizable Sage puffed out her cheeks. “Hmph.” A blush creased her cheeks, and her toes twiddled along the top of Paige's petite paws, when he papped at and rubbed away at her lower back.
“Mew taught me well, Master. I promise I'll be fine!”
“...You promise?” mumbled back the shark.
“Purromise,” he emphatically replied.
With a mumble grumble Ilias snuck in the shyest of smooches atop her dear apprentice's head. “Very well then,” she grudgingly obliged. “But! You're going to go about this smartly. You're going to use that head of yours for a change. Understood, Padfoot?”
“Aye, Master!” beamed the Rogue as he melted at her every act of affection.
KRATHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
“So. Think,” Paige recalled Ilias explaining to him as he stared slack jawed at the unfamiliar cityscape unfurling out before him. “Every Shard is a reflection of the Source. They aren't replicas of us, much less each other, but they certainly rhyme.”
Shoulder to shoulder in her study, blushing like mad whensoever her enormous hips bumped against his own, the Sea World brushed her fingers alongside world maps strewn about her office's walls. Of Eorzea and what remained of Norvrandt from the First. The geography, the topography, even the climates were unmistakably alike. Cities and cultures, similar yet different, sprang up in much the same places.
“As for the Ninth... we haven't the faintest idea of where to begin. Alexandria is so alien, so unrecognizable, from what it once was that I couldn't even begin to conjecture on what great city in the Source it is a reflection of,” Ilias hummed as she thrummed her clawed fingers along the many maps. “While Alexandria and its archives have been slow to share as they open up to the outside world we have rumors and hearsay enough to piece in the gaps.”
The Sage leaned heavily into Paige. “They tell tales of a proud and warlike nation, confined to a walled and warren-like city, boasting magnificent mosaics and the most renowned Dragoons in all the land.”
The Warrior of Light's ears perked to attention. “Dragoons? Mew don't mean-”
“Aye,” Ilias confirmed. “A kingdom known as Burmecia. Perpetually shrouded in rain as opposed to ice, no doubt come courtesy of their levin-flavored Calamity, but it rhymes an awful lot with our very own Ishgard. And the First's long lost Voeburt.” Tossing her head to the side, the shark's fiery red pixie cut bobbing to and fro, Ilias crossed her arms about her chest. “So if you're going to make your leap into lands unknown... do it from there.”
“Understood, Master!”
“THAT SAID!” she boomed. Hands on her hips Ilias furrowed her brows and how at the Rogue. “If there's nothing, and no one, to be found when you get there? Nothing but tempests and tumult? You turn tail the second you're able.”
Ears folded flat against his head, the Rogue sheepishly ehehed. “And if I do find someone or somethin'?”
Master Ilias leaned in close, her snout bunched up against his own, as her eyes went half-lidded. “Then you damn well better keep a low profile. Even if there are survivors we haven't any inkling how they'll carry themselves.”
“I know, I know,” Paige mewed. Stepping away from Ilias with a blush, his nose and lips practically rubbing against her own, he meandered over towards her workshop table. “I'm there to carry out reconnaissance. Nothin' more.” Taking the goblet-like relic in hand, the circular symbol of Azem twinkling to life atop it, the Rogue idly twirled his hand about his wrist. “By the by Master...”
“Hum?”
“Promise me you won't tell Feil about this. Will ye? She's still awful fresh behind the ears and I wouldn't want her to worry much less feel left out.”
“Provided you keep it quick I won't have to,” snorted the shark.
“You know what I mean!” Paige sassed back. “Even though I may be her Mentor... come the end of the day I'm still the Warrior of Light.” Holding the dimensional key aloft the feline couldn't help but purr as beads of light scattered across its curved glass like a constellation. “What was it they called Azem? The traveler? Shepherd to the stars in the dark?” the Rogue mused aloud. “If there are folks out there trapped in the Ninth... who else will rescue them if I don't?”
KADOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
A plaza, similar yet different to Ishgard's own, greeted the Warrior cast out of place and put of time. Gothic and ice caked architecture, imposing and scraping against the very sky, was replaced with just as domineering stone structures inlaid not with stained glass but mosaic jewels. Lanterns, muted and distorted by the steady but unassuming rainfall, bathed the city with a placid and thoughtful glow.
The city streets were meticulously maintained. Its infrastructure was intact. Paige blearily blinked as he slowly took in the implications. Burmecia still stood. The Ninth still had secrets and survivors to share.
Chin tucked against his chest he looked down to the tiles beneath his feet interspersed with colored glass. Flickers of light, faint and barely perceptible, flared to life as aetheric circuitry come courtesy of Electrope coursed through the streets themselves as if they were veins.
DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Head tilted back as far as he was able Paige looked to the heavens. Clouds, heavy and thick, menacingly roiled and seethed with lightning. Yet... every blinding bolt that coiled down from on high harmlessly rippled across the contours of an unseen barrier. Only trace amounts of water filtered through.
Tucking the relic into his pockets, a veritable skeleton key to every interdimensional door known and unknown, the Rogue curiously and cautiously ventured out from the plaza proper. “Gods. Where do I even begin?” Paige mused under his breath as he began his reconnaissance mission. Past sleepy barracks. Past familiar yet alien churches with artificial lights, blue and calming, bleeding out from the gaps in the stone. Past sleepy markets, with drawn down flaps and tarps covering the stalls, did he wander and wonder. He must have lucked out slipping in at an otherwise unheard of hour since hells if he could tell the difference between night and day here. That said...
It was strange, unsettling even, how alien and unknown yet homely and familiar Burmecia felt. Somehow, someway, his muscle memory of trapezing about Ishgard's back alleys and forgotten streets intuitively helped him navigate this unknown expanse as if it was like the back of his hand.
With a blink blink and shake of his head Paige tried to refocus his, well, focus on the task at hand. “Remember. Reconnaissance.” He'd mosey around a bit more, get a proper lay of the land, then return without a word. Simple as that!
Or. Well. That had been the plan anyway.
Hands shoved into his pockets, Paige padded to a halt as he came upon the entrance to a park. Brows arched, his ears fwipped every time an intermittent splash and grunt carried to his ears. A survivor! A local no less!
Steadying his breathing, and filling his lungs with as much air as he was able, Paige shrouded himself in shadow as he cast Hide. Plumes of darkness coiled up around his toes, his ankles, his shins, and his thighs as the feline's form simply disappeared from sight. Tip toeing forward he curiously resumed his advance...
SPLISH
Only to, yet again, freeze in place. Eyes gone wide, and cheeks burning hot, Paige couldn't turn away.
A lithe and lanky rat woman, scantily clad, danced before a burbling fountain. As clouds of steam trailed off her brown furred frame, her heart racing and breathing strained, she seamlessly glided across the very earth. Tail lashing behind her like a whip one moment, and flowing smooth as silk the next, the Burmecian threw her everything into her routine as the soothing and gentle waters raining down from on high massaged at her. Hair tossed back into a ponytail, and clad in fingerless gloves and toeless albeit torn stockings, the rings wrapped around her wrists jingled to her self-set tempo.
She wasn't just dancing in time to some imagined music... she was conducting it as she went.
Forcing down a flustered swallow, Paige's eyes drank in everything and anything he could he about her. Her pale colored bra and skirt, the color of the waxing moon, covered next to nothing as she danced like-
Chin tucked against her shoulder, the Burmecian began to twirl in place. Her eyes, glittering like gemstones, bore directly into Paige's own as her lips peeled back into smile.
As she danced like somebody was watching.
The Warrior of Light's tail puffed out in a panic. Surely she didn't-
“Hello to you too, stranger,” her voice, rich in timbre and self-assured, spoke as she peered straight at the allegedly unseen feline.
She knew he was here?! How?! How did-
FWISHHHH
Eyes nervously darting to and fro Paige belatedly realized that even if his form had become invisible... it hadn't become intangible. The steady pitter patter of rain against his hooded head and cloaked shoulders had enshrouded his outline with a faint mist.
Trembling in place, the Rogue resorted to his tried and true fail-safe.
POFFFF
Dwindling down to next to nothing, the rain filled gaps between the mosaic tiles turning into canals as they lurched up towards him, Paige simply shrank out of sight with a cast of Mini.
Laughter tumbled free from the Burmecian's maw as she brought a hand up to her pointed and narrow snout. With a sashay of her hips she danced towards her speck of a spectator.
Arms hanging limply at his sides, Paige's eyes shimmered as he watched the graceful if not towering rat stomp towards him. Her titanic toes, practically akin to boulders, daintily crashed down at his sides. Splashing him with tidal surges of water, in between bouncing him up into the air, teasingly did the Burmecian's thooming footfalls continue to just barely avoid flattening him. Her movements, as fluid as the rain, were poetry in motion as her toes deftly splayed every time she was about to trample him underfoot. Those few times she did stumble or falter the rat effortlessly pirouetted back into form. Rather than start from scratch she carried on with the remainder of her routine for her captive audience.
FWISH
Tossing her arms out to her sides, her fur lined with beads of water as the rain washed her clean, she panted and bowed her head low for her inconsequential audience. Even though he was soaked to the bone, dazed and confused and rattled about, it took everything Paige had to restrain himself from uproariously applauding.
“I do so hope you enjoyed the show,” boomed the behemoth Burmecian with a happy hum.
Ears perking to attention, and tail frazzled out, Paige quietly cursed to himself. No point in trying to hide it now. Exhaling a long held breath, and tossing down his hood, the shadows trickled off his form as he let slip a nervous and guilty laugh. “...My apologies, lass. I didn' mean to stare. Much less interrupt the show.”
Running her hand through her ponytail, her eyes lighting up, the rat curiously dropped to a crouch before the cream colored cat. Chin tucked against her chest she gasped as she beheld the frumpy feline. “None needed,” she demurred in disbelief. “I adore having an engaged audience.”
“Is... is something wrong, lass?”
“N-no! Not at all,” she bashfully blurted out as her prehensile tail coiled around her leg. “I've just... never performed to an audience like this, like you, before.” Shuffling back, and coming to rest along the edge of the fountain, she continued to afford Paige her undivided attention.
The Rogue puffed out a cheek and let his eyes swish back and forth between them as he slowly internalized how good or bad it was that his cover had been all but blown. “Is that a good thing?”
“The best thing,” she reassured him as her furless feet stretched out towards him. Toes splayed she sheltered him from the rain pitter pattering down upon him. “Tell me, stranger...” cooed the colossal rat.
Sharply inhaling, Paige grit his teeth as he mulled how badly he wanted to blow his cover. Burmecia didn't just survive it was thriving by all accounts. He could, he should, simply bolt back the Source and call it a job well done. Yet... who was he to turn down a pretty thing like her? “Aye, lass?”
The Burmecian's enchanting eyes curiously swiveled along the bottoms of their sockets. “Lass? Come now, stranger. There's no need to be so formal! Call me Ranaa.“
Paige could but squeak in response. “A-a-a pleasure, Miss Ranaa.”
Ranaa's laughter, warm and intoxicating, rattled at his chest. As she arched her sole, and twiddled her thick toes above him, the bracelets wrapped around her wrists jingled like steeple bells. “Would you be so kind as to tell me just who do I have the pleasure of performing for tonight?”
Jaw hanging slack, and slouched forward, the Rogue rubbed at the back of his hooded head. “Ah... well...”
Pinching at the nape of Paige's neck with an affectionate scrunch of her sole, Ranaa playfully footsied her newfound friend. “Please?”
Confound it all. “P-p-paige,” the flustered Rogue mewled. “Mew can call me Paige.”
“Paige, was it? A lovely name for a lovely lad,” teased the behemoth Burmecian. Clasping at the sides of the fountain, and knocking her ankles together, she shyly bunched her shoulders. “Forgive my prying, Paige, but you're not from around here. Are you?”
Master Ilias was going to skin him alive for this. “...No, Miss Ranna. I'm not.”
Ranaa's enormous ears swiveled to and fro. “You're from beyond the barrier!” she giddily whispered.
“S-s-something like that,” Paige mumbled. “I'm something of a... shepherd. Seeking out the stars lost in the dark. S-s-should they want to be found, mind!”
“A shepherd are you?” cooed the curious Burmecian. Parting her cupped together feet she warmly smiled down at her pebble sized pal. “Well...I'm excited to see where you lead me.” Ranna extended to him her upturned hand. "In this dance and many more to come."
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
More
mr-rowboat art? Of a FFXIV flavor? Must mean another little blurb to go with it!FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
Lips sputtering, Paige cupped his hands to his mouth. The Rogue's misting breath, trailing from between his teeth, washed over his frigid fingers as he skulked about. “Seven hells...” he spat with a shiver as he power walked out of Ishgard's snow caked and utterly empty Aetheryte plaza. With the colossal crystal bathing his back in a gentle pale blue glow he quietly and quickly stalked the streets.
SHFFFFFFFFFFFF
Save the crunch of his own footfalls, and the gentle flick of flakes papping against his shoulders, not a sound or soul was to be heard on the otherwise empty streets. Not even the Forgotten Knight, a home away from home for the inebriated and insomniacs alike, stirred at this ungodly hour.
Twas now or never.
Reaching into his pocket, and fetching forth a curious glass relic, Paige clasped the strange stained mixture of an hour glass and goblet between his hands. White knuckling and holding onto it for dear life he steeled his nerves. Gah. Hells if he knew how to use this damned thing.
“Nothing to it but to do it,” he mulled under his breath as he cupped the curiosity close to his breast. A faint light, orange and inviting, flickered to life atop the relic. In time the simple and circular symbol of Azem whirled about the top of it as Paige wished upon it as hard as he was able.
Clenching his teeth, and forcing down a swallow, the Warrior of Light slammed his eyes shut and shuddered as he spoke the words: “Take me to the land of levin.”
The Rogue prayed. Wind wildly whipped past him as he felt the ground beneath his feet ripple and churn. The breath misting around his head, and trailing past the sides of his lips, faded. The air filling his lungs grew warm. And most importantly of all-
PISHHHHHH
The silent crunch of and gentle pap of snow collecting along his hood and shoulders gave way to heavy plunks. Rain, steady and soothing, began to pelt against him as the wind died down and the earth ceased shifting. “...Hmm?” A soft glow, burning ever brighter, danced along the back of Paige's eyelids. With great hesitation he creaked open his peepers.
“...My honest opinion?” a sagely and sassy shark's voice trailed off at the forefront of the feline's thoughts. ”Is that what you well and truly wish for?”
“Aye, Master,” he recalled himself responding.
Tugging down his hood, Paige tilted back his head and gazed at the sunless sea roiling overhead. His thoughts, jumbled and in utter disbelief, drifted back to his last conversation with Master Ilias.
KRAKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
A blinding peal of lightning crackled across the cloud smothered sky that shook all of creation. With a pained blink the Rogue imagined himself back in a sequestered Sharlayan workshop, its ceiling inlaid with what may as well have been artificial suns, as Master Ilias' dulcet tones washed over him.
“In my honest opinion, Padfoot...” With a roll of her eyes, the Sea Wolf flashed a toothy smirk and let her enormous hand come to pap atop her former apprentice's head. Tenderly did her scaly palm rustle and rub at his blonde hair and cream colored furred ears.
“In your honest opinion?” Paige repeated for her as he grunted and leaned into a hand big enough to envelop his head.
Lips scrunched, and eyes pressed against the sides of their sockets, Ilias heavily sighed. Flaring her nostrils, and letting her eyes droop shut, the towering shark shuffled forward and embraced the cat. “Don't.”
His cheeks taking on a rosy red glow, and steam wafting out of his ears, the rumpled Rogue reluctantly returned his Master's whole hearted embrace. “Master?”
“Padfoot...” she tiredly sighed into his hair as she cuddled him closer all the still and refused to let her beloved apprentice go. “I understand you're the Warrior of Light. I understand you've traveled the breadth and depths of the stars themselves. But this...”
The Sage uneasily side eyed the crystalline relic sitting on the desk alongside them. Wreathed with stained glass, and engraved with the symbol of the honorable Ascian known as Azem, the sight of the damned thing filled her with dread.
“As a scholar, as a Sage, I ought to be entranced by the opportunity. To walk the Dimensional Rift and travel between Shards at our leisure is utterly unheard of! Never in our wildest dreams would anyone in all of Sharlayan dream such a thing was possible! Under any other circumstances I would be beaming with pride at the thought of my precious Padfoot broaching new worlds and new frontiers.”
Paige closed his eyes and flicked his tail as Ilias' enormous feet slid over his own. As her arms locked all the tighter around him, as her breath washed over his ears, and as her voice lowered to a whisper she cradled him all the closer.
“But?” he asked of her.
“...But to travel the Dimensional Rift is to travel not just space but time itself. And we still don't understand how that works.” With strained breaths, and eyes clenched shut tight as can be, Ilias nosed at her former apprentice's ears. “When G'raha Tia whisked you away to the First he hurtled you and the Scions across space and time. And in doing so split apart our very timeline.” The shark shuddered at the thought. “I... hesitate to refer to it as a doomed timeline but somewhere out there, lost in the Dimensional Rift, is a ruined carbon copy of our world. Where our collective fates whiffed on a coin flip and the Eighth Umbral Calamity killed many and more. You and I among them.”
Hands resting atop the base of Ilias' finned tail the Rogue squeezed back at what he could of his massive Master. “Yet... it's from that time and place that brought forth the heroes that course corrected our own. And when I traveled to Elpis I did what I was always destined to do. I kept our world, our hopes, on its predetermined path! I didn't split the world onto a whole new timeline I restored and repaired the one we were gifted!”
Ilias ground her razor sharp teeth. “And you think this is what you were meant to do?”
“Mmhmm,” Paige nodded into his Master's bosom. “Alexandria wasn't the only civilization on the Ninth. They weren't the only ones with Electrope. I think it's worth explorin', worth swingin' by there, to see who else might have survived! There could be other cloistered kingdoms, sheltered from the storms, just waiting to be found!”
The sizable Sage puffed out her cheeks. “Hmph.” A blush creased her cheeks, and her toes twiddled along the top of Paige's petite paws, when he papped at and rubbed away at her lower back.
“Mew taught me well, Master. I promise I'll be fine!”
“...You promise?” mumbled back the shark.
“Purromise,” he emphatically replied.
With a mumble grumble Ilias snuck in the shyest of smooches atop her dear apprentice's head. “Very well then,” she grudgingly obliged. “But! You're going to go about this smartly. You're going to use that head of yours for a change. Understood, Padfoot?”
“Aye, Master!” beamed the Rogue as he melted at her every act of affection.
KRATHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
“So. Think,” Paige recalled Ilias explaining to him as he stared slack jawed at the unfamiliar cityscape unfurling out before him. “Every Shard is a reflection of the Source. They aren't replicas of us, much less each other, but they certainly rhyme.”
Shoulder to shoulder in her study, blushing like mad whensoever her enormous hips bumped against his own, the Sea World brushed her fingers alongside world maps strewn about her office's walls. Of Eorzea and what remained of Norvrandt from the First. The geography, the topography, even the climates were unmistakably alike. Cities and cultures, similar yet different, sprang up in much the same places.
“As for the Ninth... we haven't the faintest idea of where to begin. Alexandria is so alien, so unrecognizable, from what it once was that I couldn't even begin to conjecture on what great city in the Source it is a reflection of,” Ilias hummed as she thrummed her clawed fingers along the many maps. “While Alexandria and its archives have been slow to share as they open up to the outside world we have rumors and hearsay enough to piece in the gaps.”
The Sage leaned heavily into Paige. “They tell tales of a proud and warlike nation, confined to a walled and warren-like city, boasting magnificent mosaics and the most renowned Dragoons in all the land.”
The Warrior of Light's ears perked to attention. “Dragoons? Mew don't mean-”
“Aye,” Ilias confirmed. “A kingdom known as Burmecia. Perpetually shrouded in rain as opposed to ice, no doubt come courtesy of their levin-flavored Calamity, but it rhymes an awful lot with our very own Ishgard. And the First's long lost Voeburt.” Tossing her head to the side, the shark's fiery red pixie cut bobbing to and fro, Ilias crossed her arms about her chest. “So if you're going to make your leap into lands unknown... do it from there.”
“Understood, Master!”
“THAT SAID!” she boomed. Hands on her hips Ilias furrowed her brows and how at the Rogue. “If there's nothing, and no one, to be found when you get there? Nothing but tempests and tumult? You turn tail the second you're able.”
Ears folded flat against his head, the Rogue sheepishly ehehed. “And if I do find someone or somethin'?”
Master Ilias leaned in close, her snout bunched up against his own, as her eyes went half-lidded. “Then you damn well better keep a low profile. Even if there are survivors we haven't any inkling how they'll carry themselves.”
“I know, I know,” Paige mewed. Stepping away from Ilias with a blush, his nose and lips practically rubbing against her own, he meandered over towards her workshop table. “I'm there to carry out reconnaissance. Nothin' more.” Taking the goblet-like relic in hand, the circular symbol of Azem twinkling to life atop it, the Rogue idly twirled his hand about his wrist. “By the by Master...”
“Hum?”
“Promise me you won't tell Feil about this. Will ye? She's still awful fresh behind the ears and I wouldn't want her to worry much less feel left out.”
“Provided you keep it quick I won't have to,” snorted the shark.
“You know what I mean!” Paige sassed back. “Even though I may be her Mentor... come the end of the day I'm still the Warrior of Light.” Holding the dimensional key aloft the feline couldn't help but purr as beads of light scattered across its curved glass like a constellation. “What was it they called Azem? The traveler? Shepherd to the stars in the dark?” the Rogue mused aloud. “If there are folks out there trapped in the Ninth... who else will rescue them if I don't?”
KADOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
A plaza, similar yet different to Ishgard's own, greeted the Warrior cast out of place and put of time. Gothic and ice caked architecture, imposing and scraping against the very sky, was replaced with just as domineering stone structures inlaid not with stained glass but mosaic jewels. Lanterns, muted and distorted by the steady but unassuming rainfall, bathed the city with a placid and thoughtful glow.
The city streets were meticulously maintained. Its infrastructure was intact. Paige blearily blinked as he slowly took in the implications. Burmecia still stood. The Ninth still had secrets and survivors to share.
Chin tucked against his chest he looked down to the tiles beneath his feet interspersed with colored glass. Flickers of light, faint and barely perceptible, flared to life as aetheric circuitry come courtesy of Electrope coursed through the streets themselves as if they were veins.
DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Head tilted back as far as he was able Paige looked to the heavens. Clouds, heavy and thick, menacingly roiled and seethed with lightning. Yet... every blinding bolt that coiled down from on high harmlessly rippled across the contours of an unseen barrier. Only trace amounts of water filtered through.
Tucking the relic into his pockets, a veritable skeleton key to every interdimensional door known and unknown, the Rogue curiously and cautiously ventured out from the plaza proper. “Gods. Where do I even begin?” Paige mused under his breath as he began his reconnaissance mission. Past sleepy barracks. Past familiar yet alien churches with artificial lights, blue and calming, bleeding out from the gaps in the stone. Past sleepy markets, with drawn down flaps and tarps covering the stalls, did he wander and wonder. He must have lucked out slipping in at an otherwise unheard of hour since hells if he could tell the difference between night and day here. That said...
It was strange, unsettling even, how alien and unknown yet homely and familiar Burmecia felt. Somehow, someway, his muscle memory of trapezing about Ishgard's back alleys and forgotten streets intuitively helped him navigate this unknown expanse as if it was like the back of his hand.
With a blink blink and shake of his head Paige tried to refocus his, well, focus on the task at hand. “Remember. Reconnaissance.” He'd mosey around a bit more, get a proper lay of the land, then return without a word. Simple as that!
Or. Well. That had been the plan anyway.
Hands shoved into his pockets, Paige padded to a halt as he came upon the entrance to a park. Brows arched, his ears fwipped every time an intermittent splash and grunt carried to his ears. A survivor! A local no less!
Steadying his breathing, and filling his lungs with as much air as he was able, Paige shrouded himself in shadow as he cast Hide. Plumes of darkness coiled up around his toes, his ankles, his shins, and his thighs as the feline's form simply disappeared from sight. Tip toeing forward he curiously resumed his advance...
SPLISH
Only to, yet again, freeze in place. Eyes gone wide, and cheeks burning hot, Paige couldn't turn away.
A lithe and lanky rat woman, scantily clad, danced before a burbling fountain. As clouds of steam trailed off her brown furred frame, her heart racing and breathing strained, she seamlessly glided across the very earth. Tail lashing behind her like a whip one moment, and flowing smooth as silk the next, the Burmecian threw her everything into her routine as the soothing and gentle waters raining down from on high massaged at her. Hair tossed back into a ponytail, and clad in fingerless gloves and toeless albeit torn stockings, the rings wrapped around her wrists jingled to her self-set tempo.
She wasn't just dancing in time to some imagined music... she was conducting it as she went.
Forcing down a flustered swallow, Paige's eyes drank in everything and anything he could he about her. Her pale colored bra and skirt, the color of the waxing moon, covered next to nothing as she danced like-
Chin tucked against her shoulder, the Burmecian began to twirl in place. Her eyes, glittering like gemstones, bore directly into Paige's own as her lips peeled back into smile.
As she danced like somebody was watching.
The Warrior of Light's tail puffed out in a panic. Surely she didn't-
“Hello to you too, stranger,” her voice, rich in timbre and self-assured, spoke as she peered straight at the allegedly unseen feline.
She knew he was here?! How?! How did-
FWISHHHH
Eyes nervously darting to and fro Paige belatedly realized that even if his form had become invisible... it hadn't become intangible. The steady pitter patter of rain against his hooded head and cloaked shoulders had enshrouded his outline with a faint mist.
Trembling in place, the Rogue resorted to his tried and true fail-safe.
POFFFF
Dwindling down to next to nothing, the rain filled gaps between the mosaic tiles turning into canals as they lurched up towards him, Paige simply shrank out of sight with a cast of Mini.
Laughter tumbled free from the Burmecian's maw as she brought a hand up to her pointed and narrow snout. With a sashay of her hips she danced towards her speck of a spectator.
Arms hanging limply at his sides, Paige's eyes shimmered as he watched the graceful if not towering rat stomp towards him. Her titanic toes, practically akin to boulders, daintily crashed down at his sides. Splashing him with tidal surges of water, in between bouncing him up into the air, teasingly did the Burmecian's thooming footfalls continue to just barely avoid flattening him. Her movements, as fluid as the rain, were poetry in motion as her toes deftly splayed every time she was about to trample him underfoot. Those few times she did stumble or falter the rat effortlessly pirouetted back into form. Rather than start from scratch she carried on with the remainder of her routine for her captive audience.
FWISH
Tossing her arms out to her sides, her fur lined with beads of water as the rain washed her clean, she panted and bowed her head low for her inconsequential audience. Even though he was soaked to the bone, dazed and confused and rattled about, it took everything Paige had to restrain himself from uproariously applauding.
“I do so hope you enjoyed the show,” boomed the behemoth Burmecian with a happy hum.
Ears perking to attention, and tail frazzled out, Paige quietly cursed to himself. No point in trying to hide it now. Exhaling a long held breath, and tossing down his hood, the shadows trickled off his form as he let slip a nervous and guilty laugh. “...My apologies, lass. I didn' mean to stare. Much less interrupt the show.”
Running her hand through her ponytail, her eyes lighting up, the rat curiously dropped to a crouch before the cream colored cat. Chin tucked against her chest she gasped as she beheld the frumpy feline. “None needed,” she demurred in disbelief. “I adore having an engaged audience.”
“Is... is something wrong, lass?”
“N-no! Not at all,” she bashfully blurted out as her prehensile tail coiled around her leg. “I've just... never performed to an audience like this, like you, before.” Shuffling back, and coming to rest along the edge of the fountain, she continued to afford Paige her undivided attention.
The Rogue puffed out a cheek and let his eyes swish back and forth between them as he slowly internalized how good or bad it was that his cover had been all but blown. “Is that a good thing?”
“The best thing,” she reassured him as her furless feet stretched out towards him. Toes splayed she sheltered him from the rain pitter pattering down upon him. “Tell me, stranger...” cooed the colossal rat.
Sharply inhaling, Paige grit his teeth as he mulled how badly he wanted to blow his cover. Burmecia didn't just survive it was thriving by all accounts. He could, he should, simply bolt back the Source and call it a job well done. Yet... who was he to turn down a pretty thing like her? “Aye, lass?”
The Burmecian's enchanting eyes curiously swiveled along the bottoms of their sockets. “Lass? Come now, stranger. There's no need to be so formal! Call me Ranaa.“
Paige could but squeak in response. “A-a-a pleasure, Miss Ranaa.”
Ranaa's laughter, warm and intoxicating, rattled at his chest. As she arched her sole, and twiddled her thick toes above him, the bracelets wrapped around her wrists jingled like steeple bells. “Would you be so kind as to tell me just who do I have the pleasure of performing for tonight?”
Jaw hanging slack, and slouched forward, the Rogue rubbed at the back of his hooded head. “Ah... well...”
Pinching at the nape of Paige's neck with an affectionate scrunch of her sole, Ranaa playfully footsied her newfound friend. “Please?”
Confound it all. “P-p-paige,” the flustered Rogue mewled. “Mew can call me Paige.”
“Paige, was it? A lovely name for a lovely lad,” teased the behemoth Burmecian. Clasping at the sides of the fountain, and knocking her ankles together, she shyly bunched her shoulders. “Forgive my prying, Paige, but you're not from around here. Are you?”
Master Ilias was going to skin him alive for this. “...No, Miss Ranna. I'm not.”
Ranaa's enormous ears swiveled to and fro. “You're from beyond the barrier!” she giddily whispered.
“S-s-something like that,” Paige mumbled. “I'm something of a... shepherd. Seeking out the stars lost in the dark. S-s-should they want to be found, mind!”
“A shepherd are you?” cooed the curious Burmecian. Parting her cupped together feet she warmly smiled down at her pebble sized pal. “Well...I'm excited to see where you lead me.” Ranna extended to him her upturned hand. "In this dance and many more to come."
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Category All / Macro / Micro
Species Burmecian
Size 1637 x 2251px
File Size 3.54 MB
Listed in Folders
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