The first anniversary festivities continue to move forward and here is the third story that will delight history buffs. Good reading !Perfect anniversary source
The battle of Carteneau ended with a heavy human toll. A shower of debris from Dalamud had scarified the plain as far as the eye could see. An apocalyptic landscape ... as if the seven hells of Eorzean myths had materialized on Hydaelyn.
“Kan-E-Senna! We found a survivor! "
At these words the oracle turned. A soldier of the Order of the Two Vipers, his features drawn and his uniform covered in mud, was gesturing vigorously.
" This way ! There's a man trapped under magitek armor! "
There was indeed a faint rattle emanating from under the bowels of the still smoking black carcass. The strength of five men soon lifted the massive armor, freeing the hapless prisoner.
But the soldier was neither a man of the Order, nor even an enlisted member of the Alliance. His black uniform, the same color as the Magitek armor, betrayed his membership in the enemy army: the Imperial Garlemaldic Legion. This boy, barely out of adolescence, livid, more than half dead, moaned loudly as his abdomen was bleeding profusely. He was a Hyur, undoubtedly from some distant province, who had come to get lost in this unknown land to find death there.
“He's still breathing! Let's finish it! "
One of the soldiers, a slender Élézen, had stepped forward, drawing a jade-colored sword from its scabbard.
" No ! Imperial or not, this man is wounded. I cannot allow the blood of a helpless man to soil the hands of our people. "
The soldier protested, then changed his mind.
Closing his eyes, Kan-E-Senna clasped Claustrum, his favorite staff, a petrified wood weapon in his hands. She focused her spiritual energy with a grave expression, intoning the start of a white magic spell.
“O pure winds of New Year's Eve, come to me and heal the wounds of this unfortunate! "
Responding to his soft, whispering voice, a luminous wind enveloped the soldier on the ground. His expression, hitherto tense with pain, softened in an instant.
" His days are not in danger. Take him and make sure he is well groomed. "
" At your service ! "
The soldiers carried off the still half-unconscious man. Kan-E-Senna continued thereafter to heal many combatants, enemy and allies, but the battlefield counted more dead than wounded.
"Despite all these sacrifices, we could not avoid the Scourge ..."
As the military ruler of Gridania, Kan-E-Senna must have sent many men to the front lines. She who hated armed conflicts had consented to make this sacrifice only in the hope of preventing the predicted cataclysm of the seventh plague and to save the greatest number.
Alas, Dalamud had ended up falling, and the black dragon rising from his entrails had scorched the earth with its devastating flames. The Scourge could not be avoided ... making all these deaths in vain.
Once the battle was over, Kan-E remained in Carteneau to direct the casualty evacuation operations. However, she continued to wonder inside her if her decision had been the right one. Hadn't she sent hundreds of compatriots to certain death for nothing? Should she have withdrawn from the conflict?
Of course, she was also worried about the fate of her City in these troubled days. In what state would she find Gridania? She had entrusted her protection to the other two Oracles, her brother and sister, knowing that they were surrounded by many experienced druids. She thought she could trust them, that they would make the right decisions if anything happened. The eldest of the Senna, however, had to remain on the battlefield again, out of duty but also because she bore moral responsibility for the lives she had turned upside down by leading them to the front. Continuing the rescue operations for days on end, without any rest, she had helped to save many wounded.
But as the days went by, the survivors were becoming more and more rare. The members of the research teams, driven until then by the desire to save those of their comrades who could still be saved, began to express the wish to return home. Many had left wives and children behind, and were consumed with worry.
"This is the end ... We won't find any more survivors." "
Assembling his generals, Kan-E-Senna began to prepare the general retirement order.
But before he returned, he had one thing left to do. Caught by rescue operations, she had not had time to look for him ... Guided by her memories and reminiscences of ether, she wandered in the still lukewarm ruins of the terrible catastrophe, scanning the ground in search of a very specific object.
“Ah! Here you are at last... "
She bent down to pick up a stick broken into several pieces in a shadowy corner. It was Tupsimati, Louisoix's weapon, that the Padjale had miraculously managed to distinguish among the hundreds of debris that littered the ground. The shaft and crosseron were broken, but she managed to reunite all the fragments.
Although ignorant of its history, Kan-E-Senna knew, through his sharp sensitivity of Padjale, that the object contained a particular magical force. She was able to feel it just by touching it with her fingertips.
If, at that precise moment, the old master had only been reported missing, Kan-E-Senna knew that the idea would soon have to be resolved that he would not return. She had at least wanted to bring that memory of him back to those he had guided to the fateful moment, and this project had haunted her thoughts all these days.
It was then that she was about to order the retreat that she had finally found, as a sign of destiny, the leadership of the Sharlayan master. As if Louisoix had guided his steps to this last gift he left to his disciples.
Back in Gridania, Kan-E had summoned two Preux who were lending a hand in the first reconstruction operations. Yda and Papalymo were originally members of the Cenacle of Knowledge, the organization founded by their master and compatriot Louisoix Leveilleur.
"I would like to give you something ..."
La Padjale took out a finely crafted rosewood chest, probably made by the carpenters guild. This contained the pieces of Tupsimati, reconstituted and put back in place.
"Master Louisoix ..."
Seeing the fragments of their master's staff, the two scholars burst into tears, as if the sight of the object had finally made them realize its death. If the exuberant Yda was used to effusions, it was more rare to see the cynical Papalymo come out of his usual reserve, yet the Lalafell also cried hot tears.
Recovering himself, he then spoke of the object's past. The crosseron of the staff, he explained, is adorned with a very powerful tablet whose two halves are placed symmetrically on each side, and surmounted by a horn which is said to be a Sharlayan treasure. This weapon was, also according to its late owner, the key to the invocation of the Twelve in Eorzea.
“The weapon is broken, but I'll be happy to know it's safe with you. It is probably only Louisoix who knew how to unleash his power, but who knows what use it could be made of if it were to fall into the hands of malicious people. "
“Thanks, Kan-E-Senna. We will keep it preciously. "
“It will be a symbol of hope for our new group. "
The two scholars informed him of the recent plan to unite the former members of the Cenacle of Knowledge, the Order of the Knights of Sharlayan, and those of the Way of the Twelve, an organization of people with special abilities, into a new entity.
This new circle would work to save Eorzea from the threat of the Primordials, a problem to which Louisoix devoted himself during the last months of his life.
The master had certainly perished on the plain of Carteneau, but his spirit animated his disciples more vividly than ever. They were determined to pursue his ambition. Kan-E-Senna also felt filled with new energy thanks to the enthusiasm of the two Sharlayans, and the almost perceptible presence of Louisoix, and decided to do everything in her power to come to their aid.
Five years after these events, Kan-E-Senna still had questions. Did his decisions make the victims of Carteneau or Louisoix proud?
“O Kan-E-Senna! The great council of spirits is about to begin. "
La Padjale turned, the thread of her thoughts interrupted. A young man clad in white leather armor stood beside him; a member of the White Serpent Guard, the squadron founded after the disaster, under the direct command of the Elder Oracle. The man she had once saved had joined this unit, and now devoted himself to the close protection of the one to whom he owed his life. She answered him with a gentle smile.
“Let's go back to the lotus pulpit. "
Like the young soldier, fate sometimes turns an enemy into a friend. Mutual understanding and brotherhood can turn an antagonist into a valuable ally, and a hand outstretched often accomplishes more than a raised weapon. To achieve this rebirth that Louisoix wanted from the bottom of his heart, we must pray for deceased friends, and walk alongside newly encountered companions.
Kan-E-Senna resumed with a serene air the path she knew well, treading a soil colored by the play of sun rays piercing the foliage.