Lucan Forfonte

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART TWELVE: summoning

All of his years in Ishgard, all of his years in the Temple Knights, was it all for naught when faced with a man in dark robes calling the void to the very earth they stood on?

       “Then you have chosen,” the robed man said, something maniacal in the tone as he threw back his arms to the sky, like welcoming the sun unto his bosom. Though it didn’t last long, the sun and the clouds in the sky were suddenly cast into a void-like darkness. Purple hues and red so hot it burned his irises, he had to squint to see through the haze as the robed figure seemed to transform the very world around them.

Lucan was in over his head. That was clear from the beginning, but now as the world sunk into the void, as the very ground beneath his feet shook and rumbled, he knew. He knew that whatever battle, whatever war, whatever this was he’d stumbled into, it was like nothing he’d ever fought before. Like nothing he’d ever encountered before. All of his years in Ishgard, all of his years in the Temple Knights, was it all for naught when faced with a man in dark robes calling the void to the very earth they stood on? The very air they breathed? The very sun they bathed in? 

No, it would not all be for naught. As a boy, he’d always looked up to the Temple Knights. Though he was not of one of the high houses, he was not of the poor either. He’d served his country the best way he’d known how when he enlisted with the Temple Knights and the lessons he’d learned there were still valuable, even in times like these. Stand your ground. Wait for the opportunity to strike. Let them show their hand so that you may find a chink in the armor to take advantage of. Though Lucan thought he should have been across this battlefield and swinging his axe already, fear and those lessons had cast their way into his heart and glued him to his position here. 

Something was coming. Something rumbled the earth as a chant began to pour from the robed man’s lips and Lucan decided that he had no patience, no love of magi. If that was what this man was, for he still could not place who he was or what he seemed to be. Above a man, that’s for sure. No ordinary person that the likes of the Summerford Guard would know what to do with. Nor the Yellowjackets, for that reason. No, this was not a battle for law and order. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART ELEVEN: true colors

Lucan thought he stood in the presence of someone who could easily kill him.

       “Who I am matters not.” Not an answer Lucan appreciated and it had him gripping his axe tightly, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. This robed figured, whoever he was, was trouble, that much Lucan knew. That much Lucan understood, but unless he got more information, he was no closer to understanding his dream. Or the visions. This man was the first tangible thing to come of them. Even if the mothercrystal spoke to him, had a conversation, it was still in a vision. This robed man was here. In the now. He needed answers. 

“Then show yourself,” Lucan countered. “If it matters not.” 

A low chuckle, deep in the throat. It was too much to ask of the man to throw back his hood, take off that mask and show his face, Lucan knew, but he was at a loss otherwise. As the robed man stood there, he found he didn’t like being at the disadvantage like this. No clue what this man was capable of, other than summoning golems and voidsent. Lucan thought he stood in the presence of someone who could easily kill him. It was more terrifying than he thought it would be, that realization. 

Ever since he’d left Ishgard, his decisions had been spurred on by the idea that if death found him, it would be of little consequence. He had very little to live for anymore and life seemed to be a selfish want, rather than one guided by service or purpose. But that had all changed and he wasn’t quite sure when. Maybe with the establishment of the Summerford Guard. Maybe when Rhotwyda had brought him a bottle of wine in thanks of her rescue. Or maybe, it was the vision. The mothercrystal telling him that there was something greater out there. Some purpose he was meant to fulfill. If he hadn’t fully embraced it at first, now, in the presence of the robed man, he could see it. Some tangible call to service, just there outside of his grasp and this man stood in his way. So, it was frightening, to realize the extent of the power of the enemy. Magic, the void, and something greater buzzing there in the air around him. Brimming his very being with energy. 

“You will not stand in our way,” the robed figure told him, lifting a hand to point at him, accentuating the words. “You walk in her light. I would see it extinguished.” 

Lucan stood there for a long moment, mouth slightly parted as he processed the words. You walk in her light. The Mothercrystal. Hydaelyn. The call to service, the call to greatness. Even if the robed man wouldn’t tell him who he was, those simple words told him enough. It was real. It hadn’t been an delusion of grandeur. It had his temperament steeling. Had his lips closing into a thin line as he stared across at him and whatever blasé attitude he’d had towards his own life and death melted away in that moment. He may not know the true extent of his purpose in life, but he had one. And he’d served for less. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART TEN: the robed man

The dream. Still ever present in his sleep and vivid in his mind.

       While the others went to aid Aleport, Lucan surveyed the scene within Swiftperch. Blood marred the ground, a sign of the battle. Bodies were still lining the paths and the few that had been taken captive and not killed were being marched to Aleport as they spoke. Lucan hated to admit it, but that’s not how things would have been done in Ishgard. The Temple Knights would have deployed the throat-cutters. A barbaric practice, but one Lucan hardly questioned. Heretics were the majority of Ishgard’s mortal battle. It had taken Lucan a long, long time after leaving the Temple Knights to not simply outright hate them anymore. He couldn’t say he understood them any better, or that he’d ever condone what they did, but he had more patience for misguided actions now than he’d had in the Temple Knights.

The Red Reavers laying dead at his feet, however, he had no sympathy for. They’d made their decisions and they were reaping the consequences. Certainly nothing they’d expected, death for their actions, but if they had not even considered the possibility, then they were more misguided than Lucan had given them credit for. They’d come here seeking blood, was it not fair to understand that blood may be their own? 

“You are no simple adventurer.” 

The words were familiar, spoken to him in a different tone by a different woman, Y’shtola. But this voice did no belong to her. Too deep, too ethereal and it had him spinning around, axe held at the ready, only once he laid eyes upon the speaker, his blood ran cold. 

The dream. Still ever present in his sleep and vivid in his mind. A robed man, clad all in black always stood at the end, reaching for him as if to tear him away from the land of reality. And now, that robed man stood in front of him. In the flesh. Staring down at him through a mask of black. He didn’t need to see the face to know the sinister nature of it. This man screamed void, screamed power, screamed danger. 

“Who are you?” Lucan demanded. 

“You bested my golem,” he replied, ignoring the question. The day he’d fought the golem to save Sevrin, had this man been there? The words all but spoke of it and Lucan’s teeth grit at the revelation. “And my voidsent.” 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART NINE: void sent

He would give everything he had to bring it down and if today was the day he died, to this beast, then none could blame him for lack of trying.

       “Is that a bloody voidsent?” One of the Yellowjackets who fought alongside Lucan yelled, staggering in their steps as a screech rang out through the air. The winged creature emerged from behind the corner of a building, bat-like wings and grotesque lizard-like body making it a sight to behold. Of all the things Lucan had fought in his life, voidsent was not one of them. He’d taken on wyverns with little fear in his heart. Beasts of all sort of natural manner. But voidsent? That was an entirely different story. 

If fear panged his heart for a moment, he swallowed it quickly. Now was not the time. The Red Reavers had their tails between their legs, either slowing in their attacks or all out setting their weapons down. But the appearance of the voidsent had several of them taking up their courage again. Lucan left the Reavers to the Yellowjackets and set himself squarely in front of the voidsent. 

Did it bleed? he wondered. Could it be stopped by a mortal blade such as his axe? Would it cast some type of spell he needed to be wary about? All of these questions ran through his head and he didn’t have time to truly think of them before the creature was swinging down upon them. He would give it his best. He would give everything he had to bring it down and if today was the day he died, to this beast, then none could blame him for lack of trying. He wouldn’t let this creature turn the tide of this battle. 

The voidsent dodged the first attack with a great swoop of it’s wings, sending dust swirling up into the air around Lucan’s axe. He caught it on the upswing, however, cutting through the leathery skin of its wing and eliciting a screech from the creature. It was ear piercing, but Lucan flinched only a little, grip tightening on his axe before he took another swing. Then another. Some found purchase, some did not. He got a claw to the shoulder once in return, finding it’s way beneath his shoulder pad and drawing blood, but he’d worry about the wound later. 

It was hearty, he’d give it that. Sturdy and able to withstand too many blows before Lucan could finally land a killing one. He caught it off guard, with the help of another Yellowjacket as a distraction and landed a blow of his axe to the center of it’s back. With one final screech let up into the heavens, it fell to the ground, writhing there long enough for Lucan to sever it’s head from it’s body with one last tremendous swing of his axe. 

Bleeding it did not do, but as the life was cut from it, dark tendrils reached out into the air, dissipating into a cloud of black and purple dust. The void, outside of the grasp of understanding Lucan had on the way the world worked. But he could tell when a voidsent was sent home to it and he watched as that dust in the air, glittering and somewhat beautiful, disappeared into nothingness. 

A deep breath and he turned to make sure he hadn’t missed anything with the Reavers, but found the Yellowjackets were just wrapping up their own fights. Several Reavers were in shackles already, several more still lay on the ground, their bodies cooling as the life drained out of them. The captain came up to Lucan, looking at what little evidence was left of the Voidsent and shook his head. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART EIGHT: square off

This was his watch. And no one was dying on his watch. Not ever again.

       The battle was a brutal one, as often was between men. It was different than fighting wyvern or beasts or even beast-men. The blood was different. The screams different. The wounds different. The tactics different. There seemed to be more stakes on the table, more to lose and less to soften the blow of the reality that Lucan was taking another man’s life. 

Red Reaver or no, this was someone’s child. Someone’s husband or wife. Someone’s father or mother. Someone loved this person, someone had dreams for this person. It helped, Lucan found, not to think that he was killing the man, but rather to think he was stopping their actions. It’s what had brought them to this point. That no matter the person behind them, their actions needed to be paid for in blood. 

It made it more difficult knowing the way the Red Reavers conscripted people. Though, if any man there was fighting against their will, they showed no signs of it and Lucan took what small comfort he could in seeing bloodlust in each and every one of their eyes. No regret, simply the need to slay any man or woman who wore yellow. And while Lucan was not in the garb befitting a Yellowjacket, today he stood beside them. This was his watch. And no one was dying on his watch. Not ever again. 

Lucan started the battle by slicing a man’s arm clean off his body. While the Red Reavers fought with different weapons, he needed to relieve the archers of their range, lest they find arrows embedded deep between their shoulders blades. Around him, steel clanged with steel, but Lucan made his way for the ranged mean first, chasing them down if need be and dodging arrows as they were fired upon him. In the chaos, it took them longer than expected to realize Lucan’s tactic and in the end, the closest any of them got to firing upon him was an arrow tip that dinged off his shoulder pad. 

A cry rang out and Lucan turned brusquely, his eyes met with a Yellowjacket Miqo’te stumbling backwards, her arm bloodied from the raised axe of a Reaver, ready to bring it down on her again. Lucan wasn’t having it, lunging forward with a swing of his axe to block the attack, diverting it instead into the dirt. The force of it would have cleaved the young Miqo’te in two. Instead, it left Lucan’s arms reverberating with the blow. 

He hefted his own axe up, taking a swing, but the Reaver was skilled, deflecting the blow with his axe he’d pulled from the dirt. For a moment, they took swings at each other, one after another, deflecting and dodging where it made sense to do so until finally, Lucan faked out the other man into taking a swing in his direction and landing a kick to the man’s side. It made him stumble and gave Lucan the opportunity to drive his axe upward, into the man’s thigh. A killing blow, as the man would bleed out in moments. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART SEVEN: red reavers return

“Alarum! Alarum!” the panicked scout shouted...

       While Lucan didn’t wear the yellow, his time in Swiftperch was spent with the Fourth Levy of the Yellowjackets. He bunked with them, debriefed with them and told them what he knew of the Red Reavers while sharing information they’d already gathered. The information he’d given them about the abductions from Summerford Farms seemed to be happening with the shipyard workers in Aleport as well. It meant that not everyone they were fighting was going to be with the Reavers of their own free will. Something that they’d have to keep in mind. 

Things escalated a bit sooner than Lucan had anticipated. On a night when he and a few of the other Yellowjackets were relaxing in their bunks, playing a hand of triple triad, one of their scouts came running in. “Alarum! Alarum!” the panicked scout shouted, putting every Yellowjacket, and Lucan, on edge immediately. 

“Ye gods, man,” one of the Yellowjacket Captains shouted. “Consider it sounded, now tell us why?” 

“The Red Reavers, sir,” the scout said breathlessly, taking deep panting gasps to try and get himself under control. “They’re coming to Swiftperch.” 

“Here?” the Captain said, jumping down from his bunk and grabbing his axe. Lucan’s was never far and his hands were on it in an instant. “They mean to bring the fight to us.” 

“Aye, sir.” 

It was a simple exchange, but every Yellowjacket in the area was dressed with axe in hand in no time. The Captain barked orders, told his crew in the Fourth to keep scouts at every entrance and he sent runners to Aleport to try and draw some more numbers back from their patrols there, though Lucan advised to keep a small contingent in Aleport, it’d be folly to leave the dock town unguarded if this was a simply distraction. 

Not long after, Lucan was gripping his axe tighter at the sight of a band of Reavers making their way to the gates of Swiftperch. Led by a burly Roedagyn man, though not the same as he’d fought with Sevrin. Still, there was no doubt he was a high rank in the Red Reavers just by the way he carried himself, and the way the men behind him followed at close quarters. 

“If you’ve come to surrender, we accept,” The Captain called out and while Lucan didn’t like to antagonize his enemies, he knew part of it was to just draw out the real reason they were here. If there was a way to avoid bloodshed, the Yellowjackets were going to try to take it. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART SIX: conscripted

A man respected, in every sense of the word.

       Commodore Reyner Hansred was a man of distinguishment in Limsa Lominsa. At the head of the Yellowjackets, the people either revered him or hated him, depending on their lot in life and run in with the law of Limsa. Lucan could recognize and respect a man of reverence and therefore had the utmost respect for the Commodore. It still didn’t mean he wanted to take the man up on his offer to wear yellow. 

Though whether he was joining a guild finally or not was not the topic of conversation when Lucan made his way to the Marauder’s guild, where Reyner was waiting patiently with several others of the First Levy, the contingent assigned to the walls of Limsa Lominsa herself. Though the Commodore wasn’t the most stout of men, Lucan had found not many had to be to be formidable. 

“Ah, Ser Forfonte,” the Commodore called and the title grated on him, he’d given up the Ser when he’d abandoned his duties in the Temple Knights, but Reyner was ever a man of character and class. He’d learned early on that despite being told of his abandonment, a Ser would remain a Ser until his grave. “Thank you for joining me.” 

“It was a unique ploy,” Lucan uttered, looking up at him from the lower balcony. Reyner smiled, coy as ever, and turned to descend the stairs so he could be on level ground as Lucan. A man respected, in every sense of the word. Lucan waited patiently, nodding his late greeting when Reyner came to stand next to him. 

“Such are the ways you’ve established,” Reyner said and there was no malice in the words, but Lucan still found them irritating. He’d been hard to recruit for a reason. Because he wasn’t open to be conscripted into anything. But here he was, finding himself in the man’s presence anyway, waiting for orders. “Forgive me the deception?” 

Lucan squared his jaw. “If you tell me why I’m here.” 

“No doubt Wyrnzoen gave you some degree of explanation,” Reyner started, motioning for Lucan to follow him towards an empty table with stacks of papers upon it. Lucan did, but neither man took a seat. “Beyond that, it’s simple. The Red Reavers have taken up business in Limsa Lominsa and while my Yellowjackets are fully capable of culling their threat within the walls, the Fourth Levy has been wholly outnumbered.” 

The Fourth Levy, another contingent of the Yellowjackets, patrolled Western La Noscea. Lucan knew enough about the different branches of the Yellowjackets to know the Fourth found their home within Aleport. He’d drank with a few of them on occasion during his late night patrols. 

“Between the Sahagain and the Red Reavers, they’ve been run ragged. And now the Red Reavers are on the move. We could use a man whose bested one before. A man of your caliber.” 

Lucan sighed. “Conscript some of your pirates instead.” 

“And risk infiltration?” The question was a good one, the notion better and Lucan hated it. The Red Reavers were recruiting. He knew full well from his run in with Sevrin and the other farmhands at Summerford just how persuasive they could be. “No. We need a man we can trust. One job, that’s all I’m asking.” 

“Where?” Lucan asked, annoyed but knowing that he wasn’t going to say no to an ask like that. Reyner knew it too, there was no point in drawing this out longer than it needed to be. His thought went back to his dream of the Mothercrystal. No wasn’t going to be an answer he could afford much longer, he suspected. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART FIVE: tricked

This didn’t feel like a normal recruitment ploy to try and get him under the banner of the Marauder’s Guild.

       It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but somehow still did, when Lucan returned only to find Wyrnzoen had replaced Reynfred. The whole ordeal had the guildmaster’s scent all over it. Still, he found himself stalling when he walked into the inn in Aleport to find the Marauder’s Guildmaster standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning ear to ear when he saw the blood spotted on Lucan’s armor. 

“I see you’ve taken care of our Coeurl problem” he stated. With a heavy sigh, Lucan sat down in a chair wordlessly, nodding to the innkeep to bring him his usual and simply stared back at the Guildmaster. Lucan had to give him credit, he was nothing if not persistent. “Wasn’t too much trouble, I hope.” 

“You owe me an armor polishing,” Lucan muttered, accepting his ale from the innkeep and he took a swig as Wyrnzoen sat down across from him. 

“Consider it done,” and that’s how he knew the man was serious. His face echoed it in the next moment and Lucan braced himself. This didn’t feel like a normal recruitment ploy to try and get him under the banner of the Marauder’s Guild. This felt like something different. “The Commodore needs to see you.” 

“You can tell Reyner that my answer is still no,” Lucan told him. 

Wyrnzoen just shook his head. “This isn’t a conscript.” Lucan would believe it when he saw it. He wasn’t sure what Commodore Reyner needed in all of this, but there was a reason they went to these lengths to try and get his attention. A reason they didn’t just go to Summerford to ask for his help and he thought he knew it before the Guildmaster even said it. “This is about the Red Reavers.” 

“Maelstrom took them out,” Lucan insisted. 

“Not all of them,” Wyrnzoen shook his head. “Maelstrom was only interested in the bigg’uns. It’s the underlings the Yellowjackets want to try to clean up. Cut the head off one snake, another grows back, ain’t that right?” 

It wasn’t exactly how the saying went, but Lucan got the point. The Commodore knew of Lucan’s involvement in taking down the leader of the Red Reavers, had probably read the reports, what with him being tied so closely to the Admiral herself. The Yellowjackets were like peace officers, protecting Limsa Lominsa herself and rarely heading out into the surrounding areas. If they were going after the Red Reavers...

“They started doing business in Limsa.” 

Wyrnzoen clucked his tongue. “Their mistake. Reyner won’t stand for it. But he can’t be everywhere at once. What do you say? Meet with him? Finish what you started?” 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART FOUR: the coeurl

It had tasted the flesh of man now, there was no letting it go.

       Tracking down the coeurl proved easier than he thought it would. He’d never been a hunter for sport, but tracking Wyvern and dragonling prints in the snow had taught him enough about the hunt to lead him to Reynfred’s coeurl. It was a rather big one, burly and brusque and the smell wafted his way on the wind before he even saw the beast. It was too close to Aleport for comfort and regardless if he’d taken up the job or not, if he’d come across this beast on his own, it was one he would put down simply for it’s proximity to civilization. 

The tall grass and downward wind hid him long enough from the beast that he didn’t have to worry being spotted early. He watched it’s movements, trying to find there was any reason to not kill the beast. Partially healed wounds on its haunches told him this was the best the others had come for. That alone spoke of needing to put it down. It had tasted the flesh of man now, there was no letting it go. 

Raising his axe, he charged the beast while it wasn’t looking, honor not a thing on his mind with a beast like this. The honor would be in killing it quickly, not how he did it. The coeurl, however, turned sharply, sensing his approach. Lucan had to dodge a swipe from massive claws, just inches away from his armor. He swung down his axe, trying to find purchase, but the coeurl was fast. He could see why this one had given others trouble. 

It roared, showing off it’s incisors larger than Lucan’s hands and he didn’t want to know what it would feel like to had a pair of those clamping down on one of his limbs, armor or no. He needed to end this fight, needed to not risk injury because even the slightest disadvantage could be the only thing a beast like this needed to take down its hunter. 

He waited for an opportunistic strike. Dodging the coeurl as it leapt at him and when it exposed it’s side to him as he stepped out of the way, Lucan swung the axe around hard, feeling the moment it struck muscle and bone. The Coeurl let out a pained roar, swiping at Lucan and scratching fine lines up the middle of his armor. He’d never been more thankful for the armorsmiths who’d supplied him with this chest piece in particular, as it held against the claws. Still, it was too close for comfort. 

It was now or never, as the coeurl leap at him. Lucan had to make a killing blow and make it fast, so he swung his axe, risking his own hide in the process should he fail to swing heavily enough. But the axe came down on the coeurl’s exposed head, slicing into the fur and the bone and splattering him with hot, acrid blood before it slumped to the ground, dead almost immediately. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART THREE: the contract

“A coeurl,” he mentioned. “Nasty one. Ate two of the fellers I’ve already sent after it.

       The tavern in Aleport was home to some of the best ale Lucan had ever had. Cold and froathy with an aftertaste that had his chest tightening. Just what he needed after a long day of patrolling. It’s there, as he nursed a wooden mug deep into the night, that he ran into Reynfred. A rather burly Roegadyn that sported a rather flimsy bow. It was enough to draw a smile across Lucan’s face, because the caliber didn’t match the man, but he had no doubt he was good with that bow. 

“You look like an adventurer,” the man had said upon first meeting. “I’m Reynfred, looking for someone to hire for a spot of work that could make good use of the axe on your back.” 

Lucan had shaken his head, telling the man, “Just passing through,” and that should have been it. Only he was there the second time Lucan went for ale, and the third and the fourth. It wasn’t until the fifth that “just passing through” didn’t do what it needed to with the man. Lucan found himself squared off with him, Reynfred buying him a mug of ale this time to set down in front of him. 

“Buy ya a month’s worth if ya help me take care of a little problem,” Reynfred told him. 

This time, Lucan sighed, knowing he couldn’t get away with just passing through, because the man had seen him a handful of times and probably knew this was a patrol route. He was a regular in Aleport now. Glancing at the Roegadyn, he squared his jaw. “What’s the little problem?” he asked. 

Reynfred sat down across from him, taking the words as an invitation. “A coeurl,” he mentioned. “Nasty one. Ate two of the fellers I’ve already sent after it. But ya look like a man ‘at can handle himself.” 

A coeurl he could handle. Even a nasty one. Big cats, but they were still just beasts that could bleed. The concerning part was that two others had gone after it to no avail. Lost their lives in the process and while he still wanted to say that no, it wasn’t his business, that alone drew him in. If he said no, some other poor sop might say yes and be the beast’s third victim. 

“Where?” he asked. 

“So you’ll do it?” Reynfred asked, beaming in his direction. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian     PART TWO: free days

What, at the end of it all, would he leave on this world?

       Now that Summerford Farms wasn’t on high alert, Lucan also found time for himself. He didn’t need to patrol every waking hour of the day anymore, Staelwyrn had practically ordered that he take some breaks while the rest of the farmhands took watch. It left Lucan with some alone time that he didn’t always know how to fill. 

Back in his days in the Temple Knights, he’d whittle. Carve small pieces of wood into whistles or totemic carvings that meant very little, but were pretty and something to keep his hands busy. That was the biggest problem Lucan had with quiet days, he didn’t do sit still well enough. Never could. It gave him too much time to think. It’s why he never thought he’d like fishing, but he found it relaxing. If he focused on casting his line, anticipating a bite and the thrill of reeling in a fish he may have for dinner or bring back to the farms to share with the farmhands, his thoughts wouldn’t run errant. 

One night in particular, Limsa Lominsa started shooting off fireworks while Lucan was enjoying a quiet evening of fishing. His gaze went skyward, wondering if the loud bangs and booms would scare off the fish, but he found he didn’t care. The light show was brilliant in the night sky. Some celebration he found himself mesmerized and caught up in. Celebrating heroes past and future and it made him wonder. Who would come after him? What legacy had he left on this world other than families with dead relatives who’d been under his watch? What would he leave now? With the crystal he still felt in his pocket, burning a touch deep within in his soul. What, at the end of it all, would he leave on this world? A memory? A scar? Or was he just a passing breeze? 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER FOUR- - - - - The Ascian      PART ONE: patrol

The most dangerous times were quiet, peaceful times, he found.

       With the case of the missing farmhands solved and peace restored to Summerford Farms, Lucan found his patrol duties to be limited and somewhat needless. A few errant beasts here and there that wandered too close for comfort, but nothing the average pirate couldn’t handle. The thought of disbanding his one man guard post came to mind, but Staelwyrn insisted he stay on as the guard. That just because quiet reigned supreme in the here and now, it didn’t mean the future wouldn’t hold some other need of Lucan’s talents. 

Lucan knew that only all too well. The most dangerous times were quiet, peaceful times, he found. Often interrupted by the unexpected. So he agreed. Agreed to stay on as the sole Summerford Guard, under one condition: his patrol range was to be widened. Rather than simply patrolling Summerford and beyond the Lift, he’d head into Western La Noscea. From the road passing by the Brewer’s Beacon all the way to Aleport, he would patrol day and night. It would give him a change of scenery, though the landscape was similar to Summerford. High, limestone rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean as far as the eye could see. 

The Brewer’s Beacon was a lighthouse that would give him a view of all the major landmarks in the area. From Aleport’s massive shipyard to the Isles of Umbra, where the ship graveyard littered the waves and Pharos Sirius stood tall among the clouds, scored for an eternity by the breath of Bahamut, large yellow crystals immortalized in it’s epicenter. Both were well known causes for trouble and Lucan liked to keep an eye on said trouble. 

His favorite time to patrol was at night, when the crystals glowed brighter than the moon and the stars combined. Golden light shining out across the land. Brewer’s Beacon paled in comparison, though he gathered the lighthouse itself was not really used as a lighthouse. The brewery beneath was the reason for the building. Some nights, he’d even stop in for a quick brew, though none that would threaten his ability to patrol. He could only imagine what his former guard captain would think of drinking on the job. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER THREE- - - - - The Errant Rogue        PART ELEVEN: punishment

“I been ‘fraid of them gallows for years.”

       It was a long walk home for Sevrin. Lucan didn’t envy the boy and it was hard for him to not offer his condolences for the predicament he’d found himself in. A string of bad decisions that lead to this moment. But in his heart, he knew Sevrin was getting a second chance. Or maybe he was on his third or fourth at this time, either way, it was a chance not many in his position were afforded. 

As the two walked up the road to Summerford Farms and a familiar face near the common house with his burly arms crossed over his chest, Sevrin nearly stalled. A firm hand on his shoulder, Lucan’s, was the only thing that made him move forward. Lucan’s gaze met Staelwyrn’s as they arrived and something silent passed between them. Gratitude, for returning the missing farmhands. And amusement, he surmised, because Sevrin was basically quaking in his boots. 

“Staelwyrn, sir, I...-” 

“You’ll not speak until you’re spoken to,” Staelwyrn cut him off, curt and short and ever the discipline that a lad like Sevrin would need. Lucan headed off to the wall, to lean against it and watch the scene play out. He’d seen dressing downs before in his time with the Temple Knights. Had been at the butt of a couple of them himself and in all cases, they were well deserved. Over the top, some of them, but the lessons were crucial. He had no doubt that Staelwyrn, as a former pirate captain, would give one similar. 

“You meant to sell my farmhands, my friends, to the Red Reavers,” Staelwryn stated the obvious. “You had no idea what they had planned for them. Could have been selling ‘em into slavery for all you cared, ain’t that right?” 

Sevrin quivered. “It weren’t that I didn’t care...” he said and at Staelwyrn’s steely gaze, he quickly added, “But I s’pose you got the gist of it right.” He swallowed thickly. Rather bravely, Lucan thought, he asked, “Might I make a request, sir?” 

“I’ll hear one, but I don’t know if I’ll grant one,” Staelwyrn answered. 

“If...if it ain’t too much ta ask, I’d implore you to find it in yer heart to dish down gaol time?” Sevrin asked and Lucan frowned slightly, not sure why in the world Sevrin would be asking to go to the gaol. At least not until the next words and he had to hold back a smirk as he exchanged another glance with Staelwyrn. “I been ‘fraid of them gallows for years. I promise I won’t eat much in the gaol. You’ll barely even know I’m there. I’ll even take a beatin’ every once in a while if pleases ya. Just...just please not the gallows.” 

For a long moment, the farm master stood there, staring down Sevrin like the ask was preposterous. “You think I’d waste good muscle on the gallows?” Staelwyrn asked, making Sevrin look up at him with hopeful eyes. “You’re more daft than I thought. I’ve got crops to plant, aurochs to milk, fields to plow. You’ve got work to do around here, son.” 

“You’d still ‘ave me?” Sevrin asked, bewildered. 

Staelwyrn’s face hardened. “Everyone gets one second chance here. You’ve used yours up, don’t make me regret it.” 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER THREE- - - - - The Errant Rogue        PART TEN: penance

Lucan turned to Sevrin, looking downtrodden and defeated in ways he’d seen men look before.

       Rhotwyda and the others had been returned safely, a little bit worse for wear but otherwise alive. The Red Reavers had been taken in by the Maelstrom guard, though they swore they hadn’t done anything wrong or tried to recruit people against their will. It became obvious by the rope burns and bruises that was a lie. After Lucan had seen to Rhotwyda, that she was relatively unharmed, he went to find Sevrin, nursing his wounds in the med bay. 

The Maelstrom had wanted to arrest Sevrin in relation to all of this. The missing farmhands, aside from those at the end which Sevrin had saved, still viewed him as an imbecile and a coward. They’d also pointed the finger at him for being the one to get them taken in the first place. Sevrin didn’t argue and when the Maelstrom had come to put him in chains, it was Lucan who stepped between the two of them. 

“Come on, Lucan,” one of the Maelstrom tried to reason with him. “He was selling his mates to the pirate crew. They paid him, you know that?” 

He hadn’t known that part, but he still believed that Sevrin hadn’t known the full of it. If only through sheer stupidity or blindness. Whether he got paid would be a matter he’d have to settle in his own conscience. “This is Summerford business,” Lucan said, earning him exasperated looks all around. The Summerford Guard was a one man army and neither the Maelstrom nor the Yellow Jackets truly acknowledged it’s legitimacy.

Though, eventually, they let Sevrin go with him. It wasn’t because of the guard duty he’d taken on, it was because of who he was and what he’d done for each of them in the past. It was because they still wanted him wearing their colors at some point and trusted him to dole out punishment befitting the crime. He had every intention to. 

As soon as the Maelstrom were gone, Lucan turned to Sevrin, looking downtrodden and defeated in ways he’d seen men look before. Like they were beyond redemption, like they were filled with nothing more than self-pity and self-loathing. He knew that look well, because he’d had that same in his eyes at one point in his life. After the Wyvern. 

“Let’s go see Staelwyrn,” he told Sevrin, not trying to console him in the moment. It wasn’t his place. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER THREE- - - - - The Errant Rogue        PART NINE: promises

“The other farmhands, are they still alive?”

       “Rhotwyda,” Lucan demanded of Sevrin, now that he had his wits back about him. “Was that your doing?” He was starting to gain a clearer picture of these kidnappings. Sevrin used to be a Red Reaver, that much he’d gathered. And he’d deserted to go work at Summerford, obviously not agreeing with the reavers’ way of doing things. The letter he’d gotten must have been a sign that they’d found him and once he had the fear in him, they could get him to do whatever they wanted. He didn’t think Sevrin was the kidnapper, but he certainly lured the missing to the reavers, who were. 

“Aye,” Sevrin cried, shaking his head. “But I ‘ad no idea they were ‘urting ‘em. I just thought they were recruitin’. But today, when we got ‘ere and I realized...” he shook his head. “Ah, me mates are going to kill me, I can’t believe I almost got ‘em hurt.” 

“You said hurt, not dead,” Y’shtola observed. “The other farmhands, are they still alive?” 

Nodding, Sevrin told her, “I can show you where.” 

“You’ll show the Maelstrom,” Y’shtola demanded, to which Sevrin cried out again, knowing full well that it would come with a punishment, but he didn’t complain further than that. Lucan eyed Y’shtola, wondering if it wouldn’t just be better to go and get them now, before that Red Reaver who’d been here had a chance to go back and finish them all off, but Y’shtola seemed to have the same idea. “Then come, we have little time to waste.”

As Y’shtola took Sevrin’s elbow to lead him towards the Maelstrom headquarters in Limsa, she turned to look at Lucan again. He nodded to her in silent appreciation for the return of Rhotwyda and the others. He didn’t need to be a one man show and in this case, he had no qualms about letting Limsa Lominsa’s own guards take control of this one. Especially when he’d be vastly outnumbered and threaten to put Rhotwyda in harms way even more if he did. 

“I’ll see the others home,” Lucan told them both. 

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER THREE- - - - - The Errant Rogue        PART EIGHT: recovered

It was in those eyes that he saw something he didn’t quite know how to read.

       Awakening, Lucan pulled himself to his feet, unsteadily. The thought that danger may still be present was enough to get him to survey the scene, but what he found was a relief rather than a worry. Y’shtola was knelt down by Sevrin, who seemed to be recovering nicely. His breathing was labored, but he was back into a state-of-mind that allowed him to be aware of his surroundings. The wounds would take time to heal, she’d said and he believed her, but her healing magic had done wonders to save his life in the meantime. 

It was Sevrin who looked at him first, but he doubted it was him who noticed he’d returned to the land of the living first. Before the farmhand could say anything, Y’shtola didn’t even turn around to look at him as she uttered, “Is this a habit of yours, Lucan? Fainting after a fight?” 

Lucan snorted, though he wasn’t amused. If this was becoming a habit, it was a horrible one. He had a new soreness in his shoulders from his collapse to the ground and if the fight hadn’t truly been over, her would have been in trouble. Let alone what kind of trouble he would have left her and Sevrin in. “I hope not,” he lamented. He almost told her that he’d had a vision, but couldn’t quite find the words to do so. How did one come out and say that they’d dreamt of you in a waking dream?

Rising to her feet, Y’shtola reached for Sevrin, helping him up as well before she finally turned to look at him. It was in those eyes that he saw something he didn’t quite know how to read. A look that spoke of a knowledge she was just now processing as she scanned him, coming to some conclusion that had her sighing at him with a slight smile on her face. “Strange,” she said and he didn’t take offense. He found it strange too, even without the explanation that he’d collapsed due to the vision. 

Instead of focusing on him any longer, Y’shtola turned to look at the fallen golem. “Who summoned our golem friend?” 

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Lucan tried not to sound accusatory, but he didn’t quite make it and if she took offense, she didn’t show it. Instead, she walked over to the golem, put on her goggles that he’d seen her use earlier and look around them. Pulling them off a moment later, unsatisfied, she turned back to him. 

“Out of the scope of my abilities, I’m afraid,” she mentioned, kicking one of the rocks that used to belong to the golem. “And no culprit in sight, save you.” 

Lucan didn’t even make a face as she shot the accusation back at him. He did, however, turn to look at the fallen golem and shook his head. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” 

“As I figured,” Y’shtola assured him. “T’would seem we are destined to cross paths,” she told Lucan. “And now we know the culprits behind your kidnappings.”

❦  BOOK ONE - A Realm Reborn   ❦

❧ CHAPTER THREE - - - - - The Errant Rogue        PART SEVEN: vision

It was so clear as day, he swore he was actually there, swore he could reach out and tap her shoulder.

       Once again, it was as if Lucan was transported to a different time and place altogether from where he’d been moments before. Time and spaced contorted, bending and mixing in ways that were terrifying at first until they broke and he stood not at the precipice of creation this time, but rather a certain time with Y’shtola walking around Limsa Lominsa. It was so clear as day, he swore he was actually there, swore he could reach out and tap her shoulder. 

But he was rendered a watcher when he tried. His hand going straight through her. He couldn’t interact with anything at all, just walk along with Y’shtola as she pondered the words of pirates; looked up at Dalamud, the lesser moon and handed a lily to a frightened child to calm them down. Seemingly inconspicuous actions, each with their own jump in time and space that rendered him a watcher once more. 

It was until the final jump, where Y’shtola turned and withdrew aether viewing goggles from her pouch that Lucan realized what timeline he was seeing. The pirates had spoken of missing farmers from Summerford, blaming it on the lesser moon as a tale to scare the children. It had worked and Y’shtola had assured them that no, the great beast Bahamut had not returned. And as she walked now, she followed the trail outside of Summerford, frowning as she put on her goggles. 

“Hmm, what aether is this?” she pondered to herself. He followed her as she took off at a run, urging herself forward and reached a familiar looking cave entrance. Seasong Grotto. As she paused outside the door to peek in, so too did he and it was surreal seeing who stood inside. Himself. In the armor and headspace he’d been that day. So, she’d been spying on him for a moment before making her presence known. He didn’t like the knowledge that he’d been watched without knowing, made only slightly better with the knowledge of Y’shtola’s purpose and Sharlayan heritage.