mare lamentorum

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxiv #prompt #endwalker #spoilers #wolgraha #stelmaria #graha #poppy #summoner

warnings: none

general: uhhhh. it’s not what you think it is lol.

noun

• the bed where a natural stream of water runs OR the deeper part of a river, harbor, or strait OR a strait or narrow sea between two close landmasses
• a means of communication or expression
• a way, course, or direction of thought or action
• a band of frequencies of sufficient width for a single radio or television communication

verb

• to form, cut, or wear a channel in OR to make a groove in
• to convey or direct into or through a channel
• to serve as a channeler or intermediary for

She swallows hard, every muscle tensing in anticipation as the pressure builds behind her eyes.

“Steady,” mutters Raha, lips slightly parted as if he can taste the heavy air.

He doesn’t touch her, but stands near enough she feels the heat of him on her skin.

A whimper catches in her throat, her knees press together and tremble as she fights to maintain focus on her task as a whirling maelstrom of power roars within.

Raha steps to the side, the sound of his boots and the cinnamon scent of him so distracting she almost loses control.

However the Warrior of Light is no stranger to unexpected interruption.

She holds fast against the storm and finishes the casting with a masterful stroke.

Stelmaria’s eyes flutter open. She utters a word of power, an empty structure wrought of theory, a skeleton framework of hope and desire, soon to be covered over by will manifested as magicked flesh—a vessel for the divine spark of inspiration to inhabit.

To experience both its own existence and that of all creation.

To live.

And to adventure.

The largest fragment of her shattered focus vanishes from her hand, accepted.

“You've done it! I knew you could. You should be proud, love.” G’raha folds her in a tight embrace, scattering kisses over her face and shoulders.

For him the exertions are over. The months upon months of study on esoteric topics first uncovered by ancient Allagan mages, only recently unearthed by Raha himself. Then he embarked upon the laborious work of translating these amorphous concepts into a theoretical foundation Stelmaria might then apply to real-world experimentation.

Stelmaria grins at her husband’s enthusiasm, but she has eyes only for the coalescing lump of gentle pink-tinted light nearby.

As it assumes the shape of its own choosing, she chews her lip, suddenly nervous about this first meeting between new acquaintances. What will she do if it dislikes being channeled into an incarnate form? Resents her earnest plea and her presence? Or Raha’s?

“Say hello,” he prompts.

“Hello.”

A vibration reaches across the infinite space between souls to probe her thoughts, tentative and sweet as though seeking permission.

She responds in kind with a filament of her own, gentle, slow—determined to have this first impression go well.

‘Mother?’ The creature hums, unsure. ‘Master.’

‘Stelmaria,’ she answers, thinking of herself as a concept. ‘G’raha,’ she continues, thinking of her companion.

‘Friends. Warm,’ comes the reply and the light shimmers, twisting and lengthening, pulling and folding in on itself like the taffy she’d loved as a child.

It seems to reach a decision, assuming a form with an audible ‘pop’.

It settles into the shape of a carbuncle, though it’s longer and far more lithe than any carbuncle she’s ever seen in Limsa or Idyllshire. Reminiscent of a ferret or whittret as opposed to a rabbit or kitten type creature.

“Welcome, friend!” exclaims Raha.

The carbuncle just stares, cocking its head. Its long, thin ears lay flat above the clever black eyes—almost too clever—which turn to gaze at her, ‘Where? Go?’

“Adventure,” explains Stelmaria, both aloud and in her mind.