I have made an error in judgment. Too late; the town is rubble, and I am hurt, perhaps far too hurt for consolation.
The girl is gone, as well as Cecil. How did I think this would end? I should have thought it through more clear, but everything was moving so quickly. You are a fool, Highwind. Just like your father. Your father would have not thought this to the end, and you have caused setbacks. He ran off to fight and did not foresee never coming back. You nearly died, Highwind, and you must now make amends.
The town of Mist is gone. The King’s ring was a wonder to behold; surely as a general against men of war, there could be nothing more fearsome than using the very powers of an army against themselves. Man’s greatest power is his greatest weakness. The summoners have been undone by the power of the Feymarch, although how the King found a ring so powerful eludes me. Why he would choose to destroy and kill all of these people eludes me. Were it power he wanted, he could have used them, imprisoned them. The recent bloodlust of our kingdom is troubling. But if our king truly knew they posed a grave threat, I would support him until the end. The might of Baron shall have no end, for we are the greatest kingdom the world has ever seen, even before the strength and wonder of empires before.
The little girl left a rift in the earth, a hundred miles long. There is no way across, so I shall return through the cave to Baron and seek the king’s audience. The girl is powerful and he must be warned; it is not my place to criticize him, and I would not seek to demean my rank by doing so. I have heard tale that our airships will be retrofitted soon, and with a force so powerful and agile, we will have no difficulty fording this chasm and finding Harvey and the girl.
The beauty of the valley, through the destruction, is enchanting. I can understand why these people would live here, isolated from the rest of the world. The mountain ranges into the clouds, and the grass is wet with dew that continues into the afternoon. We will hold a grand celebration of the summoners of Mist in Baron, I am sure, and hold festivities and a dirge to lament their tragedy, treason, and memory. No doubt they would not acquiesce to Baron’s demands, and were this kind of power to grow against the peace we bring the world, then no doubt that is why they have been slain.
I remember Harvey; I do not doubt he has somehow saved himself and the girl, and run into the wilderness. Such was the horror on his face when the village was burning and the children and their parents dying from the flames. His cry of horror and his tender embrace of the child as she collapsed and the earth shook and broke apart in half. I do hope he is well and safe, and that he takes the girl to safe harbor, but far from the hands of Baron. For were she to challenge us, either now or in the future, we would surely destroy her.
I pity the girl’s mother. The summoners of Mist must be tied to their eidolons; perhaps the eidolon is a manifestation of their soul. As we destroyed the beast, it almost felt unnatural. But it is a good thing: those beasts have no right to our bodies, and the more of them sent to the nethers where they were spawned, the better. No magic should control man’s mind or body; that is the very definition of a curse. Surely the summoners were cursed, even if they chose it. Why they would inflict that curse upon children is beyond me.
The road is long, and it will be lonely to travel through the mountains without Cecil. The fog of the cave shall be gone, and forever, the magic of this valley dead. I shall say a prayer for them during the nighttime hours of my solitary path.
The girl is gone, as well as Cecil. How did I think this would end? I should have thought it through more clear, but everything was moving so quickly. You are a fool, Highwind. Just like your father. Your father would have not thought this to the end, and you have caused setbacks. He ran off to fight and did not foresee never coming back. You nearly died, Highwind, and you must now make amends.
The town of Mist is gone. The King’s ring was a wonder to behold; surely as a general against men of war, there could be nothing more fearsome than using the very powers of an army against themselves. Man’s greatest power is his greatest weakness. The summoners have been undone by the power of the Feymarch, although how the King found a ring so powerful eludes me. Why he would choose to destroy and kill all of these people eludes me. Were it power he wanted, he could have used them, imprisoned them. The recent bloodlust of our kingdom is troubling. But if our king truly knew they posed a grave threat, I would support him until the end. The might of Baron shall have no end, for we are the greatest kingdom the world has ever seen, even before the strength and wonder of empires before.
The little girl left a rift in the earth, a hundred miles long. There is no way across, so I shall return through the cave to Baron and seek the king’s audience. The girl is powerful and he must be warned; it is not my place to criticize him, and I would not seek to demean my rank by doing so. I have heard tale that our airships will be retrofitted soon, and with a force so powerful and agile, we will have no difficulty fording this chasm and finding Harvey and the girl.
The beauty of the valley, through the destruction, is enchanting. I can understand why these people would live here, isolated from the rest of the world. The mountain ranges into the clouds, and the grass is wet with dew that continues into the afternoon. We will hold a grand celebration of the summoners of Mist in Baron, I am sure, and hold festivities and a dirge to lament their tragedy, treason, and memory. No doubt they would not acquiesce to Baron’s demands, and were this kind of power to grow against the peace we bring the world, then no doubt that is why they have been slain.
I remember Harvey; I do not doubt he has somehow saved himself and the girl, and run into the wilderness. Such was the horror on his face when the village was burning and the children and their parents dying from the flames. His cry of horror and his tender embrace of the child as she collapsed and the earth shook and broke apart in half. I do hope he is well and safe, and that he takes the girl to safe harbor, but far from the hands of Baron. For were she to challenge us, either now or in the future, we would surely destroy her.
I pity the girl’s mother. The summoners of Mist must be tied to their eidolons; perhaps the eidolon is a manifestation of their soul. As we destroyed the beast, it almost felt unnatural. But it is a good thing: those beasts have no right to our bodies, and the more of them sent to the nethers where they were spawned, the better. No magic should control man’s mind or body; that is the very definition of a curse. Surely the summoners were cursed, even if they chose it. Why they would inflict that curse upon children is beyond me.
The road is long, and it will be lonely to travel through the mountains without Cecil. The fog of the cave shall be gone, and forever, the magic of this valley dead. I shall say a prayer for them during the nighttime hours of my solitary path.
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