Spoilers for Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers lore and locations.
Day
118
Few times in my
life have I been presented with such choice as when I stepped foot into the
Crystarium’s Cabinet of Curiosities. I have read much in my time, the result of
a childhood spent in one place and imagination that wished to roam, and even I
doubt I could fill one of the hundreds of shelves in this seemingly endless
place. I spent the entirety of yesterday wandering, poking about the books and
picking at whatever interested me.
I took a book or
two for my personal perusal in the evenings, a book on the history of
Norvrandt, and a more generic fantasy novel. It has been sometimes since I have
read of either. The former because such details seem to have faded under the
glare of light, and the latter because mother claimed I had grown far too old
for such. It was enjoyable to partake in them again.
It was somewhat
heartbreaking reading the tale of the Warriors of Light again. I cannot say
when you were born or what you have been told, dear reader, but be wary if ever
you dare inquire about them from the elders in your community if you do not
already know the tale. Aside from the Flood itself, those individuals, those
who damned us to this eternity of wicked white, are likely the most despised in
any annal of history you may ever find.
Not just for their
bringing about the Flood of Light, but their disappearance from Norvrandt. Far
as I have ever gathered, they simply vanished. Perhaps they sought a way to fix
their mistake, or they may have decided to cut their losses and flee. It would
be easy to place them as having died, but I hope against all hopes that they
lived. It lends credence to my own search. That is a secret between myself and
you, dear reader. I would never speak such heresy to anyone else.
Today was spent
delving into the reading list I was provided by my benefactor. Niamh has
assisted me in such, though far from out of personal gain. She can already
travel as I seek to. Instead she claims a morbid interest in what such a thing
would do to a mortal. I had not taken her for one to wish to see me meet a
grizzly end, but so long as she assists me, I shan’t concern myself with her
reasons.
Day
122
I must forewarn
anyone who intends to read for several days straight, for the whole of those
days. After a time, all you will see is ink. On your fingers, against the pale
sky, on the pavement. When I close my eyes now, I can still see symbols and
etchings. I have vowed to take tomorrow to myself, lest my entire world become
printed.
I am far from a
proper researcher, and as such cannot tell you if it has been all for naught or
building to something grand. I have absorbed so many theories on aetheric
movement and transfer, but all of it pertains to how such is done in Norvrandt.
My initial plans will have to deal with addressing my findings.
Aether in
Norvrandt, per the texts, has slowed with the coming of the light. It was
established years ago, but was news to me, that this is why the land has died
as it has. There is simply no energy to go around. Were I to want to travel
through Norvrandt to somewhere else, I can only presume the amount of aether I
will be required to reach lands beyond. All of my estimations are returned
absurd results.
The second hurdle
to be surmounted will be determining the method to move myself. I have found ideas
and spells regarding traversal in Norvrandt, stemming past the use of
aetherytes, but all of them are considered extremely dangerous. I would prefer
to not gamble my life on a coin flip, or worse. And since I cannot rely on
aetheryte beyond any known place, I shall have to determine an alternative method.
This is where I see my benefactor being the most useful. She claimed a font of
knowledge would be at my disposal, and I will be putting that to the test.
Then there are the
variables that I cannot even begin to imagine. The unknown unknowns. Those obstacles
that no one has yet encountered. It was somewhat exciting to consider that I
would be the first to encounter them, before I realized that I may be just one
of many. It could be that I ask the impossible, and that I am falling into a similar
folly as countless scholars before me. Were but there was a way to know. But I
believe there is not. The only way is forward, into a dark cavern. And I know
that within that cavern is a bottomless pit, that I must skirt the edge of. The
final variable, dear reader, is that I do not know if there is an edge to
skirt.
Day
128
A week and a half
spent reading books drew me back out to Lakeland for a day. I needed to see
something beyond discolored pages and found the familiar purple hues soothing.
I deliberated going back to Holminster Switch, but could not bring myself to do
so. I do not know what I could possibly say to my family to describe my travels.
Or even worse, I do not thing I would be able to continue with my quest were I
to learn that something horrible had happened.
Much as I was wont
to leave, Holminster will forever be a soothing place to me. The familiar, and
the familial. To see return and learned that those I once knew had fallen to
the sin eaters would be something unbearable. I suspect that this is also why
Niamh left Il Mheg. She claims it was disinterest, but I can hear it in her
voice that there is more to the story. I cannot claim to know what sin eaters
do with pixies, but I can only imagine it is just as unpleasant.
We spent some time
on a cliffside overlooking a lake. Sat in our shared silence. At times it feels
as though we simply exist in a shared space. I cannot say truly what our relationship
is. Perhaps I am nothing more to her but a bemusement. A mortal playing at the
thoughts and actions of those who are something else entirely. An animal acting
beyond its station. I would like to think she is here out of interest in my
cause. That she too truly wishes for there to be life beyond Norvrandt. Maybe Niamh
fears finding out the answer by herself. I know I do.
Day
147
Do not fear dear
reader, for I have kept away from you for naught but a lack of anything to tell.
There is only so many times that I can write about the numerous books I have
perused, none of which I believe you would find particularly interesting. I
have kept a separate diary documenting my findings and current theories
pertaining to my goal, which I plan to keep near this journal, always. Should
anything occur to me, and you pick up my work as I once did someone else’s, I
hope that I have done a bit of the legwork for you.
It was yesterday
that I had decided that I had absorbed all that there was for me to learn. Once
I began to encounter repetition, I no longer could bring myself to stay in the
Crystarium, and so I began the trek back to Eulmore to report my findings. The
travel was quick, as my benefactor sent along coin to pay the aetheryte
attendants, though by the time I had all my belongings in order, night had
already fallen.
A surprise awaited
me, as my benefactor had planned a fine supper. She had set aside an older
wine, and made sure that a good assortment of meat and vegetables were
prepared. I didn’t dare ask what the entire meal would have cost, for I did not
wish to faint from the shock. I expected her to break into a barrage of
questions for me, but instead she listened as I recounted my findings, looking
on with an eternal appearance of bemusement. There was no shock, dear reader,
and I am certain she knew each detail to heart already.
When I finished,
she asked me to follow her, and we paced around the outer edge of the tower. She
explained, and there is no better word for it for she spoke to me as one would
a child, that there was nothing that would help me in any library across the
entirety of Norvrandt. Or I presume she meant Norvrandt. She spoke of all that
lay before us from that tower as the ‘First’, in a manner that carried with it
the utmost amount of venom.
With a bit of finality,
she told me that only she could see my goal met. And that she would help me do
such. No strings, no conditions. She wanted to assist me. In the moment, I
could on fear exactly how she stated it. So coldly, so matter-of-factly.
“If you wish to
leave, I can open the door. Else, run along so that I can spend my time
elsewhere.”
She told me where
I could sleep, and then left me to my own devices. I can only assume how long I
stood there on that balcony, dumbfounded. Sitting here, writing in this moment,
I can view it from the outside as a nonsensical claim. One that an arrogant
fool, or a complete charlatan would boast. Still, I believe it.
The clinical way
she speaks, the mannerisms with which she acts. All of it feels so foreign to
me. Beyond my understanding. I have met many people in my life, but none such
as this. Perhaps she is from another place, perhaps she is just far more knowledgeable
than I can ever believe to be.
It both excites me
and terrifies me. To know that I have found my solution makes me wish to rush
straight to her and demand to be whisked away elsewhere. Yet the way she speaks
chills me to my very bone. What worries me the most is that no matter how long
I have debated it, I know my answer. I will accept her offer, dear reader.
Against all better judgments. Against all I can feel, nay, know is wrong. I
will proceed.
It horrifies me.
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