(no subject)

[naeo]

Final Fantasy XI
The Tango of Fate & The Minstrel's Song

I
The Samba of Renewal

The young man woke up in a darkened room. His eyes adjusting slowly to the slight light the candle granted.
No recollection of his name could be recalled.
No memories of his previous life.
But he knew he had survived something horrible.
Sitting on his straw bed, He noticed yellow birds commonly called Chocobos, their wark being the source of him waking for the time in months. His caretaker was a female, he knew this from the voice that calmly talked him out of his nightmares caused by his inner demons.
Still weakened from his injuries and the deterioration of his muscles from being still for three months made him unable to sit up. The most he was able to do was lift his arm a few inches off his bed.
The bell rang from the door and he looked through his shaggy blonde hair as best he could to see a short Tarutaru come through.
"Oh, you're finally-winally up!" She said, petting a chocobo that moved over towards her. "You've been out for three-four months since I found you. Do you know where you are?"
The young man shook his head as best he could
"You're in the Chocobo Stables in Rabao. I had you brought here from the doctor's office in Jeuno once your were stable enough." She lifted the mug of water to the man's lips and let him slowly drink from it. "Can you speak? My name's Lio-Brea try to say it, Lio will suffice for now."
"Lee-oh" The man grunted out, his throat raw from misuse.
"You can speak!" She grinned and danced slightly out of joy. "What's your name?"
The man shrugged, unsure.
"Well, I'll just have to make a name up for you until you remember the one you were given at birth." Her fingers met the temples on the side of her head as she thought.
"Azeria Menos! After my brother will do! You like?"
"Yes."
"Then that's your name till you remember! Think you can get up? It's been a while since you've been out of that bed, let's try. Rocko!" She hollered the name and a big Galka came through.
"What ya need, Lio?"
"Give Azeria a hand. He's finally woken up!"
"Well, Altana must favor this one. Comon little man, up you go." The rough hands of the Galka heaved the thin Hume out of his bed and was rewarded with a scream of pain.
"Hmm, his wounds must still be sore." Lio muttered, waving her hands around the bare chest of the Hume where stitches held together gashes in his flesh. "Your bones have healed nicely thanks to the salves and my limited magic. The bruises will still there for a bit. All you have is some flesh wounds, Azeria."
"Just...help me....sit up...please" Azeria groaned while he pulled himself up slowly with the help of Rocko.
Azeria glanced around his surroundings. No weapons, armor, clothes, or anything that would give his memories a jog were around. The room he stayed in was minimal, consisting of a straw bed, a wooden chest, and a wicker chair.
"Rabao, that's in Altepa, correct?" The injured Hume asked.
"Yep-yep!" Lio said. "It's warm, so the healing process would have been easier for you."
"Did you find me with anything, Miss Lio?"
"The only thing that was remotely salvageable off of your body was this ring." She went into the chest and grabbed a ring insigned with a tree. "It's the Windurstian Crest. I figured that's where you're from, but you were so badly damaged that even the Star Sybil couldn't identify you. Enough talk though, I'll get you some food and then you go back to sleep, rest until the morning, then I'll grab a wheel chair and take you around to get some sun on you, and get you a hair cut, your hair is really long."
The Galka left the room and Lio went to get food. Upon her returned, she fed Azeria and laid him back down. Within moments he was asleep.

Shouts and yelling were drowned away by the clashing of metal against metal and screams from metal meeting flesh. Death permeated the scent of the air and blood painted ancient marble flooring. A soft melody escaped the lips of a blonde Hume in a purple puffy hat and vest that ended just below his chest; the opening in the vest with golden chains connecting each end. The closest of enemies fell onto the floor asleep, those that resisted were met with a wall of sound escaping the lips of the violet clad man.
"Hurry up!" A female shouted, the name she added lost to the ears that heard it. "Fall back, we must protect the chamber!"
Linkshell, that's what the common word was for it. The man once belonged to one that had claimed one of the highest ranks in Vana'diel.
Gathered together, the thirty companions stood in battle ranks, the Hume in the center of it all, a shadowed object in his hands, lips moving but the sound was muted.
Waves of serpent creatures flooded through the gates, fire, ice, lightning, all combinations of elements sending the first three waves into walls until the casters had to rest, then the melee were into the fray. The Hume stood back, multiple shadowed objects being drawn from a large bag, each one of different size or width. some were touched to his lips, others were held as a hand ran across the open of it. Healing spells hit their marks from the back, bloodied figures suddenly becoming healthy and whole. Finally the onslaught of enemies retreated, and the thirty rejoiced, cheering and hugging each other.

Azeria woke up long after the sun had risen, the immense heat causing discomfort on his sore wounds. Lio was sitting beside him working on a wood carving when he made a movement. "Ah, Azeria! You mutter in your sleep alot you know." she said, handing him a glass of water. "Something about Altana's Grace, and ancients most hallowed."
"I wish I knew, Lio" Azeria mumbled, using all of his strength to sit up. "So...how about getting me out of this bed, and into the daylight?"
Lio smiled wide and wheeled a wheelchair around, lending Azeria a walking stick to hold himself up with, then aiding him over to the nearby chair. "We'll just stick to the neighborhood for now, Rabao's pretty big, I don't want to over exert you."

Outside, Azeria had to squint against the harsh light. Children ran across the sand kicking a ball, and old women sat in rocking chairs working on cross stitches. The first stop for Lio and Azeria was the hair cut parlor, where Azeria quickly just asked for a trim and layering, making his hair fall just above his shoulder blades in a choppy fashion.
"Still to long" Lio said, pushing the chair bound Hume onwards towards an oasis.
"This is the biggest spot in Altepa. Adventurers from all over stop here to eat, rest, restore ammunition and get new armor. Do you remember anything that might be helpful in discovering your true identity, Azeria? I'm sure you'd have been here countless times training and getting stronger in your travels."
"No, just fragments in my nightmares."
"Well, maybe they'll piece together! You should keep a journal, it might help!"
"Maybe." Azeria stared off in the distance at the oasis. Something familiar about this area. he thought, concentrating on the small white figures twirling in the distances. Moogles.
After the tour, Lio returned Azeria to his sleeping area then brought him food and drink. Afterwards, the Hume nodded off to sleep undisturbed by his nightmares.

In the following weeks Azeria began to relearn how to walk, slowly he was able to master the skill everyone took for advantage and was soon able to wander about town by himself. He dressed himself in loose fitting clothes that Lio pointed out his race preferred, shirt and pants were blue and white patterned, and the gloves and boots were a light brown. A month later, Lio took Azeria through the tunnels leading to Bastok, and paid for the airship fare for Azeria to return the nation from where his ring came from.
"Azeria, be careful and be sure to come visit me when you're able to make the trip on your own."
"I will Lio. Thank you for everything." He did something that felt weird, he picked up the little Tarutaru and hugged her tightly. "I owe you my life, Lio." he said as he set her onto the ground.
Tears formed at the corner of the big round eyes, wiping them away Lio reached into her pocket and gave the Hume his ring, and a few hundred gil to get him started. "This should sustain you for a week or two. You can find odd jobs all throughout the town to earn a couple bucks, or kill monsters outside for their hides and wings and what not. Adventurers pay high prices for animal parts to use in crafting." The Taru reached into her backpack and gave the Hume a rusted dagger. "It's not much, but it belonged to my brother. I hope you make better use of it than he did, Azeria." She stuffed a piece of paper in his pocket afterwards "It's a map of Windurst, a complete one. You'll need it to find your way around I'm sure."
From the west, a flying ship came into view. Propellers slowing down to allow an easy landing. "That's your ride, Azeria. Be safe."
Piercing blue eyes looked down at the Taru and his lips curved into a wide smile. "I'll try."

Sitting on the dock, the Tarutaru waved until the airship was long out of side. Alone, she cried into her hands and thought of the battered Hume she saved almost half a year ago.
Somewhere flying over flashes of land, the Hume sat silent, wondering what the nation he was going to would awake within him.

II
The First Lesson.

Windurst felt so familiar as the man stepped off the airship. The tropic scent of palm trees and ocean wind setting his concerns at ease. Though his stomach was still somewhere in his throat, he felt better with his feet planted on the ground. Poor guys that have to clean the ship. I shouldn't have eaten while flying. Note to self: Airsickness is a bitch.
Looking at the map Lio had given him he found the Residential district and followed the path the map showed. Showing the ring, the Cardian that stood as guard opened the doors and showed him to his home: Room 364.
The room was empty void the moogle floating dead center, and a fountain built into the far wall.
This is familiar...though nothings here. Glancing to the right wall where sunlight poured in, he closed his eyes. A giant bed once sat here...why do I know this?
"Kupo, welcome to your Mog House, Master Azeria! My name is Fremog, I'll be your personal assistant for anything you may need!"
"Well met, Fremog. Tell me, who had this room prior to me?"
"Uhm, I don't know off the top of my head. I know the moogle that was stationed here before me though. He's my cousin's husband. I can ask him when I see him this evening if you wish me to. Kupo."
"Please."
Sitting with his back against a the door, Azeria closed his eyes once again and tried to bring up memories locked to him. Half an hour passed and nothing came of it. Unhooking his weapon, Azeria sat it on the far corner and with it his three hundred gil he possessed. "Fremog, what can you tell me about adventurers?"
"Kupo?" She looked at Azeria strangely and tilted her head. "You mean you don't know about what you are, Master?"
"What I am?"
"Yes, kupo! That ring you wear is the symbol of a Windurstian adventurer, you must at least know you job."
Shaking his head, Azeria walked to the fountain and splashed water on his face to wake himself up some. "I have this dagger, so what should I pursue as a job?"
"Thieves normally use that specific weapon. Though Warriors, Black Mages, and Red Mages have access to a series of them."
"Thieves...alright, how do I become one?"
Fremog dug into the small pack on her back and brought out an chart. "This is how I keep track of your progress in specific jobs. These blank spots are for 'advanced' jobs, where you have to take a test or series of tests to prove you belong as one of them. Simply touch one of the titled jobs, and Poof, you're whatever you touched."
Extending his index finger, Azeria brushed the tip against 'Thief' and felt himself become slightly weakened, but more energetic, as if he wanted to run around town at full sprint.
"You are now a Thief, kupo!"
Azeria picked up his gil then his dagger, the blonde Hume held it in his hand and took a few clumsy swings. It felt like it belonged in his hands, however clumsy the attack was. "Fremog, thank you for the advice. I'm going to take to the outdoors and take a few swings with this."
"Understood. Uhm, Master?" she spoke softly, pausing Azeria's movement towards the door.
"Yeah?"
"It isn't a mandatory thing, but most adventurers leave their Moogle a weekly payment of whatever they can afford so we can do some personal shopping of our own at the Mog only stores in each town."
Catching the hint, Azeria reached into his pocket and set a hundred gil into the Moogle's tiny hands. "Until I start pulling in money that's all I can spare. Will that be enough, Fremog?"
"Of course. Thank you Master Azeria!" She hugged him and followed him out the door.
Azeria headed north from the Port Windurst residential district. Once in Windurst Woods his eyes scanned the area, to the west, the Bastokan Consulate building blocked out the sun. To the north, a fountain gushed water back into the waterways while fishers plunged their fishing rods into the cool clear liquid in hopes of a nibble. Crystal blue eyes didn't shine with the twinkle most people have when they first come to Windurst, instead they were calm, collected, and if one looked deep enough, a realization that his mind knew where everything was, without knowing it himself. Up the small hill and towards the Leviathan's Gate he strode without looking at the merchants hawking their wares. Cardians wheeled past him in a flurry of colors, sirens blazing as two carried a stretcher with a murdered Galka on it.
The tall Hume began to walk out of the gate before something in his mind urged him to talk to the guard that gave the special benefit called Signet.
"Whataru do you wantaru?" The high pitched voice of the Tarutaru demanded, turning to face the blonde man.
"Signet is all I require."
The Taru sighed loudly and waved his hand, the signet crystal materializing on Azeria's left ear as an earring. "Begone, Hume."
Bitting back a remark, Azeria walked through the shadows granted by the archway, and into the sunlight of outside.

East Sarutabaruta, a dry, windy plain that housed several ancient towers the further you explored. Sunlight beamed down on the new adventurers who chased after the new born rabbits, mandragoras, and bumble bees. Against the right wall a Mithra stood making gestures with her hands, summoning creatures of different elements to boost her speed and efficiency. Azeria nodded to her and walked into the open where a lone bee hovered collecting nectar from a nearby flower. The bee sensed something was amiss to late, the dagger plunged into it's stomach, dark red blood seeping from the wound as it turned and with the last of it's strength dug it's stinger in Azeria's flesh. The stinger made the wound infected and a weak poison began to stream through Azeria's system. Grabbing a nearby white mage, he proceeded to ask for a spell to cure it.
Hours later, Azeria returned to his mog house exhausted. He slumped into his room, curled up on the floor using his bag as a pillow and slept.

A group of eight people stood on a floating island, a breeze blowing in the wind that carried the scent of death. Beaten, battered, and broken in so many ways the small party huddled together and spoke in silent voices only to become silent when a voice silky smooth and ethereal merged with the wind.

...Shine bright, o' star of hope...

Waking up, Azeria ate, bathed, dressed, and went back into the area known as East Sarutabaruta. Instead of heading North, the Hume turned south towards the cliff overlooking the Bastore Sea. His eyes went glossy, and a memory triggered in his head.

The snow fell softly during the winter. On a cashmere blanket, two male Humes sat cuddled together sharing a thermos of San d'Orian Hot Chocolate. The taller of the two wore a purple hat. the other wore a black beret. Dressed in the exact same shirts of red and fluffy white lining they laughed and carried on.
"Ferdinand. This was a corny and beautiful idea." The purple hatted Hume spoke softly.
The one called Ferdinand didn't respond, he simply leaned over and kissed the taller one on his cheek and grabbed his hand, watching the sunset .

The scene shimmered and changed into the same cliff, but fireworks now exploded in the air like missiles hitting their mark during a war. A large group laughed and roasted a Dhalmel over several fires. Beer and strong liquor passed hands. Some had to set down fish bowls to take the alcohol, while others simply passed it on and continued to set off little firecrackers for amusement. A bearded Hume with a scythe as large as the Galka he sat next to motioned while he spoke, congratulated the group on a job well done with the Turtle, whatever that was. He spoke of the future of the 'Hotuken Knights' and how bright it was, how nothing would stop the group from becoming number one and beating IRON out of their tightly coveted spot.
The group varied in sizes, races, and nationalities. Those who weren't wearing the festive Yukatas wore their nation's shirt. Green, Blue, Red, all meshed together with the summer shirts.

Lowering himself to the spot his memory said he sat at, he looked out in the sky and tried to bring up other memories, clues he could use to find out who he was.
...It all began with a stone...
A voice spoke in his ear, causing the hair on the back of Azeria's neck to prick up and his hand instantly tried to reach in his pack for something that wasn't there. Realizing no one was there, he looked in his bag. It's too small...he thought.
The voice was familiar he realized, something warned him to hide in his mog house for eternity, and not do anything to heed it. The voice, he realized, meant fate had found a use for him.
Little did he know, fate had it's greedy little hands on him his entire life...present and forgotten.

****

Sitting on the planks that made the patio of the cooking guild, a brunette Mithra sat crossed legged while roasting meat and various vegetables on a skewer. Her jade green eyes narrowed into tiny slits as the kabob caught fire and burned into a blackened crisp. How one with such skill in the cooking arts as she had could bungle a simple recipe angered her. She had experience, she had talent. Hell, she'd done this recipe for the longest time to feed her friends while she was on the battle field. For a profit of course, she'd be damned if she merely gave the food away because some poor sod forgot to bring their lunch. Her tail swished back forth, how she hopped someone would come and make a smart assed comment. She needed to pound on someone, and there was nothing planned for today, all her current tabs on elusive monsters panned out for tommorow or the following day.
The young Mithra packed her belongings and the couple dozen kabobs she made into her bag, then strode down the walk way. Windurst was a busy town, and a big one. Add that with the mischievous nature of the Tarutaru that founded the Federation, you got the recipe for a nation full of pranksters and theft reports. Her lips twitched into a grin, the thefts didn't last long, in a day or two the item was found on the owner's front porch, with a little personalized card having a laugh at their expense.

She wound her way around to the residential area and took the back alleys to Windurst Woods where she proceeded to go place her newly made food items on sale while they were hot and fresh. Twenty three thousand gil isn't to steep. She smiled a toothy grin again as she penciled in the minimum buy price on the sheet and gave it to the Mithra manning the window.
"Have a wonderrrrful day!" The clerk shouted out to her.
"Dispatch calling Medical Personnel, Sheepbane, Doctor Kerai." the linkshell in her ear carried the voice of the Galka covering the medical shell.
"Kerai here. Whatchya need, and it better be good, I've not been on roster in four months."
"Victim at 892 Mandragora Lane."
"Tag Phyree, I'm off duty."
"But--"
"No 'But' and if you tag me again, I'm going to come down there and shove that tree trunk you call a tail up your ass. Got it?"
"Dispatch out..."
Altana almighty why can't people check the lists before they call me. She fumed. Once, not a long time ago, the Mithran White Mage would rush over to heal a wounded victim of a crime when in town. Now she preferred to avoid it. She hadn't practiced her skills in months and months. She absently brushed her hands against the pistol at her hip which sat next to a deck of cards. Never again after what happened. I will never take my staves up...ever again. Not after that. She reminded herself. She was no longer going to be responsible for people's lives in that way. To many friends had died when they were out in the world. To many that had been dead to long for her to ressurect. That day she had been knocked out herself cost her four friends, for months she beat herself up for only being able to save one, and having to pick the Elvaan Thief that was closest to the brink. I should have had time to get them all..Fighting back the burning in her eyes she stopped at the fountain and let the sounds wash over her in the center of commerce.
The wind slowly breezed past her, the feel of it against her skin and fur calming.
...It all began with a stone...
The silk voice wrapped around her and caused her to hold herself. "I wont let you wrap me up in your games again, Altana." she growled. "Your schemes cost me to much, you vindictive bitch, to much!" Heads from fishermen turned to look at her as if she were a lunatic, then promptly swung back towards their line as her narrowed eyes burned into theirs.
Stones,Zilarts, Emptiness, Promathia. Wyrmkings. All because of your fucking bitch ass. I swear, if I ever get the chance to stand near you, I'm putting a fucking bullet in your goddamn head. Her mental oath eased back her pain a little. But not enough before she realized that the voice on the wind meant she had no choice. The stone from which the legend began would require her services, yet again for the fourth time in her life.
Inside her mog house, she slammed the door and paced around the room before falling flat on her bed to stare at the constellation globe she had set up there. Hours flew by, and getting showered, dressed, and groomed the Mithra decided it was time to get back to what she had planned today.

The night made Windurst all the more beautiful. Magical flames erupted in a series of colors that made walking through it as if you were wandering through a rainbow.
Kerai leaned against one of the posts and waited for her group to gather. Most were coming from other nations and had to catch airships to the central hub of civilization then catch another to the town. It would be quite a while.
Her thoughts faltered when a Hume with choppy blonde hair walked past her as if he hadn't a care in the world. The slight jump in his step caused her heart to sink and her throat to go dry. He wore blue and white racial clothing of his kind but had made minor adjustments to the jeans with a dagger. He used to do that... she thought. ...It was so tacky, but he made it work. She thought to run after him and just touch him, to see if it was him. No, he's dead...He took to much a beating and was gone for to long... The burning in her eyes was back and she splashed some water from the fountain on her face to clear her head.
****

Azeria wandered through town, doing odd jobs for people. Lift this, drag that, give this to that person in that place. It was tedious, but he had made about three grand in the past six hours. In his mind, he was rich, and had money to waste. He headed to the Auction House, his mind on procuring a bed in which to sleep in and avoid another nap on his hard floor. The listing of the house had three in stock, but wouldn't tell you what the minimal bid was, just what the past ten had gone for twenty six hundred. Goddess almighty, I'm gonna die if weapons run this much. He bid on the bed at two thousand, and to his luck managed to get it. It took every last ounce of personal restraint he had, but he succeeded in not doing a happy dance in public. He gave his address and room number to the Taru serving as window clerk and was told it would be delivered in thirty minutes to an hour. Enough time to grab a bite he thought, headed towards the Elvaan he saw earlier making steak on a portable grill. His hopes were dashed as the Elvaan was not where he had been. Hopes dashed, he wandered to Windurst Waters where the map showed Timbre Timber's near the cooking guild. Smells of all kinds waifed out of the wooden saloon doors, yet for some reason he had to hold back a giggle at a strange thought of smelling saruta oranges and pond water. Walking through the doors caused Azeria to gawk, ten at night and it was dead save a drunken Tarutaru and a passed out Galka. The hostess smiled wildly and walked him to a booth and after handing him the menu walked away to man her post where her cosmetics magazine waited.
Azeria ate what he considered lavishly on fried fish and wild rice cooked in herbs and bucket loads of butter. After consuming twice his weight in starches the Hume wandered back to his Mog house where he felt he would sleep for the next decade.a