Life on the Isle of Val wasn’t so bad. For the next three years Azlyn found herself with more and more chores to do while her parents worked at the archives. There were also times when several of the scholars would come to her and teach her something cool or exciting.

She watched many different things—from magic to cool aether tricks. She never realized how fun it could be seeing all the amazing skills the scholars possessed.

“I want to learn magic too!”

One of the scholars chuckled at her exuberance. “If you have the aptitude for it, you’ll be able to do it someday. Maybe when you’re older.”

Azlyn pouted her lips. “I want to learn it now.”

“You must needs ask your parents to show you how.”

She wondered if they would, after all they were incredibly busy.

Someone cleared their throat causing the girl to jump.

“We need some assistance in the study rooms.” The scholar waved goodbye to her as he retreated to the summons.

“And then there was one…” Azlyn mumbled to herself. She hopped off her chair to walk down several of the bookshelves. Her destination had been a bookshelf where the children’s stories were. She knelt to the ground, plucking a few fairy tales from the spots.

She’d been good at reading, but the pictures did help in her understanding of the content. She flipped open the cover to the first page to read to herself. Azlyn took her time, studying words that were unfamiliar to her. She did her best to sound them out as her parents taught her, and she tried to say them aloud. Sometimes she understood what the words meant when she spoke them, but often she found herself having to ask her parents what it meant during dinner.

“Ah, Azlyn—what a perfect opportunity.” An older Midlander Hyur man—well, Azlyn considered him older because he was a bit older than her parents—with dark brown hair chuckled into his hand. “Do you remember me?”

She met quite a few scholars during her times in the archives, but she wasn’t good at remembering names. She tilted her head trying to think hard.

Nope. Nothing came to her.

“uh… umm… someone… someone important?” She prayed it would be a decent answer.

The Midlander Hyur guffawed. Apparently her answer was funny to him. “I daresay not. I am Archon Galuf Baldesion. I work closely with your father—and sometimes your mother will help my circle.”

Azlyn recognized the name as he introduced himself. He was someone important, but Azlyn didn’t really pay attention to what her father spoke about him. She just remembered that he gave her dad lots of reading stuff to read. “Oh yeah—dad talks about you all the time back home. He likes the books you read.”

This answer seemed to please the Hyuran. “Azlyn, do you know that I have an orphanage here on the Isle of Val?”

She’d heard the word orphanage before, but she didn’t know what it meant. She recalled her mother mentioned it before to her father—but Azlyn didn’t really pay attention to it. The only reason she kept to herself now was so that she wouldn’t trouble her parents.

“What’s an orphanage?” She still asked anyway. She thought questions were something to be answered.

“It’s a place where children go when they lose their families—and instead they grow up together until a new family takes them in.”

Azlyn blinked several times. There was a place like that on this island? “I didn’t know this place had an orphanage.”

“It’s been running for a few years, fairly recent.” Archon Galuf nodded, “But I have someone there who would benefit having a friend their age—he’s a bit shy, but he loves to read. You like to read, don’t you?”

She considered his question carefully, as she didn’t know if this would be soon turned to homework. “I do…?” She slowly drawled out.

“Come with me.” He beckoned her to follow him out of the archives. Nervously, she looked to the pile of books she pulled out from the bookshelves.

“What about the books I pulled?”

The Archon smiled warmly, “I’ll have someone put them away, come—I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

She had been caught in his flow of words and actions, that she wound up leaving the books in a pile for someone else to take care of. Together, she walked with the Archon through the grand plaza of the Isle of Val, and over to a separate building on the opposite side.

The front of the building had white walls, and large ornate glass at the top. She couldn’t really take the whole place in as she was whisked inside almost immediately. She could see some children playing around with a few toys, some were drawing at some tables, but she was directed further into the building.

Curious, she followed closely behind the Archon before they stopped in front of a door. He knocked once, before opening and walking inside. She entered right behind her, looking to the quiet space. She could see it was a bedroom—one devoid of personal belongings. There had been a bed, alongside a work desk, and a rug on the ground. Other than those furnishings, she didn’t see anything of personal value. There was a Miqo’te boy sitting with his back to the wall, his nose was buried deep in a book, ignoring their entry.

Her room back home had been cluttered with miscellaneous items from hay dolls to different pictures books.

The Archon turned to her, kneeling to her level. “I’d like for you to befriend him. Can you do that for me?”

She blinked and leaned her head to the side to peer over the Hyuran’s shoulder. She could still see the red-haired boy completely ignoring them.

“I’ll try?” She answered in an unsure way.

She felt the Archon clap her shoulders with both his hands excitedly. “Most excellent. I can’t wait to hear the great news. I best be getting back to work. Have fun!”

Azlyn watched as the Archon immediately disappeared as quickly as he stepped in. She stared at the open door. She wondered why none of the other children at the orphanage had befriended him—he seemed normal. At least from looking.

She awkwardly turned back to the boy—to still see his nose stuck to the tome in his hands. She could see his red tail, the furry appendage thump slowly beside him. She walked to the table, again, she didn’t know what to do. The last time she’d played with someone was her cousin—and that was when she was younger.

Plus, Roll was a girl. She had no clue on what boys liked.

The room remained silent. Azlyn rocked on her heels to her toes, wondering if he’d attempt to introduce himself. She inwardly sighed, why didn’t the Archon bother to introduce them? Did he just forget?

She would never know.

“So…” Azlyn broke the silence at last. “Hi. I’m Azlyn.”

She never got an answer back.

She waited for a good solid minute, wondering if maybe he was just absorbed in the book he was reading. Sometimes she’d seen her dad get like that when he was really absorbed in his work. It would take her mom and her to literally tackle him to get him to respond.

Would she tackle this kid though?

No.

She’d just have to wait it out.

“Whatcha reading?”

She watched his mannerisms, seeing if he registered anything, she said to him. It seemed like he had heard her given his ears twitching at her question. Since it seemed apparent that he wouldn’t tell her what the book was about, she decided to peer at the front cover of the book.

She found the letters and words to be completely different from anything she learned. She blinked multiple times. Maybe he didn’t speak common—it seemed possible given the nature of the book he was reading. Maybe he just didn’t know what she was saying to him.

This didn’t deter her from stepping a bit closer. She stopped at the corner of the table though, to maintain decent ground. “What language is that? I don’t think I’ve seen or heard it before.”

She watched his ears, the red furry triangles twitch at the sound of her voice. At last she heard a vocal response from him—albeit a heavy sigh. She watched as he finally lowered the tome, closing it firmly into his hands. And she stared with wide eyes as she finally got a good look at his face.

He had long bangs that covered his eyes, but she could still see the different colored irises that were different colors. She spied the deep red, compared to the contrasted green color in the other.

She blinked several times.

“Go away.” He answered her at last.

And she had to take a moment to register what he just said. “Wait so you do understand me?” She asked at last, more offended to learn that he was openly ignoring her. “I thought you didn’t understand. That’s why I asked what language that was.” She pointed to the book.

“Are you dumb?” He refuted right back. “What part of ‘Go Away’, did you not understand?”

“I am not dumb!” Azlyn flared, surprising herself at the sudden burst of anger. “You’re rude!” She yelled back to him.

“And you’re annoying,”

“You’re mean!”

The boy rolled his eyes to her, before opening the book to ignore her once again. She felt her left eye twitch. “Fine—so what will it take for you to be my friend?!” She yelled this declaration out hoping to end this futile conversation. She had to try for the Archon’s sake.

“Who said I want to be friends with anyone?” He quipped, turning the page in his book. She could see his eyes scrolling the text.

“Well I don’t have a friend, so I’m asking you to be my friend!” She didn’t even know why she was getting angry in the first place. She should have just walked out and told the Archon sorry. The room filled with silence once more.

“The Archon put you up to it. I’m not buying it.” He finally answered.

She growled. “Fine, what do I need to do to be your friend?” She asked again, feeling the challenging tone rise in her voice.

He gave her an answer after some time to consider. He seemed to scoff to her. “I’m only friends with those who speak Ancient Allagan. Just give up.” He waved her attempts away.

However she flared at the conditions. “Ancient Allagan? Fine, I’ll learn it! I’ll come back tomorrow!” To which Azlyn stormed out of the room to run straight to the Archives. She didn’t know how long it would take for her to learn whatever Ancient Allagan was, but she wasn’t going to be deterred.

When she ran inside, she found the head librarian had been at the welcome desk. She looked up to the Elezen woman before using her best indoor voice possible. “I’d like books that teach about Ancient Allagan!”

The woman paused at the request. “I’m sorry?”

“Ancient Allagan! I want to learn it!” She placed her hands on the desk that was still at her head level. “Please!”

She seemed to accept her request, as the librarian led her to several bookshelves that she’d never gone to before. “If you wish to learn it, I suggest taking these books—” The woman plucked out four to five tomes of texts for her, “You’ll want basic letters and phonetics too.” She murmured, getting lost down the aisles.

Finally, Azlyn had her books, and she started focusing upon learning the letters. She grabbed out some scrap paper that her parents left her in case she wanted to draw, and she began practicing and writing each of the new letters. By the time her father was done with work, he had found Azlyn deep in her writing as she finished writing it for the umpteenth time.

“What’s all this?” Her father pulled out a chair to sit with her.

She huffed in annoyance. “There’s this boy who refuses to be friends unless I know Ancient Allagan. So I’m going to learn it.”

Her father blinked several times, before he looked down to the letters she meticulously practiced. “Would you like some help?”

Azlyn nodded, and her voice held a determined tone. “Yes please!”

And that was how she and her father remained, stuck in the archives until most of the evening going over all the letters, sounds, and elementary basics that she could take. She couldn’t remember eating dinner that night, but she did remember passing out on her futon before cleaning up.

When she woke the next morning, she groggily brought herself up from the floor to clean up and headed back to the archives with her parents. Both her mom and dad watched as she went back to her studying, fixating on the books laid out on the desk.

“Have a good day Azlyn.” Her mother called out to her, and the young girl paused long enough to raise a hand to wave goodbye. Then she went back to studying.

She studied for a few hours, before she cleaned up her space, returned the books to the archivists—and went straight to the orphanage. She remembered the path they had taken yesterday until she appeared at the front gates of the building. She could see several of the children playing outside. But her goal wasn’t them. It was the kid inside on the third floor.

Azlyn had her satchel with her, where she carried her favorite books from home and an empty notepad to draw in. One of the orphanage attendants recognized her from yesterday, waving to her.

She waved back before running up the stairs.

Once again, she found herself in front of the door to his room. She knocked once, because it was polite to introduce oneself to another’s room, and slowly opened the door. She announced herself. “Hi, it’s Azlyn again! I came to play!”

She peered inside to find the boy had changed seating locations. Instead of being on the bed, he opted to sit on the windowsill. One of his legs had been brought up to his chest, propping up a book that he held in his hand. Azlyn could tell he heard her come in, again, it was his ears that gave him away.

Still he chose to ignore her.

The room became silent, as she walked to his table and pulled out the chair quietly. Azlyn pulled out her own book to read.

Together the pair sat, the only sound in the room happened to be the occasional page flip but that was it. After she finished re-reading her book in his presence, she closed the book and stowed it back in her satchel. He still refused to move from the windowsill.

But today she noted that the book he held was a different one from yesterday. Perhaps he was a quick reader.

She went to place his chair back into its spot quietly, and then announced her leaving. “Bye. Thanks for playing!” Then she ran out of his room, closing the door softly on her way out.

Then she ran straight to the Archives to dive back into learning Ancient Allagan. She remained that way until both her parents were off work and offering to help her in her studies. 

This behavior continued into two solid months, where she had started to get the hang of an elementary understanding of the new language.

But it was affecting her usual way she spoke. Sometimes she would find herself speaking interchangeably, and she had to stop to think about what she wanted to say.

Despite her best efforts and visiting the boy every day, she had yet to learn his name. She learned quite a bit about him in her time of visiting though. He was an avid reader, one who enjoyed anything dealing with the Third Astral Era.

She started to pick up key words on the covers from time to time—something dealing with fables or legends—but she didn’t reveal her limited comprehension yet. No, she wanted to save that for a day when she could speak fluently. It’d probably take her a few more months of deep immersion, but she was determined to do it.

Her father had been extremely helpful in her studies, making the learning process slightly easier than her straight-forward approach that felt like she was bulldozing through the terms. 

Another month flew by, and she found herself studying more and more in the archives.

She was nose deep in one of the books, she focused on the illustrations to help her comprehension of the Ancient Allag letters that spoke of the red moon Dalamud. It had been written simply, telling about a war and dragons who were sealed within.

A screeching of the chair alerted her to another’s presence. She stopped in her reading to look up to see a strange sight before her. The young boy from the orphanage came out to her table—when had that kid ever leave his room? Azlyn had never seen him leave once.

He lowered his book a smidge, his eyes studying her. His ears twitched. “You were late.” He replied at last, before spying the book in her hands. “What’s that?”

Azlyn showed him the story, and then responded in her best Ancient Allagan. « A tale of dragons and Dalamud »

The kid seemed floored by her; his two-colored eyes widened like saucers. He lowered his book.

She returned to her own book, ignoring the stare he gave her. They sat in silence—she went to reading, while he observed her closely. As she flipped through the pages, she struggled with a word that she hadn’t known before. Azlyn pondered and drummed her fingers, staring at the text and trying to match it to the picture. All the picture gave her was a giant throne with a man sitting in it.

She had no clue what it meant.

Still, she tried to sound it out—practicing as she typically did—only she forgot about her present company. She paused in her reading and acknowledged the Miqo’te at her table. “What is this word?” She pointed to it, and the boy peered to the text.

“It’s a name.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “What does it say?”

“Emperor Xande.”

“Is that the guy on the throne?” She asked.

The boy nodded once.

Azlyn smiled brightly as she finally understood what it meant. “Thank you!”

Again, she was met with silence—but this time, the boy cleared his throat after a few long moments. “My name… it’s G’raha Tia.”

“Eh?”

“G’raha Tia. That’s my name.”

Azlyn closed her book, smiling once more to the boy. “I’m Azlyn!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I know—you kept telling me every day for the last three months.” He finally opened his book to pick up where he last left off. “I can’t believe you actually taught yourself Ancient Allagan.”

The girl returned his chuckle with her own, “I told you I wanted to be friends!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved her statement of declaration off. “I’m sorry for calling you dumb.”

She recalled their first meeting and remembered that she called him names too. “And I’m sorry for calling you mean and rude.”

The two looked to one another before grinning to one another. It wouldn’t be until later that evening when her parents returned from work to see the pair of them sitting side by side. He was translating aloud what he was reading to Azlyn so that she could understand.

“Who’s this?” Her father pulled out a chair to join them. Her mother mimicked him, sitting adjacent.

“This is G’raha Tia!” Azlyn announced happily. “We’re friends!”

The boy stared at her for her open declaration. Meanwhile her mother chuckled into her hand. “Ah, this is the young lad who wanted you to learn Ancient Allagan.”

Her father smiled to them both. “You two must be hungry, G’raha Tia, would you like to join us for dinner?”

The Miqo’te was surprised by the invitation, and before he could say no, Azlyn immediately volunteered him to join. Somehow he got swept up in her and her parent’s flow, and wound up with food in his belly. They played a few evening games; some were from their home country which the boy had no idea how to play.

After watching a few rounds, Azlyn’s father finally offered to walk the boy back to the orphanage.

“Bye G’raha Tia! See you tomorrow!”

The boy stopped walking, looking over his shoulder to the girl waving on the porch. He awkwardly waved back in goodbye. “See you tomorrow.”

She beamed happily, before her mother ushered her in to clean up for bed.