Legend has it that
A-Towa-Cant once said "Don't let the destination get in the way of the journey".
It's one of my favorite sayings. Eorzea whispers her secrets to me wherever I go now, but even before I had this ability, I always made sure to make time to admire the wonders of this land we tread. I have seen rivers shine white with the reflection of the clouds above; I have felt wind heavy with the scent of wet grass.
This proverb however doesn't have to be taken so literally. On a more abstract level, it means "don't focus on your goals so much that you forget to enjoy yourself".
When I started training as a gladiator, I had a very clear goal: become strong enough to endure my
white mage training. Now that it's been accomplished, I could very well hang my sword and shield above the mantlepiece, never to be touched again.
And yet... I haven't. At first, it was because members of my Free Company needed my services as a "meat shield", as one of them elegantly put it. Then, it was because First Sword Mylla wanted my help:
Aldis, sword of Nald, is now being hunted down by the Alacran gang. It's a little complicated, but Aldis is a former
lover friend of Mylla's who got expelled from the gladiators' guild for fixing matches. The leader of the Alacran is his vengeful old partner, Leavold. I never expected so much drama to be found amongst gladiators, but... at the end of the day, they're still performers I suppose.
If I'm honest with myself, though... when being a gladiator stopped being about a specific goal, I realized I sincerely enjoyed it. There's something eminently satisfying about putting yourself in harm's way and having blows that would fell an aldgoat bounce off your shield. I never thought I'd like it, and yet, I do. Even when it's hard, even when it's scary.
When I shared this with Mylla, she said she knew I had it in me, but that if I was serious about this, I would have to fight in the Bloodsands as a real gladiator. I tried refusing, but... yeah, that didn't work.
My first fight in the arena was thus promptly arranged for the next evening - against Zazarikku, the Garnet Gladiator. Our battle was to be one of the "appetizer" events warming up the crowd before the real show: Franz the Fair against Georg Galleongut.
My own fighter name was chosen by Mylla: "The Wisp". She said it was a tribute to my flame-colored hair, but I think it's a dig on my lack of muscles.
As for the fight itself... I barely remember anything since I was so nervous. I remember sitting in the hypogeum before the fight, struggling to stay my trembling hands. The rest is a blur of steel on steel and defeaning cheers. I think they sicced a peiste on us at some point?
The one thing I do remember is that at the beginning, Zazarikku tried grabbing my hair to throw me to the ground, and the only thing I could think of doing was to cut it away with my sword.
Painted Mesa (who insisted on watching the fight... and brought the whole mining guild with him) reported that it was a real crowd-pleaser.
I got a cleaner haircut afterwards since I had not done a very precise job with my blade. It's a strange feeling: last time I had short hair was before...
before everything, essentially. It feels like a circle has been completed.
Anyway, Zazarikku and I both survived the fight, and he was deemed the winner. No surprise here - I'm simply happy that the Bloodsands didn't drink too deep from my veins.
To close off this entry, I finally went back to the
Scions and have been investigating with them once more. During my absence, they heard about sightings of a masked man around Little Ala Mhigo. They think it might be the Ascian,
Lahabrea...
The adventure continues.
