1st Astral Moon, 5th Sun - Seventh Umbral Era

Who am I? I am… Miso’no. 

Miso'no Tsuki. 

At least I think that's my name, anyways...

When I awoke years after the Calamity, it was the first thing I hungered for and having pulled myself from the wreckage of the false moon... well. I put the two things together. 

A stranger in a strange land that is not so strange to me after all; I find myself navigating it easily, almost as if by instinct. I do vaguely remember a family and feeling loved by them. I wondered if they knew what had become of me… were they proud? Worried? Did I have any friends? Yes... one friend, I know for certain, but I lost him... I think. Where did I live again… ?

…If I think too hard about these things, my head starts to hurt. So I do not dwell on them for long.

But… certain things do make me wonder.

I occasionally catch people looking at me as if they know me. A small part of me, a tiny urgent voice, whispers the urge to run to them, shake them, ask them, “Do you? Do you know me?” But that makes my head feel funny, so I’ve never done it… and at a second glance, the look seems to fade from their eyes. A mistake, a trick of the light perhaps. Many lost people during the Calamity, so it's no wonder. But it is awfully curious…

Aside from that, a lot of the time, people seem drawn to me for all manners of aid. There is this inherent trust from strangers that I do not comprehend, but never question. It simply doesn’t occur to me, in the moment, to do so. Once after aiding a farmer with an injured chocobo, he told me, “By the Twelve, you have a knack for healing!” and so I felt… drawn to the healing arts. 

I often wonder: should it worry me more that I simply wander without any personal goals? Guided by whatever forces are driving me at the time? Ixali invaders. Pest control. Retrieving lost conjurers. Each task pulling me in a new direction... to a new place, to a new duty, a new problem to solve, a new wound to heal. And I feel… perfectly content to do so. Because with each experience I feel as if a small part of me shaped by it; I am a formless ball of clay being touched, molded, imprinted… changed forever by my circumstances.

Each time I look in the mirror, it’s like I see myself… just a little more.

Oh! And by the way… you can call me Miso!

Perhaps I can call you... friend.

~~ Miso'no Tsuki

3rd Astral Moon, 23rd Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again, my friend!

It is so strange, I have come a long way since healing chocobos in the Eastern Shroud. I am surrounded by friends who look at me like they’ve known me their whole lives, who put their lives on the line for me every day. Dare I say I care for them deeply also? Inexplicably?

And yet there is this distance between me and them, I feel as if I barely know them and yet… I walked into the belly of the Magitek beast without a second thought and faced a horrific creation that devoured three Eikons as if they were a midday snack. I faced the Ultima weapon and… lived. I do not attribute that victory wholly to my own talents. I cannot in good conscience do so. The voice… the light… the crystal…. Hydaelyn… truly it was her who saved me. Saved everyone. The pull I feel, the trust, the faith I have in the Light is so powerful and sometimes I wonder why it does not scare me more?

And then… every time I wonder about that... wonder about all these gods, and why they all seem to claim destroying the others will result in the peace the world deserves… the worries seem to fall through my hands like sand. 

Surely no entity that actively works against the destruction so many others have caused… could be bad? Surely I am over-thinking. It must simply my memory being fuzzy that confuses me at times.

Or mayhap it is simply the fear that I am not worthy to be the “Champion” everyone lauds me to be.

And so here I stand -- surrounded by friends and compatriots -- as we usher in a new era after yet another calamity was surely avoided, feeling so… alone. It feels deeply like something is missing beyond my memories… could it be you? 

I know you, my friend, are gone. I do not know how, or where. I do not know if it is death, or something else that took you from me. But its always you I talk to when I feel like this, though I do not know if you can hear me. It gives me comfort. When I am feeling alone, it is you I reach for. When my head feels fuzzy, it is you I think of. When I feel like no one truly knows me, I know in my heart you did… once upon a time. 

I look around and I see my friends and I know its not their fault they don’t know me. I hardly know me, even now. But as before, the more steps I take forward, the more I feel bits and pieces of myself are revealed to me. The more I feel like I am truly to beginning to know myself. The more I feel I might truly find the truth of what happened... someday. 

And maybe in finding myself… I will find you, my friend.

Until next time,

~~ Miso

3rd Astral Moon, 31st Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello my friend…

I confess I am in a rather saddened state. 

Though things have been progressing rather smoothly with the Scions (we have moved to a new location in Mohr Dona, which is quite close to the crash site where I first awoke and so I feel strangely at home here) I was sent on somewhat of a side mission. Full glad was I to have a break from the tedious tasks from Alphinaud as he excitedly presses forth with his recruitment plans for the Crystal Braves.

As it happens there was an expedition with regards to the Crystal Tower, which was unearthed… not unlike myself… during the Calamity of Dalamud. 

While I do not know if our fates are linked in any way, all knowledge is worth having so I agreed to help.

As these things usually go, a variety of tasks was required to first enter the tower. In the pursuit of pure aetheryte crystals and the means to refine them… I met someone.

At first I feared another Ascian was at play, for a mysterious voice mocked me from the shadows, having stolen that which I sought and bid me to race them to the next one before they absconded with yet another prize.

Not one to shrink from a challenge, and feeling a measure of stubbornness rise within me, I felt… motivated to “win” this little race. If it was an Ascian I couldn’t very well let them interrupt our research. 

And win I did, much to the praise of the voice that alluded me. 

Whoever they were they left a gift of the very sand I had been pursuing the entire time! Surely an Ascian would never allow me such a victory? I feared perhaps they wanted us to explore the tower, given the technologies had caused so much destruction in the wrong hands in the past. But, before I could inquire further, they fled and said we would meet again… soon.

When I returned to the expedition with the required items, all began to assemble for the next step. One of which was a new face to me… but not a new voice.

G’raha Tia.

I confess, I found myself more than a little annoyed to be led on a such a chase from someone whom was allegedly my ally. Rammbroes said he was… eccentric and bid me to forgive him, so I put my feelings aside for the sake of the expedition.

We spent a considerable amount of time training so as to face the challenges within the tower together… he has an infuriating ability to inspire a competitive streak in me I fear. I held back at first and let him win once and would not hear the end of it… so I did not let him best me a second time.

You might find it odd that, given our tenuous meeting… I grew fond of G’raha Tia rather quickly, surprising even myself. A historian, and former student of Baldesion, he had surpassing knowledge of the past, and despite a flair for the dramatic, he was possessed of a kind and brave heart. His enthusiasm for learning was infectious… and in the time we spent together we discovered we both had much more personal reasons for wanting to uncover the secrets of the tower. The truth of that lay in his curiously bicoloured eyes; one red and one blue.

In time I learned the red eye pained him; both physically and with memories that were not his own.

The redness of the eye is said to be a trait unique to Allagan royalty, passed down from his father. Much like my missing memories, he has been pursuing the truth of why the eye runs in his family. G’raha’s answers were assuredly tied to the tower.

Many, many strange happenings awaited us on this quest. Clones, royal bloodlines, an array of strange guardians and beasts, beauty and horror beyond my wildest imaginings. The Emperor yet lived, slumbering within the tower… now awake and seeking to rule once more.

We learned that Dalamud was created to siphon the sun’s power into the tower to collect massive amounts of energy towards a dark purpose; G’raha Tia and I locked eyes at this discovery, our two histories intersecting at a crucial juncture. 

Despite defeating Xande, the worst befell our comrades (and Nero), who were stolen away into a tear in the very fabric of our reality; a rift that led to a dark realm called the Void. 

That night G’raha and I discussed much… we bonded over feeling as if there were things we must remember. Me, with my missing memories and waking within the wreckage of the false moon, and he, with the distant memories of his ancestors, the ancient Allagans… memories bestowed upon him by his eye. Never had I had someone who understood the nature of what I struggled with, not being able to remember anything; though his situation was vastly different… he did not shy away from my pain as many did. Instead, he sought to understand… no one had ever done that for me before.

Though… that is partially my fault. I realized in that moment that I had never let anyone get close enough to before.

Twas a closeness I have not experienced before. As we held hands beneath the cool light of the Crystal Tower, G’raha favoured me with a kiss - perhaps my first kiss? At least that I can recall. I realized, perhaps too late, that he may have done so knowing what he would soon have to do. That he may not get another chance, should one of us be lost to the Void. 

G’raha asked me the next day to let him join me in the Rift.

Knowing my own hunger for answers, I could not very well deny him… though a great fear welled within me. A fear I might lose him and all that had grown between us in our short time together. 

We fought a great many voidsent throughout that dark and dangerous place. A chill runs through me even now to think on it… how and why such a world exists. Perhaps to balance the light of our own? We might never know. 

The darkness then tried to strike down G’raha – but he was unharmed!

This, it seems, confirmed that he is indeed of Royal Allagan blood. The same dark covenant that threatened the world now was sealed with Royal blood, and thus offered him the same protections as the clones Unei and Doga. They decided to stay in order to dissolved the covenant and seal away the Void, but this would leave the Crystal Tower without a means to control it… a dangerous prospect. And so they bestowed their blood upon G’raha Tia, awakening his ancient heritage.

My eyes fair swelled with tears as the deed was done and he blinked at me with not one… but two sanguine eyes of Allag.

Though we spoke after escaping the rift (unfortunately, with Nero in tow…) G’raha could barely meet my eyes with his own now. I wondered if he felt self-conscious of them somehow, knowing what his ancestors did. He did say that he remembered their true wish… one that the Tower might be a beacon of hope instead of destruction. But he abruptly ended our conversation before I could ask more…

I knew something was wrong… ah! If only I could have guessed at what he was planning!

But it was too late.

By the time we all realized and rushed to the doors of the Tower… there stood G’raha Tia, barring our path and speaking lofty words of destiny. He seemed… so different, almost a stranger. But I suspect he would not have been able to do what he now planned to do otherwise.

“No one but you can accomplish these things,” he said as he bade me to create a world full of hope, saying that my destiny lay outside the Tower, not within it as his was. He meant to seal himself within the Tower, to sleep as Xande had until such a time that Eorzea had advanced enough to use the Tower for its true purpose. 

Our eyes met again, for the last time.

I yearned to run to him, to beg him to stay, to beg him to let me stay. A nigh imperceptible shake of his head held me in place. He held my gaze, shining with unshed tears, with them saying all the things that he could not say aloud. I hoped that he’d seen the same in mine own.

The doors shut behind him as I felt the shutters fall around my own heart. I did not shed a tear, not then… but later where no one could see. To finally open up to another soul only to have them taken from me so soon… I am not sure I could bear that again. 

I could only hope the others were right… that we would have the means to open the tower again in my lifetime…

But it feels quite hopeless at the moment.

Many a time I have returned to gaze upon the Tower, speaking to G’raha Tia as I do to you, hoping he can hear me… speaking the words on the winds of Rathefrost, hoping one day he will know how I feel. Perhaps he will hear it on the breeze, when I am gone

While I hope I do see him again… I will never forget him. I will never forget the gift he gave me. I hope one day I will be able to return it.

But ah… it hurts my friend. I have not lost someone in this manner since losing you. 

Pray it is the last time.

~~ Miso

4th Astral Moon, 12th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again, my friend.

I’m sorry… its been a while since I’ve been able to write.

When I last caught my breath, I was thinking of how far I’d come since healing chocobos on some of my first adventures… but feeling like I could not celebrate. It felt as though something were not quite right...

I thought it was because you were missing. Maybe that is still true, but since then… ah. I should not have doubted my intuition. Things have gone so horribly wrong.

Not so long ago, I felt alone amongst friends, having only just starting to feel like I was beginning to know them, to be known by them, and to know myself. And then -- on a misguided attempt to unite Eorzea -- we had been seeking to thwart treachery... unwittingly falling deeper into it every step of the way. And now the Scions are in shambles; our reputation has gone from champions to conspirators -- with our numbers dead, disappeared or dwindling…

And as if matters could not be worse… an ancient, sleeping dragon stole the blessing of light from me!

You would laugh, I think. Call me naive. I smile to think on it, because you would be right of course... And I imagine even if you had been here to say so, it would have happened all the same. 

At the risk of sounding self-deprecating, it would seem Alphinaud’s hubris was contagious. 

I writing you now… cold, but not entirely alone; we (Alphinaud, Tataru and I) have been smuggled to safety by a warm friend in a frigid land. 

Without the blessing I have felt oddly… empty. Though in a way it's given me leave to look at myself as I truly am; not the Warrior of Light but just... Miso. So despite it all, here I am, slowly learning what it means to be... me. 

This place, Ishgard, is as frozen and unforgiving as its people… who stare after me with mistrustful gazes. But given all we have been through, I confess it's as if I do not see them; I cannot shake from my memory the images of my friends, one by one, standing against those who betrayed us so that I might escape. Am I not the hero of Eorzea? Should I not have been the one to stand in front of them? At the very least with them? My chest aches to think on it. I do not want their sacrifices to be in vain… but I feel anger and shame at the thought that I ran at their behest instead of standing by their side.

After losing G'raha as I did... it stings all the more. But at least I know he is alive.

I know guilt will not bring them back. Shame will not help them. Anger though… anger I can use.

So I find myself looking for answers. I met a strange man who said I could find answers among the stars (and I am not ashamed to admit that I am desperate, my friend). And so, if there are answers to be found in the stars, I will find them. I will find my friends, if they yet live.

Hear… feel… think…

Hydaelyn has been conspicuously absent since my encounter with the ancient Dravanian... did losing the blessing sever me from her entirely? Or does she simply have nothing to say?

Well and good, if the earth below me is silent, I will look to the Heavens. 

~~ Miso 

5th Astral Moon, 3rd Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Ah… my friend…

It’s as if I’ve lost you all over again. 

But this time... I remember…  This time... I see it every time I close my eyes. A warm hearted friend… a spear of light… his breast my shield. He is gone and with his dying breath he bid me... to smile.

I try… because he would want me to… but it yet feels hollow.

When I was alone, all my friends suspected missing or dead… he was there. He took us in and gave us safety and nourishment and protection without a second thought. He brought me hot chocolate every single night just to make me smile despite being considered criminals, despite being looked at like heretics in his beloved homeland, despite everything that had befallen us. Rarely thinking of himself, he so often talked of how he could best serve the realm. Haurchefant wanted most of all to serve at my side, like the older brother I never (?) had. 

And just like that, when he saw my life in peril, he acted just the same. 

That was who he was… putting others' lives before his own always.

I do not think in that moment he thought he was saving the Warrior of Light. I do not think he put my life’s value above his own because of the title I bear or the deeds I have done. He simply saw a friend in danger and… he acted. Not even as he lay dying did he think of himself... he thought only to see me smile one more time. The soft, silly fool... he did not want my pain to be the last thing he saw.

But ah… it hurts so much...

His light flickered and went out and the world feels so much darker for it. 

I feel so much darker for it.

Not long afterwards, I met a stranger in dark armor… and dark thoughts swam in my head. It was not as it is with Hydaelyn. This was mine own inner darkness. And there was power in it… power in it perhaps to protect my dear friends, as he had done for me. For you see, my friend, I grow so weary of my friends throwing themselves into danger so that I, the Warrior of Light, may live… and suffering for it. 

And so I followed this darkness to see where it led… the idea of vengeance like a balm on my soul. 

I am torn because I do not think he would want this for me; though he was a fearsome warrior himself, there was a gentleness to him. There is strength in that too, I think… but right now I simply feel like it is not enough. The world is cruel and ever seeks to crush all that is soft and tender and good.

They say that the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow. My light was once bright, but feels dimmer. I wonder if maybe it's not that I have become darker… but simply exploring an aspect of myself that has always existed. And for the first time I am not shying away from it.

I am embracing it. Thriving in it.

Though it feels like the light of my blessing is slowly illuminating once more… I still do not understand why or how it works. It's not as it was before, when I felt my power grow from defeating Primals, through strange crystals. But my foes are not all Primals now, so what is it that empowers them truly? Thinking on it fills me with an uneasy feeling… 

But I cannot dwell on all of that. I will rely on this new inner strength and see where it leads. This time I will be the one rushing headlong into danger, to be a sword and shield for my friends and allies. It will be my breast and my life and my heart on the line. I will do all I can to ensure the world does not lose more precious people such as dear, sweet Haurchefant. I will take blow after blow and smile... because it reminds me of him. 

However, I fear that the Dragonsong has not yet sung its last note…

~~ Miso

5th Astral Moon, 10th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again my friend,

I have done it. 

I have struck down the fiends who took sweet Haurchefant from this world. By mine own hand they fell. I have to admit, it felt good. I put the full force of my rage and pain behind every strike, and I have no doubt the arch bishop felt… and feared… the power in it.

But I was not alone; Hydaelyn’s blessing was restored before the final battle. Sealed away as it had been by the ancient Migardsormr, it slowly returned to me as I learned of the plight of his people (and the more I learned… the more questions I had). So fortunately for me, I had the Blessing of Light was behind me as well. Despite the darkness I felt in my heart, the Light still favours me.

But something has been bothering me: those that fell by my hand were not unlike gods in their own right… or so we thought.

So… now I wonder... how it is I stood against a thousand years of accumulated faith and prayer? The nigh-endless power of a dragon eye?

I will say... I do not feel guilt, nor shame, for taking vengeance. It felt right. It felt just. Ishgard has a chance at real peace with the Dravanians now; not a fabricated war orchestrated by a corrupt church and the dark machinations of the Ascians. Though… there is the still the not-small concern of Nidhogg, that is not what worries me in this case.

Something else about that day haunts me.

It is the way that the archbishop -- having been stripped of his godhood and layed low -- stared at me with such terror. Such horror. The way his words rang in my ears:

“What… are… you?”

I have stood against Primals. Weapons designed to destroy or enslave Primals. Hordes of Dragons. Young dragons, ancient dragons. And now would-be gods. I have stood against them all and lived. Yes, I have the Echo… yes, I have the Blessing of Light… but surely I am not the only one who possesses both of these? Surely this does not make me… a monster? And yet… and yet… I felt a coldness grip my heart at those words because I have most assuredly asked myself that on more than one occasion.

What am I?

Even now I feel my head swim when I try to think on it. It feels somehow too immense to contain. Maybe it is completely beyond my understanding; I do not know if I will ever truly know the answer. I fear the more answers I find, the more questions I have. 

I have so, so many questions.

In the aftermath of it all, I feel hollow. I am not so foolish as to imagine that my pain would dissipate, as the archbishop did when he fell… I am not sure what I expected. I knew this would not bring my dead friend back. There was a grim sense of satisfaction for a while, yes but… now what?

It matters not because I know that I will not be allowed to rest for long. I know soon I will be pulled in another direction, spirited away on whatever flow fate has in store for me. I don’t know that I always believed in fate but I always seem to be precisely where I am supposed to be, don't I?

Oh… and Y’shtola is back! Although I am beyond glad, something seems somewhat amiss…. and she has not said what. I have a strange suspicion that... well… I will be patient and keep those thoughts to myself. She will say something when the time is right for her, I am sure of it.

I can only hope we find more of our friends soon… 

PS - You will be pleased to know that I will be seeing Fray again soon. I think it is time to face this darkness within myself once more. I am not always sure I like where it is leading me now that I have had my vengeance.

Miss you always,

~~ Miso

5th Astral Moon, 17th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again, old friend,

Much has happened since last I wrote. We have recovered Thancred now as well… though he also seems to have a mysterious affliction of the eye… and a strange seriousness about him that he did not have before. 

We are also aware of Minfilia’s location but… not yet how to restore her. I can only hope that helping Hydaelyn will help her as well…

I don’t even know where to begin with all of it. We have met with those who refer to themselves as the “Warriors of Darkness”. I can only suspect they are related to what Hydaelyn spoke of; the the darkness that wants to return, to reunite with her? Seven times she said she has failed to stop them… seven times, seven Umbral eras… seven calamities. I can only assume with each calamity the darkness grows stronger and this is what she fears.

But I do not yet know what these dark warriors want… or why they would be killing Primals. Given what we have seen, haven’t the Ascians been encouraging the return of the Primals in pursuit of their beloved Zodiark's return? Has this not been what's weakening Hydaelyn all the more?

And then my dark knight training… well. 

Remember how I said I would be meeting with Fray again? Something had started to seem so… familiar about them. At some point something shifted within my mind, a curious feeling where I felt like I knew them. But unlike my missing memories, my mind did not rebel at the very thought. 

So the more time we spent training, the more I attempted to attune to Fray… the more I suspicious I became… and in the end I was right. 

I did not want to accept it at first… but Fray… was me. The real Fray was still dead and gone. What spoke to me, trained me, attuned me to the darkness was… my own darkness. And although the things she said scared me… they were also true, in a way. But they were not the whole truth.

I think it is dangerous to ignore the darkness inside, to deny it; to fear it is to make it stronger. I hope, in time, me and my darkness can work together and come to an understanding.

What else… ah yesh! The Dragonsong war is over at last. Although there was some dissonance within the church, and then the unrest among some of the citizens who balked at the truth, ultimately it was better for that to be publicly aired rather than left to fester. So strangely it all worked out in the end.

But… there was still the… rather concerning problem of Estinian-as-Nidhogg…

Would that there had been some other way to calm the vengeful soul of the ancient wyrm… but it was fair to say at that point he had become no different than a Primal, a shade of the former Nidhogg. We are lucky that Hræsvelgr agreed to assist us, giving mortalkind one last chance at redemption in his eyes. However when the shade of the dragon fell, Estinian remained, half-mad with Nidhogg's influence. It was sheer strength of will stayed his own hand and begged us for death.

We did not oblige him. Instead we thought... if only we could liberate him from Nidhogg's cursed eyes...

The pain, the rage… the anguish. Ah! Just touching the eyes of the wyrm caused such torment to run through us. I could feel the full weight of what Nidhogg felt for a thousand years. I thought I could hear Alphinaud screaming somewhere beyond the sound of my own cries… I wasn't sure how long either of us would last...

And then… and then…

A warm hand from a warm friend…

I am not ashamed to admit the tears came unbidden. It was as if the presence of my fallen friend filled me with strength and determination, shielding me from all that pain and hatred with kindness, understanding… love. 

And with that… the eyes came free and Estinian with them.

We wasted no time; we cast the cursed eyes into the abyss.

In retrospect, I do not know whether it was the wisest choice. Although I do not know how one might destroy two dragon eyes. Perhaps we should have tried. But I can only hope Aymeric knew what he was about…

But with that… a tenuous peace has begun. I cannot help but feel hopeful.

I think on that moment, even now. I have missed Haurchefant terribly. The pain of that loss driving me to seek solace in the darkness in my own way, driving me to vengeance as it did Nidhogg and… I do not want that path for me. 

And… I feel… lighter for it.

It feels now as though he is not truly gone. In some way, he is still with me, even if I cannot see or feel the comfort of his arms around me (truly he gave the best hugs). I close my eyes and I can feel his hand steadying mine. I can feel his warmth giving me solace. I feel more at peace than I have since arriving in Ishgard. 

But its not just that…

I think of you as well, and perhaps you are also not so far from me as I’d assumed? Perhaps you are there, too, steadying my steps, guiding my hand. Helping me up time and time again. Making a wry joke to make me laugh during my brooding moments.

I hope it is true. Because I fear I will have need of your strength in the days to come…

Until next time, my dear friend,

~~ Miso

6th Astral Moon, 14th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Ah, my friend…

It feels as if I write to you a lot… but also not enough.

The past few months I have seen so much change… in myself, in my life. I find myself thinking back to when I first woke up on my way to Gridania, having just heard the voice of Hydaelyn for the first time, knowing almost nothing about myself and having only just a vague sense of you to hold onto. As if some mysterious force was guiding my steps, I wandered… with no concept of the whirlwind that would take me.

And since then… I have stared into the dark mirror of my potential future. A world where the light is so bright it threatens to burn away all of existence. Despite being a warrior of light, heralded a champion of the realm, running to and fro to right this wrong and that… I am stuck wondering where does it all end? 

If the light obliterating the darkness would also mean certain destruction of this world, OUR world… how can I go on still blindly fighting every shadow? 

Ever since Ul’dah I have been lost… and then found… I feel as though I have lost and found friends… over and over and over again. Some of those losses… were permanent ones. Good people who gave their lives for the salvation of this world. I said I would never run again, I did not falter, I resolved to stand and fight… and still! STILL!

…It was no use…

Truly Louisoix’s best student… gave everything of himself so that we may live.

And now I wonder… how many worlds have perished so this one may live?

The Warriors of Darkness were full ready to sacrifice our world to save their own. If I was in the same position, would I do the same? In some ways I did. Afterall, saving our world meant dooming theirs… is that really so different? I should think not.

I do not know if I could look at another world and decide it was more important than my own. Decide to doom them. Choose to end them. Could I do it? Would I?

I can only hope we never know that level of desperation.

I can only hope we haven’t doomed worlds in search of our own salvation, however unwitting. 

The calamity… the many calamities. Each one dooming a world. Was it the calamity that caused their end? Or was it saving our world from complete and utter destruction that sealed their fate? So many things are unclear. So many things that have not left my mind for many days and nights. Because I have a deep, uneasy feeling that I am, much like in Ul’ah… unwittingly stepping into some sort of cosmic trap from which I cannot escape.

And yet… speaking of hope… I am starting to believe there is reason to have some these days. I have not had reason to hope since losing all my friends in Ul’ah. Since the Vault. Since… 

… well, its been a while since I had dared to hope. 

A smile better suits a hero... right?

All I can hope for right now... is that I get to decide what kind of hero I shall be.

Would that I had your wisdom, friend. Until next time…

~~ Miso

6th Astral Moon, 21st Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Greetings my friend, 

I hope this finds you well… wherever you are...

A lot of things have been troubling my mind as of late. An old friend became a new one… her mask finally off to reveal her true self, rather than living in the shadow of the one she held so dear. It is truly a sight to behold… her convictions, her passion for her cause. I confess it’s been infectious; we took to the Ala Migan resistance for many reasons but for me I felt the fire burning in her eyes and the warmth of it attracted me as a moth to the flame once more. 

I would see her dream realized. But… again I wonder at the cost.

Trust does not come easily, least of all to those living under oppressive regimes. Even less so after Griffin shattered their numbers and their faith in one fell swoop with his bedamned zealousness. He was all too happy to sacrifice Ala Migan lives to swipe at the Garleans, with Primal claws no longer under his or anyone’s control. The thought of it all… causes bile to raise in my throat. 

How does one justify knowingly spending the lives of those you thought to free from the grip of tyranny… as if they were coin at the merchants?

So we set about befriending the Ala Migan’s… broken as they were. We threw ourselves into their struggles. Myself I did so gladly, for it seemed the best way to truly understand their plight. I do not think trust could be built otherwise; it is a thing that must be earned.

And so we did earn it… only to watch it burn.

Though nothing burned as bright as the fire within me as I saw Y’shtola lying broken on the ground, at the feet of one who’s name is etched behind mine eyes now… burned there by a ferocity I hadn’t felt since Haurchefant. 

Zenos.

His sword shattered even Y’shtola’s strongest barrier. A feat she hadn’t thought possible. I thought my heart would break with it. I thought I’d lost another… but no I could not bear it. Without a single thought I struck… again and again. But even with all my fury, even with the blessing of light… he did not fall. I was struck down… and yet he did not kill me? This… I do not understand.

But I did see, as I lay there… shameful in my defeat… the sword which broke ‘Tola’s barrier… had broken itself.

This… seemed to be something he did not expect. Nor did I.

And this is what I am pondering now. Did he truly spare me or… did he perhaps realize he could not defeat me, no matter how it seemed as if he had won? Did he perhaps think of Gaius and the similarity of his folly?

Regardless… the resistance burned. And I could not stop it. I could not stop him. But I will, my friend. I will.

I feel myself torn between rage for those who have caused such terrifying harm to innocent people… and a crushing amount of compassion for those still living under horrific conditions. I long to do more… perhaps I need to seek out a new path, to learn how to harness both the power of my convictions to defeat those who harm others… and the empathy I feel for all mankind.

I wish only to leave this world better than how I’ve found it and for the people who live here.

… well, that and to see you again…

Until next time, my friend…

~~ Miso

7th Astral Moon, 5th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again friend,

I had a dream… I think you were there. I think I had found you, but it was all so unclear. Your face was a blur, as if the artist of my dreams smeared any important details with a flick of the brush. Perhaps we spoke… but I do not remember of what. 

I awoke with such an ache of frustration and familiarity. Why can’t I remember? 

So much has happened! I have travelled across the Indigo deep to Othard. The home of Doma, Kugane… and so many other wondrous places. It felt odd… in a good way… as if I’d been to many of these places before perhaps.

I have written before that my memory is sometimes… fuzzy. Particularly anything before the Calamity. Every time I try to grasp onto memories before then, memories of you, memories of home, memories of my parents… it all slips through my fingers like the sands of Ul’dah. 

It is almost as if I have a… reverse echo with mine own memories. Hah! What a strange trick of fate. I can remember the memories of others as if I was there, but not my own. 

As far as I know I sprang forth after the Calamity, fully formed… an empty vessel for some purpose not yet known to me.

But I do have this sense of some kind of… personal history beforehand, however vague it may be.

And sometimes… I get glimpses… or at least this sense of… yes! I know this! And this was so as I travelled through the various regions of Othard. Particularly two such places, which struck me deep within my soul like a deep, resounding bell, echoing to the deepest parts of my being. The sounds are reverberating within me like how a bat on the wing sees the trees… while it is still vague and difficult to grasp, it is almost as if something is forming deep within the recesses of myself and starting to take shape… the sounds of it bouncing back to me with that same ache of familiarity.

Sui-no-Sato was one of such places. Though they shunned me upon arrival as they do all outsiders, this small bubble under the sea nigh staggered me with its beauty and… sense of home. I learned quickly that even those born there… if they should leave they are not welcome to return. Such is true for Yugiri… whom I have long felt kinship with, though I had always assumed it was simply due to her being Au’Ra as I am. Her parents told me that she left to seek a way to fight to protect those back home… and they miss her dearly.

Did one of my parents hail from Sui-no-Sato? And if so… why did they leave…?

Now many of those I’ve met on my travels have assumed I am Raen, and so I have assumed of myself as long as I can remember (which is not long I fear…) However now… now I am not so sure this is so simple.

The Azim Steppe was another such place… and here… my spirit soared. I cannot even begin to describe it, my friend... It felt truly like a homecoming!

From here hail the many tribes of the Xaela… there is a sense of camraderie and kinship even in the way they war with one another. Ah… I admit I took to it all as a fish to water. Despite being Raen, or so I’d always thought, I wandered the land as if I had always known it. A new thought, a new feeling, struck me… perhaps I was both. One parent Raen… one Xaela…

And then I heard some of the local mythos… the Dawn Father… Azim and the Dusk Mother… Nhaama… kept apart for all time. It felt as if I was hearing the story of where I’d come from. A peaceful Raen of the sun and a fierce, dark Xaela warrior of the dusk… departing their beloved homes and running to distant lands… to be together. 

‘Twould explain what some have called my... somewhat unusual colouring…

But… this could all be wishful thinking. A dreamer’s fantasy of a lost little Au’ra whom for some reason has become the Warrior of Light and Champion of the Realm… a pitiful attempt to understand who I am and where I’ve come from and why… always why… except that one time... it was what...

“WHAT are you?”

I confess… I truly do not know.

Mayhap one day I will. Until next time my friend…

~~ Miso

     (PS - I had a dream I was once again at Vault with Haurchefant, but this time ‘twas I who fell so that he might live. Perhaps in some other world that is true…)

7th Astral Moon, 12th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Ah, my friend… 

Last I wrote I confess I was in a state of angst. No doubt you were rolling your eyes. I am sorry to say that the mood has persisted.

Revenge has never been my strong suit, at least not until Thordan. And then when I thought Y’shtola fell to Zenos… the same dark well bubbled up within me, fit to burst. It is an ugly thing. A powerful, ugly thing. And my feelings around the matter are not the least of the parallels between those two harrowing circumstances.

You see when Thordan fell, he thought himself a god amongst men. A thousand years of fears and prayer, along with the burning hatred of the eye of Nidhogg, fused into a being of pure vengence, one that craved absolute power. And yet he fell to me and with fear in his eyes wondered what are you. Then “Griffin” sought to replicate this, with the lives and fear of his countrymen… becoming the perfect Primal vessel for Zenos to control. How… I still do not know. Perhaps something to do with those strange experiments involving imbuing aether to the Garlaens? 

I suppose that matters not.

When first I encountered Zenos–Y’shtola’s blood not yet dry on his blade–I was not strong enough. I was not “worthy” prey in his eyes. And yet he saw something there enough to suggest that one day… I would be. And so I suspect his machinations had little to do with the victory of the Empire and more to do with battering me into the perfect opponent, the perfect hunt, the perfect enemy. Sharpening me as a whet stone does a blade.

And then... as with Thordan, who was a monster in his own right,  in our final encounter… Zenos expressed a most disturbing thought to me:

That we were the same.

The way he spoke to me… it was madness. Zenos spoke with such affection. He spoke as if we were dear friends. It was as if there was love between us. That I lived for battle and death and killing as much as he. These big moments, where I stand almost impossibly against foe after foe, seeing them felled before me… that is why I do what I do. Not to do the right thing, not to save lives, not to protect those I care for… but because he and I are the same. We both crave this violence for the sheer joy of it.

Without it we are nothing but mewling creatures like the rest of humanity.

In the end, before he fell, he called me his only friend. And his greatest enemy. I suspect, with him, those things are one in the same.

It felt, most disturbingly, not like an end at all… but the beginning of something. 

Despite our victory, despite Zenos and Shinryu having fallen in one fell swoop, despite Ala Mhigo finally being free, despite all of these things… Zenos’ words hang over me like a dark shadow even still. A lingering sense of dread.

I am not suited to idleness, as you know, but should I go chasing the next adventure, will Zenos have been right? Is it not justice and truth that I chase, but violence? Am I perpetuating the very cycle I seek to stop?

Time and time again it seems I have no choice but to fight. But is that always so?

Perhaps I am not as comfortable with my “darkness” as I once believed. Mayhap I have some soul searching to do…

As always, wish you were here, my friend…

~~ Miso

8th Astral Moon, 9th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again, friend…

There is a lot to say, but I will begin with a small complaint; my head has hurt every morning since visiting Othard and the Azim Steppe… I’ve been trying to grab hold of the vague inklings of familiarity I had in those places, particularly the Steppe… places that felt like home. Like family. I should probably stop trying to remember… it’s probably causing these wretched headaches. I should know better by now. 

Unfortunately, nostalgia has been haunting me a lot as of late.

I have not much returned to Fortemps manor since the happenings in Ishgard. Since… well… you know.

And yet I found myself drawn back there and during my musings… my soul crystal broke. The dark one. I was left with but half of a whole.

A strange boy appeared in the same instance; vaguely familiar.. He said he had a strange ability to bring back loved ones who had passed to those who missed them. He wanted to ease their pain, help them find peace. With each shade summoned I could reclaim a little bit of my crystal’s aether. Thus I agreed.

I confess… a small part of me hoped… feared… but also hoped… that maybe this boy would summon you to me? But… it would seem for the magic to work I would need my memories in the first place. So alas.

With each loved one summoned I realized they were all… familiar. People who were all adjacent somehow to my adventures. Some of whom I felt… responsible for their misery. Some who suffered because of my actions. Some whom I’d even personally killed.

And I realised… this child was another part of me; the other side of the coin to my shadow-self. The light side? A side that thought I was a murderer, a monster… like Thordan… like Zenos…

In the end I realized… these are things I worry about myself. These are doubts I have deep in my heart. I always wonder if there was another way than how I ended it. That some truly did not feel as if they had a choice. Some were manipulated into their paths. And as much as I say to myself that they would have made the same choice again and again… so I had no choice but to… but to…

… Was there truly no other choice, or is this the pretty lie I tell myself?

Regardless, it seems the parts of myself have reached an accord for now. And as such, I feel a newfound resolve to pursue the path of the Sage. I must find a way to balance these aspects of myself… too much darkness and I will let vengeance blind me… but too much light and I might hesitate to do what is needed to save innocent lives or let guilt eat me alive…

And there is too much to be done.

The empire attempted to broker “peace”. Sending an ambassador, Asahi… brother to Yotsuyu of all people! To discuss terms. I did not like the smell of this from the beginning and made my feelings known. However… we had to try, for the prize of having Doman citizens returned to their homes was too great to deny, trap or no.

And so I had to ferry this cheshire cat of a man around Doma as he smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and pretended to find it fascinating and beautiful. But I did not buy it…

It was not long before he showed his true colours... A zealot of Zenos’... driven mad perhaps that I had slain the man he admired. Loved even. By the Twelve, I pitied him deeply as Zenos’ last words gnawed at my memories… professing what sounded about as much like love as that monster was capable of… to me. I wondered if Asahi knew… is that why he hated me so? Not only did I slay the object of his affection but… I had also rejected the affection he himself desired so deeply?

But how could he have known…

Clever as a fox… he tricked us in the end, a plan concocted by Zenos himself. But in the end karmatic justice would find Asahi in the form of his sister’s own hand.

I do not think Yotsuyu truly deserved her lot in life. For all the horrific things she inflicted on others… in the end I do not think she felt herself capable of redemption or deserving of happiness. But I do think she found a measure of peace. At least I hope so.

Ah… but there is a disturbing twist, my friend. Through Asahi’s memories I saw not only why he revered Zenos, but that Zenos… someway, somehow… had not died that day in that field of flowers in the Royal Menagerie… he was nursing grievous wounds… his voice husky from what we all thought was a mortal wound… we all saw him slit his throat… this was no pretender.

But… how? How?!

We are off shortly to tell Lyse. Alphinaud has gone into Empire territory and I am terrified. Angry. 

Next time… next time I will make sure its my hand and not his that deals the final blow…

Apologies to the gentle, light side that wishes to see the best in everyone. There is no grace in me now. 

Not for him.

Pray that I am able to stop him a second time, my friend. Especially with these dreadful headaches…

Until next time,

~~ Miso

10th Astral Moon, 10th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Well my friend…

I am alone. Not completely. Not wholly. But one by one my friends have been taken from me. Again.

If Zenos’ return by way of Ascian were not bad enough, the Scions have been bombarded by some kind of psychic attack that has torn soul from body. They live, but they are also… gone. I do not know if these world-shattering headaches are attempts to syphon my soul as well, or merely an unpleasant side effect of these communication attempts from a strange being urging me to “throw wide the gates"...

…whatever that means…

But there is a strange familiarity there, from the one that bids me return to the Crystal Tower. I’ll admit my heart leapt at the idea… for there is another friend yet locked inside whom I mean to free. The idea I may finally be able to act on that desire after what feels like so long fills me with even more determination.

However... I fear that my friends are being held in as ransom so that I will do what the hooded being asks. Not an Ascian I think… but I will say I deeply tire of beings cloaked in shadow and hoods! 

But I cannot very well ignore the message either with the lives of the Scions at stake…

My head feels fit to burst with it all! The Emperor bid the leaders of Eorzea to join him, willingly, to defy the Ascians and return to one master “true” race. I was not sure whether to violently expel my supper or launch him into the sun; to think he truly believes the solution to conflict is to simply make everyone the same? 

He must truly be mad to think the Ascians do not know he chafes at their control and means to use them to his own ends. The Holy See made the same mistake…

Ugh! I think I feel another headache coming on… it feels like two red-hot knives are trying to burst from my temples. I will throw wide the sheets and rest; if I am to stop these accursed headaches and find the means to save my friends, I fear I will have to make for the Crystal Tower as soon as I am able.

As always, wish you were here friend…

~~ Miso 

10th Astral Moon, 16th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

My friend, I–

Something has happened to me. I have…  changed.

These accursed headaches have plagued me since some inkling of my memories returned to me in the Azim Steppe. I had thought that they were signalling the impending psychic attacks on the Scions. Perhaps whomever is responsible had been trying, and failing, for a time, to communicate with us.

But no… this is…. something else….

I awoke from unrestful sleep, the pain in my skull practically reverberating and then… stopped.

Relieved, I ran my hands over my face and through my hair, shaking away sleep and…

No…  it couldn’t possibly…

Panicked I ran to a mirror to see and… I could not believe my eyes…

… what… is happening to me…?

~~ Miso (?)

10th Astral Moon, 25th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Forgive me my friend, for it has been long since I have written…

Much has happened; I fear I say that too much! I do not even know if my words will reach you (if they ever have), but with what I am learning in this new, strange place… it does feel very possible.

I have gone to a new world. Or rather… a reflection of our world? Similar in so many ways but also so, so very different in others.

Whereas the light fights against an onslaught of darkness in our world, here the light has ravaged the world; a veritable tsunami of brilliance that seeps the very aether from living things. Hungry as any Primal, but a billionfold worse. The sky burns with this light day and night; people turn to monsters from its sickness, and those monsters terrorize and consume all those in their path. 

And this fate was set upon them by… Warriors of Light, not unlike myself. They fought the dark until there was nothing left to fight… and won… not knowing they had doomed their world.

I had met them, once, for they tried to doom our world to save theirs.

So… it seems my fears I have confessed to you in past letters were not so unfounded after all. The calamities that have destroyed other, similar worlds to this one caused parallel calamities on our world, as those fragments returned to the whole. The umbral calamities. 

It has given me much to think about regarding the calamity which took you from me and stole even my memories of your existence and my past. I cannot even remember your face. Is there another you… out there somewhere? On another world, so much like our own?

The irony that I must now be the warrior of darkness or some such is not lost on me. 

In some good news, I have found our friends… some of them at least. They have been transported here, though in a different fashion to myself… the bad news of that being they are trapped here, perhaps forever… I do wonder if this was, in some ways, intentional so that I would be more amenable to comply with saving this world. To save them.

(Had they known me… they should have known I would have done it anyway…)

I fear there is so much to this world I do not know. I fear there are things being kept from me. I fear for my friends. I fear for the people here and what they must endure.

And something else is eating at me…

I cannot shake this feeling that… I am being watched…

But I will do what I always do and keep going. I do not see any alternative.

I pray you can still hear me…

~~ Miso

11th Astral Moon, 15th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again from the First, my friend…

My life is nothing if not interesting; forgive me for not writing sooner but I’ve been among the fae-folk. They are somewhat like the Sylph, but considerably more mischievous and many of them would have me as a pet, I expect, if I were not careful. But I cannot say it’s been unpleasant, impending calamity and my demise aside.

I think I may be developing somewhat of a dark sense of humour in my time here… a side effect of being the Warrior of Darkness, I suppose…

This world is both strange and familiar by equal measure. Although the impending Calamity reeks of the Ascians, I had not thought there were any… not since the Warriors of Light of this world dispatched the Emissary of Darkness that would bring about the flood and everlasting light that would last a hundred years. I had certainly not assumed there would be any Ascians from our world or that they could travers these realms so easily.

I was wrong.

… well, I was right in a way... in the sense that I was being watched. By an Ascian I had not yet had the displeasure of meeting, but had heard of. The elusive… Emet-Selch. We had heard his name from Shadowhunter, formerly known as the Black Wolf himself. He had seemed rather discomforted by the presence of this particular Ascian. A feeling I now share… having met him.

But he is… different. I'll give him that.

Or at least our interactions have been rather different from other Ascians thus far. He has not attacked us or even dissuaded us from our task. He actively revealed himself as an Ascian to us and did not seem to mince words in the slightest or speak in cryptic riddles. In fact, he believes we may come to a compromise of sorts… despite seeming rather annoyed that we had caused such a massive setback in their plans for the re-joining. Not angry, just… annoyed.

(and a bit dramatic, but… I confess I feel you’d like him for that)

Though every fibre of my being rebels at this… we agreed to him accompanying us. Best to keep ones enemies closer, I think… better to have an Ascian in the light than lurking in the shadows, no? 

I will also note that the Crystal Exarch… did not react to the Ascian presence at all, which… worries me somewhat. But perhaps he is more focused on saving this world. I should hope so…

By the Twelve, my friend, I hope I do not have cause to regret this…

Now we have set off with this Ascian to find Y’shtola (as you can imagine, I am pleased). I suppose if we are about to be horribly betrayed soon, she is one I would like to have back at my side sooner than later. I have a strong feeling we will need her.

You are, as always, close in my thoughts and my heart…

Until next time,

~~ Miso

11th Astral Moon, 29th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

My friend, I write to you today to vent, for which I apologize…

I have spoken to you much of my concerns with my memories, with people who seem to know me but then those familiar looks fade like snowflakes in Costa Del Sol, the way when I try to remember you, or other such things, it makes my head hurt so I avoid doing it, the way so many things seem so familiar but I cannot remember why. Much like this new world of the First, where so much is different and yet… similar.

I have also spoken to you of my concerns for doing what is needful, but not certain if there is another way. Of never questioning enough in the moment or feeling like my choices are truly limited. I have often laid awake wondering, how many of my choices are truly mine, and not Ascian machinations? What if I, much like the Warriors of Light in this world, am simply another cog in the wheel churning slowly towards this “rejoining”?

I feel as fractured and divided as all these worlds that are reflections of my world (our world?)... the Source.

I do not think we were ever supposed to be able to come here. Hence why it was so difficult. Hence why all my friends souls now hang in the balance and may never be able to return. I do not think it was part of the plan and yet….

… here is Emet-Selch. An Ascian. Whom I am inclined to mistrust.

But then he attempts to broker a peace. Attempts to foster a sense of trust. He follows, he watches, he does not intervene (unless to jab his ascerbic wit into our conversations, but much like Y’shtola’s bluntness he is… not often wrong) he simply… likes to watch. Which unsettled me greatly.

And then… he plucked Y’shtola from the lifestream as if she were an apple on the branch. Hale, whole, even clothed.

Even stranger, despite being absolutely infuriating during all of this, he did not ask for anything aside from a simple “thank you”. And though we had some heated words after the fact, I do believe we have come to some sort of tenuous accord. I will not say it’s one born of trust, but one more born of… I think we both have something the other needs.

Emet, I feel, may be able to tell me more about myself and perhaps my place in this world (these worlds?) than anyone has thus far. It is not simply black and white, light and dark, good vs evil.

The Emissary of Darkness dying in this world is what caused the flood of light in the first place, isn’t it? And more than that, he has told us quite candidly of his history… the history of how Zodiark and Hydaelyn came to be… and with it the disturbing thought that Hydaelyn is no different from a Primal… and I may very well be one of her thralls, as he is to Zodiark.

Unlike me, Emet does not appear to have reservations about his freedom of will or choice. It is a concern to me now more than ever; when before it was merely self-doubt, anxiety or speculation… now it feels like a truly real and disturbing possibility.

I do not know if what Emet-Selch has told us is true… but I do believe it is what he believes the truth to be. But how much of that is tainted by being enthralled to his dark god? How much of what I believe is tainted by Hydaelyn? Or… if we are more aware and in control than the average thrall, how much is he holding back to serve his ends? Perhaps he is merely attempting to sow doubt between myself and Hydaelyn and weaken my faith in Her…

Afterall, if all was well after Zodiark was summoned to prevent the first calamity… who summoned Hydaelyn and why? 

These are questions that haunt my waking mind.

Despite my reservations about Emet-Selch, beneath the wit there is… a deep and abiding sadness. 

It is this that stills my hand from acting too rashly against him, as I may have done to Ascians in the past. Is it odd that I feel perhaps we are two sides of the same coin? I feel drawn to him for reasons I do not fully understand. Reasons that I recoil from and reject, reasons that slip away like familiar feelings or memories.

And it is for that reason I… want know more. Need to know more.

I can but hope perhaps some of those answers he may be able to give me will lead me closer to knowing myself again. To knowing you again.

Until next time, my friend…

~~ Miso

(Oh and PS – Oh, I am apparently tainted by absorbing light from the Lightwardens here. Y’shtola told me… though only after I defeated a third one and restored the night to her beloved Slitherbough. The Light is different than my own blessing it seems. We do not know what it means, or what it might be doing to me…it has caused… somewhat of a rift between us. It feels as though she does not truly believe me to be the same person she loves – loved? – anymore. It makes me sad.)

1st Astral Moon, 4th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again, dearest friend…

My time on the first has proven more challenging than anything I have faced so far. And it is not simply the enemies we face, or the horrors of the sineaters, or the impending calamity, or even the wildly exaggerated foretelling of my death.

It is this accursed Ascian who – beyond all reason I can fathom – I find myself relating to and recoiling from in equal measure.

It first began when I found him spying on Shtola and I, or so I thought. I confronted him and in that infuriating way of his he read the situation with her… a little too deeply. He knew she had been keeping things from me, he knew she had been looking at me differently since I had absorbed the aether from the Lightwardens.

Monstrous… that was the word Ryne had used for it. Its been reverberating in my head ever since. I do not know what it means, but it feels as if my very essence is breaking apart, shaking me to my very soul. Friend, I fear I may shatter at any moment.

Before we’d gone to defeat the Lightwarden of Amh Araeng, I went to see Emet-Selch. 

This time, it was I who spied on him while he slept (yes Ascians DO sleep as it turns out). I am not sure what answers I expected. I fear that I revealed too much too him. Some desperate part of me was hoping that he could reveal something about my missing memories, and the fog that surrounds me anytime I feel like I am close to remembering or being remembered. Or why what he was saying at times felt so… familiar. I thought since what he revealed in Qitana Ravel that… 

… Well, honestly I don’t know what I thought. Or what I was thinking. All I know is I got no answers, not from him. At least not then. But I have infinitely more questions.

Since then it has been push then pull with him. One minute he is saying he barely considers me to be truly alive, the next he is telling me he thinks my soul might be something special, resilient. One minute he is barely around, and then suddenly he shows up everywhere, intimately interested in activities he’d once deemed boring. 

The way he looks at me now, as if hoping for… what, I’m not certain. If he truly does not see me as “full person” then why does he keep looking at me so? Why does he keep sharing such feelings with me, as if expecting me to remember? Especially considering I remember less than most…

And now that he knows that I… relate to some of what he’s said… about a world that feels so achingly familiar and yet isn’t… quite right. Friend, I fear what he might see in me, even if it is only the potential for something he wants.

I cannot help but fear that it is the monstrousness of the aether inside me that he sees now. Sees it as Ryne does. As 'Shtola does. I fear whatever that is doing to me, however that might be changing me, is what he wants. Why else would he not be stopping us from defeating the final Lightwarden? Especially since he considers it to be a minor setback at best. That it won’t really save the First from destruction.

Perhaps it won’t save me from destruction either… no matter what Urianger believes.

I feel as shattered as the Source and all its fragments.

Friend, pray lend me your guidance, wherever you are. I truly do not know what I believe anymore, about the First, about Hydaelyn, about Ascians and least of all about myself. But I believe in you, despite my lack of memories. You are my guiding star.

All I can do is what I’ve always done… which is move forward, doing the best I can.

I pray also that… it’s enough.

Until next time (unless my monstrous soul shakes apart…)

~~Miso 

1st Astral Moon, 10th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Dear friend, I am a thrice-damned fool.

~~ Miso 

1st Astral Moon, 15th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

I apologize, my friend… for the abruptness of my last correspondence. 

I wish I could say I was exaggerating when I said I am a thrice-damned fool, but it is plain to me now that it is the truth. One of many truths that I was too blind to see.

Truth be told, I am not entirely sure I am myself anymore. And that’s only the first of three things.

Though everyone is scrambling to find some way to save me, but that I am told that I am all but indistinguishable from a Sineater now. Though I look like me, the everlasting light has returned to all of Novrandt, so I know what they say to be true. Absorbing the light from the final Warden, Vauthry, it was too much. 

Shtola can barely stand to look at me. She labours ten times as hard as any of the Scions for an answer that may reverse what has happened, but I can tell it has changed between us. To her, I am not the one she loved any longer. Whatever monstrousness was clinging to my soul… that must be all she can see now.

And that… is only the beginning of my troubles.

The second is… I… genuinely do not know how to say this. But when it was clear I was losing the battle for my own soul with the light of the Wardens, the Crystal Exarch appeared, seeking to liberate me of the this cursed light, throwing it into the void and… himself along with it. If this was not bad enough… I…

I should have known. The whole time… THE WHOLE TIME…

When the visions in Eorzea summoned me to the foot of the Crystal Tower, I thought surely… surely I would finally see dear G’raha again. But this hooded figure, despite my suspicions, claimed to not know me. And despite always feeling as if he were hiding something immense from me, I did not press for more answers.

Twelve forfend, why did I not try harder… to make him tell me the truth…

Perhaps I did not want to see it. Perhaps I thought… it could not actually be him. An alternative version, like so many things in the First. So damnably familiar. But not my G’raha… surely it couldn’t be…

But he knew… if I knew… I would never had let him… never...

I started to suspect during the heart-to-heart we’d had before I faced Vauthry. The way he’d wished he could accompany me on my adventures… yet knowing he could not… it was so similar to the way that… that he…

And then, when the Light was ravaging my soul… when the force of the aether whipping the air around us suddenly threw back his hood and revealed his face… it was… it was…

It was G’raha! My G’raha!

One of the few who knew what it was to remember memories that were not one’s own. To be burdened by the knowledge of what we couldn’t remember. Though he did not possess the Echo, the Allagan eye… well. We understood one another. When I had felt alone in a crowd, he saw me. And I saw him.

And then he was gone, with the promise we would see each other again.

That thief making off with the hero’s treasure… but this time not aethersand, not the Crystal Tower, not the power of the Warden’s light… but my heart. Which was in the process of shattering to pieces along with my soul.

… only to be stomped on by Emet-fucking-Selch...

This, dear friend, is where the thrice-damned part comes into play. Damned once to become a Sineater, twice to lose G’raha having only just found him, and thrice… that I ever even remotely trusted Emet-Selch.

I will spare you the details of a lengthy monologue where I disappointed him and he resigned me to the madness of becoming a Sineater. He shot G’raha, halting his plans to sacrifice himself and stole him from me. 

Lost and found and lost again.

The only comfort I have is that, somewhere, G’raha yet lives. He must. I will give the Ascian that… his intervention, at the very least, saved G’raha from oblivion, though I am certain that was not his intention. He determined I was of no use, that is all. So I can only hope that G’raha is of use to Emet and he will live until that is proven otherwise.

As I have. And failed.

So, being the fool that I am I have to finally admit that it was always about being “of use” to him. I do believe he thought I could be… whatever it is he saw in me. I wonder if it is as Elidibus said to Minfilia ages ago in the Waking Sands, that if one were to “master” the Echo, they would be of one mind with the Ascians.

And… is that cooperation not what Emet admittedly sought from the first we met?

But all of that would simply be to serve his ends of bringing back his dark god. Though he has individual thoughts, feelings… he claims he had loves, that he has a heart, and aye that he even cries. But he is still an Ascian. And this… this was a devastating reminder that he is a thrall of Zodiark first and foremost… he will do whatever it takes to summon him. As all thralls seek to summon their Primals.

As for me… I do not know what I am now.

I do not know if I feel empty because of all that I have lost since that day… or if is because all that was me has been consumed by the Sineater within. 

All that we have done here in the First to return the night to the people and the places here. All the pain, the sacrifice… losing G’raha. Losing my soul. All of it… all of it was for naught!

My existence now perpetuates the everlasting light. It’s only a matter of time before the Scions realize that ending me is the only solution. 

Until then I suppose I will… maintain appearances? Pretend everything will be all right? They wish for me to speak with people around the Crystarium, give them hope… but how am I supposed to do that when I am now the instrument of their pain and destruction?

Hah… before stealing G’raha, Emet offered me a place to go mad “with dignity” (if there is such a thing)... perhaps I should take him up on that offer. 

At least, mayhap, I will be safe from hurting those I love there.

I’m sorry, friend… I have failed you. I have failed everyone. If I do not write again, I hope that I will be granted leave to see you... Just once more.

Even though I do not deserve it.

~~ Miso

1st Astral Moon, 25th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again friend,

Apologies for the melodrama of my writings as of late; though I have good reasons and things do seem to be quite dire, it does not help anyone – least of all myself – to succumb to hopelessness. 

Truly I am surrounded by the best people… Y’shtola (especially), Thancred, Ryne, Alisaie and Alphi… even Urianger (whom I have forgiven, I simply cannot stay mad at him… sigh). 

Even the Exarch…G’raha… who cared for me more deeply than even I knew. I was allowed access to his hidden chambers in the Crystal Tower (full of books, of course… I have a type, truly) and the Echo allowed me a glimpse into his memories, and telling Urianger his plan. Not only did he have to live through waking only to hear I had perished, but to see the world without me in it… a world he considered unfathomably dark. 

But… it was also a world where people still spoke of me with such hope in their hearts.

He considered me to be his guiding star. 

And he knew that even if I had been able to resist the corrupted aether of the Lightwardens… I’d have lost him. For he would belong to a future that would no longer exist.

It is no wonder he so willingly sacrificed himself. Though I could tell it pained him to know we would lose eachother once again in the process. Well… I realize that now. I did not understand it when I only knew him as the Crystal Exarch…

But my friends rallied me… even Ardbert and Feo Ul… they would stand by me no matter the cost. They would help me hold myself together against the cracks in my soul that threaten to break. 

Despite all their efforts – which I imagine were considerable as I was recovering both physically, but also emotionally and spiritually – they could not find a solution to my… condition. We collectively and uncomfortable decided the only step forward we could take was to seek Emet-Selch…

And so our search took us to the Tempest – which I had originally, incorrectly assumed was some sort of Ascian void between worlds. Deep below the waters of the sea… away from the pervasive Everlasting Light. Here we found remnants of a city… remnants ‘Shtola and I discovered look suspiciously like some of the ancient paintings of Qitana Ravel… paintings that pre-date even the Ronkans. Built from materials that seemed impossible in strength and beauty both.

Things that only alluded to Emet’s recounting of the past to be at least somewhat truthful…

This was only scratching the surface however. As we won the trust of the locals, those who seemed well acquainted with the Ascians, they mentioned a city nearby which had, in recent days, become lit as if inhabited. This is where we hoped to find Emet-Selch.

Friend… I cannot even begin to describe to you what I have seen. 

This city… was colossal. More immense than any city I had yet laid eyes on and also… hauntingly beautiful. We were as bugs, crawling along the paving stones. ‘Shtola could see it all… suggesting it was almost entirely constructed from aether. And there were these beings… tall as giants… but so oddly gentle. They spoke strangely, in a way we somehow all could understand… they float about as ghosts do, apparitions of a time long, long, long since passed…

Amaurot… Emet spoke of it with such reverence. I can see why.

‘Shtola voiced something that I had been feeling for some time. A thought that occurred to me upon even my most early interactions with Emet-Selch. A feeling that has only crystalized as truth as I stand here in this strange place, seeing his past laid bare… that deep, abiding sadness lovingly crafted into every inch of that massive, impossibly huge city.

“If your heart can break, hero, I assure you… so can mine.”

Y’shtola bears no love for the Ascian, so that she can see what I see is comforting. It is not as if I am under some spell, blinded by misguided affection or out of some desperate hope he understood the nature of my missing memories… some part of it was real. 

And he invited me here… by name. I do not yet know why, but I suppose we will find out soon enough.

Oddly enough, I find a strange… peace in being here as well. Perhaps being this deep in the darkness of the ocean’s trenches – away from the light of the world above – it is giving me some reprieve from the corruption that threatens to tear apart my very soul. 

Or… perhaps I have merely accepted my fate.

Hang on G’raha… if I cannot be saved, I will save you. I will save ‘Shtola. I will save everyone… if I can.

Mayhap… even Emet too. 

I do not fear for myself, but I cannot break apart before I see my friends safely home…

Wish me luck, friend… I will need every bit you can spare.

Love,

~~ Miso

2nd Astral Moon, 1st Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Ah… my friend (sometimes I feel as if I should write “friends” at this point…)

‘Tis good to write to you again, for I feared I would not get the chance. I’ll admit, full ready was I to sacrifice my life. Though that is something I do often, this time I saw no coming back from the corruption that was breaking my very soul apart.

And yet here I am… whole. My aether as it once was, or so ‘Shtola tells me.

My heart on the other hand… feels both shattered and yet so full it might burst at the same time. Though I live, though the night has been restored to Novrandt, and though the Calamity that would befell the Source has been averted… it came at a cost that weighs heavily on me.

Emet-Selch is no more.

I feel strongly that Amaurot was meant to show us the final days of what he considers to be when creation was “whole”... even thought we saw how they met a terrible end born of their own fears made manifest… even though he expected me to arrive a monster, rife with the energies he needed to destroy the First and force another rejoining… even though he said such horrible, unforgivable things… 

I take no pleasure in that end. Quite the opposite actually. I believe I did allow myself to care for him, feel for him. I do think there were some moments where we…understood one another. In particular, each other’s pain. 

I do not know if he felt the same but… part of me believes that yes. He did.

We both felt such sadness over the loss of our pasts. His in the most literal sense. A past so old it’s lost to time almost completely, shattered into several pieces. My own loss… is much more ambiguous. If I do not remember my past, then it is as good as lost in much the same way. 

We both only get fragments, fleeting feelings of familiarity, of rememberance… and none were ever good enough. None ever lasted.

In Amaurot… there was a shade… which should have been naught but one of Emet’s memories of a friend made manifest. My “new old friend” who seemed, strangely, to find me familiar. Something stirs deep within me to think on it… because there were other shades who also seemed to know me, though it faded much the same way it always has. Given these were all constructs of Emet’s memories and thoughts, I had to wonder… were these actually Emet’s thoughts and feelings? Hythlodeus had said even just an errant thought could manipulate the constructs…

And in the end… I saw it. I saw that he saw it. He knew me... But how? He is old beyond time itself… how?

I saw him struggle with it, hope it, reject it… it was as if he’d experienced the many stages of grief in but a few moments. Eons made instant. 

I believe, in that moment, he hesitated. I believe… he let me strike him down.

I wish… I wish so dearly it did not have to be so. But I do not believe he ever would have stopped. No matter what he saw, no matter what familiarity lay between us… I would never be the whole being he so desperately longed for. The world would never be the way he missed, never be whole. I truly do not believe that even with the rejoining… that it would be possible to put all the pieces back together. That it would be the world as he knew it.

And so… before he faded into memory with the rest of his kind… he bid me:

“Remember…. Remember us. That we once lived.”

This felt like a precious parting gift… that he would trust *me* with the memory of the people and the places he held so dear he would destroy worlds and peoples to get them back.

Heh… ironic is it not? Entrusting the memory of things long since forgotten… with the person who does not remember even her own past? 

I will treasure the memories he has shown me, the good and the bad. His world was grand, beyond imagination… but not perfect. I will endaevor to learn more about the ancient Ascians and Amaurotines. Surely there must be other fragments hinting at the past… perhaps on other worlds? Maybe even on the Source?

I shall endeavor to find out. Perhaps G’raha will help… he *is* a historian after all. 

And yes… G’raha lives. Thank the twelve.

Wounded though he was, he helped in the fight against Emet’s rage-filled forms. And after… ah… well, I spoke his name aloud and he nigh burst into tears. I smile to think on it. Every time I say his true name now he gets rather flustered as if its strange to his ears. He tells me he’s been the Crystal Exarch for so long that they are one in the same but… when I say his name it reminds him of the young man he once was, and how we endeavored to discover the truth of the Crystal Tower together.

Gods how I missed him!

But he cannot travel to the Source it seems. At least not the way I got there. Neither can any of the Scions, come to think. Whatever G’raha did… it was meant to be undone upon his death. And now… well… we are not entirely sure how everyone will be restored to their bodies back home.

Ah… home. It feels odd to say it now. The First feels like home now too.

But there is work to be done in the Source, I am sure. I wonder if we will ever travel to other worlds? Unfortunately, Emet was not the last of the Ascians… so no one and no world is safe from future calamities.

I have a lot to think about. My aether may be restored, but… I am not the same person who originally traveled to the First, I think.

Well, my friend… I suppose I will write again soon. 

Until the next time,

~~ Miso

5th Astral Moon,16th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello again my friend…

I write to you in a strange and are mood of… hopefulness.

It has been some time since I faced Emet in a hell of his own making. Though it ended the threat of the 8th Umbral Calamity (for now), it raised many more questions and many more problems. Y’shtola and I have been scouring the Ronkan ruins for other signs of the Ancient Ascians. 

And G’raha – the Exarch version that is – and I have had many… personal matters to discuss.

For a mercy, things in the Source seem relatively stable for now – the not-small issue of a resurrected Zenos aside. But all was not well, for the Scion’s bodies were starting to show signs of beginning to separate from their souls. This situation very quickly became dire. And to make matters worse, the last of the unsundered Ascians – Elidibus – appropriated the body of Ardbert to manipulate the masses.

Even though in the process of this mess we managed to clear Ardbert and his friends' names… we were having difficulty guessing at the game the Ascian was playing. So unlike Emet; he acted and spoke in cryptic and condescending riddles. 

And so we sought more from the Ancient Ascians, discovering recordings deep within the Tempest beyond the ruins upon which Emet build his Amaurot. We gleaned that the group that summoned Hydaelyn required one to become her “heart”. Similarly, Elidibus… had been the "heart" of Zodiark. 

Y’shtola stayed behind to see if she could find out more... and as a result was captured by Elidibus.

In an attempt to rescue her, Elidibus subjected me to a gauntlet of monsters wearing the faces of my friends, comrades, loved ones... finally facing the Ascian himself. Though it was only a test of my measure; he vanished again just as Y’shtola freed herself from captivity (gods I love her so). 

However, as we turned to leave I noticed something glimmering… a stone with a constellation engraved upon it. 

And in it, the echoes of a memory.

I continued to find more clusters of these stones; three, then five, then eight… each time with more snippets of words from what seemed to be the Convocation of Fourteen in those final days. 

Thirteen stones in total until… my new old friend appeared.

The Fourteenth seat belonged to the defector, Azem; the one who did not agree with the summoning of Zodiark and left. The one who was tasked with gathering knowledge of the world, who traveled befriending a myriad of peoples. The one who’s stone had been made in secret… by a friend. I felt this resonate in my very soul. Hythlodaeus told this tale to me… and suggested Emet would not mind if I kept the stones. The Fourteenth stone held her power…I was bid to wish upon it with all my heart if I had the need. 

Hythlodaeus, being a construct from Emet-Selch’s mind… could not be sure if giving the crystal to me was their own decision… or that of their creator.

My new old friend also made mentioned that Elidibus had reason… even if he did not remember what that reason was. Which I also felt resonate within me... given my own struggles.

Unfortunately, things escalated once more. As the Scions had been tirelessly working to find a vessel to transport their souls and minds back to their true bodies in the First (I shall note the Exarch was exerting himself a little too much – becoming more crystalline in nature with every passing effort), we had also been dealing with the Ascian threat. Elidibus began awakening new Warriors of Light, using meteor showers… the falling stars triggering some soul-deep memory of the Final Days, which awoke new heroes to Hydaelyn’s gently urgent voice. 

Thing came to a head when Elidibus took control of the Crystal Tower, using it to summon Warriors of Light from across the rift, as the Exarch himself had done to aid me… except now they sought to kill me. Elidibus was using the hope and the desire of the people to do good to further his own ends, to grow his own power. That power was becoming fearsome indeed.

I remembered that Hythlodaeus and Y’shtola had both suggested that he did not even remember *why* he was doing what he was doing anymore. And I… I confess despite everything... I felt… sorry for him.

Who else could relate to such a fate but I? I often wonder why I fight and if I simply cannot remember the reason...

Of course we could not let him succeed regardless of sympathy. The Exarch… G’raha… bid me to allow him to join in the fight in the Crystal Tower. He had a trump card yet to play, but would not say what. I expect he would have wanted to come regardless, but after a tearful exchange I had to go on without him to face the Ascian as he cleared the path for me.

Elidibus, armed with all the hope in Novrandt and wearing the visage of the very first Warrior of Light… proved to be formidable indeed. But we stood strong against him; even he admitted he would be hard pressed to defeat me outright… and so he thought to banish us to the darkness of the rift… to die.

When it seemed all was lost, as I floated in the darkness of the place between worlds I clutched the Crystal of Azem... and wished upon it with all my heart.

I thought perhaps Azem herself would answer the call, but it would seem is in our hearts is a mystery even to our conscious self at times. So when light flooded my senses and I found myself standing once more in before the throne of the Crystal Tower, I looked to see the towering form of an Amaurotine… who sauntered away with a familiar wave that caused my heart to swell, fit to burst...

Emet. 

The friend who made the crystal in secret I wonder?

And so the battle raged on. Elidibus would not give in so easily; he was immortal, he would rise again and again. 

But G’raha would not allow it.

With a flair for dramatic timing himself, the Exarch called down the full power of the Crystal Tower; a perfect conduit for the immense storage of aether… not unlike white auracite. The Tower became a spear of light greater than one could possibly imagine. And so, Elidibus fell. In his place, a small and fragile looking Amaurotine knelt before all the constellation crystals I’d brought back from Emet’s Amaurot. 

He clutched them… the final remnants of his friends… his brothers and sisters… and wept.

And then he was gone.

But Elidibus would not be the only one to drop tears in the Crystal Tower that day.

The effort of drawing upon the full strength of the Tower took its toll on dear G’raha, for he and the Tower were inextricably linked. My heart sank to see he’d become more crystal than man with the effort of felling Elidibus. 

We had averted the 8th Umbral Calamity, defeated the last of the unsundered Ascians, saved everyone… but G’raha’s body was failing. 

I will not say what we spoke of, but I clung to the hope that the vessel which held his memories and his soul would work. That I could bring it, and him, to the Source with the others. That with it... I could wake the other G’raha… my G’raha… in the tower.

With more of a promise than a farewell, he lifted his hood and rose to stand; his body crystallizing in place... never again to move… Not G’raha Tia, but the Crystal Exarch: a symbol of hope that would stand until the end of time, much like the Tower itself.

Even still… it hurt.

Leaving behind the Crystal Exarch, the G’raha from this world,  to go to the Source had always troubled me. Both were the G’raha I loved; but to wake the G’raha in the Source who would know nothing of the journey, the joys, the victories, the defeats, the hope, the loss... everything that we experienced together in the First… in a way it felt like I would be losing him all over again. 

But G’raha’s plan… with the help of Beq Lugg… was a success.

Our friends awoke in the Source, weary from their extended slumber but themselves, hale and whole. Well… I need not tell you, my friend, that I ran to the Crystal Tower without hesitation.

To wake G’raha… my G’raha… both of him. All of him.

Our time since returning to the Source has felt like a dream. A happy one. I look around at all our friends… and Raha, now a Scion himself. It feels surreal. I daresay we’ve been nigh inseparable since our return (with Shtola’s full blessing). I know there is much we must face soon… not least of all the events of Zenos’ disturbing return... but for now we are happy.

And I can keep my promise to G'raha -- and the Exarch -- for that adventure at last.

There is a lot to think about. I am closer to knowing more about who I am… rather who I was. I am perhaps even closer to knowing more about *you*, the one who I have lost in more ways than one.

"The rains have ceased and we have been graced by another beautiful day… but you are not here to see it."

Elidibus’ final words ring in a distant place in my heart. 

I wish you were here to see it, my friend. It truly is a beautiful day.

Miss you always,

~~ *Miso*

6th Astral Moon,13th Sun - Seventh Astral Era

Hello from the First, my friend!

I’ve been visiting Ryne as often as I can, seeing as she was more or less left alone. Though she is not entirely alone anymore, as recent events have brought someone very special into her life. 

In exploring the Empty, we discovered the first Sin Eater: Eden. 

(This is not, to be clear, the special someone.)

While exploring Eden we were attacked by what we thought at the time was the Oracle of Darkness; her circumstances seemed so similar to Ryne herself. Lacking in memories, she seemed to only vaguely remember details of her life. 

She only knew one thing for certain: her name, Gaia.

I confess, her circumstances put me in mind of my own. Though she remembered more of her past than I did, for I didn't even truly know my name, things seemed to slip from her memory by the minute, with only vague feelings of familiarity left behind.

As it happens, there was an Ascian in her head; trapped within the prison that was Eden. He called to her weakly, whispering, always whispering, her whole life. It seems when Ardbert struck down the Ascian watching over the First, he did not destroy him but imprisoned him and his desire to banish the darkness caused this new, twisted being to release the flood of light as well as the plague we know as the Sin Eaters. 

Who knew the Ascians were the ones actually keeping the Light in check?

If not for Minfilia, the First would have suffered the same fate as the Thirteenth, and left naught but a lifeless void; not only destroying all those who lived upon it, but useless to the Ascian’s plans of a rejoining. I wonder what happened to all those souls from the Thirteenth… is a true rejoining even possible, given all that’s been lost to the Void?

There are so many questions…

The Ascian in question, named Mitron, actually seemed to care deeply for Gaia; she had also been an Ascian who had not yet been woken after her rebirth. The pain of her not remembering him drove him to try and destroy her memories, hoping to leave nothing for her to cling to but the memory of him. Perhaps one hundred years as a the original Sin Eater is a fate that would drive anyone made. But, even for the sake of one he held dear… he expected Gaia to pay a terrible price.

Gaia, it seemed, was not keen to pay it.

We laid the Ascian low in a bittersweet battle for Gaia’s memories; Ryne was able to help Gaia to remember her and the love they shared for one another… AND we succeeded in restoring balance to the Empty, meaning new life will finally spread across the land as it heals from the damage the Light did… Despite all this, despite the fact that I should feel like celebrating these happy moments, along with all the Scions safe return to the Source and G’raha’s awakening… I find myself lost in thought at all that has happened.

Gaia strangely refused to learn the name and details of her birth. She wished to keep the name Gaia and treasure the life she had now over the memories she had lost. Even though the knowledge was there… what she had now was enough. She even rejected Mitron, even though he could have restored her memory of her past lives, even though he loved her and she loved him... and she left behind the entire life she must have lived as far back as Amaurot.

I confess I feel… shock and awe at such strength.

Would that be a price I would pay for that which I can’t remember? Would I, too, have to give up all my memories of my present to regain my past? What would I have to give up for the knowledge of who I was before the Seventh Umbral Calamity, or even who I was before the Final Days? 

I’ve never had to think on it before but… I don’t think I could give up my memories of my friends, of Shtola, of Raha… not even of Emet. Not even if it meant remembering everything else.

Gaia inspired me to look to what I have now. I have so much love around me, so many who care. I’ve been so distracted by what I’ve lost, by what I don’t have that I fear perhaps I have missed out on truly living in the present. 

Who I am today isn’t shaped by who I was. I am who I am because of my experiences, my choices, my friends, my loved ones. I have seen how obsession with restoring what one has lost can become twisted, even if it once was born out of love. I will not let that happen to me.

And yet…and yet... I cannot let go entirely either.

My promise to Emet-Selch yet rings in my ears. He bid me to remember and I can’t help but feel the pull of it, like gravity. I no longer believe he meant for me to to remember what I had learned of their history; that is not remembering. Why else would he set Hythlodaeus in my path? Why else would he have healed my Light-fractured soul? Why else would he leave me the constellation crystals, including that of his… friend… Azem?

Why else would he come when I wished upon that crystal with all my heart?

I do not follow this path to restore my past, or my memories. Though I want to know, and all knowledge is worth having (including trying to remember you), I follow it with new purpose. 

I don’t yet have words for that purpose, but when I figure it out… you will be the first to know.

Until next time, my friend,

~~ Miso