Dear Haurchefant,
After the
Sea of Clouds, I thought these strange lands of yours couldn't possibly surprise me further. And yet, I now find myself in the Western Highlands, and my mind reels anew.
When I
first visited Coerthas, I was struck by how quiet the
elementals were, compared to the boisterous choir of the Twelveswood or even the softer, but ever-present dirge of Thanalan. In Coerthas, the voices of the elementals were akin to a whisper, as if they were hibernating deep beneath the ice and snow, slowly healing from the Calamity's wounds.
But even there, I could close my eyes and still see, the elementals singing the lay of the land to me and all who can Hear. Here, a river. There, a mountain. In between, eight tall elm trees. Two old, one inhabited by a family of owls.
In the Western Highlands, the elementals are silent. Truly silent.
There was a time where I would have paid my weight in gil not to hear the elementals anymore. However, I've since became so accustomed to their voices that losing them is akin to losing a sense I hadn't realized I had started relying on.
This silence... It would be deafening if not for the the fact that the elementals have not been the only voices in my head lately. Ever since I've taken the Black, the
murmurs of the Void have added themselves to the endless chattering at the back of my mind. They're not as hard to tune out as the elementals were, oddly enough. I can tell them to shut up, and they listen.
Well, some
times.***
Lalli's
fat cat, who had been watching him write on the table next to him, headbutted his arm roughly, causing the lalafell to partially strike through the last word he had written.
"Oh, come on! Why would you do that?"
You're going to tell him about me? spoke a voice in his head.
"Well... Haurchefant said I shouldn't
keep secrets from him, but between us, he doesn't know what he's getting into."
Ah, I see. It just seemed like that's where you were going."I didn't say it wasn't."
Lalli smirked.
"I'm just playing the long game."
***
Anyway. Lest you forget, I came here on a mission on your father's account: help House Durendaire reclaim the Western Highlands from the heretics. Artoirel, who is very unlike Emmanellain, was not amenable to any faffing about. Thusly, we set out to find the heretics as soon as we had a vague idea where they were.
We walked through the icy wasteland for hours, traveling amongst the remains of the fallen dragons that litter the snow. If not for the spears bristling from their backs, one could have wondered if they were not dead, but merely asleep.
Without the elementals mapping this unfamiliar landscape for me, I quickly got lost and became afraid I would experience a repeat of the first time I tangled with House Durendaire. I wandered around looking for Artoirel for too long - the sun went down and with it, the temperature, which became colder than I thought possible. I couldn't even drink from my waterskin: the water would freeze before touching my lips!
Thankfully, I had my fire spells to keep me warm, and I had the (good or bad?) fortune of running into some helpful locals who brought me to their house in the middle of the ice desert.
I'm not a complete idiot. They were obviously the heretics we'd been looking for. However, in the heat (pun intended) of the moment, going with them seemed a fate preferable to death by hypothermia.
What followed was a very interesting encounter. In their sanctuary, I met with Lady Iceheart herself, and somehow, she seemed uninterested to sacrifice me to her flock. She was accompanied by the (quite adorable, I won't lie) hatchling form of Midgardsormr, who encouraged me to listen to her.
"
You are alike in gifts, yet set upon different paths", said the wyrm.
Iceheart explained what he meant and confirmed something I had been suspecting - that she possesses the Echo. She claims that through her gift, she's learned the truth about the dragon war and now considers it her duty to bring this revelation to the people.
I wish we could have spoken more, but Artoirel and his troops arrived at that moment and stormed the heretics' den. Iceheart fled and I went after her... only to get lost again.
The Twelve were still looking out for me, however. Soon, I heard familiar hoofbeats in the distance; then, on top of a snow bank, I glimpsed the pristine white coat of Amalthea, Raya-O-Senna's unicorn friend. She has a truly uncanny knack for appearing whenever I'm in danger of
dying from exposure.
I hopped on her back and rode back to Falcon's Nest, where I am now writing you. Artoirel's knights have successfully dispatched the heretics, and if all goes well, we'll be back in Ishgard tomorrow.
As is customary for me, I'm not sure how to feel about all this - and while I am immensely intrigued by Iceheart's aborted gospel, it's Amalthea's appearance that's confusing me the most.
You see, I've always somewhat assumed that she was Raya-O-Senna's companion: after all, Raya-O was the one who put me astride the unicorn's back and sent me on a
pilgrimage through Eorzea's most
dangerous interesting locales. I also kind of thought Raya-O had sensed I was in danger, that night in Coerthas, and sent Amalthea to find you so that you would save me.
But Raya-O-Senna
hasn't answered my letters in months. As far as I know, I'm dead to her, the other padjals and the entire conjurer guild. Could Amalthea's visit be an olive branch of sorts?
Or am I just so desperate that I'm reading into the whims of a horse?
I don't know. Every breath I take chills me further, and my heart is as numb as my toes. I hope your nights are warmer than mine.
Your friend,
Lalli