By Lyra Zwahn
Content Warning: Action, Death, Violence
G’tyzo F’yrkatt, or simply “Firecat,” as he was known by the locals, led fearsome bandits with a penchant for relieving trade convoys of their goods among narrow paths in The Fringes. They were a plague to the region, slowing resource flow to occupied Ala Mhigo.
Firecat swaggered into the tavern, pockets full of gil as usual. He sat down, and the fire-lit room went quiet. Chatter returned, but locals funneled out into the night. Firecat smirked and put his feet up. Just then, a red-haired Elezen woman caught his eye at another table. Her name was Ufine, and she drank from a flagon of foamy ale.
“Looks like you’re not the most popular man in town,” she quipped.
Her silvery eyes met his, and he shrugged in amusement. From then on, they bonded with stories of exploits and talk of life, struggles, and the brutality of a post-Calamity world. After such violence, she was a bright spot; he looked forward to their chats in that little forest tavern. The world felt emptier on nights she wasn’t there to receive him.
The big one was just around the bend.
Whispers informed Firecat a lavish Ul’dahn caravan made its way to the Ala Mhigo palace. Apparently, Garleans hungered for luxuries. That was fine by him, since it was a ticket to early retirement. “We’ll be set for life with this one,” he told Ufine.
Sand hissed in the wind, and the sun blazed as Firecat and crew slinked behind searing stones on ridges above the road. He watched the vulnerable caravan snake through tight spaces in rock and halt before a pile of stones. Chocobos huffed.
Firecat pounced, and guards were quickly dispatched. Suddenly, tarps flew back on the wagons, and well-equipped soldiers leaped out in attack. The bandits had walked right into an Immortal Flames trap! While Firecat’s crew did not survive, he made quick work of the fighters.
Still, one disengaged soldier remained: Ufine.
Stunned, Firecat was caught off-guard by a wind blast. The two battled in the midday heat, pushing themselves to the limit. His battered axe was shattered by a flying stone, and the second rock broke his neck. He threw a tomahawk with fading strength and heard it strike Ufine as the world went black. Firecat collapsed on the sand, but there was a flash of light. He tasted the dirt in his mouth and coughed, sat up, and wiped the sand from his face.
She revived him with the last of her mana.
Firecat rushed to Ufine bleeding on the ground and raised her into his arms. Her silver eyes pleaded with him, yet she smiled. He smiled, too. They uttered not a word, and she passed quietly in his grasp. He held her quietly for a moment.
He killed the only person he ever loved.
Knowing the Flames would be along soon, he placed her gently on the ground and laid his broken axe beside her – his banditry finished. That day, he swore an oath to cherish the gift of life she gave him at the cost of her own. He marched from the ravine, reborn as a hero of Eorzea, champion of the lost, and defender of the defenseless – in hope that such a loss might never happen again.
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Zwahn Tales 