Bladesong

The air sizzled, and not a creature in Thanalan dared utter a sound. They stayed low and sought shelter from the massive red moon that loomed over them, ionizing the air into a vortex of clouds, swirling around itself. By the bank of Soot Creek, a ramshackle shack cast a long shadow over the ground. And within, a family trembled in silence, waiting for the end of the world.

Laagi hushed her whimpering children and held them tighter against herself. She was a young miqo’te, in her early twenties and already with three children - and one more on the way. Leaning down carefully, she picked up the smallest child and set him on her lap. He nuzzled into her crimson hair and clung tightly. His siblings gathered around her feet, squeezing their arms around her legs as they looked up at her.

“Momma, when’s Pa coming back?” the girl asked, coiling her tail around herself for comfort.

“Soon, Lehru. Don’t worry, you’ll see.” The waver in Laagi’s voice betrayed her own concerns, but she put on a warm face for the kids.

Nobody knew what was happening. It started about a year ago. Dalamud, the star’s lesser moon, began drifting closer, appearing in the sky as a bright red star. At first, nobody paid it any mind; just another cosmic oddity, the normal sort of abnormality. Yet it had continued growing in the night sky, larger and redder, until before long it rivaled the sun in size and shone through even during the daylight.

In recent moons, however, it had grown even faster. It descended low into the sky, forming a curtain of dark clouds that swirled around it endlessly, sparking with lightning and thunder as it loomed overhead. The taste of metal filled the air.

Folk from all over worried over the ominous descent, whispering nervously amongst themselves, but there was nothing to be done about it, so life carried on as it had. Only in the last few moons, when the clouds above parted, did plans form to take shelter. In a cave, or under a mountain, perhaps? Others had argued that open fields would be safer, at least, from collapse, but the reality was that nobody knew what to do.

How could anyone know how to face the end of the world?

The door of the shack unlatched and creaked open, casting in a deep red light from the falling moon. Laagi held her children tight. All eyes turned to the open door, and in rushed Sif. He wasted no time shutting the door behind him, securing the latch tightly.

“Pa!” Onhex, the eldest, cried, running over to throw his arm around the man’s legs, with Lehru right behind him. Laagi’s heart swelled, smiling widely as Sif kneeled to hug them tightly. “How was the city?” she asked.

The man looked down at his children and grinned, patting them both on the head. “Chaotic. Felt like everyone’s on the brink of full-on panic. Hurried back as soon as I could.” His eyes met Laagi’s. “You didn’t have to stay up for me. They ought to be asleep.”

“They couldn’t sleep, and neither could I,” Laagi admitted, setting Rizah down and standing with a groan. Her hand rested on her belly; another child was due in less than a moon’s time, if the world didn’t end before then.

“Have they been fed?”

Laagi nodded.

Alright then,” Sif smiled and picked Lehru up, hoisting her into his arms. He crossed the small hut and plopped her onto the bed, helping Onhex and Rizah up next. Lehru wrapped her arms around Rizah - despite his protests - and pulled them against the pillows.

“All right,” Sif said, hoisting Lehru into his arms. “Come on, let’s head into the cellar and wait out this storm, and if you all behave, I’ll show you a treat I got while I was in Ul’dah!” Excitement mixed quickly with fear, his children’s eyes drifting towards the bright red light under the door. Laagi scooped up a handful of blankets and a lantern, prodding them onwards. “Go on, follow your father.”

Sif pulled the door open and stepped into the yard outside, shielding his eyes from the unnatural midnight glare. Stepping out the door, through the gaps in her fingers, Lehru saw another world. One uncomfortably similar to the one she knew. Almost identical, but cast in a deep red. The ground beneath her feet rumbled, pebbles rising into the air and shattering apart, held together with sparks. The river had moved. Its waters pushed up the near bank, away from the moon. And the moon — the massive red orb — hung low in the sky, etched with bright streaks of blue, with jagged spikes jutting out from all sides. She averted her gaze quickly, clinging to her father’s leg.

Sif led them around the hut to the cellar doors, flinging them open against the wind. One by one, the children descended, and Laagi came up behind. Sif helped her into the half-dug cellar; a simple earthen room under the hut used to preserve their harvest. Laagi slid down the far wall and settled on the floor, bringing her children to snuggle around her close. Sif closed the doors and joined them quickly, pulling his satchel onto his lap.

“Well done, kids. Are you all ready for your treat?” Sif grinned, delighting in the spark of excitement flickering across his children’s worried faces. They made reluctant guesses, staring at the red glow between the cellar doors. Laagi smiled and drew them close under her blanket, but not before Sif stole a kiss from her cheek. The siblings wretched and howled with childlike disgust, momentarily distracted.

Laagi blushed and lifted her lantern. “Go on then, show them what you got.” She was excited too. The heavens crumbled outside, but she could do nothing about that. At the end of the world, she wanted to be with the family she and Sif made for themselves.

Sif reached into his bag and pulled out a plain leather book imprinted with one word: Oathsworn. Lehru’s eyes lit up with excitement, poking up over the blanket. “What’s that, Pa?”

“Settle down and you’ll find out!” Sif chuckled, cracking open the book on his lap. They were poor and of few means. He wished he could do more, but a pleasant distraction was all he could offer his family. Sif ran his thumb down the page and turned to the first chapter, reading aloud.

“Once upon a time in the evergreen land of Coerthas, knights defended Ishgard against the wrath of the dragon hoard. But none among those knights could rival Ser Valier, the greatest of legendary knights. Because his valor and bravery were beyond question, he was called upon by the Holy See itself to defeat the most terrifying of dragons. This dragon long terrorized the villages in Dravania, burning down buildings and eating those who lived in them! Till one day— ”

Sif’s words held everyone’s attention, but Lehru listened most intently. She clung to her blanket tightly and shut her eyes, picturing every part of the world as her father described it: the proud knight’s armor and the terrifying roar of the dragon. Their final clash and the knight’s brave sacrifice, ensuring the safety of the Dravanian village. As Sif finished the chapter, Lehru leaned up and tugged on his arm.

“Pa, what happened next? What else did Ser Valier do?”

A bright flash of light cut off Sif’s reply, spilling through the crack in the cellar door, followed by a cacophony of noise from all around. Dirt trickled down from the ceiling and vibrated against the ground; the hut itself creaked and groaned violently above them, more than any Thanalan storm had prior in Lehru’s memory. She felt herself pushed back as Sif jumped on top of them, chunks of mud and wood falling across his back.

The cellar doors rattled and shook, flying open from the terrible wind. The blinding red light of Dalamud shone into the cellar harshly. Cracked and crumbling, the fallen moon splintered into pieces, crackling with lightning. Laagi gasped and clutched her children to her chest.

Lehru slipped out from under the blanket, scrambling to her feet and pushing past her brothers to reach the door. “I’ll close it!” she called, her voice barely carrying over the discord. Laagi reached for her, but she was already beyond her grasp.
“Lehru! Get back here!” she screamed, yet seemed to make no noise. The wind tore through the crumbling cellar, whipping her hair across her face. She kept trying to reach Lehru, but Sif kept them pinned down, protecting them from the debris, unaware of the danger his daughter faced.

Pushing against the wind, Lehru forced her way to the entrance, climbing the stairs and bracing herself against the wall. She stole a glance at the moon — the accursed source of her fear — and thought to give it a piece of her mind. To yell and scream, to curse the moon that threatened her family. Instead, her eyes widened as the moon exploded before them, a dragon within unfurling and roaring with anger.

The chunks of the “moon” flew across the sky, carving pits into the star and sending up massive plumes of rock and dirt from all over. Each fragment tore seams in the aether of the star itself, sending out streams of light cascading down to the earth. Panicking, Lehru tugged with all her might against the door and slammed it shut. And as a streak of light spiraled down to the ground outside their tiny farm, a light that filled and washed the entrance in horrifying amber, Laagi screamed.

The uncaring Thanalan sun beat down upon Lehru’s lanky shoulders on a cloudless fall afternoon. She squatted in the mud, reaching down for a handful at a time and splatting it like mortar between the rocks of a well casing. Patting the mud into place, she smoothed it out with her hand. That ought to hold, she thinks. Standing, she wiped her brow and shook mud from her hands, to no avail.

She didn’t have to be here. It was more like a volunteer job. Winter was only a few moons off and old man Romund was a friend of her father’s. A farmer like them, Romund hadn’t even finished complaining about the state of his old well before Lehru volunteered to build a new one. It was the right thing to do, as natural as breathing, but she welcomed the end of her labor all the same.

“Hah… Tis done,” she sighed, walking onward to the landowner’s cabin and knocking on the door. A few minutes later, Ramund’s face shuffled into the crack in the door.

“Hello again, Ser Ramund,” Lehru began, bowing politely. Too politely. The old man grumbled uncomfortably.

“You got it all done, did you missy? Hope you don’t mind if I look myself.”

“O-oh, of course not, ser!” She gestured toward the well. She had little reason to worry, but she did anyway. The two shuffled over to the well and peered down into it. Lehru’s tail twitched near her boots.

“It’s dry,” the old man remarked, peering down into the depths of the well.

“I only just dug it, ser! G-give it a few hours; it’ll fill up!”

“Hrmph. If it doesn’t, I’ll send for you again to keep digging it deeper,” he warned.

“Th-that’s fine, ser… Thou shant be disappointed.”

The old man nodded and turned back towards the house. “All right, I’ll pay. You’re a good kid, and you done good work, far as I can tell.”

Lehru nodded and followed behind. She couldn’t fault the old man for his brusqueness. Years ago, or so Lehru’s father had told her, his wife died of aether poisoning. A piece of the moon flew all the way here from Carteneau, leaving a massive bolt of corrupted crystal cleaving through the land. And although the river water had long since become safe, old man Ramund simply refused to drink from it ever again.

Three gil clinked into her palm. Lehru looked up and beamed at the old man.

“Thank you, ser! Thou shant have any issues, I assure thee!”

Ramund grumbled and waved the girl off; he appeared to be done entertaining guests on his property for the day. Lehru returned the gesture warmly and started down the road, slinging her shovel over her shoulder.

The desert she called home rolled slowly by as Lehru walked home. The miqo’te thrust her hand into her pocket, escaping into her thoughts to fill the time. Ramund’s story stirred her memories of the Calamity, as it came to be known. Thoughts she tried not to think about.

Much had changed that day eleven years ago. The damage done by the fallen moon proved not just limited to Thanalan. Pieces reached all across Eorzea; pieces fell in Vylbrand, the Shroud. Even Coerthas in the far north, the vast land of evergreens, became plagued by eternal winter overnight, or so travelers claimed.

Here, new canyons and ravines formed along the grooves cut into the ground by falling debris, changing the courses of rivers and forcing settlements to move. Corrupted crystals — massive spires of orange spindly aether crystals — seeped aether into the land surrounding it, causing debilitating madness and almost always death for those who wandered too near. Of those who survived the initial impact, many perished from aether poisoning while attempting to carve new riverbeds around the crystals.

Although her family had been lucky enough to emerge unharmed, the same could not be said for many others. In fact, Lehru’s memory of the years after were marked by a distinct sadness that loomed over the land as much as the physical threats. A sense of defeat clung to the people for many years, as though the light within had faded.

Adventurers were scarce and in high demand in those days. The problems facing the recovering settlements were countless; there was never a shortage of work for those willing to pick up a sword. Of course, many such adventurers had sought to take advantage of the chaos, turning to banditry and the like to take what they could from the struggling populace.

Lehru seethed in silence, taking a deep breath. Things were better now. Settlements rebuilt, people recovered, and life moved on. What had once been gaping wounds in the star were now scars, forever changed but still alive. And as Lehru saw the light of her family’s hut appear in the distance, she thanked the gods for that.

It was dark by the time Lehru reached her family’s plot; a modest patch, sectioned off by crude fences. At the corner of the plot sat a house, more like a shack, really, cobbled together with planks of scavenged wood and backed with mud to form an insulating shell. That was the home she knew.

A figure stepped out from the gatepost of the entrance, a lanky lad with hair even redder than her own. “There you are!” grinned Onhex, jogging over to her. “What kept you so long? Pa’s been waiting for you.”

“I know, I know! Ser Ramund’s soil is coarser than his manners. It tooketh longer than I expected, tis all.”

Onhex laughed, ruffling her head. “Still talking like that, huh? Thee, thy, thou, thum, don’t tell me you talked like that with old Ramund!”

Lehru’s cheeks flushed, and she pushed her brother away. “S-so what if I did? Tis not of thine concern how I speak! Thy words maketh a fool of thee constantly, and nobody see fit to correct thee about it! Let me be.”

Onhex laughed and caught up with her, clapping his hands on her shoulder. “Hey, only teasing. Thou soundeth very cool, m’lady! Ow!”

“Quit it!”

The door to the shack opened, and Sif — their father — stepped out. Lehru swallowed hard and bowed her head as Onhex looked on. “Sorry for the delay, ser!” she apologized immediately.

The patriarch of the Boshori farm was a tired, spindly man. He was soon to reach his forth decade on the star, which was to say, he was an old man, wearied and splintered by the yolk of the world. Sif sighed and gestured inside. “Dinner’s getting cold. Come, eat.”

They both nodded without a word, ducking as they stepped into the house. There was little room inside the small shack. To the left, Laagi glanced back from the stove in the corner, a worried look on her face. To the right, beds laid side to side against the wall, like one giant mattress for the whole family. Ferni sat on Rizah's lap, peering over the book he had been reading to her. Her smile could illuminate the room on its own.

Lehru and Onhex quickly sat down as Ma brought out their supper: stewed popotos and onions. For all her consternation, she couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight of her children enjoying her cooking. They dug in eagerly while Sif shuffled around the table and sat down across from them.

“We're heading straight to bed after you two finish,” he said. “In the coming days, we're going to finish the harvest and sell what we can afford to.”

“How much are we keeping this year, Pa?” Lehru asked.

“Three-quarters. We’re all eating more lately, and I don’t think this harvest will sell well. We’ll have to make do with what we have.”

Such was their lot. As subsistence farmers, the majority of their crops were needed just to sustain themselves. What little they could afford to sell had to be used to buy necessities they couldn’t produce themselves; tools, materials, artisan goods. If they had an exceptional year, they might be able to buy some exotic foods to expand their diet a bit, but this wasn’t looking to be one of those years.

“So...” He sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. “... I need you all to get a good night's sleep, so you have energy for tomorrow.” Cracking a smile, Sif turned and winked at Ferni. “Even you, missy!” Ferni giggled and hid behind her brother's book.

Lehru glanced up at her father, her mouth full. At least father seemed to be in a good mood, despite her lateness. She reached into her pocket and left the pile of gil on the table. “Ramund liked the work, pa. He paid us well.” Onhex whistled.

Sif turned the three coins over between his fingers, grinning. “I'll say he did. Good work, Lehru. But don't think you're off the hook. We'll still need you for the harvest.”

Lehru's heart sank a little. She had hoped for more of a reaction. That gil could pay for new shoes, or wide-brimmed hats to help them stay cool in the heat. It wasn’t much, but good pay for just a few day’s work. But this was just how her father was, she supposed. He refused to celebrate good fortune too much, always saying how easily the tides of fortune could change. Lehru couldn’t argue, she’d seen it happen often enough. A smile would have to be enough.

She swallowed the last of her stew and scraped the bowl clean. "Of course, ser." With a bow, she walked the bowl over to her mother along with a kiss on the cheek. "Might I taketh a quick bath ere bed, pa? I smell."

“Heh, yeah you do!” Onhex teased, to Ferni’s amusement. Lehru fumed, figuratively.

"Go ahead,” Sif sighed and rubbed his temples, “but don't dawdle."

The next day, Lehru awoke early with her siblings. The morning light offered the coolest time of day to get work done, and there was much to do. Lehru stretched and pushed out the door while her siblings finished breakfast, taking stock of the farm before her. Rows upon rows of squash. A modest farm by some standards, but a lot to manage for a family like hers.

She walked out through the rows, looking over the rotund gourds. They'd grown big this year. A smile grew on her face. This was no doubt Rizah's doing; the clever boy had put in place some sort of irrigation system to keep the roots saturated, seemingly to good effect. He had a good head on his shoulders when he wasn't fretting over nonsense.

The rest of her family emerged before long, dressed plainly for a long day of work. She walked over to rejoin them, shielding her eyes from the morning sun. "Art thou ready to get started?" she asked.

"Oh, verily, milady!" Onhex snerked, bowing in an obnoxiously grandiose fashion. Lehru rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. Onhex grinned innocently in return, then addressed the others.

"All right, let’s be smart about this so we can finish early. Rizah, you and I will do the carrying. Ferni, can I trust you with the knife? Your job will be to cut the stems."

"I can carry 'em!" Ferni pouted. Onhex just laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes! Anyways, Lehru, you worked hard yesterday, so just help ma clean up the squashes we bring you." Behind him, Ferni continued hopping up and down in protest, but the rest of her family ignored her.

Sif nodded approvingly. He stood to the side of Onhex and watched him take the lead. “Then I’ll load the wagon with the cleaned goods. Laagi, make sure Lehru doesn’t miss any spots. Hop to it, the less time we’re out in the sun, the better!”

“Got it. I’ll bring the water, Ma.” Lehru nodded and went off to fill a bucket from the river. As annoying as her brother could be, he was something of a natural leader. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that he naturally tended to pop off instructions and the others naturally tended to follow them, unless the instructions were particularly stupid, which they sometimes were. Still, that was part of his appeal. Lehru couldn’t hate him for it.

Returning, she set the bucket down between herself and her mother. They wet their rags and began cleaning off the first of the pruned squashes, wiping away the dirt and grime as best they could, until the green-orange speckled vegetable shone brightly in the morning sun.

Lehru's family had grown squash as far as she could remember. It was a hardy plant. It grew well even in the arid, sand-like soil of Thanalan, and harvests were straightforward and frequent. If they got lucky and worked hard, they could enjoy maybe three harvests a year, growing even during the cold winter moons.

She and her siblings had tried, at various times in the past, to argue in favor of different crops. Figs, dates, olives, even luxuries like Saffron. Squash was seen as plain, bland, and cheap. Peasant food, in other words. A crop that they could sell to the monetarists would surely bring the family far more money than selling staples to people just as poor as they were.

But Sif always turned down such ideas. There was usually some practical reason, and Lehru had to admit, squash grew quite well given the circumstances. But it wasn’t just that. In his own words, he would rather die than turn his back on his fellow laborers to butter up the monetarists that kept them there. Lehru couldn't fault that reasoning. In all the sixteen years she'd lived here, she'd not once heard a commoner like her speak in defense of the monetarists. She doubted she ever would.

But she did wonder if there was any way for them to break out of this life of endless, back-breaking work. It wasn't herself she worried about. Her father was getting not only older, but acting older than a man his age would suggest. As the years went by, more and more he relied on her and her siblings to work around the farm. He’d often said the Calamity took years off his life, and in a way, it was true. He simply couldn't keep up anymore.

“Phew, here’s a big one, Lehru!”

“Mm, set it there; I’m still working on this one.”

A frown crossed Lehru's lips, her hand wiping along the creases of each squash that came before her. She needed to find some way to support her family soon. That was the real reason she had agreed to build ser Ramund's well. Part of the reason, she corrected herself. It was simply the right thing to do, wasn't it? The elderly have worked hard their whole lives; it's only fitting that the young labor for their wellbeing, so that they might live the last of their days in comfort.

“Ferni, you alright there?” she heard Onhex chuckle. She looked up; what sort of trouble had that rascal gotten herself into?

A few rows over, she saw Ferni squatting over a squash almost the size of her. Each hand wrapped around its large base, straining to lift the enormous specimen off the ground. Lehru wiped the sweat from her brow and looked at her questioningly. Behind her, Onhex looked on and laughed at the plight of her own creation.

“H-h-h-help!” She whimpered, as though barely able to muster the breath to speak. “It’s…slipping! I can’t… Auuugh!” She grit her teeth and heaved. Rizah, finally noticing, threw himself under the gourd, diving through the row of soil face-first to plant his hands beneath it. And not a moment too soon; Ferni’s arms gave out and dropped the squash into her brother’s waiting arms, falling back with exhaustion.

Laagi signed and dipped her rag into the bucket, only to throw it at Rizah’s face. “Clean yourself up, Rizah!”

Onhex doubled over snickering, “Give it a few years, Fern. Maybe you’ll grow up big and strong like Lehru.”

Lehru’s cheeks flushed; she slumped her shoulders as if to hide her lithe muscles. “D-doth not call me ‘big’!” she huffed, scooping up a bit of grime and throwing it at him. Onhex recoiled, batting at the slime like a cat. “Bleugh! Don’t blame me, you’re almost as strong as Rizah! Speaking of, you alright, man?”

“Settle down, kids. We’ve got a lot of work left,” Sif reminded them sternly, despite the barely-contained grin on his lips.

Rizah picked himself up, spitting dirt from his mouth and wiping off his front with the rag to no avail. “You gotta be more careful, Ferni! Look what you did!”

Ferni glanced between her brothers, stifling a giggle. Lehru smirked and resumed scrubbing her squash. “I would worry less for him than thee.” Clutching his heart, Onhex grinned without a trace of remorse as he walked over to Lehru. She saw him squat next to Laagi and give her a squeezy side-hug.

“Ack, Onhex, how are you so sweaty already?” Laagi cried with laughter.

Onhex grinned at Lehru, “Just working hard! Another year sweating away on the Boshori farm, just like I always wanted. Right Lehru?”

The words sent a jolt through Lehru’s heart; she looked down at her squash, picking it up and loading it into the wagon. She wanted to ask how he could say that, to deny it herself. But she didn’t have the heart for it. He was right. But…

“…Nothing can stay the same forever. And if it did, would that really be living?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Ahhh, well nothing ever really stays the same, you know? People get older. Someday Pa will be too old to do much of anything. Ferni might end up marrying somebody. Heh, you too, maybe.”

“Excuse me?” Sif interjected from the wagon. Onhex just grinned wider.

Lehru’s cheeks turned bright crimson. She conveniently decided to get up and deliver a squash to the wagon herself.

“Anyway, plenty of things change all the time, but that doesn’t mean everything changes all the time. Certain things can stay the same. You’ll always be my sister. Our family will always live on this land. That sort of thing.”

“Didn’t our parents buy this land in their lifetime? We’re not even a second generation in, yet.”

“We’re the first to own it, yes,” Laagi said. “A friend of your father’s helped us get the land.”

“Even centuries-old dynasties start somewhere, I guess?” Onhex sighed, straightening up. He stepped over Laagi and slapped Lehru on the shoulder. She jumped and crossed her arms at him. “Hey!”

“Listen Lehru, it’s just a saying. It’s not all-encompassing. The point is that no matter how much things change, some things endure despite everything. Got it?”

Lehru frowned and looked at the ground. She couldn’t explain why, but the idea of everything staying the same scared her. Well, that was a lie, she thought to herself. She knew why; it was a simple reason. Shaking her head, she smacked her brother in the back of his head. “Yeah, got it.”

Ferni wiped her skirt across her face, making an exaggerated retching noise at the sweat stains left behind. A moment later, the stains were forgotten as her focus shifted; while her family went inside to help Ma with dinner, Lehru stayed near the wagon. She perched over the side, leaning over to adjust the goods around in the wagon bed. Piece by piece, removing the gaps between the vegetables.

She grinned, sneaking up behind Lehru, roaring as she jumped on her leg and thrashed around. Lehru gasped, startled, and held on for dear life. “F-Ferni! Be careful, I almost fell!”

But Ferni didn’t care. She let go and hopped up the other wheel easily, sitting on the side of the wagon next to Lehru. “Gotcha!”

“Yes, yes, thou got me,” Lehru sighed, rolling her eyes. Ferni hushed up right away, watching quietly as Lehru resumed working, shuffling and stacking the wagon full. That’s Lehru, she thought. Always working hard, always focused, especially when left to do things herself. The simpler the task, the more Lehru seemed to excel in its execution. It was a skill Ferni admired. She’d always been more of a mind for complicated solutions to complicated problems, and that was something rarely needed or appreciated on a farm.

Ferni was the youngest sibling and as such, she was quite accustomed to being ignored, but she noticed things. The way Lehru’s brow tightened, the way her eyes drifted aimlessly, as if looking past the entire world. Something must be bothering her, she thinks.

“Hey Lehru, what’s the matter?”

Her sister jolted as though woken from a dream. Her eyes snapped to her, wide and awake. “Ah, hmm? T’was just thinking.”

“Clearly. ’Bout what?”

“Well,” Lehru signed, “Still upset about Ser Ramund.”

“You mean the folks who caved in his well?”

Lehru nodded. “Trying to think of some way to convince the Flames to investigate. It had to be deliberate.”

That’s right, Ferni thought. Lehru had agreed to build Ramund a new well after learning that the Flames refused to investigate the collapse of the old well. It was probably a kid from a neighboring farm. Ramund didn’t have the kindest reputation, so he was an easy target. Ferni thought that he should keep his head down, like her, but adults never listened to her.

“Well, you built him a new one, right? Isn’t that more important?”

“No. Those who did it should also face punishment. Otherwise they’ll never learn, and others will see that it’s acceptable to torment Ser Ramund as much as they like.”

Ferni smiled. This was why she liked Lehru. Her sister often disagreed with her but always told her why, unlike the adults. She swelled with pride, scooting over to pat Lehru on the back. “Maybe you’ll get them one day, Leh. But I think it’s enough that you helped build him a new one.”

“Hah. I hope so, Fern.”

Market days were the most exciting days of the year for Lehru and her siblings. A rare chance to get off the farm. To spend a day in the big city of Ul’dah, where adventurers, commoners, rich and poor, folk of all kinds came through to buy and sell all manners of goods. No time of the year offered as much excitement, especially this year, when Pa announced that he needed to stay home with Ma.

It wasn’t much of a surprise. While Lehru and her siblings dealt with selling the surplus, the rest of the harvest needed to be preserved, and stored in the cellar. It was delicate work. Too delicate for her rambunctious siblings. Any produce incorrectly preserved would make surviving winter that much harder, and the winter harvest was always the least surefire. And besides; it let Pa and Ma stay home. Travel was getting harder for them.

Finally, Lehru thought, a chance to explore the city properly, without Pa looking over her shoulder. Her excitement permeated her body, from the time they pulled the wagon onto the road to the time they rolled through the Gate of Nald. It took half a bell to get the cart through the crowded streets, but soon they arrived at the Sapphire Avenue Exchange.

The market was full of all sorts. Lehru’s eyes devoured each of them in complete detail, especially the more adventurous souls passing through. The ways they carried their swords, the way they dressed, ate, acted. Sometimes she could catch a glimpse of a Sultansworn — a true knight of Ul’dah — through the crowds, but never for very long. They always seemed to be going somewhere else.

Quickly, each of them assumed their prescribed roles. It was a routine they’d long perfected. Onhex was the salesman; he flagged folk down and talked them up. To him, selling a squash was child’s play. He could make you feel like squash was the one thing missing in your life, if he set his mind to it. Rizah handled payments. None of his siblings knew numbers as well as he did, or as Onhex would put it, he was awful at everything else. Lehru would be the muscle, moving the produce off the cart and handing them over to the customers. And lastly, Ferni was the ideal crier. Her voice carried well and drew the attention of everyone, and she knew how to look and sound cute. A fact she enjoyed reminding her siblings of!

Ferni took a deep breath and shouted her jingle every quarter bell, “Squash so fresh, it’s worth the wait! A taste so good, don’t hesitate!” She’d come up with it herself years ago, and was so proud of it, she begged some poor clerk for three bells straight to write it down for her. He eventually agreed, and she cherished the piece of paper ever since. Her siblings weren’t quite as impressed, but it was hard to have a bad time when Ferni was having a good time, and in truth, none of the others could think of a better catcall.

As the crowd started moving towards them, Lehru gulped nervously. “Here they come…!”

“Rizah, count faster!”

“Stop interrupting. You’re making me forget the numbers!”

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!”

“Shut it!”

“Go go go g—ow!”

Lehru smacked Onhex in the head, dragging him away from his little brother a fulm. “Leave him be and have some patience. We shalt know soon enough.”

“Aww, but that’s no fun,” Onhex protested, folding his arms. “Surprised you can still hit that hard. You were moving like a soul possessed, Lehru.”

“Super strong!” chimed in Ferni, quite pleased with herself.

Lehru aired out her shirt, exhausted. “I didn’t think we’d sell all of them in one day…”

“Me neither, Pa’s gonna think we’re pulling his leg…” agreed Onhex.

“Fifty-seven gil,” announced Rizah.

Onhex spun around. “What’s…wait, how many?”

“Fifty-seven!”

“Wow!” yelped Ferni

“Twelve…” Lehru swore under her breath, grinning despite her exhaustion. “That’s a really good harvest.”

“Well, there is a war going on,” Rizah noted. “Some of the customers were talking about it. Food’s been going to support Ala Mhigan independence.”
Ferni piped up once more. “What’s that mean?”

“It means there’s not as much food here, so more people are learning about the joys of squash,” Onhex guessed wildly.

“Or they’re buying our squash to send to Ala Mhigo,” Valoh added.

“Either way, we made a killing…” her brother agreed.

“Shh!” Onhex cut in, pushing the coin purse into Rizah’s stomach. “Keep your voice, and let’s get going, before someone decides to free us of our haul, yeah?” Lehru nodded, heading to the front of the wagon. Onhex’s arm blocks her way.

“Nuh-uh, you’ve been working hard all day. Me and Rizah can pull the cart. Take a rest in the back.”

Another of his stupid grins. Sighing, Lehru carefully stepped up the cart wheel and climbed into the back with Ferni. The wagon started to roll out of the city. Lehru patted Ferni’s head, hoping to calm her from bouncing around excitedly.

“Hehehe, Ma and Pa are going to be so surprised!”

“I know Ma’s been worried about food lately. I hope this puts her at ease.”

“Tis sure it shall, Rizah.”

“Yeah yeah, save the celebrations for home, yeah? We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”

Ferni collapsed into Lehru’s lap and laid her head against her shoulder. It had been a long day. Lehru was surprised she had stayed energized so long. Despite her best efforts to hide it, she was exhausted. A full day slinging squashes around was enough to make anyone tired. Her arms ached, so she wrapped them around Ferni and closed her eyes. Onhex was right, maybe a small nap would help.

“Shhh, keep quiet if y’know what’s good for you.”

Lehru’s eyes shot open. She craned her neck up over the sides of the cart, looking for the source of the words. She didn’t recognize the voice, nor did it come from the cart. Someone else? She looked at her brothers; both of them, heads straight ahead, uncannily so.

“Onhex?”

“Shh.”

“Stop talking. Let’s go,” one said, then the other.

Lehru frowned; why were they acting strangely? She swept her gaze once more over her surroundings. They were in the slums just outside the wall. Pa had said this is where the Ala Mhigan refugees, fleeing the invasion of Garlemald years ago, ended up scraping out a living. Her brothers always warned her to avoid those slums and never to go near them without them. Now she understood why.

A short way from the road, obscured by makeshift tents and piles of scavenged refuse, a hyurean couple laid strewn across the ground. Over them, a group of three hyurs - ala mhigans, by the look of them — stood over them. One held the Ul’dahn man by his hair.

“If you don’t have anything valuable, why don’t you tell us where you live?” he growled, “or should we start getting creative?”

That was the voice she heard. Lehru grimaced, lifting Ferni off her lap. The little girl blinked and yawned. “Wha…Lehru?”

“Lehru, don’t! We don’t want to get involved in this.”

It was too late. She had already hopped off the cart. Her brothers groaned in unison, hurrying to untangle themselves from the cart.

Lehru paid them no mind. Her blood boiled. Maybe her brothers could overlook something like this, but not her. She marched up to the surly group and crossed her arms, barking loudly to capture their attention. “What art thou doing, sers?”

The talkative one — the leader, perhaps — turned to look over Lehru. Not a particularly impressive sight. Another scrawny, underfed Ul’dahn lowlife. He waved his hand dismissively. “None of your business, pipsqueak. Fuck off, you and your friends.”

Onhex and Rizah ran up behind her; Onhex laid his arm on Lehru’s shoulder, leading with his usual disarming smile. “Do pardon the intrusion, guys! We were just wondering if we could direct you to where you seem to be heading? Ul’dah’s a big place, folk’re bound to get lost, but don’t worry, I can get you where you’re looking to go.”

“The hells are you on about, kid? We’re not looking for anything.”

“Really? Not even this?” He tugged the coin purse off Rizah’s belt — much to Rizah’s silent protests — and bounced the purse in his hand, letting them listen to the jingle. “Why not head on out and enjoy a nice room at the inn? Gotta be better than spending your evening out here, yeah?”

Lehru turned at her brother’s offer, outrage spilling over her face. “Art thou mad? Tis -our- money! Pa—“ She stopped mid-sentence, Onhex’s elbow digging into her ribs. “Don’t mind her, fellas, she’s cranky from a long day of work. What do you say?”

The thieves looked at each other, seeming to reach some sort of silent consensus. At last, they stepped back from the bloodied couple and moved around them. Lehru trembled with rage as the leader stepped up right in front of her, staring down at her. She clenched her fist and raised her head, glaring back with equal intensity. He was the first to look away, grabbing the sack of coins from Onhex’s hand. “Listen to yer brother, lass. Smart kids ought to know their place.”

She didn’t remember how she ended up on top of him. She couldn’t hear the words her brothers were screaming. Even Ferni’s voice was there, somewhere. Her hands were going numb, but she kept swinging them anyway, harder. Harder. —

She blinked and shook her head, finding herself on her back. Her vision blurred in front of her, her ears rang, but the taste of blood, that sense worked quite clearly. She wiped her mouth with her arm, barely registering the streak of red she left on it. She didn’t have time. One of the other thieves jumped on her. She saw him straddle her, a knife in hand, ready to plunge.

I should stop him, she thought. And so she told her arms to do so, but they refused. That’s alright, she thinks. At least I died doing the right thing. I can’t believe Onhex tried to pay them off. And as though summoned by her thoughts, an Onhex-colored streak flew past her vision, throwing the thief into the mud. Lehru breathed.

She rolled onto her side, rubbing her head. Focus, focus! She glanced up; the cart. The remaining thief, the one in the back, ran towards Ferni, reaching for her. Lehru groaned and clawed at the ground, sliding her boots through the mud to jump in the way, but her feet caught on her dress. Rizah got there first, grabbing the thief by the belt and throwing them to the ground, catching their jaw on the wagon wheel on the way down.

Lehru’s arms grabbed him by the back of his head, pushing his face into the mud. He thrashed and pushed against her, but she pushed her knee into his back, pushing her weight down on top of him. The mud slowly turned a brighter shade of brown, bubbling, bubbling…

“Lehru!”

Rizah pulled her off, flipping her onto her back. The thief pulled himself from the mud and gasped, ejecting a stream of mud from his air-pipes violently. Lehru scrambled to her feet and looked around. The thief Onhex tackled took a kick to the butt, hobbling over to their leader. They cringed and grabbed at his clothes, dragging him deeper into the slums. Just like that, nothing remained of the thieves but the streaks of blood flowing downhill from Ul’dah.

Lehru collapsed to the ground, shaking as the rush leaves her. Suddenly, the faint taste of iron on her tongue felt suffocating. She leaned over to spit out as much as she could. Rizah climbed into the cart with Ferni to calm her. Onhex rushed over to the couple and helped them to their feet.

“Thank you, young man. All of you, really.” The lady stammered, collecting her nerves. “If you hadn’t done something…” She trailed off. Her husband pulled her close.

“We’d like to reward you,” he said firmly, reaching into his coat. He pulled out a single coin, offering it to Onhex, who took it carefully, turning it over.

“This is a hundred gil coin!”

The man nodded, pulling his wife towards the city. “A sorry sum for our lives, but it’s all we have. Please, take it.”

Onhex stared at the coin — one he’d never seen before — as he walked back to the cart, picking up the sack of their earnings as he does. “Lehru… We got a hundred gil.”

“Lehru! What in the gods’ names happened? Where have you all been?”

Laagi rushed to Lehru’s side, pressing her hands against her daughter’s swollen cheeks. Looking up, Lehru struggled to smile back. “I’m all right, ma…”

“All right?” Onhex scoffed proudly and set the cart down. “She’s a hero! Stood up to a trio of thugs and sent ‘em running home with their tails between their legs!”

“Did what?” Sif muttered.

“Weren’t like the rest of us did nothing,” Rizah added quietly, helping Ferni to the ground. She wore a worried look on her face, fidgeting towards Lehru. “…Is she going to be okay?”

“I’m asking again; what the hells happened?” growled Sif.
A silence hung over the family, broken by Rizah. “We were riding home from the market and rode past a couple getting mugged. Lehru jumped out to stop them, and…”

“Oh gods…” gasped Laagi, clasping her hands over her mouth.

Lehru glared at Rizah, trying to calm her anxious mother. “Tis all right, ma. Doth not worry thyself sick, I just need to wash up.”

Laagi pursed her lips and pushed Lehru inside. “Yes, go, go! Clean yourself up and change out the water in the basin when you’re done! Now, one of you explain what the hells happened!” She rounded on the trio.

Lehru nodded and stepped inside, walking over to the wash basin. She dipped her hands in, scrubbing the dried blood out from between the grooves of her knuckles. Sif walked in after her, shutting the door behind him. Stealing a glance, she kept her eyes down. She ought to wait for the reprimand she knew was coming, but she needed to speak first.

“Pa, we got a reward for helping. Five hundred gil.”

Silence. Lehru looked up at him, hopeful. “T’was more than the harvest! With that kind of money—“

She recoiled as Sif’s hand stung her cheek.

“…Pa, I—“

“Quiet!” Sif boomed.

Lehru straightened up and obeyed.

“How many times must we go over this, Lehru. What the hells were you thinking? A hundred gil? Do you think that money came freely? You paid for it with your bodies, nearly with your lives! Look at your brothers. They’re barely standing on their feet, and you? You won’t be fit for farm work in days! Days we can hardly afford if we’re to get another harvest in before winter.”

“Pa, I can still turn the fields for—“

“Oh, no you can’t, Leh. You’ve been knocked around the head and I’ll not have you work like that, but what’s more, you’re a near full grown lass and you still haven’t learned to keep your nose out of other people’s business! You could have ridden on by and been home two bells ago. Already in bed with a full belly and ready to turn fields with your brothers, but no.”

Lehru’s ears pinned back with frustration as she rubbed her cheek. “Thou would haveth me ignore a stranger in need? T’wasn’t—Nngh!”

“Speak properly.”

Lehru’s face contorted, eyes glistening. She straightened herself up once more. “…It’s not right, Pa. I won’t walk past good folk being wronged and pretend it’s not my problem, even if they are from the city.”

“You know what’s not right? Having to choose who gets to go without supper when we run out of food each winter. Having to beg our neighbors for scraps. That’s an evil I’d like to be rid of, and I mean gone! Did you even think about what might happen if they remember your face? What could happen to your mother — your sister — if they followed you back here?”

Lehru’s heart turned over on itself. She hadn’t thought about that at all. Twelve, what had she done? If anything happened to them…but… But, even so…

“But…Pa, it’s still wrong to ignore people in need! You didn’t raise me to be like that! Why’d you read me all those stories if not to follow their example?”

Sif shook his head, waving off Lehru’s protests. “You and those damn stories. I wish I’d never brought that book home. Listen, Lehru. People write about their ideals in stories because stories are the only places where ideals can survive. In the real world, ideals crumble in the best of cases. Or at worst, like now, ideals make life worse for those living them.”

Lehru winced. Somehow, those words stung harsher than each of the slaps put together. Turning, she shuffled to the bed and crawled all the way in, curling up against the wall. “It can’t be wrong to help people.”

A voice called out from the field, but Lehru couldn’t make it out. She needed a break, a moment to think. So, as always, she stole away during lunch to her hiding spot. One just had to follow the creek upstream until reaching a deep gash in the mountain, where the chunk of Dalamud carved a scar into the ground. Inside the large gash, sound rarely escaped, and the raised ridges kept her out of sight. It was a place where she could read, bathe, and relax without being bothered.

She laid back against the cool stone, turning the pages of her book. It was a new tale — Heavensward — recently published in the great northern nation of Ishgard. She’d barely put it down since she spent her savings on it. A captivating tale of betrayal, loss, revenge, and reconciliation. Each time she read it, she loved it more.

“Pa really chewed you out, huh Lehru?” a voice by her ear said.

The young miqo’te nearly jumped out of her skin, scrambling onto the ground to get away from her older brother, who promptly fell into a fit of laughter. Lehru’s cheeks flushed as she looked away. “Th-Thal’s balls! What art thou doing here?”

Onhex grinned and shrugged, looking around the roomy cave. “It’s a nice spot, I’ll give you that. I might even join you for a bit, actually. But I’m curious; aren’t you supposed to be staying home? What are you going to tell Pa and Ma?”

Lehru stood up, brushing dirt from her dress. “…T’was going to tell them I was helping Ser Ramund again.”

“Oh, huh. That’s not bad, actually. Maybe I helped you out with that. You know, sometimes you just need a man to do these sorts of things.” He grinned widely at the disgusted look on Lehru’s face.

“Oh, fuck you.”

He laughed, swinging his hoe over his shoulder. “Still reading that book? Haven’t you got it memorized yet?”

“Not yet. Only the big scenes.”

“Right, right. And uh, what’s this over here?” he asked, sauntering deeper into the rut and poking at a wooden pole leaned against a protruding root. It seemed to be the handle of a discarded tool, cut to around thirty ilms in length, a rather conspicuous measure. Lehru swallowed.

“…Practice.”

Onhex grinned, wheeling around. “No shit? You’re training to sword fight now?”

Lehru rubbed her arm as she looked at the broken handle. “Just…pretending,” she admitted. Onhex went quiet for a moment, studying Lehru and then the ‘sword’.

“Well, why not make it practice? Here!”

Lehru recoiled and threw her hand out in front of her. Once she peeked, she realized she was holding the ‘sword’ in her hand, and Onhex now stood opposite her in the cave, his hoe held in both hands, turned around handle-first, like some sort of unwieldy bastard sword.

“Wait, wait, you want to fight?”

“Yeah! It’s not pretending if you’re actually training, is it? Besides, how are you gonna become a hero or whatever if you don’t at least know how to sword fight? All heroes know how to sword fight!” he teased, keeping his point towards her. Lehru huffed, adjusting her grip on the handle to bring its ‘point’ forward towards Onhex.

“Don’t go easy on me, then,” she demanded, taking a deep breath. She charged across the distance, thrusting her stick at Onhex’s chest. He easily parried it and swept into Lehru’s center, body-checking her back to where she started. Wheezing, Lehru shook off the strike and lunged to his flank, slashing at his leg, only to once more meet wood instead.

“Yeoww, take it easy! You’re swinging way too hard for a spar!” Onhex protested, sweeping Lehru’s ‘blade’ around and jabbing at her center. Lehru skid back and gripped her stomach, feeling as though she might throw up. He watched and dropped his guard, wringing his arm out.

“You swing like a cyclops, you know that?” he groaned. “Despite your toughness, you’ve got no technique. You can’t just rush an opponent like heroes do in your books, you know. That’s a luxury only fictional characters get. In real life, you’ve got to approach things a little more carefully if you want to win.”

Rather than answer, Lehru charges him again, and once more he stamps out of the way, punishing her careless strikes with rapid counters of his own. But no matter how red her skin became, nor how sore her muscles ached, she kept going, rushing after Onhex until at last he tired.

Three bells, four hundred and thirty-seven strikes, and finally she landed one on him.

Lehru panted against the cold rock ground of her cave. Onhex laid beside her. Both drenched with sweat, panting, and chuckling at the ridiculousness of their impromptu duel. At last, Onhex broke the silence.

“You’re pretty shite, but you’ve got spirit, at least.”

Lehru couldn’t argue with that assessment, as much as she wanted to. Her brother was surprisingly good with a ‘sword’, even one in the form of a hoe.

“Thou art quite skilled too. Hath thou been practicing?”

“Hah, nah.”

“Why not? Thou couldst make money with thy skills.”

Onhex rolled his eyes and reached over, punching Lehru in the shoulder. “That’s your dream, not mine. Besides, it doesn’t work like that.”

“What doth thou mean?”

“First of all, you can’t just show up like, ‘hi, I can sword fight, give me money.’ You have to take work that actually exists. Like bounty hunting — finding a wanted criminal and bringing them in to the Brass Blades or Flame — maybe I could do that. But just because I’m better than you doesn’t mean I can win against people who actually know what they’re doing. I’d be dead in a week.”

Lehru swallowed hard, frowning at the ceiling. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, though mayhap thou sell thyself short.”

“Maybe, but that’s a risk. And that’s why ma and pa don’t want you adventuring either, I think. It’s definitely why I don’t.”

“I thought thou supported me.”

“It’s not one or the other, Lehru. I know it’s important to you, and I want you to be happy. But I know it’s important to the rest of us that you live. We all want you to stay here, to be safe. Because we love you, stupid.”

Lehru blushed, pursing her lips uncomfortably. “It’s not that I don’t love you all too, you know. I just…”

“I get it. But there’s one other thing. I don’t want you to change.”

“Change? What doth thou mean?” Lehru asked, sitting up.

“You’re gonna kill people, Lehru.” Onhex folded his arms behind his head. “It’s not just monsters out there, or…story book villains. If you go through with your plans, you’re going to end up killing people. Normal people like you or me, or old man Ramund. People that fell on hard times and did bad things because they had no choice. I don’t want that to change you.”

“It won’t change me,” Lehru replied firmly. “Thou sayeth they had no choice, but tis always a choice. I shant cease being thy sister for having slain one like that. Not that I would have to kill in the first place. Thou maketh it sound like an executioner’s job.”

“Maybe. I hope you’re right. All I know is what people say. But some folks might rather die than face themselves at their worst. You might not always have a choice,” Onhex sighed. He sat up and pushed himself upright, picking up his hoe.

“I ought to get back, and you should too, before Pa gets upset. Just think about what I said, alright?”

“I shall,” she promised. Her ears flickered as she listened to her brother’s footsteps echo out of the cave and fade away.

She was alone again. Sighing, she picked up her ‘sword’ and leaned it once more against the wall, shutting her eyes tight.

“I won’t change.”

Unease loomed over the dinner table. All six members of the Boshori family ate in silence, casting nervous glances at each other. Everyone but Lehru, that is. Unlike the rest of her family, she had arrived with a look on her face, a trepidations resolve that was all too familiar.

Lehru scraped the soup from the bottom of her bowl, gathering it in her spoon. She’d wolfed down dinner. She needed to speak, and had a feeling she wouldn’t get a chance to return to her meal once she did. Her gaze drifted over to Ferni, quietly spooning up her dinner. Sorry, little one.

“Pa, I want to be a knight.”

Laagi sighed, “Not this again, Lehru…”

“Out of the question,” he snapped.

“Pa, at least hear her out…”

“There’s nothing to hear! We’re barely getting by, and Ferni isn’t old enough to replace the amount of work Lehru can do, not by half!”

“I’m trying!”

“Pa, you won’t need to harvest so much once I start earning gil. I can help more out there! Thou — you saw how much it pays!”

Sif slammed his fist against the table. Ferni yelped, slinking lower into her chair. “I won’t support this family with blood money! Listen here, lass. Adventurers only help folk when it’s convenient. When the pay is good. You were too young to remember the Calamity well enough to see their true nature. When the going gets tough, they’re little more than bandits, taking what they please from folk ‘beneath’ them!”

“Pa, Lehru wouldn’t—”

“She’d never!”

Lehru fumed, her eyes stinging. “Is that what you think of me? That I’ll sink to common banditry? I know what I want to be, and I’ll not take what isn’t mine from others! I’d rather starve!”

“Oh, just stop, Lehru!” hissed Laagi. She fumed at Sif’s side, digging her nails into her arms. “You don’t get to have everything your way! Honestly, Sif should have never read you those stupid books! Full of nothing but nonsense and lies, poison you naively lapped up. This is farm is your lot. You were born on this farm, raised on this farm, and one day you’ll die on this farm. Dreams and ambitions are fancies of the lordlings in Ul’dah. Folk like us; we get by only through hard work and knowing our place, like your father!”

Rizah’s ears pinned back as he rested his hand on Laagi’s shoulder. “Ma…”
A stunned silence lingered over the dinner table. Lehru’s eyes glistened as she looked down. Her cheeks burned, nearly matching the color of her hair. Choking, she forces out a feeble protest. “It’s… not right. Neither of you is making any sense!”

“Life’s not right, Lehru. Life’s not fair. Folk like us have to live out here, working ourselves into the grave just to feed ourselves while the rich folk in town laze about. What of it? Do you think it’s more right to leech off them, feeding off their scraps than it is to work hard out here, and earn what you get? You’re the one not making sense, girl. Speaking of right and wrong all day, but you can’t face that you’d be in the pocket of the monetarists as an adventurer.”

“I wouldn’t! I’d help the people, whoever they are! And I wouldn’t just stay in Ul’dah, either! I’d visit other lands, help people wherever I can, and…” Lehru’s fists tightened. “If I can become a Temple Knight, I’ll be able to support you all while also protecting people!”

She looked up at her parents. The figures who raised her, who loved her even during the most meager of years. Why couldn’t they see? What words did she need to find to convince them? She racked her brain but fell short, as always. She lacked the words, the speech, to make them budge.

“I don’t care if you want to be the next Sultana, Lehru. No daughter of mine is leaving their family behind on some fool’s ambition to be something they’re not.” Sif said firmly.

“Finish your supper and go to bed, Lehru,” Laagi fumed. “If you’ve enough energy to make such a fuss, you can work the fields with your siblings. I pray it reminds you of where you belong.”

Lehru couldn’t think. She couldn’t find the words. She felt so confident, so convinced at the start, but her parents… Under the combined pressure of their denial, she crumbled.

“Lehru…” Ferni whined, peeking out from under the table.

Onhex clasped his hand over hers gently. “Leh…take a minute, clear your head.”

Lehru tugged her hand free and nodded, drawing herself from the table and pushing out the door of the shack, into the darkness beyond.

“Ugh…” Laagi sighed, walking around to collect her bowl for cleaning. “Someone check on her, please. I’m liable to fly off the handle again.”

Give it some time, she’s…upset.” Onhex warned, looking down at his untouched dinner.

Lehru’s foot shuffled through the dust of the road, where the path to her family’s farm intersected with the road to Ul’dah. The cool night wind blew across her face, still raw and stinging from the tears she shed, now dry. She’d cried herself empty, standing there at the crossroads for bells on end. But her parents’ words still lingered in her head.

This is your lot.

This is your lot.

This… is my lot.

“Better head back soon, or you’ll be tired tomorrow, kid,” a familiar voice said from behind her. Her father’s voice. She turned around. There he stood, hands in his pockets and a sad look on his face. He didn’t look at her. It made her blood boil.

“I’m not going back,” she whispered.

“Lehru, look.” He signed, rubbing his neck. “We need you on the farm. And this adventuring stuff, it’s not a surefire thing, and if it doesn’t pan out, it won’t be just us who suffer for it. You’ll be on your own, trying to make ends meet without any of us to help. Your mother and I don’t want to wonder if you’ve died in some Ishgardian ditch.”

Something bitter bubbled up from within Lehru, forming on her tongue like poison. “So now you’re concerned for me? You thought only of yourselves, earlier. You and Ma threaten to disown me because you’re concerned for me?”

“Lehru, that’s not what she—”

“Not what she meant?” roared Lehru, looking her father in the eyes. “What did she mean, Pa? What do you mean? All this talk about knowing my place, accepting my lot; you’re both hypocrites! Did you and Ma accept your lot back in the tribe? Or did you follow your hearts and choose to be true to yourselves? Answer me!”
Sif bristled, stepping forward. But so does Lehru. “That’s not at all the same, Lehru. Don’t talk about things you weren’t even born to see.”

“It is the same! How can it be right for you to leave your tribe behind for your own love, yet it is wrong for me to leave the farm to do what I feel is right?”

“The circumstances were different.”

“The only differences in circumstance is that then, thou were the one who wished for change, and now, thou art the ‘Nuhn’. Thou cannot fault me for following thy example, father!”

“You test a father’s patience, Lehru.”

“I don’t care. I’m tired of being held back from doing the right thing. I’m tired of being told to keep my head down and overlook wrongdoings. I love you all, but if I must choose between my family and doing the right thing, I’ve made my choice.” Lehru said firmly, standing upright. “I’m going to become a knight, with or without your blessing. If thou must disown me, tis thy own decision. I’ll support you and Ma with all I can, because you will always be my parents. You can give away the gil if it troubles you to know that it was earned by someone pursuing her beliefs.”

Turning, Lehru drew a deep breath and began the long walk towards Ul’dah. Sif called after her. She knew what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. She chose this path. She would see it through to the end. Returning home was no longer an option. She would have to make—

“Lehru! Wait…”

Lehru turned immediately.

Ferni jogged up behind her, breathing hard. Her small hand clung to Lehru’s arm.

“Pa…said you’re leaving?”

Lehru’s heart ached. She dropped to a knee, steadying her little sister on the shoulders. “Yes, Fern. I don’t know for how long. I’ll try to write when I can.”

Ferni sniffed, trembling in Lehru’s arms. “Do you not like us…?”

“N-no! It’s nothing like that, it’s just…” Lehru sighed. How could she explain?

“Is it just something you have to do?”

“Oh. Yes, exactly that, Fern.”

Ferni nodded, snaking her arms around her big sister. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll…miss you too.” Lehru’s heart swelled. She bit the inside of her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Yeah, me too,” Onhex’s voice cut in. Lehru looked up to find him leaning against the fence post. He waved awkwardly at her. “Guess this is it. Not quite how you were hoping things would go, but… ah, things happen. Maybe he’ll come around.”

Lehru doubted it. She’d not seen Pa get heated over too many things, but when he did, he rarely seemed to budge. “Mm. Maybe.”

Onhex grinned, folding his arms. “Anyway, don’t worry about the farm. Ferni’s getting stronger every day, and if I prod Rizah enough, he’ll work enough for us to get by. We’ll manage without you.”

“Yeah!” Ferni piped up. “I’ll do more!”

“Thank you, Onhex, Fern… I’ll send money as soon as I can. Make sure Pa doesn’t throw it away.”

“I will. Now go on, be a hero.”

Ferni ran back to Onhex’s side. Wiping her eyes, Lehru stood up just fast enough to catch a pack Onhex threw her way. Inside, she found her scant belongings; clothes, food, and her well-worn copy of Oathsworn. For the second time today, Lehru cried. But this was better than the last. With one last wave, she said her silent farewell to her family and turned, planting one foot ahead of the other, down the road to Ul’dah.