To Limsa Lominsa

[09-11-XX17] The waves carry me ever closer to the city-state of Limsa Lominsa, where I am to begin my apprenticeship at the Arcanists’ Guild. Of all Eorzea, it is the sole place where one may formally study the arcanum.

I whisper to myself that I am ready, though in truth I know little of the perils that lie ahead. Adventuring is no idle pursuit, and to be an arcanist is to shoulder both study and duty. The guild earns its keep serving Limsa through customs and border work. This is the compromise that every scholar makes.

Knowledge, after all, does not come free.

Still, I look forward to what awaits. I have always adored animals, especially the soft and gentle kind. The thought of a carbuncle’s quiet company at my side brings me comfort.

Tomes and diagrams have long fascinated me. Heavy blocks of script, dense with theory, and intricate circles of mathemagickal sigils. These were the companions of my youth. I cannot recall why they came so naturally to me, only that I dreamed of them often.

But those dreams are strange. In them, I walk beneath familiar skies, yet I am not myself. Another body, another voice, another gender. I live as someone else entirely.

I have heard stories of others who dream such dreams. They say it’s a gift from Hydaelyn herself. Still, I dare not call myself special. Where I come from, hope is a fragile thing, easily broken. It is safer to keep my head bowed than to risk reaching too high.

A few more hours until we make port. The horizon stretches wide, the sea endless and eternal, and my thoughts drift with it.

I offered a prayer to Nymeia the Spinner, that her threads may weave fortune into the path I walk.

For now, I shall close my eyes and let the rocking of the waves carry me into rest.