Once I arrived in San d'Oria I finally had time to catch my breath and contemplate all that had happened in the past few weeks. Discontent within the clan, public arguments between my brother's supporters and my court, an attempted coup, that I suppose on some level succeeded. Although, there is nothing left to lord over. All is lost. Our beautiful island is in ruins and the crystal caves have been sealed off because of the cataclysm we brought on. I can no longer feel them providing me power. And worst of all, what's left of the clan is now scattered throughout Vana'diel. It seems we are nomads once again, only nothing binds us together now.
And what of Treali. My beloved Treali. What happened to her? Did she survive? If so, where could she be? I am so bereft of emotion that I can not weep for her even now. Or the countless others that lay dead in the aftermath.
As I became more aware of my surroundings, I realized that I was sitting on the green before the south auction house. I vaguely remember someone asking if I would like to sign up to be an adventurer and suggesting that if I kept at it I could become a Temple or Royal Knight. Bah! I've had enough of court life to last me a hundred lifetimes. The thought of answering to some sergeant-want-to-be general just turns my stomach. I led legions into battle during the Beastmen Wars. These whelps should be answering to me.
Being mistaken for a common adventurer, I was given a coupon for some gil. I needed it as I arrived here penniless and was very hungry.
It was late and I decided it was time to find some accommodations. I had already spent too many a night out in the open with only the dark and things that lurk in the night to keep me company. While eating a meager meal at the inn I found out that all adventurers are granted access to a Mog house and decided to look into it.
The Mog house was little more then a Mog room but it least it had a roof. I found the Moogle to be somewhat of a strange creature but it seems useful nonetheless. Although, I don't know why he keeps calling me Kupo.
A new day dawns-
Even after a good night's sleep I found myself very restless. I'm sure it had something to do the fact that I felt like I was in a foreign land in spite of all the other Elvaan here. Our island was very secluded from the rest of Vana'diel and supplied our every need. We did not welcome and had very little tolerance of outsiders. Ironic that I now find myself to be an outsider.
I decided to explore the city a bit. The last time I was here was for a brief respite on my way to the front lines during the Great War. I found a variety of people here and the native Elvaans to be very proud if not a little misguided. They are in denial to think their former glory will return. I have learned the hard way that you can not live in the past. Change is inevitable and will destroy all you hold dear if you fail to realize that.
Over the next few days I found a few odd jobs which earned me a little more gil, but my sword arm felt like it needed a workout. I was also worried that if I didn't try to practice some arcana I would begin to lose all knowledge of what the Masters taught me.
I took some time to meditate and decided that a mix of black and white magic with the strength of a steel sword would be my best option. While I could no longer feel the raw power coursing through my mind from the Crystal Caves that I once did, I could still sense a sliver of a connection. I surmised that with more meditation and practice, I might be able to better channel the power into my arcana and weapons.
After speaking to the gate guard and finding out that the power crystals can be found on the beasts in this area, my sense of purpose was renewed. Perhaps I could yet recapture some of my former might and try to divine what has become of my kinsman, and my beloved.
I walked out of the gate into West Ronfaure, determined to find my place and make my mark in Vana'diel.
Edited, Fri Oct 14 00:28:38 2005 by Norsalik