The Miqo'te stared out at the majestic ships of Limsa Lominsa and took a deep breath. The sun reflected off the deep blue seas, and her armour shone, drawing unwanted attention from passers by.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had tarried too long in the region of Thanalan and Gridania. Limsa tempted her to do the same. But being surrounded by friends, safe harbours and the minor pests of nature was not was she had been called to do.
"Arguably, what I was born to do" she whispered.
In her short life, she had enjoyed the wilds, the forests, hiding among the shadows. But having fashioned her own armour she realised her inner resolve now had to match the outward image.
Her black and rose-pink hair wafted in the sea breeze as the task now before her settled in her mind and, more importantly, her heart.
She had to abandon all self-interest, all ties to the fragile things she held dear.
"If I do nothing, even the simple pleasures of hunting, of friendly smiles, of those I held dear...all of these are threatened. " she continued to mutter under her breath.
Traders passed by her, other folk who wished to express their admiration, various creatures and their handlers - all were ignored or not even noticed.
If she wanted to keep her treasures - none of which were material - she had to use the strength of character she had gained in the past, to embrace a future of uncertainty. She knew her tendency to avoid the supple leathers of many of her kind was for a reason.
She sighed and shook her head, closing her emerald-green eyes to the outside world. Now was the moment, to walk away and hope the threat was imagined or exaggerated. Or to accept that which drew more strongly.
To defend those who needed it, to fight alongside those who struggled the most, to work with others determined to stand against the evils that threatened Eorzea.
It would be so easy to walk away, take a Chocobo and flee.
Pushing her wild hair out of her face, she stamped with her right foot and her left hand gripped the hilt of her sword.
Do or die. Stand or fall. Stand or run.
She was torn in both directions, but she knew only one was right. And she had vowed, the first time she picked up a sword, to do what was right.
She turned her heels to march back into Limsa Lominsa and strode purposefully to the Airship Landing. Her heart beat with anxiety, but she had turned her back on what was easy, to face that which was infinitely more challenging. But she had taken the first step.
She would stand. She would defend. She would fight.
If she fell, at least, she thought, she would not regret this moment. The Miqo'te was beckoned onto the Airship. The future may not embrace her, but she would embrace it - come what may.
