I’ve grown tired of doors closing in my face.
Ishgard is a city of stone and silence, where truth freezes in place under the weight of noble protocol and centuries-old grudges. I came here seeking answers, allies—action—and instead found walls.
But today, I met someone different.
Haurchefant.
A member of one of Ishgard’s high houses, and yet somehow… kind. Warm, even. While others dismissed me with polite scorn or veiled suspicion, he looked me in the eyes and offered help—real help—in our efforts to find Cid’s missing airship.
He sees the bigger picture.
He doesn’t flinch at my fire. He listens. He believes.
And gods, I needed that.
Because while the lords of Ishgard argue over who owes what to whom, my friends—my family—are being held. And I’m here, tangled in red tape and icy etiquette, when I should be rescuing them.
I understand the distrust. Truly, I do.
But I wish they understood the urgency.
I’m not here to score political favor or play at diplomacy. I’m here because people are dying. Because the Scions were slaughtered, and those who survived are still in danger.
And I will not let the cold bury what’s left of them.
Haurchefant is a spark in this frozen world.
I just hope it’s enough to start a fire
