Costa Del Sol, a grand scale pier settlement that resided on the coasts of Bloodshore. A thriving, economical tropical resort where Eorzeans with heavy coffers rested in pleasure. Azlyn felt like she had stepped into a resort, where the outside world didn’t seem to impact the community. She didn’t get too long to muse over the lay of the land, as K’lyhia started to walk down the well-maintained pier.

“You can see the Aetheryte stationed in the center of Costa Del Sol. Go ahead and attune to it. While you do that, I shall start setting our plan into motion. Your first point of contact is Rhytzirn. He will be your first objective. See you soon Azlyn.” The pink haired Miqo’te waved to her, and darted off on her own.

With a short window of opportunity to them, it was no wonder the girl was hurrying to get the gears rolling. Azlyn did as she was instructed, first heading to the crystal at the center of town. She could see an expansive coast full of sand going both north and south, and when she looked up the large cascading waterfall in the far north, she could see the large Garlean compound with it’s glowing red beacons. Everyone in Costa Del Sol seemed busy with their own small cliques to notice a lone Au Ra running through town, and even as she attuned to the crystal, no one seemed to notice her presence.

Taking a moment to enjoy the quiet, she decided to ask the outdoor barkeep just east of the crystal where she might find Rhytzirn.

“Good evening, would you happen to know where I can find a fisherman by the name of Rhytzirn?”

The barkeep, a roegabyn male dressed in a black and white tuxedo top pointed north. “He goes fishing up by the rocks over there. Should be there now.”

Azlyn nodded, “Thanks!”

She ran off the piers, into the white sands of the beach heading north. It was a bit hard to walk, as the sand wasn’t compacted and gave way with her footsteps. She edged closer to the waterline, hoping to have a better time not kicking the sand into her shoes. The last thing Azlyn wanted was sand stuck in all her clothing.

It only took five minutes traveling north when she came upon a lone fisher. He was casting a line into the ocean as she called out to him. “Good evening, are you Rhytzirn?”

“What is it lass, can’t ye see I’m busy castin’?”

Azlyn gave him a guilty look. “Sorry, I was informed by K’lyhia to meet you. I’m with Mealvaan’s Gate.”

He gave a slow nod, his voice drew out his first word from his lips. “Right.” He leaned back, checking his pile of caught fish. Slowly, he pulled out a herring. “I’ve been told to expect ye. ‘ere, yer to take one o’ me ‘errings and deliver it to the cook, Opylona.”

With a big, fat herring in her arms she walked back to Costa Del Sol to deliver the fish. She arrived back on the piers, and the barkeep pointed to one of the cooks located on the pier nearest to him. “Opylona is over there.” The barkeep smiled to her, as he gave her a courteous nod.

Azlyn followed the instructions, knowing full well how the Arcanists work. Fetch quests, delivering goods—it was all to achieve a certain end goal. The Au Ra figured it would help them in the long run against Doesmaga—even though it was a bit tedious.

She placed the Herring in front of the Roegabyn female cook. “One herring for Opylona.”

The cook brightened up at the sight. “Oh, Master Gegeruju does enjoy a bite of broiled fish of an evening. This might even earn me a few extra coins for this week’s wages!” Opylona reached behind her and brought a nicely cooked pie, passing it over to Azlyn. “Well, you have earned yourself one of my homemade eel pies! I should tell you though your arcanist colleague was quite insistent that you take the pie to Master Gegeruju, rather than scoff it down yourself.” She smiled. “He’s lounging at the farthest circular pier. You will know exactly who he is when you see him.”

Azlyn felt like she’d been sideswiped by a steady course of tasks, having moved from one location to the next in a fast rotation. With no other clues, the Au Ra picked up the pie and walked down the pier Opylona pointed to. She could see several guards posted from the Maelstrom, talking amongst themselves by the western side of the large canopy roof. She walked around the large wooden pillar supporting the pier to find a well dressed Lalafellin lounging as Opylona directed.

She had to admit, it was quite easy to tell who he was—with all his dangling gold jewelry and rings. His attire was a simple white suit, and an open shirt, two Miqo’te girls were fanning his bronzed face with green leaves. Her footsteps on the wood alerted the three to her presence, and she awkwardly stood there.

“And what brings someone like you to my—and I use the term facetiously—humble abode, dear madam?” The Lalafellin male opened one eye, his green iris observed her keenly.

“I brought a homemade eel pie.” Azlyn announced, holding up the offering with an awkward smile.

“What a lovely—no heavenly aroma from that homemade eel pie.” He gestured to the two girls to stop fanning him, as he brought himself up to a sitting position. “How commendable that you should research the delicacies that tickle my fancy before daring to intrude upon my most ponderous of ponderings. Speaking of ponderous—well I was speaking of it, at least. I have a hefty purse of gil to persuade you to relinquish your claim on that pastry…”

Azlyn just handed it to him. “Here. Just take it.” She was already tired of the pompous way he spoke. She was about to head out when one of the Miqo’te servants with Master Gegeruju stopped her.

“One moment please.” She stepped forward with a curt bow. “I have been instructed by a Mealvaan’s Gate Assessor to hand over this message to whoever delivers an eel pie to Master Gegeruju.”

The Au Ra crossed her arms over her chest. Did K’lyhia really have to send her to do all of this before taking on Doesmaga? “What is the message?”

Master Gegeruju handed her a bag of coins, much to her distress, and the servant smiled passing her a slip of paper. Azlyn opened it with care, reading it to herself.

Take the purse you received from Master Gegeruju, and hand it over to the dancer Ealdgyth as she prepares to return home. K’lyhia.

She was under the sneaking suspicion that she couldn’t speak of this aloud, since the Master of this humble abode might think otherwise. The Miqo’te servant with black short hair gestured with a quick head nod to the pier on the westside.

“…My thanks.” Azlyn bowed, leaving just as Master Gegeruju asked one of the younger girls to cut the pie for him.

“You can find her over there.” The Miqo’te servant to Master Gegeruju pointed over to a small hut on another piece of the wooden deck. Azlyn gave a cut nod, following the bread crumb trail with little choice left to her.

She walked with purpose, hearing the lapping of waves hit the wooden pylons beneath the deck, the swirl of the current and the caw of the seagulls kept her company as she went. There was a Hyur woman cleaning up, her clothes had been simple, with a long skirt, apron, and ornate blouse. Her light brown hair pulled into a high, voluminous ponytail that ran down her back.

“Ealdgyth?” Azlyn called out to the woman with a strange feeling K’yhlia had quite a bit of preparation made for their operation. Would this help against Doesmaga? The Au Ra would have to wait and see the end results—but if the young Assessor was like their eccentric guildmaster, this too would all be part of the necessary groundwork for ending Doesmaga’s reign of terror in Limsa Lominsa.

“Yes, that is I. If you have business with me, speak fast. I have three children to feed—” Her eyes lowered to the coin purse now being offered to her, as her voice died in her throat. She grabbed the coin purse from her hands with a curious look. “Oh my… that is quite a purse. My precious darlings will eat like kings this week!”

When Azlyn had confirmed this was the dancer she needed to find, she was more than willing to part with the bag. “Was there anything that I need to know?” She was hoping what K’lyhia had informed this woman to tell her would remember that part instead of fantasizing what to buy with her new found wealth.

The dancer smiled, producing a set of items for her. “I was told to expect you—a simple job as well. In return for the coin, I was to give these to you.” Azlyn stared down at the leather satchel and an item known only as a pareo. As if on cue, the woman started to explain who would get each item and where to find them. “Your Miqo’te friend will have the leather satchel—the pareo will be delivered to Drogo, the warehouse foreman. He’s located on that side of the beach.” She then pointed out to the sandy lot where a few lone wooden plots were stationed, one of them had several boxes of cargo and a warehouse-like building nearby.

Azlyn nodded to her, accepting this new trail and followed it. She walked off the piers, into the beach sand. She made her way slowly, and with care given she really didn’t want to wring out the sand from her clothes and boots later. Since everything was fairly close to one another in Costa Del Sol, it took no time to find Drogo working on a few boxes of inventory. He scanned his ledgers as she approached him from the front of the building.

“Evening.” Azlyn introduced herself. “I’m Azlyn. I was told to deliver this to you.” She then produced the pareo that Ealdgyth had previously given to her. Although she was feeling tired of these fetch and delivery quests. If she had to do one more—Her thoughts were interrupted as the foreman frowned to her.

“Hm? Got summat fer me, ye say?” The one known as Drogo gave her a surprised glance when he saw the well-worn draped fabric in her arms. “’Ey now. Ain’t this Ealdgyth’s pareo?! That Miqo’te lass said someone’d be bringin’ me a gift what I couldn’t refuse, an’ stick me with a pitchfork if she weren’t tellin’ the god’s own truth. ‘Ere, yer s’posed to ‘ave this bottle of wine.”

She gave him a soured expression.

“What don’t like wine?” The man draped the pareo over his shoulder as soon as he could. He looked elated while Azlyn gave a slow shake of her head.

“No—it’s nothing.” She sighed, before stowing the bottle in her satchel. “Did the Miqo’te lass tell you what I should do with the wine?”

He smacked a hand to his ledger. “Tha’s right! S’posed to tell ya yer s’pose to take it to the Flyin’ Shark, an’ pour a cup fer the sailors what’re drinkin’ there. I’d watch me back if I was you, though, them sailors’re the meanest bunch o’ cutthroats I ever did see.” He the gestured back to the main plaza where a bunch of people were drinking and hollering for me.

She had past them in her earlier treks around Costa Del Sol but paid them no mind. “I’ve partied with similar folk before.” Or at least what she could remember. There were some nights in Limsa Lominsa that she blacked out drunk due to the hooting and hollering of the pirates. If it weren’t for Baderon watching her back during those few times, she’d have been in a worse predicament.

Drogo didn’t seem to care as his attention had been turned to the Pareo draped around his arm.

Figuring the man was a lost cause, she decided to head over to the rowdy bar scene to pour the biggest, tallest, guy there was a drink from the wine. Azlyn hoped this would be worth it. Not like she had any choice now that she was neck deep in the plot. “I hope I don’t wind up like them with all these roundabout ways to make a possibility into a certainty.” She bemoaned to herself, and finally walked up the steps into the lively bar. The tiki lights had been lit with fire by the time she arrived, giving the area a resort-like feel.

Following her thought process from before, she approached one of the tallest, buffest sailors sitting at the bar. She pulled out her bottle of wine, a glimpse of a smile on her lips. “Would you care for a drink of my wine, sailor?”

The Roegabyn male finished drinking his ale, before turning to look down at her. Given his height, he was still two heads taller than her sitting down. “Ye want me to taste yer wine, eh? Well, now, I ain’t on to pass up a free grog.” He motioned for one of his buddies to free up the seat next to him. The lad, a well tanned hyur with his hair held back under his bandana relinquished his seat, and offered the chair to her with a devil of a smirk.

“Fer the lass.”

She didn’t give him much room to tease her, as she immediately went to the seat and sat next to the Roegabyn. She then gestured to the barkeep for a new set of glassware. The barkeep smiled to her, already pulling out a fresh set of glasses for her to start pouring.

“Sophisticated, ain’t she?” The Hyur hung on the back of her chair. One of his hands trailed some of her loose curls on the back of her hair. She had to resist the urge as a shiver ran down her spine.

She ignored his jibe and passed the glass over to him slowly. “Enjoy.” She straightened in her chair so that she was not leaning up against the back, just so she wouldn’t encourage the sailor behind her to do something that would wind up with him having a broken wrist.

The Hyur laid his arms against the back of the chair, clearing not enjoying the fact he was being ignored. “How’s it taste?”

The man finished the cup with ease, wiping his lips with his forearm. “Llymlaen’s teats! Now that’s a bloody fine drop! If we ship this stuff to the East, we’ll be sellin’ bottles by the crates.” This surprised all the sailors surrounding him. Azlyn, meanwhile, was unfazed. She had a feeling it would work out—as all things did whenever K’lyhia was involved. She let her face relax as she tapped the bar with one of her fingers.

He looked to her now, his expression changing into one of avarice. He gave her a quick glance up and down. The Hyur behind her reached out a hand to clench her forearm. “Yer comin’ with us back to the Morningstar. The captain’ll want to ‘ave a word with ye.”

Azlyn caught to name of the ship, and now understood why K’lyhia made her run all those ridiculous errands. It was for this one moment. The barkeep gave her a worried glance, but she tapped the counter as calmly as ever. “If that’s how it is, I suppose I must. Lead the way.”

The group of sailors chuckled darkly, gathering their belongings and moving out. She was being tightly held by the Hyur male, and she had to adjust to get him to loosen up. “Mind not damaging the precious cargo.” The Roegabyn told the Hyur when they were further away from the barkeep.

Azlyn narrowed her eyes to the Hyur holding her arm, however he merely loosened his grip.

“There’s a good lass. An’ as fer ye, Miss Dancer, ye stick close to ol’ Hirskskrat—it gets damn cold on them long sea voyages.” He chuckled creepily as a familiar looking Miqo’te lass with pink hair approached his side.

She was wearing a scantily dressed attire, but something that most of the beach dancers were accustomed to wearing. Azlyn quirked an eye to her, and then softened her expression when she got the feeling this was all apart of the plan. Together they all marched off to the dock where they took several rowboats back to a ship far off in the distance—Azlyn sat next to K’lyhia as the men rowed.

The Roegabyn guffawed at the front. His leer turned over to the two of them with the wine. “Ah, fine grog an’ a fine woman…two fine women. The captain’ll be pleased with this haul.” The others on the boat laughed, joking amongst themselves and hollering. Their raucous noise gave the two girls a moment to talk.

“All that running around.” Azlyn quietly whispered to her, and then stared at the Miqo’te’s attire. “You look nice.”

Azlyn could feel K’lyhia’s hand hidden by hers, the slight quiver made Azlyn nonchalantly reach her hand down to cup the girl’s hand. She reaffirmed to her that she wasn’t alone with this small action, and K’lyhia gave a ghost of a smile.

“Pray do not stare so. This was the most expedient method of gaining access to the ship.” K’lyhia looked up to her expectantly. Without being asked for it, Azlyn merely pulled the secondary satchel she received from Ealdgyth and passed it over to the girl.

K’lyhia started to rummage through the satchel, pulling out a familiar set of arcanist clothes and a brown robe. Azlyn started to stand up and stretch to cover K’lyhia who quickly changed her attire behind her. When she was finished, she then handed the satchel back with the dancer attire to her. K’lyhia also put on a hooded cloak, covering her Assessor attire.

The movements that Azlyn had made at the back of the small ship must have caught the eye of their generous host, as he stopped his rowing to look at the two of them. Hirskskrat narrowed his eyes. “’Ey, what mischief are you two about?” The group of rowdy men buckled down, before Azlyn smiled sweetly. 

“Nothing sir. She was cold from the ocean breeze.” She moved out of the line of sight so K’lyhia could be seen with her brown hooded cloak. The Miqo’te convincingly rubbed one of her arms. 

K’lyhia spoke alluringly. “You wouldn’t wish me to catch a chill, now would you sir?”

With the two of them sweetly talking with him, the other men shrugged their shoulders. They didn’t seem bothered by what had just transpired. Hirskskrat chuckled darkly. “Ye’ll be dancing yerself warm once we get ye on the ship, lass.”

The rest of the voyage to the Morningstar had been a quiet one for the two girls, as they watched and silently waited for their rowboat to arrive. When at last they were onboard, the two of them were assisted on with little to no difficulty.

“Ye better slip off that ratty robe afore ye meet the captain.” The Roegabyn commanded her, halfway around the main deck.

K’lyhia laughed off his concern. “Of course, of course.”

They were told to stay behind Hirskskrat as they walked the main deck over to a group of sailors—no pirates drinking grog. Azlyn caught sight of the familiar red-haired Captain with his giant axe at his side. She stayed in line with K’lyhia just in case the Miqo’te needed any reassurances.

The Hyur working alongside Hirskskrat darkly chuckled, walking in front of the two of them while the other went on ahead. Azlyn didn’t have much chance to anticipate the next series of action unfold as K’lyhia drop kicked the Hyur. The force of her kick sent him to his knees as she confidently stood. The groan of pain caught all of their attention as K’lyhia revealed herself to them.

“I’ll be happy to show him the perform that awaits!” She grabbed her pair of bi-focals from her pocket and placed them on the bridge of her nose.

Azlyn brought forth her book the same time K’lyhia had, and the two of them watched as all of the pirates on the Morningstar drew their weapons. Doesmaga gave the pair of them a jubilant expression, as his one eye regarded them. He stood up from his perch on the deck to point. “The bitch Admiral’s lapdog, come back fer that lesson, ‘ave ye?” He then regarded Azlyn. “An’ brought the wee princess with ye. Oh—we’re gonna ‘ave fun tonight.” He grabbed his large axe, brandishing it to his side.

K’lyhia raised her arm up to the sky, a finger pointed to the now darkened skies of Limsa Lominsa where the stars shone brightly even when the clouds were present. “It is I who shall be teaching this night! My lecture will focus on the manipulation of reality through applied strategy!”

The Au Ra drew the basic emerald pattern summoning her carbuncle to her side. Meanwhile the foreseer of Mealvaan’s Gate summoned forth a large circle of magic aether that seemed to wrap and soothe the two of them. Azlyn saw K’lyhia summon her book from up above her as it floated to her side.

Doesmaga spat the last remnants of his drink, glaring at them. “Enough o’ this damn yappin’! By the time I’m done with ye, ye’ll remember who yer real master is!” He gave his command to attack, and all his sailors abroad charged them.

Azlyn commanded her carbuncle to start slamming each of them with a wide array of area effective attacks, and blasted some backwards and off the ship. She heard the splashing of the water below. K’lyhia started to channel her energy into the magic circle she summoned.

“Azlyn, this geometry will turn the tide of this battle!”

She nodded. “I understand.” She chuckled before sending several blasts of ruin patterns out in a systematic approach, blasting any of the pirates that got too close. The two of them were dispatching the groups of pirates with ease, sending the groups off in batches with heavy wind strikes. The screaming and yelling of the sailors brought more from below deck, which caused the two of them to split up and try to send them flying in smaller groups.

Doesmaga called out to them in fury. “Fight, ye worthless sea slugs! I oughta keelhaul the lot o’ ye!”

The two Arcanists worked in tandem, delivering blow upon blow until most—if not all—who had arrived to fight them had been haphazardly thrown in the ocean below. Azlyn turned her attention to the remaining duo, Doesmaga and Hirskskrat.

“Ye rabid little curs!” Doesmaga yelled to them.

Azlyn smirked, stepping forward with K’lyhia giving her the command to do so. Confidently they approached, books in hand.

“Our numbers matter not, it is strategy that will win this battle!” K’lyhia raised her free hand up to point to Doesmaga. Azlyn could already see a change in the foreseer from their previous encounter. What had been a meek, and terrified Miqo’te had now been a strong, unshaken Foreseer of Mealvaan’s Gate. “Prepare yourself, Doesmaga! With your defeat will I cast off the shackles you closed on my soul!”

Azlyn brought forth her topaz carbuncle, preparing for a defensive maneuver.

“Ye think so, eh? Think yer fancy magicks’re a match fer my blade?!  Ye’ve got another thing comin’!” He charged forward, with Hirskskrat at his side. Azlyn took on Hirskskrat with her carbcuncle while K’lyhia yelled to Doesmaga.

She fired back. “Your brutalized crew is not up to the task, Doesmaga! I calculate our odds of victory at 99%!”

Doesmaga deftly swung his axe wide, to which K’lyhia danced blithely out of its range. She was keeping him a fair distance from her as she casted several quick spells. Azlyn started hitting them all with several bios and miasmas to drain their strength, and then she started to attack them with her own offensive line up. Her topaz carbuncle had been able to knock Hirskskrat off by herding him off to the side. When he was pinned with his back to the rail did her carbuncle jump to headbutt him in the sternum. The force caused the Roegabyn to fall backward and into the ocean below.

Azlyn turned her attention to Doesmaga, using all her arcane focus now to deal with his forceful tactics. K’lyhia had been doing well against him, using the ship’s placement of the masts, stairs, and rails to her advantage.

“Hmph. So you can handle a few deck scrags. Me axe’ll carve yer petty plans into bloody ruin!” Doesmaga charged forth, his axe raised over his shoulder. He would have swung it down straight at K’lyhia but Azlyn had snapped several quick spells of her ruin spells at the back of his head.

As he staggered from the double magick strikes, K’lyhia commanded her topaz carbuncle to tackle him square in the side. And with a final pattern from her book, she yelled loudly. “By order of Mealvaan’s Gate, I hereby place you under arrest!”

Her spell fired off, hitting him dead on in the face, Azlyn held a breath as he dropped his axe to grab his face. She could see the droplets of blood pouring from his face before his legs gave out from underneath him. The loud crash of his body falling to the deck resounded, only for him to struggle to get back up. He began to glare.

“Doesmaga now faces defeat. He will flee to the starboard rail.” K’lyhia predicted with the utmost accuracy as he started to do as she said. Azlyn went to chase after, only for K’lyhia to grab her by the sleeve. “Obvious. Next comes his attempt to escape into the sea.”

The man stopped at the rail, barking to them. The blood marred his lower jaw and red beard. “Ye think yer pullin’ me strings, do ye? Think I’ll dance in yer tune?” He jumped up on top of the rail, as he turned back to look at them. His eye focused on them with ill intent. “Well I ain’t fallin’ fer yer bloody tricks!” And proceeded to jump into the ocean.

Azlyn watched in amusement as K’lyhia calmly walked over to the starboard side. From the side she could already see the ships of Yellow Jackets already apprehending Doesmaga as he struggled. K’lyhia crossed her arms with a small smile on her lips. “It is at this moment he notices the Yellow Jackets I had you summon in my explicit instructions to Rhytzirn.”

The Au Ra leaned both of her arms on the rail watching the comical scene below. Admist the battle when she was shoving people off the sides, she’d noticed them approaching. “The fetch quests were worth it.”

K’lyhia tutted to her. “Never doubt an arcanist’s plan.”

“Doubly noted.” Azlyn smirked, seeing Rhytzirn shackling Doesmaga. He was still wearing that fisherman’s hat that he had on while he was pretend fishing. “What’d you know. Shackles suit him.”

The Foreseer of Mealvaan’s Gate nodded. “He was a fool to return to Limsa Lominsan seas. Now the Admiral will take care of him.” And then she released a long sigh of relief. “Thank you Azlyn. Truly. The strategy would not have succeeded without your flawless execution.”

She smiled to her. “We make a pretty good team—I say our compatibility is 95.4%.”

“Now you’re just pulling numbers.” The Miqo’te laughed at her. “It’s more like 100% compatible.” She then reached out a clenched fist to her, and Azlyn met it with her own fist. They bumped knuckles before waving to the Yellow Jackets below. “This concludes today’s lecture.”

“I learned quite a bit.” Azlyn chuckled, as she looked to the massive ship that the Yellow Jacket’s would commandeer back to port.

K’lyhia looked down to her book with a bit of wonder. “I think that my tactics yet require more work. One must allow for some small deviation in performance.” She then turned to Azlyn, a small smile on her face. “I think I can understand where my calculations went awry. It is not enough to wish to shape reality, but one must also have a complete understanding of the reality one wishes to obtain.”

Azlyn agreed. “In that regard, we both have much to learn.”

The two girls chuckled amongst themselves. It was then that K’lyhia pledged. “It is time for me to seek out our guildmaster. It’s been fun Azlyn.” She gave a small wave, and Azlyn watched in amazement as the Miqo’te dashed off to the opposite side of the front bow. It didn’t take long for her to use her cat-like reflexes to dive off the ship and overboard—which Azlyn darted across to see if she was okay. She hadn’t heard the splash of water below, which meant that she probably landed on a boat waiting.

Azlyn leaned over the rail to look over, and saw the dancer Ealdgyth at the back of the small boat steering it away. The Au Ra leaned both her arms on the rail once more to see K’lyhia waving up to her. Such an impeccable exit for a Miqo’te following the same path as their eccentric guildmaster.

“Pray convey to Mistress Thubyrgeim my fondest wishes, and my appreciation for all that she has done for me.”

Azlyn shouted down to her. “I will!”

The Foreseer of Mealvaan’s Gate smiled up. “Good. Now the true test of my strategies begins.” The dancer from Costa Del Sol sailed off with her in tow, leaving Azlyn alone on the massive Morningstar. The night had started to slowly change landscape, as the soft glow of the sunrise eclipsed the horizon. Azlyn watched with admiration and comfort knowing that the Assessor would be just fine.

She decided to see the operation until its end, where the Yellow Jackets came abroad and made the long trek back to Limsa Lominsa. Azlyn relaxed alongside the rail, letting the ocean wind sweep through her hair. An hour’s voyage, but well worth the time spent. Soon she’d be able to rest in her room.

When they arrived in the City-State proper, she was escorted off and brought over to make a quick report. She made sure to record all the information that they needed and was then released. Since she was by the Fishermen’s guild of Limsa Lominsa, she walked to the aetheryte next to their building and thought of the crystal closest to Mealvaan’s Gate. The flow of aether took her, and she was whisked away in the morning activity. She could see the halls in the Lower deck were abuzz with life, as new and old adventurers travelled between Hawker’s Alley and the junction where fishers could line up to board the ocean expenditure.

Instead of going with the crowds, Azlyn went straight into the guild where Interim Guildmaster Thubyrgeim waited for her. She had been reading one of her many books by her favorite bookshelf when Azlyn arrived.

“Welcome back Azlyn.” Thubyrgeim closed her book with a warm smile. “There is much I would ask you, but first, may I have the satchel you received during your assignment?”

The girl reached into her bag, pulling out the requested item for the guildmaster. She had a funny feeling that she wouldn’t be able to just call in like last time to report. “K’lyhia decided to search for the Guildmaster. She said ‘give my fondest wishes to Mistress Thubyrgeim for me.’” She supposed her feeling was right as the interim Guildmaster smiled at her report. 

“It comes as no surprise, but I’m thankful for your assistance.” Mistress Thubyrgeim nodded, and opened the satchel to check inside. “And the original owner will need her costume back. I’ll make sure everything is returned safe and sound.”

Azlyn smiled. “And it comes around full circle.” She then crossed her arms as she regarded Thubyrgeim.

“Indeed it does. I am glad to know that K’lyhia has also freed herself to pursue her heart’s desire. And you are to thank for awakening the foreseer to her self-imposed fetters.” Interim Guildmaster Thubyrgeim adjusted her monocle upon her visage with care. “The brilliance of K’lyhia’s strategies served to blind her own feelings, and it pained me to see her suffer so.”

“But she persevered.” Azlyn smiled, looking to the door and wondering how far that girl would travel until she would find the elusive guildmaster. “And she’ll only grow more from here.”

Thubyrgeim nodded, agreeing with her assessment. “Your example will encourage K’lyhia to improve in her combat abilities, although such will surely come in time—after all, she intends to study under the guildmaster’s direct instruction. Imagine those two obsessive arcanists, and the complexity of the tactics they will develop.”

“I shudder to think of the possibilities.” Azlyn could imagine the overdrawn-out fetch quests and silly dancing continue in her future. The possibility worried her. 

“It may very well be that your actions in bringing them together will prove the catalyst that sparks a new era of invention in the art of arcanima. I hope that eases your worries when you think of it in this regard.” The interim guildmaster smiled to her with a knowing look. “You too should look to the improvement of your discipline if you are to keep pace with all that is certain to follow. To that end, I offer you a new technique. One that allows you to effect a wide swath of the battlefield and drain the life force of your foes.”

They spent an hour going over the combat magic, and before long Azlyn learned and memorized the brand-new spell. She could easily employ it after she cast her dampening spell on her enemies, and group them together to cause cataclysmic, festering damage. Not just to one enemy—but all of them. It was well worth the long night and lack of sleep.

“Thank you Mistress Thubyrgeim. I will use it wisely.” She bowed to her, and decided it was time to get some well deserved rest. Tomorrow would be the day she’d approach the investigation for the Ascians once more.