Juli-of-the-Mists

the future is ours for the taking

  • she / they

big ol' sporadic nerd.
ffxiv, celeste, pokémon, mtg etc.
elf enjoyer


Juli-of-the-Mists
@Juli-of-the-Mists

Wondering what FFXIV Write is? Here's some info!

(contains spoilers for post-Heavensward and allusions to suicide)


In fire and darkness, all was one. A man, feeble from unending struggle, battered away endless swarms of smoldering shadows. He knew not how long he had fought, only how his arm shook with exhaustion, how his shoulder ebbed in pain, how every blow of his lance struck weaker than the last.


"We have partaken of a thousand years of pain! A pain which we shall bestow upon thee!" the shadows screamed as they rent the spear from his tired hands. He felt their forms snake around his limbs, each touch burning his skin anew as they restrained the free will he sought. But by his hands, all would be held to account. He would be their envoy of wrath and revenge, their conductor for the final chorus of Thordan's spawn.

A bitter end for the last Azure Dragoon.

His voice roared in a tone not his own, and his body fought a battle he could not see. All he knew was fire and darkness. All was one. One man. Angry and alone.

What did he have left?

Regrets. Was any of this - the training and the fighting and the training and the fighting - really worth it? Could he have known a life without one more wyrm to slay, without fire and darkness?

What did he have left?

A young boy with pure intentions, naive but gifted with words. A leader with a shame to bear, reluctant but understanding. A warrior with the weight of the world on her shoulders, strong but self-sacrificing.

What did he have left?

Friends. He still had friends to dim the fire and brighten the darkness.

And for their sakes, Estinien knew what must be done. His final duty.

By his hands, the cycle would end.


You must log in to comment.