The old merchant's voice rings in, the answers far from satisfaction. He could say glory, wealth, or power -- but the truth of it is that all Obsidian sought after was the freedom of his own choice. To carve out his own path for once. It didn't matter what he said, the truth was in his heart as he looked at a pair of young elezen twins that he did not yet know would become some of his most precious comrades. More family than family he'd ever had.
The journey to protect the Realm would be perilous. Easier with friends, even if often Obsidian was forced to fight on his own due to the power of the Echo, his Blessing of Light keeping him from becoming tempered. Thus did he face each Primal with all of his might when no other could; the scorching flames of Ifrit, piercing winds of Garuda, the very earth under his feet betrayed through the power of Titan, and the brine of the ocean commanded by Leviathin. Nothing would prepare Obsidian to be forced to carry the cadavers of his fellow Scions to be buried after the Garlean attack upon the Waking Sands, but neither would he stop pressing on.
No, not even facing off against Gaius himself, the Ultima Weapon, or Lahabrea would stop him. Not Ramuh's test, not Shiva's vision, or even the Bloody Banquet for all of its weight would press onto him.
Do not despair! You are not without allies.
The Dragonsong War would have been all the more difficult without the warmth of Haurchefant's companionship, a candlelight in the frigid reception of Ishgard. Enough warmth to make his heart stir, but remember to hold back. There was, after all, war to be considered as well as attempting to clear the names of the Scions as well as Raubahn. He would wait, surely, until the end of the war to reveal the truth. Yet first, he would travel with Alphinaud, Ysayle, and Estinien in an attempt to persuade the dragons into peace instead of continuing bloodshed. Hresvelgr's pain and lament would prevent him from agreement, too steeped in his bitterness to think of raising a claw to his brood brother.
Nonetheless, truths would be revealed unto them, particularly after Obsidian succeeds with Estinien to slay Nidhogg. Truths that the Holy See would not permit to be told, despite Aymeric's efforts.
Oh, do not look at me so.
Obsidian would promise to crush Zephirin's heart in his grasp in the name of his broken one. He would not rest, not stop until he would have his own revenge. A tale as old as any, echoing from the source of the Dragonsong War itself. Nothing would stop him, and the pain would remain. Oh, of course there would be some joy in reuniting with Y'shtola and the others, but the loss of both Haurchefant and Ysayle harden him considerably. Woe betide the man who stands opposed to the Weapon of Light, for death will be his reward. Death for him and his kin and all that he holds dear. Woe betide the man who stands with the Weapon of Light, for death will be his reward. Death for him and his kin and all that he holds dear.
It is no less true for Minfilia, who chooses to go with the strangers of another star, the Warriors of Darkness. Something so raw from the hyur warrior would remain in Obsidian's soul, the anguish.
We did everything right! And still...!
Still, war does not relinquish, even at its end. For though there is the conclusion of the Dragonsong War, there is another to contend with through a storm of blood. For Ala Mhigo, for Doma. The strange and alien cruelty that is Zenos yae Galvus. The all too familiar spite and hatred that Yotsuyu carries in her heart. The steely determination of Fordola.
And he sees far too much of himself in Tsukuyomi. In Yotsuyu.
What's the matter? The witch of Doma will soon be dead.
Yet it is not a thing to be celebrated. It is bittersweet at best, the wish to undo a past already done and unable to do anything but move forward. To march on unwavering. Whatever else could he do?
Even in the face of his closest companions collapsing one by one before his very eyes, a voice calling them away. It infuriates him what little he can do, and the last to fall is Alisaie, who he had promised to not abandon. Still, she is gone, and once again he cannot undo what has been done, until his conversation with the strange hooded man.
To another star he would go, a land forced into everlasting Light for the past century. It is stagnant, full of beings known as Sin Eaters. The Crystal Exarch seems sincere in his desire to aid Norvrandt in its recovery. So instead of being a Warrior of Light, he takes to becoming the Warrior of Darkness in order to bring back the sunless sea. Who better than a Dark Knight, he thinks to himself. The Blessing of Light and his natural inclination to using Darkness should serve him well.
And he is not alone. No, it isn't just Fray who keeps to his side, but now there is also Ardbert.
For a time, all of it holds. The night sky returns for many a region, a sense of normalcy in the face of what once felt impossible to fight. For a time, even Emet-Selch seems almost hopeful of something that Obsidian does not comprehend. Even if it ends in misery and disappointment as ever, and Obsidian's soul barely holding to the seams and an old friend stolen away. The truth of the Ascians and their goal is revealed, and they can all agree that if the situation was reversed, would they do any different? Surely not. What is it like to miss your home for thousands upon thousands of lifetimes, fighting to try to bring it all back?
Yet, to protect what is dear to them, conflict is inevitable despite attempts to do otherwise. Emet-Selch cannot be persuaded to stop, no more than Obsidian can lay down his blade. With Ardbert's aid, they hold the light long enough to unleash it upon the Ascian.
Remember us. Remember that we once lived.
And for all that memory seems to fail Elidibus, he cannot forget or forgive Obsidian's transgressions. In the battles to protect his friends and the very star, it also means he has slain many who were dear to the Emissary. Once again, an Ascian cannot be convinced to stand down. Once again, Obsidian must bring him to his end, trapped within a Crystal Tower.
For upon thy life's reel wind too many threads. Of fate. Power. Weal, enmeshed with woe. Admist this tangled knot, thou shalt know no rest.
The truth of the Final Days brims on the horizon through machinations of the unhinged Fandaniel and Zenos' blind desire for another impactful duel. There is a fight to bring respite for Garlemald, yet it will not stop Zenos' lust for battle, even if it means wrenching the Warrior of Light from his own body into a dead man's and taking the viera's body for his own, a crawling violation that cannot be given time to mend.
Eventually, Obsidian has no choice but to slay Zodiark, inevitably inviting the Song to Creation's End. What is the source of the End, and why? Answers that can only be found in the past, with old and new friends alike.
The inevitability of death holds on, and through despair all can become a Blasphemy, never reborn through the Lifestream, a true death. Yet, all along, it has ever been Hydaelyn's desire and plan to ensure their star and its people live on instead of fleeing into the dark expanse. To face despair itself and do battle with it, even chancing the possibility of his beloved comrades perishing for his sake.
Let's finish this.
A possibility he takes away, the moment it happens ever again. Ever still, he fights on, refusing despair's hold in the face of the Endsinger. Life is painful, life is beautiful anyway.
What indeed? Trust, love, security. It intermingles with family for Obsidian who has never felt it with his own kin. The people he's met across the star and beyond, even when it should be impossible. Rarely does he hold onto hate even when it is easy to do so. Even a voidsent can learn love and comradery.
The last path he takes is to aid young Wuk Lamat to take the throne, which she inevitably shares with her brother. It infuriates Obsidian how coldly the eldest brother treats them. Why can't he see he already has what almost everyone craves? Foolish, utterly foolish. Quickly to unforgivable for how he treats his own flesh and blood.
Eventually, the question becomes: can one defy death?
Death is not the end.
But all things die. All things must die for new life to be reborn. It is a question Obsidian has battled with himself before, and he would not sacrifice new life for the old. Death is inevitable, but that does not make it meaningless.
No, death is not the end. For it can be a new beginning. It simply shouldn't be a continuation. A difficult truth that he's had to accept time and again.
Never a time to dwell, only a time to keep walking, footfalls echoing after.
RAVUS
The old merchant's voice rings in, the answers far from satisfaction. He could say glory, wealth, or power -- but the truth of it is that all Obsidian sought after was the freedom of his own choice. To carve out his own path for once. It didn't matter what he said, the truth was in his heart as he looked at a pair of young elezen twins that he did not yet know would become some of his most precious comrades. More family than family he'd ever had.
The journey to protect the Realm would be perilous. Easier with friends, even if often Obsidian was forced to fight on his own due to the power of the Echo, his Blessing of Light keeping him from becoming tempered. Thus did he face each Primal with all of his might when no other could; the scorching flames of Ifrit, piercing winds of Garuda, the very earth under his feet betrayed through the power of Titan, and the brine of the ocean commanded by Leviathin. Nothing would prepare Obsidian to be forced to carry the cadavers of his fellow Scions to be buried after the Garlean attack upon the Waking Sands, but neither would he stop pressing on.
No, not even facing off against Gaius himself, the Ultima Weapon, or Lahabrea would stop him. Not Ramuh's test, not Shiva's vision, or even the Bloody Banquet for all of its weight would press onto him.
Do not despair! You are not without allies.
The Dragonsong War would have been all the more difficult without the warmth of Haurchefant's companionship, a candlelight in the frigid reception of Ishgard. Enough warmth to make his heart stir, but remember to hold back. There was, after all, war to be considered as well as attempting to clear the names of the Scions as well as Raubahn. He would wait, surely, until the end of the war to reveal the truth. Yet first, he would travel with Alphinaud, Ysayle, and Estinien in an attempt to persuade the dragons into peace instead of continuing bloodshed. Hresvelgr's pain and lament would prevent him from agreement, too steeped in his bitterness to think of raising a claw to his brood brother.
Nonetheless, truths would be revealed unto them, particularly after Obsidian succeeds with Estinien to slay Nidhogg. Truths that the Holy See would not permit to be told, despite Aymeric's efforts.
Oh, do not look at me so.
Obsidian would promise to crush Zephirin's heart in his grasp in the name of his broken one. He would not rest, not stop until he would have his own revenge. A tale as old as any, echoing from the source of the Dragonsong War itself. Nothing would stop him, and the pain would remain. Oh, of course there would be some joy in reuniting with Y'shtola and the others, but the loss of both Haurchefant and Ysayle harden him considerably. Woe betide the man who stands opposed to the Weapon of Light, for death will be his reward. Death for him and his kin and all that he holds dear. Woe betide the man who stands with the Weapon of Light, for death will be his reward. Death for him and his kin and all that he holds dear.
It is no less true for Minfilia, who chooses to go with the strangers of another star, the Warriors of Darkness. Something so raw from the hyur warrior would remain in Obsidian's soul, the anguish.
We did everything right! And still...!
Still, war does not relinquish, even at its end. For though there is the conclusion of the Dragonsong War, there is another to contend with through a storm of blood. For Ala Mhigo, for Doma. The strange and alien cruelty that is Zenos yae Galvus. The all too familiar spite and hatred that Yotsuyu carries in her heart. The steely determination of Fordola.
And he sees far too much of himself in Tsukuyomi. In Yotsuyu.
What's the matter? The witch of Doma will soon be dead.
Yet it is not a thing to be celebrated. It is bittersweet at best, the wish to undo a past already done and unable to do anything but move forward. To march on unwavering. Whatever else could he do?
Even in the face of his closest companions collapsing one by one before his very eyes, a voice calling them away. It infuriates him what little he can do, and the last to fall is Alisaie, who he had promised to not abandon. Still, she is gone, and once again he cannot undo what has been done, until his conversation with the strange hooded man.
To another star he would go, a land forced into everlasting Light for the past century. It is stagnant, full of beings known as Sin Eaters. The Crystal Exarch seems sincere in his desire to aid Norvrandt in its recovery. So instead of being a Warrior of Light, he takes to becoming the Warrior of Darkness in order to bring back the sunless sea. Who better than a Dark Knight, he thinks to himself. The Blessing of Light and his natural inclination to using Darkness should serve him well.
And he is not alone. No, it isn't just Fray who keeps to his side, but now there is also Ardbert.
For a time, all of it holds. The night sky returns for many a region, a sense of normalcy in the face of what once felt impossible to fight. For a time, even Emet-Selch seems almost hopeful of something that Obsidian does not comprehend. Even if it ends in misery and disappointment as ever, and Obsidian's soul barely holding to the seams and an old friend stolen away. The truth of the Ascians and their goal is revealed, and they can all agree that if the situation was reversed, would they do any different? Surely not. What is it like to miss your home for thousands upon thousands of lifetimes, fighting to try to bring it all back?
Yet, to protect what is dear to them, conflict is inevitable despite attempts to do otherwise. Emet-Selch cannot be persuaded to stop, no more than Obsidian can lay down his blade. With Ardbert's aid, they hold the light long enough to unleash it upon the Ascian.
Remember us. Remember that we once lived.
And for all that memory seems to fail Elidibus, he cannot forget or forgive Obsidian's transgressions. In the battles to protect his friends and the very star, it also means he has slain many who were dear to the Emissary. Once again, an Ascian cannot be convinced to stand down. Once again, Obsidian must bring him to his end, trapped within a Crystal Tower.
For upon thy life's reel wind too many threads. Of fate. Power. Weal, enmeshed with woe. Admist this tangled knot, thou shalt know no rest.
The truth of the Final Days brims on the horizon through machinations of the unhinged Fandaniel and Zenos' blind desire for another impactful duel. There is a fight to bring respite for Garlemald, yet it will not stop Zenos' lust for battle, even if it means wrenching the Warrior of Light from his own body into a dead man's and taking the viera's body for his own, a crawling violation that cannot be given time to mend.
Eventually, Obsidian has no choice but to slay Zodiark, inevitably inviting the Song to Creation's End. What is the source of the End, and why? Answers that can only be found in the past, with old and new friends alike.
The inevitability of death holds on, and through despair all can become a Blasphemy, never reborn through the Lifestream, a true death. Yet, all along, it has ever been Hydaelyn's desire and plan to ensure their star and its people live on instead of fleeing into the dark expanse. To face despair itself and do battle with it, even chancing the possibility of his beloved comrades perishing for his sake.
Let's finish this.
A possibility he takes away, the moment it happens ever again. Ever still, he fights on, refusing despair's hold in the face of the Endsinger. Life is painful, life is beautiful anyway.
What indeed? Trust, love, security. It intermingles with family for Obsidian who has never felt it with his own kin. The people he's met across the star and beyond, even when it should be impossible. Rarely does he hold onto hate even when it is easy to do so. Even a voidsent can learn love and comradery.
The last path he takes is to aid young Wuk Lamat to take the throne, which she inevitably shares with her brother. It infuriates Obsidian how coldly the eldest brother treats them. Why can't he see he already has what almost everyone craves? Foolish, utterly foolish. Quickly to unforgivable for how he treats his own flesh and blood.
Eventually, the question becomes: can one defy death?
Death is not the end.
But all things die. All things must die for new life to be reborn. It is a question Obsidian has battled with himself before, and he would not sacrifice new life for the old. Death is inevitable, but that does not make it meaningless.
No, death is not the end. For it can be a new beginning. It simply shouldn't be a continuation. A difficult truth that he's had to accept time and again.
Never a time to dwell, only a time to keep walking, footfalls echoing after.