DOCUMENTATION OF EVENTS TAKING PLACE BETWEEN ELEVENTH OF ████████████ AND ████████████ ████ AC. LOCATIONS SPAN OVER THE CROWN ISLE, ██████████, AND THE NORTHERN BORDER OF ████████████
MOST OF THE EVENTS RELATE TO THE ████████ CRISIS, AND SUBJECT'S INABILITY TO CONTROL THEMSELF
It wasn't a matter of selfishness, or self-discovery, or wanting to get better at something. They had already done that, before, when they discovered the ram-horned canine that rested within their soul. It was a matter of wanting to leave the world better than how they'd entered it. Especially in wake of the ███████ █████. Even though this stride for improvement came with context that served ████████, it didn't come as much of a struggle. After all, they were only ever passive in devotion. They contemplated these things extensively on the way over to this isle of black flowers, watching their greying butterflies dance in the spray of the sea.
Once the ragged fishing vessel docked on the washed-out port of the shadowy island of Kiliarallis, it didn't take long for them to attract attention. Given the washed out tone of their skin and the Voidling glow of their eyes, and the starkly Unionist population, they found it necessary to mediate with their visage mirage. Their idea here wasn't to reach any specific destination, after all. They only wished to wander and somehow find the answer buried beneath an unsuspecting rock, or behind a waterfall, or something equally cliche. After all, they were the one who ████████ the ██████ ████████, only to be ████████ into the ████████ ██████████. Maybe that was the mindset they should seek to be rid of; that their past actions defined him, and that what they had done in the past would lead him towards something. Rather, they should be proud of what they did; not what they can do.
With a satchel full of Black Orchids (what kind of opportunist would they be if they didn't at least try?), they convinced another would-be fisherman transport ship to let them aboard. The further they got to their birthplace, the more reminiscent their childhood became, and so started the clockwork motion of dreams and nightmares that infested most of their everyday thoughts. Those corrupting thoughts of having to ████████ his first ████████, forced by his ████████. All the times he was convinced by ████████, all of the little ██████ lies, all of the justifications that had no basis. Only recently had he embraced what he was born to be, but now he wished to scorn it so freely?
After they had landed in Basqlierra on the coast, the outpouring friendly atmosphere almost had an immediate effect. They had pulled in a breath and tried to mantle this fake personality, feigning friendliness and confidence but not bordering on the narcissism and prideful attitude that had came before. Fake it enough and it'll come true eventually. Even though he seemed to abuse whatever hospitality he could get, performing self-care in such a roundabout and exclusively difficult way, it was the first time he'd done such a thing.
Perhaps indulging in the help of others was the key, even if he believed that he could do a better job. If it got done, that didn't matter. It's what Shiori tried to take away from their aimless wandering, that there were plenty of the people in the world that could do his job just as well as him. If they wanted to lead them, they'd have to cultivate that, and push the people around them to their full potential.
It was humbling.
END OF DOCUMENT
Case File - [火 | 1/3]
Case File - [火 | 3/3]
Case File - [火 | 1/3]
Case File - [火 | 3/3]
