Chapter Text
Hello, loyal readers! It’s Kipih Jakkya here, reporter for The Raven, welcoming you to a new section of Gridania's leading tabloid. Here on Page Fourteen, we’ll discuss all the best gossip about your favorite public figures, especially your hero and mine, the Warrior of Light! All sources are anonymized, to give them free rein to report most accurately and in exquisite relevant detail about the goings-on of our favorite primal slayer!
Our first report hails from our very own streets of Ul’dah, where our snappily-dressed hero was seen walking outside the walls with a commoner in a lovely pink linen ensemble . Our source wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but the two appeared quite familiar, with our hero sharing a drink with the giggling little lady. How intimate! They even passed a carefully wrapped box to the lalafell! We wonder what else they’re sharing in private, given their body language during such a romantic stroll. We will keep our eyes and ears open
Nanamo sighed as she set the paper down by her morning tea. She was so certain she hadn’t been followed. She would have to have Pipin assign a shadow to follow her next time, to find if she’s being tailed. She will simply have to change up her exit points on her little sojourns to the streets. At least the follower had not identified her. She could not imagine if such word of her clandestine habits were distributed to someone like Fyrgeiss or Lolorito. Twins forbid it reach Papashan.
The idea, really, though, that she would be meeting romantically with the Warrior of Light! The tea they brought from Doma as a token of appreciation from that lovely Hien would indeed be worthy as a courting gift. But a sultan must be honest, and as charming as the Warrior is, a fitting political match for the stability of the city, they are not.
She sighed and reached for her tea, first placing the alchemical test droplet in it. As sultan, she could request the paper stop such madness, but she knew, both from personal experience and from observing her equals in the allied cities, that good ruler did not hold the reins too tightly. Besides, surely the paper would step afoul of someone less controlled shortly and be corrected of their folly.
A new report comes to us this month from a budding reporter who traveled from the outpost of the Waking Sands, beyond Horizon. They tell us that the hero of the people was seen talking with a certain reclusive scholar, standing close enough to see well under that mysterious hood and witness the shape of the face attached to a magnificent jawline and lovely baritone voice. Mayhap in the next interview, we’ll find out who the hero’s secretive suitor is and how much they know of what fine form the scholar conceals with those ill-fitting robes and belt!
Urianger knew he had more important things to read than this Ul’dahn fishwrap. But someone (he did suspect F’lhaminn, meaning well in her intentions for him to occasionally rest and pursue less strenuous knowledge) had left the page interleaved into his current treatise, and he had read the most of the paragraph. Magnificent jawline, indeed. And his robes were of a perfectly acceptable cut, common to researchers in this realm. The scribe, if they truly earned the name, of this journal, if it could even be called such, had quite the flight of fancy, but alas, no puissance with the pen. It was a shame, speaking to the paltry state of learning in this city, that they would be entertained by such flights of fancy about a humble scholar and the admittedly fine-featured Warrior of Light. Mayhap (indeed) he should pen a story himself, to demonstrate how a fable for the ages is crafted.
A new report for a new year, bringing the hottest news to our faithful readers! It appears that our illustrious savior has been seen escorting a young elvaan lady from Sharlayan, known around Eorzea for her feisty attitude and swordplay, around the far country of Kugane. Our source reports they had a lively time talking to merchants and shopping in the main markets. One reporter suggests that the relationship might have been established for a while, with the lady having previously been observed buying a sword for our hero. Were we speaking of any other individual, we would wonder as to the appropriateness of such unchaperoned escort of such a young lady. But we would never impugn our hero’s morals like so, as we know they are fine and upstanding in the presence of even the strongest temptation until ages are fully proper.
Alisaie ripped the paper in half. How dare that hack writer! How dare they even imply such a thing. The idea of a relationship between the Warrior of Light and her was so unthinkable, it was ludicrous! Their behavior towards her had always been that of a big brother towards her, not...not someone to be “tempted”. It made her sound like one of the doxies in Lominsa, working her wares. Worse was “feisty.” She may not have had the patience of her brother and her grandfather or father for the high society of Sharlayan, but she understood full well what that word said and didn’t say. “Feisty swordplay,” indeed. And worst was that this hack could not seem to differentiate between her and her brother. It certainly wasn’t her that was involved in the folly of that nodachi purchase, however amusing seeing the punishments Tataru created for Alphinaud thrilled her.
She wanted to hop on the next airship to U’ldah, then considered. No, charging in blade drawn would do little but provide this scurrilous rumor strength. No, she considered, pulling out a sheet of paper. It would be well wiser to fight whispers in their own arena.
“Dearest Thancred, I need a favor...”
Our report this month comes in from a reporter at our sister paper, The Wind and The Wall, who came to visit with a shipment of the finest Ishgardian candied cloudfish! The word on the stones is that the hero has been seen repeatedly in the private presence of not one, but two different military men of the city, often meeting privately behind closed doors at all bells. One of the men is a long-established independent force in the fight against the massive beasts that historically threatened that fair city, and the other is none other than the face of the newly established republican government! The reporter told us personally that both gentlemen individually visited the Warrior of Light’s private rooms when he was recuperating from a noble injury. Such dedication can only be the sign of a deep seated feeling. One wonders if our hero is awaiting to see which emerges dominant. Time will tell which suitor emerges victorious from the eventual fight...
The one pleasure in which Aymeric indulges in the morning is a dash of rich birch syrup in his tea, ever so subtly adding flavor to the necessary tool to get through the interminable meetings. Which made it unfortunate that his erstwhile partner knocked it over when he slapped down a paper and pinned it to the table with a lance head. He sighed.
“Something has upset thee, I see?”
“Just read it.”
“I would, dear Estinien, save that you have skewered it as one would a dragonfly.”
Estinien ripped the metal out of the table and slammed the paper back down, last page facing up. “Read what drivel this dustborn rag dares to spread about you. About us. About the Warrior of Light.”
Aymeric skimmed through the page, noting what was and wasn’t unsaid. “And this vexes you? Worse is whispered in the Brume daily. Never you mind what the Lords used to say of me or, yes, you, my sharp friend, during their private fetes. And it is not as if a word is untrue, of themselves.”
“You accept such slander so peaceably?” He started pacing between the door and the table. “Not only about us, but about the Warrior of Light, who has done so much for this city and our fight? And yes, for mediating between us?”
“Again, I say. This is nothing. Consult Lucia, as she is full aware of the whispers about us.”
Estinien froze, and turned slowly. “You have your commander collecting whispers? About ‘us’?”
“It will not hurt to know when the truth emerges from the side streets into the House of Lords.” Aymeric looked straight into his eyes. “If we are to keep everything we’ve built, both in the city and in this room, from falling back into the chasm, we must have a plan. And you, my friend, are a dedicated fighter for the needs of the city, but you are as subtle as the Lady’s Northern Breath when you pass through. Your visits, as much as I appreciate them, are not unnoticed by those who observe this city’s powerful.”
“But what of our friend’s reputation?” Estinien strode over, leaning against the table next to Aymeric.
Aymeric leaned forward, resting a hand on Estinien’s hand. “As frequently as he is wont to sacrifice himself on behalf of others, I cannot imagine they mind the harmless gossip, as it allows us peace to be ourselves for the while. Peace, Estinien: there are more worthy enemies to tilt at. I would have you stay for a day or two. Will thou?”
Alas, our loyal readers, we have no report for your hungry minds about our favorite hero these last few months! As a connoisseur of the glittering web of the aethernet network, it is difficult at the best of times to follow Warrior of Light’s travels. But they haven’t been seen in any of their usual haunts in Eorzea or Othard for weeks, nor have many of their usual companions! And the Scions, when asked, are completely hush on the matter! We have heard rumors from normally reliable sources that our hero has travelled to another world. While we here at The Raven are the last to scoff at our favorite hero’s incredible tales, having witnessed not a few ourselves, this is where we must, as responsible journalists, draw the line. We will update you with the accurate and reliable information this esteemed paper is known for as soon as we are able. Be sure to see your local crier for next moon’s paper!
G’raha set the basket of sandwiches on the table set up on the Crystarium overlook. It was their weekly tradition, his and the Warrior of Darkness’s, where they could be together, apart from the stress of the Tower and the city and the rest of Norvrandt. He noted a stack of papers on the table, printed in a script he hadn’t read in a hundred years.
“The Raven, Page Fourteen? My dearest, what are these?”
He felt the Warrior come up behind him, wrapping strong arms around him. “Oh, have I a story for you. It seems that my romantic exploits are the stuff of legend, back on the Source...”