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======1 — Brighter Than======

Mja Tohki's story begins in the woods particularly close to what would one day be called Garlemald, 124 years back. She was born as one of three triplets, and bizarrely the only girl among them (though, that wasn't particularly relevant while they were still children) and was also a particularly sickly child. She always suffered from aether sickness, or something of the sort; nobody in her village—not even the chirurgeon—knew how to fix her, merely how to alleviate her symptoms. She shifted between fever and chills as readily as the sun and moon rose and fell, her body aching and straining to simply function.
Thus, she was frequently bedridden, and was unable to explore the woods that the Tohki tribe called home, much less the outside world, though that wasn't in the cards for her anyways, as Viera women tended to hearth and home and nurtured the woods, while the men were tasked with safeguarding the forests writ large.

On one particular afternoon, the weather as gloomy and foggy as the young little Mja who vacantly stared at a crackling firepit, while her mother wrung a washcloth to replace the one that'd dried atop her head, their village had a bizarre event occur. Something that, by all rights, should never happen.

They received a visitor.

How the Hyur (at least, he seemed to be one) slipped past the Wood-Warders was a mystery, but everyone gathered in alarm, hiding their children in their homes as he seemingly aimlessly wandered toward the village matriarch's modest home.

"Honestly, Viera though? It feels as though I've stumbled into a particularly droll jest."

He sounded... unenthused, the villagefolk wondered why he'd even come.

His footsteps dragged him up to the door, where with all the politeness of a door-to-door salesman, he knocked.

"Leave, outsider! I know not why you have come here, but there is nothing here for you in this place!" Mja's mother exclaimed, wrapping her sickly daughter in her arms.\\ 
"...Perhaps you are correct." He replied, with a languorous sigh. "But I have time enough to spare some on a ghost or two. Permit me to enter, and I shall cure your daughter of what ails her."\\ 
"...! How dare you make such a presumption. No, why should I even trust you, when you clearly know nothing—"\\ 
"It is you who knows nothing. Nothing at all! Nothing of this //world//, nothing of its //people//, nothing even of the terrible burden that child in your arms has chosen to bear, even now." He snapped back, his words laced with fury enough to cause her mother to wince.

But Mja felt something else, alongside fear. //Excitement//. A visitor from beyond the woods, a visitor who held the promise of a cure, even. Naive and innocent as all children are wont to be, she peered up at her mother and muttered softly.

"Mam, maybe he's being sincere. Why does he know about us? About me?"\\ 
"I don't know. But that is why we cannot trust his words."\\ 
"Yes, 'tis but a lone man's foolish whims." He replied through the door. His hearing was apparently as sharp as theirs, at the very least. "I'll leave, as you wish, but in doing so you doom your child to a slow and agonizing death, as her aether consumes her."

Naturally, Mja trembled. Like a clear blue sky that suddenly shifted to storms and rains, the curious man's attitude shifted just as readily as capricious mother nature herself.\\ 
Her mother too, felt anxiety creep in; her impatience grappled with her awareness that this was most likely part of his ploy to do... something to her child. But seeing the innocent hope in the young bun's eyes gradually begin to dim, her heart gave way first.

"Fine then. But you'd best explain everything, lest I run you through with my spear."\\ 
"I fear even a Viera lifespan might not have time enough for that." He snarked.

===＊　＊　＊===

After having put her daughter back in her bed of packed feathery down and grass, the village matriarch opened the door and declared to the village that this man would be accepted—temporarily—into their abode.\\ 
Naturally this elicited quite a bit of shock from the village, but nobody dared speak out against her; they at least could hear his half of the conversation, and gleaned that he was some form of chirurgeon come to heal one of theirs.

"'No matter where my wanderings take me, thou mayest still find me,' hmm? Such a cumbersome curse to place on someone so casually. How many times will this happen, I wonder..." The man spoke to himself, looming over the sickly Mja.\\ 
"Hyur, touch her and I break your fingers." Her mother warned. "Now explain."\\ 
He sighed. "That would make treating her rather difficult. I shall make no attempt to translate to terms you might comprehend, as doing such would require more effort than I'm willing to put in. Honestly, seeing her like this I'm beginning to regret this entire ordeal."\\ 
"How dare... I knew you couldn't—"\\ 
"Ugh, calm down. So impatient. I did not say I would go back on my word, merely that... she is still wrong. That is all."

Well, Mja could agree with that much at least. She would one day inherit her mother's position, tend to the woods and settle down with her own family, perpetuating their village's cycle forever, never to see anything beyond the trees... The thought was suffocating.\\ 
Perhaps if she'd been born a man, she could at least steal away to see what was just beyond at the very least.

"She is suffering from a sickness of the soul. Rather, her talents are too great for her frame, its a rather awkward position to be in, and one that by and large is favorable to us—a great thorn in our side, possibly excised at last. But... even I can't bear to see her aether in such a tumultuous state."\\ 
"You speak in riddles, Hyur."\\ 
"Please, call me... Solus, that name is fitting enough I suppose. For I shall be as the sun, come to free her of the gloom that threatens her. In brief, she's too gifted for her own good. Ever the show-off when it comes to magic, even when you do not intend to be."

The man—Solus, turned his gaze back down toward Mja, who simply returned it with a tilt of her head and twitch of her ears.

"Magic? You mean to say my child is a shaman?"\\ 
"How //barbaric//. No, she is something far greater than that. Or was, once." He smiled vacantly. "She might be, once more, too."\\ 
"More riddles..."\\ 
"To an uneducated mind, perhaps. Now then, child. This will hurt, be warned. But endure it and you shall be able to slake the wanderlust trapped in your eyes."\\ 
Mja trembled in her bed, //how did he know?//

The man did... something. It looked like he just waved his hands around, but suddenly a great pressure bore down into her mind, threatening to devour her. It felt as though her head would split open, and all of her thoughts and hopes and wishes would come tumbling out. Her body groaned, the magic trapped within guided by a cool and tranquil force, like a trowel digging fresh channels for it to flow through.\\ 
She felt herself be sick, her mother shouting something—but she sounded so far away.

//‘Safe travels, ■■■■■■■■■■.’//

Eventually, darkness claimed her, and she had strange, alien dreams. Of a world more fantastical than anything her mother described; of people and gods who walked hand-in-hand; of love and hate and betrayal.

Those too—fevered blurs that they were—faded from her memories, as she eventually regained consciousness.
The man had left, and her mother was hovering over her in concern. It'd apparently been many days, but for the first time, she didn't feel aches or chills in her body—though she still felt rather weak.

For once, she peered out the window with a smile on her face, as bright as the sunlight shining through the boughs; there was a whole world out there waiting for her. And she wouldn't let it pass her by.

======2 — Twice as Hot======

Several decades had passed, and Mja was now a grown adult. Ever since that bizarre Hyur visited the village, she’d been cured of the strange sickness that plagued her, but the constant fever and chill had done its damage, leaving her in a disadvantaged state compared to her fellow tribesfolk—in particular her brothers, who’d already left to safeguard the woods—but even still she spent much of her time being physically active, much to her mother’s chagrin.\\ 
Even though Mja was an adult by their society’s standards, her mother was ever the worrywart, both as village chieftain, and as mom to a frail flower of a child.

She couldn’t hunt for the family, not strong enough to string a bow heavy enough to actually bring down prey, so instead she spent her time wandering the near-woods, gathering seasonal berries, keeping the forest floor clear of rotting logs, and most importantly… exploring.

She’d happened upon them by chance, but one day while wandering about, Mja encountered strange metallic debris that was far too heavy to move. Not that it stopped her from trying though.\\ 
Forcing her weight against it to attempt to dislodge it from the dirt, her elbow incidentally struck a button, causing a sliding hatch door to groan open.

While they had no language to describe it, she was immediately fascinated by the Allagan ruins. With her curiosity on overdrive, Mja Tohki wandered down into the surprisingly vast bunker…

…and immediately regretted her decision, as several automated defense drones began chasing her down. She wasn’t capable of defending herself—she lacked the strength to carry arms, and couldn’t call upon the forest spirits’ aid like the village geomancers—so her only option was to flee through the sleeping facility until the odd metal creatures(?) ceased their pursuit.

Unfortunately, she had a weak constitution, and—though she didn’t know it—her pursuers had no sense of fatigue at all.\\ 
It didn’t take long for her to trip over something in the dimly illuminated halls, the cold metal of the floor mercilessly greeting her as she plummeted.

“Eek!”

Her arms throbbed, her lungs burned; equal amounts pain and adrenaline coursed through her, masking if she’d broken a bone or not. The odd creatures hovered towards her, radiating dim red light as they blared noise at her.

//Mam… I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have gone in on my own! I knew the world would be dangerous but… But even in our woods!? What should I do? What can I do!?//

Her mind raced, she trembled in fear, was she really about to become food for these things?

//‘She was something far greater once…’// That strange man’s words echoed in her mind. Solus had claimed that she was some sort of shaman, though she never heard the spirits' voices. If anything they always seemed to shy away from her, for some reason.\\ 
So then what could she do?

//Something… Anything. Please, just get rid of these things!//

In her mind’s eye, she saw the beasts approaching her; she envisioned a shade, a spirit shaped like her mother, armed with a bow firing at them and scaring them off.

“Please, hear my voice!” She cried out, holding her hands up toward the metal monsters. “I just wanted to see what this world was like!”

When she opened her eyes, before her outstretched hands was a… blade—or perhaps shard was more accurate—of roiling darkness. As she looked at it bemusedly, it hurtled towards her foes and impaled one of them.
After a beat, it //exploded// in a massive fiery conflagration, lighting up the walls and panels in the alien facility.

She coughed, rubbing the smoke from her eyes. “Did… I just do that?”

When the smoke dissipated, all that was left of the “beasts” was molten slag and charred circuitry, the smell of ozone filling the air as she staggered back up to her feet, wincing as a sudden spike of pain shot up her leg.\\ 
She’d sprained her ankle, it seemed, but was otherwise no worse for wear.

Glancing around the now dimly-lit facility thanks to her impromptu campfire, she looked at the strange technology lining the walls—after gathering up all the spilled fruits back in the hem of her skirt, at least.

Beneath a black glass wall were several panels and machines, and ever the free spirited and brave soul, she randomly started pressing buttons.\\ 
As the monitors lit up, a bright smile played across her face. Surely, the village would find something of great use down here.

===＊　＊　＊===

“You did //WHAT!?”//

Her mother’s voice cracked from how forcefully she shouted.\\ 
Mja winced, shrinking back against the wall as she looked away.

“B-But it’s okay… I’m not hurt! Well, my ankle is—”\\ 
“Your ankle’s currently swollen like a melon! You could have died!”\\ 
“But I didn’t! I did… something, I think it was magic! Maybe I can actually—”\\ 
“Rid yourself of these foolish thoughts, my little cherrim. That isn’t the first of these mysterious ruins we’ve encountered, and it shan't be the last. The things in there are dangerous. You’re incredibly lucky they were of the sort that didn’t shoot magicks from a distance. Not to mention how… reckless and dangerous this magecraft you describe is. I doubt the forest approves of such a method… Can you even reproduce the phenomenon?”\\ 
“I… haven’t tried…” Mja’s already perpetually lopped ears somehow looked as though they were drooping further.\\ 
“Unchecked magic is dangerous, there’re any number of ways you could’ve injured yourself. We’ll have to speak with the shaman about this.”

Her mother glared at her, hands on her hips, but after a few more moments of seeing the poor girl cowering in place silently, she softened.

“I’m only worried for you.”\\ 
“I know, both my brothers have already joined the protectors, and I’ll have to watch over and guide the village one day, but…”\\ 
“Oh you silly girl.” Her mother moved forward, placing a hand atop Mja’s platinum silver hair. “That may be the case, but I’m worried about you. I’m your mother!”\\ 
“You don’t have to be so overprotective though…”\\ 
“Like I trust anything that Hyur did. For all we know this ‘magic’ business might be his fault! It reeks of—”\\ 
“If it //is// his fault, then he’s saved my life twice over! Regardless of any recklessness on my behalf, shouldn’t you at least not use him as your hay-man?”

They’d had no contact with the Hyur in all those years; not that they knew much of their biology, but he’d most likely returned to the earth. The least her mother could do is not disparage his deeds…

“And for what it’s worth, I’m more than happy to speak with the shaman about it.”\\ 
“You… are? But I thought…” Her mother pulled herself away, peering down at her daughter curiously.\\ 
“I know we don’t really get along, because I ‘smell weird’ or whatever it is. But I do want to help our home, however I can, mam.”

Her mother ruffled her hair once more, sighing and turning toward their humble kitchen area.

“Then can you help me skin Mahya’s latest catch? I’ll pull a stool up for you to rest your foot with. Ah, perhaps I can ask the shaman to come to our home…”

Mja shook her head and sighed, sitting down as her mother—in her own way—continued to dote on her.

===＊　＊　＊===

“So, you’re telling me… that you held out your hands, thought really hard, and 'shot an explosion at the weird monsters.'” The dour, raccoon-eyed Viera glowered at Mja.\\ 
“…Yep!”\\ 
“Get out of my house.”\\ 
“But… this is our house.”\\ 
“Oh… right. Well, I can’t exactly doubt your words, you smell worse than usual. Apparently.”

Mja and the village shaman, Addja, were currently sitting opposite each other beside the firepit; Mja had her leg propped up on a tall stool, while Addja was currently attempting to coax some spirits into visiting their abode, supposedly.\\ 
Mja couldn’t see spirits, nor hear them, so she just had to trust in the shaman’s words on the matter. Apparently, she “reeked of foul energies” and “was like a great grizzly stamping around a deer’s nest” as far as the little beings of nature were concerned.

“This is a pretty nasty sprain though…” Addja drawled. “Surprised you didn’t twist your ankle off. Maybe the spirits haven’t completely abandoned you, at least.”\\ 
“Hahaha… thanks, I guess?”\\ 
“Don’t thank me.” she snapped back.

She’d rubbed some sort of salve on Mja’s swollen calf, which stung tremendously. She’d also salted the bunny with an earthy powder, which made her smell somewhat pleasantly of petrichor and moss.

The next several minutes were spent in awkward silence, as Addja muttered to herself and strained herself progressively harder, a vein above her squinted-shut eyes looking like it was about to burst.

“…About time you showed up.” The tired-looking rabbit turned her attention to the air beside her, shaking her head. “Sorry, I should be more polite. Thank you for coming to assist this bird-brain.”\\ 
“Hey!”\\ 
“What? She //likes// birds, y’know.” Addja turned her gaze back, a haggard smile curling on her lips. “So? How’s it looking?”

Considering only following one half of a conversation was boring at best, and a headache at worst, Mja let her mind wander instead…

She wanted to go back to that mysterious bunker; she was sure there’d be something in there that could help their village out. At the very least, maybe they could use some scrap metal as building material, or as a flower bed.\\ 
Maybe they were ruins from an ancient civilization, and had some secret knowledge that’d shake the foundation of their very world!\\ 
Or a recipe for a very nice cloudberry pie… even that would be worth the trip enough.\\ 
The important thing was the story she could share, in the end. In that sense, a pie would probably be more useful than world-shaking information—stories always went better with a sweet snack.

As her mind wandered to thoughts of food, Mja realized that she was being stared at, and snapped her attention back to reality.\\ 
She noticed that her ankle wasn’t swollen anymore, either, and there wasn’t any lingering pain.

“So? How do you feel?”\\ 
“Peachy keen! Mm, I wonder if there’s any peaches left in the pantry…”\\ 
“When exactly was the last time you ate—no, wait, we can’t get distracted by that.” Addja shook her head and frowned. “You. Tell me again about that ‘magic’ business. The //whole// story, details included, this time.”\\ 
“Oh! Well…”

Mja recounted her tale of derring-do, ending with how she caused an explosive blast.\\ 
Addja was particularly curious about the details of that, though unfortunately… Mja’s explanation lacked… anything resembling clarity.

“Like, I, said. I just held my hands up and thought really hard like ‘grrnnn’ and then there was a weird black thing that went ‘schwing’ when I commanded it to, and it hit the monsters and exploded!”\\ 
“I know I asked for details, but please try not to think too hard about it in here. I’d rather not have my home exploded.”\\ 
“But this is //our// home.”\\ 
“I’d rather not have the village chieftain's home exploded either.”\\ 
“Hehe, you really //do// care don’t you?” Mja giggled.\\ 
“This is why I can’t deal with you… So? I take it you haven’t attempted this… ‘conjuration’ business again? Did you feel anything strange afterward, either in your body or mind?”\\ 
“Mmmm… well my ankle really hurt.”\\ 
“//Other,// than your ankle.” Addja groaned.

Mja delved into the depths of her memories—a grand undertaking for the woefully hungry peach-deprived girl.
But she persevered, and thought long and hard on the moment after she recovered from the shock of what she’d done.

“Hmm… I guess… I felt sad? That’s kinda weird, right?”\\ 
“Sad. Well, it’s not exactly a strange feeling to have after taking a life, but why did you feel sad? The machines inside ruins like that are not of nature; their existence serves no purpose and they are neither living nor dead. The spirits deplore them more than you, if anything.”\\ 
“Do you really have to take jabs at me like that?” Mja frowned. “I get it… But uh… No, I wasn't sad because of the mashins. I don’t really know where it came from or why.”\\ 
“Hrmn… I cannot speak for your emotions, Mja; you have to decide what they mean. Regardless, you should keep that ‘gift’ to yourself. It’s clearly aberrant in some way, and it’s impossible to tell what sort of backlash it would possess.”

So she had nothing useful to say either.

Well, no news was good news, as far as Mja was concerned. She’d avoid it in the village—not that there’d be any need for such destructive force inside their home regardless—and use it for self-defense while exploring those ruins. That seemed good enough!

======3 — And Just as Merciless======

She spent the next several years tinkering about in those ruins, even deciphering a little of the language on the devices and figuring out what the recordings were.\\ 
Unfortunately, it was neither world-shaking information nor a pie recipe. As far as she could tell, it was just someone’s diary, logging the days they spent trapped in this shelter. They gave no indication to why or when, just something about a “Xanthe” who’d gone mad with power or something…

The ruins had become fairly safe, and she was considering asking some of the more physically capable tribesfolk to come in and see if there was anything worth recycling for their village—she’d dismantled the rest of the defense nodes with similarly explosive shards of magic, though she still didn’t quite understand how or why she was capable of doing so.\\ 
It simply came naturally to her, and every time she tapped into her power, there was a powerful longing sorrow that threatened to sweep her away, like she was lost at sea and the tide wished to pull her under.

Which was bizarre, she had no idea how she even knew about the ocean, much less its function; and yet she did. Where that knowledge came from was concerning, but it certainly wasn’t from her adventures in the ruins.

Speaking of, she’d managed to turn them into quite the little home-away-from home, with a hammock in the reading room and some potted plants to help liven the place up a little.\\ 
She even spread some dirt about on the floor in the entrance and the terminal room, hoping that the gesture would at least earn some brownie points with the spirits, even if they’d never set foot (did they even have feet?) in the place.\\ 
It was more than suitable to use as a Viera den for inviting visitors.

Unfortunately, she would never get the chance to invite anyone to her fun little hide-away.

In the year 1518, while she was busy trying to figure out how exactly an aetherochemical battery supplied its fuel to a machina, she heard a bizarre droning sound coming from overhead.

By the time she made it out of the bunker, it was already too late.\\ 
The forest was filled with shades of amber and scarlet, the animals shrieking in terror as they fled. But more horrifying was the sound of machines, droning, grinding, stomping, buzzing, shooting.\\ 
She didn’t understand who, what, or why, but panic gripped her heart and she dashed back home, as fast as her pathetic body would carry her.

The scene she saw when she returned felt as though it’d already long been burned into her memories.

Fire, consuming everything.\\ 
The dead, either in piles or on the ground where they tried to resist.\\ 
Bizarre creatures—No, were they people?—wielding strange tools that spat death far more effortlessly than a bow would.\\ 
Machines, trampling over everything, sawing through their very home itself.

“What…” She trembled, her body out of breath but her spirit burning with fury. //“ARE YOU DOING!?”//

That got the attention of some of the bizarrely armored figures, who trained their weapons on her. But they were too slow.\\ 
There was already plenty of fire all around them, all it took was a wave of her hand, and it leapt from the nearby boughs and washed over them, swirling around before erupting upward in a vortex of scorching death.

Next was a machine, charging toward her slowly. She’d already dealt with more than enough.\\ 
Embracing the grief that was already churning within her, she trivially tapped into her gift and threw deadly shards of shade at the vehicle.\\ 
It survived two blasts, but the third struck true on its fuel supply, causing the entire thing to go off like sparklestones during a solstice festival.

With the immediate threat handled, she rushed toward home; dread that she’d not yet dug up from her well of emotions gushed forth as she saw the door already ajar.\\ 
Inside… her mother was missing. Given the state of the village, that was little comfort to her.

“Sir, moving in.”\\ 
“Proceed with caution, that one is different.”\\ 
“Understood.”\\ 
//“Squad 15, sector 3 clear. Over.”//\\ 
“Squad 15, meet up with Squad 0 in sector 1. We still have a live one. Over.”

Voices came from just outside, and she whirled around on the spot.\\ 
It’d all happened so fast, where did they go wrong?

Had that Hyur betrayed them after all?\\ 
But her magic had been a gift from him, and it was…

She shook her head. //No, I could always do this, all he did was hold my hand.//

Slowly, brazenly, she walked out.

Their weapons were all trained on her, an absurd spectacle to any onlooker.\\ 
Men, armored in glowing steel and bearing weapons that could make hunting game into a //joke,// all taking a half step back from a malnourished-looking rabbit, whose ears couldn’t even stand up on their own.

The flames surrounding them reflected in her eyes as she glared. “Who are you?”\\ 
Not ‘why have you come here’ or ‘why have you done this.’\\ 
“We are the Garlean Empire! Loyal soldiers of Solus zos Galvus! Surrender, and you may yet live as part of our—”\\ 
“Solus?” Her eyes widened.\\ 
“So even the primitives have heard of our emperor.”\\ 
“Truly he is a grand figure, to be known even in abandoned forests.”

There was a chorus of laughs.

“We came here to claim these lands for Garlemald, and to harvest its lumber for—”\\ 
“I did not ask for that.”\\ 
“Huh?”\\ 
“All I wanted to know… is what to call you when I explain your folly.”

At her clearly provocative declaration, they raised their guns once more—but it was already too late.

===＊===

High above the canopy of trees, in one of many airships that moved as though blanketing the skies in the dark clouds of war, a man stood by watching his troops handiwork.\\ 
Surely their emperor would be delighted at his forward thinking attitude, securing them valuable resources and terrain in one fell swoop. The fact there were primitives living there was a surprise, but they were no match before Solus’ incredible ceruleum innovations.

As he looked down at the flames being corralled by his fireteams, he saw a peculiar sight.

On that day, not in the sky, but on the land far below, the Legatus bore witness to a star being born, as the forest was entirely consumed by the “fires of Hades itself,” as he’d later describe it.