#he's the source of the calamity so the source IN THE PRESENT should be strong I agree

[shieldkeeper]

Writing Prompt: Clear Word Count: 959 Frostbite AU

This fine Seer has had plenty a vision since the beginnings of his tale. What strong beginnings too! For his lot was of the liege’s son. The reigning leader of his tribe, this clan whom claimed the southern shores as their homeland. Compared to the icy and snowy norths, the shoreline had managed something of a ‘warm’ temperature if one could call it such. Warmer than any other land that has slowly but surely escaped the frostbite of the ice calamity.

From birth was he marked with the celestial ink of their tribe’s cerulean blue hues. From then onwards did that tattoo spiral and form into the signs of a natural born oracle in the making. As a child, oft did he foretell random happenings—menial things. Such as something that would occur the very next day or in a few weeks’ time. When they would know themselves to go lacking in food sources or gaining in harvests. Or which maiden in the village would be next to give birth. Which days would give rain or sunlight.

Those foretellings dwindled over time. If only because certain visions need not warrant an announcement. That and… word would undoubtedly spread the more accurate his prophecies came to be. Seers and Oracles weren’t always exact in their days’ time. Most were seen as false prophets. Scammers out of what little other tribes have in hopes for better fortune. Very few were seen as credible sources—even more so that the few who could be trusted, their visions were not so easy to decipher.

Yet young Garen’s was always so crystal clear. His visions playing in his head as though he were there to live the tale. How awful it was an experience when most recent dream to date played out in the coming of another calamity! A burden that only he alone foretold.

As though the very skies had caught fire, what one might think a sunset burned a far brighter red than he had ever seen before in his lifetime. Comets raining down upon the lands as scaley winged creatures tearing the grounds asunder. A nightmare in and of itself.

When next he woke… he knew immediately what must be done. A prophecy was to be made—he would deny the fate of which he had witnessed.

“Harken onto me. For I come bearing a tale that must be told.  Sung far and wide for a call to arms. Legends of renown join side by side. Skies will burn crimson. Raining fire and steel. Flesh against scales. A revelation of calamitous grandeur. If left unmatched, the lands shall be razed. Our lives at great stake. The future uncertain thereon.”

Thus was his song and dance as he traveled the continent over. Visiting each and every tribe and clan that he could find in search of strong warriors who would aid the cause in defying his vision. Not alone either! The first of his travels was to be accompanied by his younger brother Holou, duty-bound and determined to ensure his elder brother found his footing in his venture.

Oft were they met with hostility. Suspicions. Why would they dare to offer their strongest able-bodied warriors to some unknown threat? How would this Seer pay the price should he fail and his comrades fail? Was this all a scheme to kill off their strongest and raid their villages?

Be that as it may, Garen did manage to convince a number of the warriors regardless of their clan’s feelings. Many of them were looking for a challenge in fact! How could they ever call themselves the legends of their tribes if they were to cower down when a battle presented itself? They wished to witness this so called prophecy for themselves.

When that day came to pass at long last—it was but a singular day later from when they had all arrived at the place of destination. A night’s worth of rest and celebration both before and after that calamitous day. Just as Garen had foretold, the skies bled red as fire reigned down from an alien-like machine. Filled to the brim with draconic looking creatures hellbent on destroying their lives as they cast down upon them in raging fire.

They managed to hold out and best their lot. Victory at hand and songs of praises for each and every one of them. The warriors would return home with heads held high and many a tale to bring back with them!

Save for two.

Vision having come to pass as it always did, Garen had some… uncertainties. Worries enough that pressed him further northward. As though answering a call that his role was not yet complete despite having done just as he felt necessary.

There he would find a hidden… City? Village? Made out of pipes and unbendable metals. That which they so easily entered but would not so easily escape its grasps once caught. Partners in crime captured for their antics as they so forcefully entered this brave new frontier.

…From then on did a new vision take claim upon the Seer in his dreams. A vision that was not so easy to decipher into words, nor did it give any particular comforts. Garen did his utmost best to scribe it out upon song.

“Hark! Slumber no more as the elements stir. Aroused by fire and calamity the earth breaks free of her icy prisons. Dawn of a new age betwixt known and unknowns. Write anew your future and gorge in the realm's joyous splendor! For unbound do the eikons walk. Unshaken pacts upon wayward contracts. Dance to their tune and ye shall know your fate. Travel... Roam... Learn... Ware Beyond new horizons marks the shadows of the yester suns. Pay tribute else flesh stolen asunder.”

[cfs-melkire]

Jerk

"Are you going to tell me about her?"

They were at the bazaar again, with Hakan serving as Iona's chaperone. This was a particularly opportune time for it: a foreign dignitary was expected that very evening, there was a parade planned for his arrival, and so every merchant at the bazaar was planning on closing out their stalls within the next few bells. Consequently, there was significantly less haggling to be done… say rather, the merchants were content to sell something, anything, for more marginal profits than usual, which meant that one could get away with quite a few discounts if one was clever.

Iona was clever and she had a silver tongue to wield.

He had spent the afternoon as he usually did: following her around, carrying her things, and regaling her with the latest in what he was learning at Lidenbok Books. His grasp over the written language has improved by such leaps and bounds over the past few moons that Deiter had taken to encouraging him to peruse the shop's texts whenever there were no customers present. Hakan had gravitated towards World History, Geography, and, surprisingly, Law. He found himself possessed of a fascination with nation-states as discrete entities in and of themselves.

"Did you know," he asked the girl on one occasion, "that Garamscythe Waterway has its source in the Skatay Range, and that it services even Nalbina Fortress? Truly, Bangaa masons are masters of their craft. What a long and arduous project that must have been, but it is now the very lifeline of this city, and buried so deep that it is not vulnerable to foreign interference!"

He had learned much of Dalmasca, of the Light of Kiltia, and of the Royal Line of B'nargin, but his reading encompassed so much more. He knew of many villages in Nagxia, such as Dagluk and Bunlai; he knew that Bozja had been saved from a great calamity at the expense of Queen, which left that nation-state in the hands of an engorged nobility; he knew of Doma, a great power to the East, and its neighbors the Xaela who honed their warriors upon their Steppe; he knew that Hingashi lay beyond their shores, a jewel upon the ocean rivaled only by the rising power that was Thavnair in the West. He was enchanted by all such places, and by the differences in how their governments treated their own people: Dalmasca with equity, Nagxia with hospitality, Doma with honor, Hingashi with civility, the Steppe clans with brutal honesty, Bozja with temerity.

Iona would oblige him by listening at length to his ranting; there was ever a smile upon her lips, though at times this seemed more sardonic than genuinely mirthful. "Tell me more," she would say, or "Why is that?" With her permission in hand, he would launch himself down another avenue, falling silent only when they had pleasantries to exchange with friends or business to conduct with shopkeepers. Yet always, in the end, she would chide him with, "That's interesting, Hakan, but you really should brush up on your other subjects."

So it came to pass that – while Deiter built in him a strong foundation, Raif taught him to cook, and Elias showed him the streets – it was Iona who set the course of Hakan's extracurricular studies.

He obliged her with zeal, if only because the twins' smiles brought him the greatest joy. He set aside timelines and court cases for a time each sun to turn his mind's eye towards practical applications of mathematics, towards music's many forms and instruments, towards the aetherological field, and even towards that ghastly realm of "fiction," which he had come to understand as utter falsehood rather than the somewhat-historically grounded mythologies and legendariums. He learned something new each day, and he took pride in that. So too did Mister Lidenbok and the Kermanis.

On this day, however, he found their usual routine abruptly interrupted – while he'd paused to catch his breath – by the question, "Are you going to tell me about her?"

He turned to look at her. Iona did not meet his gaze at once; she was rocking back and forth on her feet, watching innocently as Nabkov the Bangaa, their usual supplier for cutlery, shuffled to and fro behind his counter to fill Raif's latest order.  This, Hakan was sure, was an affectation: Iona was far more mature than most children her age and usually comported herself that way. Her delayed glance, the raised eyebrow, and the way she uttered, "What?" were some sort of deliberately calculated ruse.

He adjusted how the strap of their satchel sat across his shoulder, crossed his arms, and leaned a few ilms away from Iona as he eyed her and asked, "Tell you about whom?"

"The woman you slept with, before you left your village," she said, before turning back towards the counter. "Oh, thank you, Nabkov, Baba will be delighted."

"His walnut stew is to die for," the Bangaa said, passing over the bundle, as Hakan struggled to find his voice while fighting off a fit of indignant outrage in the background. "This is the least I can do. Help keep him in business, so he can keep me coming back, eh? Ahahaha."

"I'll make sure he remembers to save you the usual table," she said with a brilliant smile. She slipped the bundle into their satchel and walked off. "Come on, Hakan, I want to reach the square before dark, find a good place to watch. I bet the foreigner's handsome."

He caught up to her in short order, pausing only to securely fasten the satchel's top flap. Falling back into step alongside her, his ears pressed back against his head, he scowled and said, "I will not."

Her smile had twisted into a mischievous rictus. Women are trouble, he thought.

"Why not? Elias has been dying to ask, Baba's too polite to press the matter but he's just as curious, and I need to know these things. How am I supposed to find you a lovely Viera lady if I don't know what you prefer? I don't need to know all the details, of course, you can leave out all the rutting, I know all about that."

He swatted her shoulder, and she let loose a peal of laughter which some might have mistaken for devious.

"I am not telling you about Soraya because it is personal," he said. This was a concept he was now thankful to have learned was common here in Rabanastre; back in the village and on the perimeter, nothing had been private.

"Oh? So her name's Soraya."

He ran a hand up into his hair and over one of his ears, frustrated with himself for the slip. Iona was nothing if not exasperating, especially when she was in the mood to rattle his cage, so to speak.

They reached the palace square in good time, bickering the whole way, only to find that the streets were packed save where the city guard had secured a wide lane for the dignitary's procession. Rather than force themselves into the crowd to stand elbow to elbow, where Hakan would surely need to boost Iona onto his shoulders to afford her a view, they decided to scale a stack of crates and an awning or two to reach a rooftop. There, they sat on the edge of a parapet, legs dangling over. Hakan set the satchel down, and Iona drew from it her sewing kit. She was in the habit of sewing when idle, and he knew that she meant to pass the time until the procession's arrival by working on a little tea coaster she'd started the week before.

"Listen," she was saying, "we worry about you. We’re happy that you’re happy, we are, it’s just… when Elias found you, and how hurt you were, and how little you knew… if… if you wanted to go back, or if there’s anything we can do to… I don’t know… help, then–"

He’d opened his mouth to respond to her, to tell her that there was no helping him, that the Green Word was law, that he had forever stained himself by breaking custom and violating tradition, when he was distracted by a very familiar voice, down below, muttering, “Pardon me.”

Startled, his ears swiveled at once to listen for more, and he leaned forward to scan the crowd which had gathered on the edge of the square. It was difficult, spotting anyone in that crowd which was a tangled mess of various hues of brown, red, green, and blue, but he heard something else: her voice again. He looked, and there he saw someone pushing her way through, someone whose dark curls peeked out from beneath her scarf–

"Hakan? Hakan, what’s the matter?"

"Stay here," he told Iona as he boosted himself up with his hands and pulled his feet under him. He stood up, flashed the girl a reassuring smile – she looked extremely confused – and then ran for the awnings, for the stack of crates which would see him safely back onto the street and into the square.

He ran to find Miriam Janeth, whom he had not seen in moons but had somehow come to occupy his waking dreams. He couldn’t have told you why he went, couldn’t have explained why his subconscious had latched onto her so, not back then. Later, he suspected that some part of him recognized the truth, saw the danger, but misinterpreted it as a second chance, a second Soraya.

Still: he, a grown man, left a young child alone in the city. On a rooftop, true, where she was mostly safe from harm, but that was little excuse for his callousness, his selfishness, and his negligence. 

[kiealer]

@likeadragcn asked:

"How curious, it seems there are still survivors on this pitiful rock. You pathetic mortals can't even die properly. How many of you are there left anyway? A mere hundreds? Less?" His question asked with a rather wicked and crooked grin. (the irony of all this, is the world had forgotten Goku NOT once, not TWICE but three times though once in this particular timeline cause they never got to Cell. Now that savior's body is doing what he was sent to do.)

Seeing his face again left her feelings of ambiguity.

The once familiar, perhaps even friendly, figure had now developed a rather sour association, the sight of him leaving her uneasy and even uncertain. His appearance now often brought about calamity along with him, wreaking havoc onto a land that did not deserve further destruction. Not only that, he deceived her, lulled her into a false sense of security before ripping her heart from its cage and crushing it within his palm. He was responsible for utmost misery and betrayal. Thus, he should have infuriated her. He should have brought her nothing but bitterness and animosity. Yet… that wasn't the case.

Memories of times past flash behind her eyes, returning her to moments of a pattering heart, filling with renewing hope. All the time spent with him was treasured. He had once been the source of those fresh feelings, offering a new avenue, even though it was nothing but a lie. That detail ought to have been the snapping straw, the final thread to break that would unleash her fury… but it simply wasn't. Those precious feelings remained present, apparently so wrapped around his very being that she couldn't untangle them. She wouldn't dare put a name to what she feels, far too fearful of the repercussions. After all that's happened, she wouldn't dare say it, let alone think it.

❝Shut up,❞ she snaps, the visceral response automatic and aggressive. Her hurt hangs heavy in her heart. ❝I don't want to hear that from you. You're the reason… you're the reason why we're in this situation in the first place!❞ A bright, orange blast zooms past him, just barely missing his face and disappearing into the distance behind him. The sight of his smile irked her. It boiled her blood, pumped her heart.

❝You're not getting away with this,❞ she vows, staring at him with strong intent. What she's referring to isn't specified, though the implication lies in something deeper than simply his rampage among the world. The beginnings of tears form within her bright blues. ❝I won't let you!❞

[wolint]

FRESH MANNA

GODLY SECURITY

Matthew 7:24-27

Security is the condition or quality of being secure, specifically the freedom from apprehension, anxiety, or care, the confidence of power or safety, assurance and certainty. It is the most coveted and most expensive thing that everybody longs for, unfortunately, it is the most elusive thing to attain.

We seek security from an investment portfolio for retirement plans and spend fortunes on home security systems, financial systems, personal security, and relationship security. Eventually, something comes along to threaten these security plans. Proverbs 18:10 says God is a place of protection and security, the strong tower, refuge, and the place of complete safety, but only for all that trust in him. A strong fortress that no one can breach.

The Bible teaches that we can trust God as our source of lasting security. We feel insecure when we suspect that relationships are not fully committed to as we want but in Christ, we have deeper security because His word is true and His love unconditional. Neither His word nor His love changes, especially as the conditions of our lives are unstable and stressful.

With so much change and instability in the world, how does our faith bring security?

There is a great reassuring love note from the Lord in Ephesians 3:14-21 to His children. As believers, we have received the resources and inner strength of Christ, who lives in our hearts through the Holy Spirit. God’s love is inexhaustible and wide enough to cover all of us, long enough to last into eternity, high enough to include our moments of greatest joys and triumphs, and deep enough to sustain us through our most overwhelming discouragement. So, when insecurity begins to crowd in, remember that God’s overwhelming love takes us beyond our deepest needs and greatest hope because when we build our lives on God’s truth, we have a solid foundation that will not crack under the world’s pressure according to Psalm 40:1-2.

Circular and worldly wisdom teaches that security is in having enough money to live comfortably, insurance to cover every calamity, and a home security system to ward off would-be vandals and thieves. These things are good but don’t bring real peace and security.

Peace according to Philippians 4:6-7, is another reason we should always pray.

We are secure only in Christ, we are undefeatable, and we can’t be conquered by any of the things we fear, see or unseen, as stated in Romans 8:37-39, nothing should shake our confident security in God.

When we feel anxiously insecure and fearful, that’s when we must remember the scriptural instruction to pray about everything and trust God to guard our hearts with supernatural and inexplicable peace.

We will know true security only when we build our lives on the rock-solid promises of Jesus Christ.

There comes a time in life when everyone faces insecurity about themselves or other areas of lives, when it does, before you go into panic mode remember that He alone can preserve you from the effect of sin, and worldly viruses to preserve us from falling into any kind of error that might be detrimental to our souls and to present us faultless according to Jude 1:24. Be assured in Christ for your security is of him!

PRAYER: Thank you Lord for being my security, I hide in you as my strong tower and I’m grateful that nothing can harm me in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Shalom

Women of light international prayer ministries.

[pastelsandpining]

My Only Wish (Naughty or Nice)

The fifth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​

Prompt List

Cover Art: coming soon!

Words: 2087

Summary: Zelda reads about a foreign holiday called Christmas and decides to bring to life one of the traditions for the other Champions. She’ll need a red suit and a bag of gifts, but luckily she knows just the person to pull off the holly, jolly Santa Claus.

BotW Pre-Calamity Zelink, not AoC related!

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist

Link was beginning to wonder if the pressure was getting to the princess. She was always pushing forwards in the face of adversity, but it wasn’t her frustration and sadness that made him believe she’d finally cracked. 

It was when they took up residence in her study and she whirled on him with a book in her hands about goddesses only knew what.

“I’ve conducted some research,” she began, which was not new to him but filled him with a sense of playful dread anyway, “regarding Hylia’s Day and other holidays we celebrate here in Hyrule. We know that culture and religion are the basis of all holidays, and the difference in what is celebrated and how stems from those traditions. I was curious about the world outside of Hyrule. I thought perhaps I could read something about their beliefs and traditions that could help me awaken my power, but I found a celebration that’s incredibly similar to ours.”

She dropped the book on her desk and cracked it open, beckoning for him to join her. He stepped over, standing close enough so that when he leaned forwards to join her over the pages of the book, he could smell the flowery scent of her hair. 

He couldn’t read anything on the page. Not when his attention was taken up entirely by her. So he listened to her speak again, following her fingers dancing along the page.

“A religion referred to as Christianity celebrates something called Christmas. For worshipers of the faith, this day is celebrated as the birth of their savior. But the holiday became something widely celebrated by people not of that faith. It became a day of giving gifts and spending time with family. People decorate with trees and lights and hold grand parties. And just like how Hylia brings joy and peace to families on Hylia’s Eve, they too have a figure that travels to every corner of the world, leaving gifts for the children! Multiple sources have claimed that this figure keeps a list sorting the children into categories—meaning whether or not they’ve been naughty in the past year, or nice. Naughty children are given coal, which is quite funny really. He goes by quite a bit of names, too. Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Saint Nicholas—but they’re essentially talking about the same figure.”

“There’s a lot of similarities,” Link agreed, glancing in her direction. 

“I know what you’re thinking. What does any of this have to do with the sealing power?” Her cheeks flushed, the pink tint reaching to the tips of her ears. “Well, ah… it doesn’t. But Hylia’s Day is coming up and… and everyone’s been so down and patience is wearing thin and I thought perhaps we could do something to cheer everyone up.”

He wasn’t sure what sort of unseen force compelled him to obey the princess. Yet he couldn’t even bring himself to think that the scheme she’d come up with was absurd. He’d follow her to the ends of Hyrule should she ask him to. 

It was why he wasn’t exactly surprised to find himself accompanying Zelda and a holly, jolly Daruk across Hyrule. Though he couldn’t believe the princess had actually crafted the entirety of Father Christmas’s red outfit.

“This Sandy Claws really doesn’t know fashion,” the Goron said, adjusting the hat upon his head. “The less restrictive the clothing, the better for movement.”

“You play the part very well,” Zelda assured, patting the towering boulder on the arm. “Besides, I read that he’s quite the eater. Children leave out cookies and milk for him, so perhaps you’ll get lucky tonight.”

“If the cookies are prime, crunchy rock, then I can hardly resist. Right, brother?”

Daruk slapped him on his back, sending Link tumbling forwards. Zelda’s arms caught him, and he was quick to regain his balance with the feeling that the Goron did that on purpose.

“Besides, we’re really only visiting the other Champions. I wish we could do more, but we’re lacking the magical sleigh that can travel at the speed of light,” Zelda spoke again, tapping away at the Sheikah Slate. 

“Santa leaving Santa a gift, huh?”

“Oh, Link already took care of that. You’re not allowed to open it until the morning.”

Daruk turned to look at him, surprised. Link only shrugged with a small, only slightly smug smile.

“I’m sneaky,” he said. The Goron laughed and Link took a step closer to Zelda to prevent being slapped on the back and sent tumbling off of Death Mountain.

“So what did you deem me?” Daruk asked, his hands resting on his hips to Link’s utter relief.

“Nice, of course,” Zelda replied with a pat to his arm. “I can’t think of anyone who might be classified as naughty.”

Link could think of one.

But he didn’t voice his opinion and instead shrugged in agreement, and the three of them were off to Zora’s Domain. He had to admit wearing the green of the mythical Santa’s Elves was an experience—he felt a sort of respect for the color. But it was nothing compared to how Zelda looked in her costume. She’d really gone all out for this, with a green little hat and all. It was cute, and admirable really, that she was willing to go so far to spread happiness. 

Happiness they desperately needed right now, with the Calamity looming ever above their heads and constricting them like a snake.

Anyway.

He supposed it would’ve been hard for anyone not to react upon seeing three oddly dressed individuals, Zora guardsmen included. But all the Princess of Hyrule had to do was smile and they let it go without question.

“What’s your ruling on Mipha, Father Christmas?” Zelda asked, lifting the Sheikah Slate.

“Nice,” Daruk decided, rather unsurprisingly. But Link nodded in agreement.

“Sidon too. Can’t leave something for Mipha and not her little brother,” he pointed out.

“I’m hurt you think I hadn’t considered that,” replied Zelda with a satisfied smile. “Alright, each package is specifically wrapped. Mipha gets the red box with the blue bow, and Sidon is the blue box with the red bow.”

Daruk swung the red sack from his shoulder and rummaged through it.

“You might have to do this one, tiny princess. Not sure how the big guy does it without waking anyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re more than capable! We’ll be right there with you,” Zelda encouraged, pulling something from the Sheikah Slate. “But if you feel you need it, I made an elixir that increases stealth.”

“What would we do without you?” 

The trip into Zora’s domain was relatively short after that. Zelda slipped into Mipha’s room to deliver the gift while Daruk and Link took care of Sidon, and she was pleased to know it’d been successful. Then, they were on their way to Gerudo for the next Champion. 

“Urbosa was incredibly hard to gift,” the princess said, thinking aloud. But Link was listening anyway, glancing over to her incase she decided to continue. 

“What did you end up getting her?” Daruk asked as he paused to rummage through the sack of presents. 

“Something of my mother’s,” Zelda replied simply, eyeing the small, wrapped box. “I think she would treasure it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips and Link felt his fingers twitch with the urge to take her hand. But she didn’t look sad. If anything, she looked comforted.

“You should deliver this one, Princess. I mean, Santa or not, Link and I can’t get into town,” Daruk pointed out. 

“I’ll be quick,” she promised before disappearing behind the walls of Gerudo Town. And while he knew she was safe there, he always felt an anxiety he couldn’t place.

“She’s real spirited,” said Daruk, nearly knocking Link over with his nudge. “It’s mighty kind of her to want to do this for us.”

“She wants to spread happiness,” he replied with a small shrug. 

“And is it working?” the Goron asked. Link didn’t answer, but he made a point to not look at Daruk and instead kept his gaze on the arching entrance to the town. A few minutes later, Zelda came back out and the group made their way to Hebra.

“Revali,” Zelda spoke, tapping at the slate. “What’s your ruling?”

“Naughty,” Link replied, without missing a beat. The Princess stared at him for a moment, then pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

“I don’t want to agree, but..” Daruk said, scratching his beard, “he did call me an ‘oversized pebble’.”

“Revali’s just..” 

“Mean,” Link input, cutting Zelda off without really intending to.

“I was going to say young.”

“Well, so are you and the little guy here!” Daruk argued.

“Revali is a strong personality, and the Rito are a proud people,” Zelda stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “It would be rather rude to gift everyone but him.”

“I thought Santa’s whole thing was rewarding the good and punishing the bad,” said Daruk.

“Yes, but Revali isn’t bad, per say. Besides, we didn’t bring any coal.”

“I live on a volcano.”

“..Daruk.. tell me you did not pack coal.”

“That would be a lie, tiny princess.”

It was Link’s turn to fight back a laugh this time, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep it contained.

“Well, I can’t exactly stop you. But be sure to leave the real present too!”

But Daruk had disappeared into Rito Village, leaving the elf-dressed duo behind.

“I still think Revali would be on the naughty list,” Link said with a shrug. Zelda gave him a playful shove.

“Be nice,” she reprimanded, shaking her head.

“Do you think it’s possible for Revali to be nice?”

“I— I refuse to speak ill about any of my Champions,” but she was smiling through her words and that was enough of an agreement for Link. “I do hope Daruk hurries. I’m not sure how long the stealth elixir will last.”

“I’m sure that would make for an interesting sight to wake up to.”

To that, she laughed. Maybe the best part of the night was getting to spend time with her outside of Calamity related business. It almost felt like they were friends.

And then Daruk was back, and the group got ready to part ways. 

“Thank you, Daruk. It was fun,” Zelda spoke, setting a hand on his arm.

“The fun’s not done just yet, tiny princess. I’ve got two more on the nice list to gift.” The Goron pulled two more wrapped gifts from his bag, handed one to each of them, then set off for Death Mountain with a wink.

Link looked at the gift in his hands, something a little heavy with a beautiful wrapping job that could only have been done by nimble fingers. He glanced up at Zelda, who seemed just as surprised. 

Well, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who snuck something into the bag.

“Um,” she spoke, fiddling with her unopened gift. “I just.. it’s nothing big, but I.. I thought you’d enjoy it and you’re a Champion as well..”

Oh, it was a cue. Link nodded once, then carefully unwrapped the rectangular object. What remained in his hands was a book, and a fairly thick one at that.

“I had to beg every chef I know to get the recipes,” Zelda said again, taking a slight step forward. “It contains food from Faron to Goron City, as much as I could find. I also threw in some older recipes I found in cookbooks in the library, but I’m not sure how good any of them are.”

“I.. thank you,” Link replied, because there was really nothing he could say. He looked up at Zelda and offered a small smile, even if it wouldn’t be enough. 

She ducked her head and started to open her own gift. As soon as the treat was revealed, he found it was his turn to nervously explain.

“I heard it’s your favorite. I, uh, scribbled down a recipe I found, so if it’s not good..”

But she was smiling at him, and his words died on his tongue.

“My mother used to make a fruitcake every Hylia’s Day,” she said, and before he could give an apology or say anything else, she was hugging him. “Thank you.”

When Link returned to his quarters for the rest of the night away, he fell asleep with one thought in his head.

One day, he would love to cook every recipe in that book for the Princess.

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Embracing The World: THE TWO ROSES OF THE EMERALD HILLS:

TOLERANCE AND DIALOGUE

Dialogue means the coming together of two or more people to discuss certain issues, and thus the forming of a bond between these people. In that respect, we can call dialogue an activity that has human beings at its axis. Undoubtedly, everyone is rewarded according to their sincerity and intention.

If people direct their actions with sincerity and with good intentions, then they may be winners even if others should consider them losers. The Prophet of God said: “Deeds are judged by intentions,”[1] and he emphasized that the intention of the believer is more important than the act itself. If the deed is founded upon good intentions, it will turn out well. So, whatever one may do, one must first be sincere in one’s intentions and seek the approval of God. Thus one should not ill-judge or slander the ties that are being established between various groups in the name of love, dialogue and tolerance.

Society cannot endure more tremors after having suffered so many wounds and after having been shaken so many times. If anti-democratic concentrations of power become the unshakeable burden of this nation and logic and judgment are supplanted through the power and means available to these concentrations, then this noble nation might not be able to recover again. As a result of such a calamity, this heaven-like land may be pushed 15 or 20 years back. It is possible that we might lose some things, that we might long for these lost things, even if they were to be among those things that we criticize today. In that respect, if we start our efforts for dialogue with the belief that “peace is better” (Al-Nisa 4:128), then we must demonstrate that we are on the side of peace at home and abroad. Indeed, peace is of the utmost importance to Islam; fighting and war are only secondary occurrences which are bound to specific reasons and conditions. In that respect, we can say that if an environment of peace where all can live in peace and security cannot be achieved in this land, then it would be impossible for us to do any good service for society or for humanity.

Misconceptions about Islam

If we approach the issue from a different perspective, Muslims have from time to time been misunderstood and as a result they have been subjected to pressure and insults. We have even witnessed Muslims being deprived of their most natural and basic rights, for example their right to work. This oppression that believing people has been subjected to is executed in the name of virtues, like humanism, human rights, generosity, love, and tolerance; these are in fact characteristics of Islam. Yet, it is these very characteristics and virtues that are being used against people who believe and these concepts are being exploited. Always there has been this basic attitude, an attitude that is subtle and deceitful, on the part of those who do not want to give room to Islam and Muslims to exist, either here or abroad. Things that have been claimed are not true; a Muslim can never be a bigot. Even if some people with such characteristics may have appeared within the Islamic community, it is unthinkable to conceive of all Muslims as being distanced from understanding and tolerance. Indeed, to this day what harm have the Muslims done and what evil have they committed and against whom? Despite their good intentions, some people have always been falsely stereotyped and have been weighed up on faulty scales; they have become the scapegoats for various accusations in the name of love, tolerance, freedom, and democracy. Despite being at the receiving end of all these false accusations, real Muslims never injure anyone and satisfy themselves merely by stating the fact that they are not the way they have been imputed to be. Still, a certain group has never ceased to attack them. Indeed, beauty has always sprung from the pure and blameless souls of the Muslims and the holy and exalted sources that are in their hands. It cannot be any other way; in the Qur’an, the Sunna, and in the pure and learned interpretations of the Great Scholars there is no trace of a decree or an attitude that is contrary to love, tolerance or dialogue in the sense of meeting with all, and declaring and expressing our emotions or thoughts. We cannot conceive of a religion that wills the good of all and who calls all—with no exception—to salvation, as being otherwise. The following verses in the Glorious Qur’an express this truth perfectly:

And if you behave tolerantly, overlook, and forgive, then verily God is Forgiving and Merciful. (at-Taghabun 64:14)

God does not forbid you, regarding those who did not fight you on account of religion and did not drive you out of your homes, to show kindness and deal with them justly. (Al-Mumtahana 60:8)

Tell those who believe to forgive those who do not look forward to the Days of God; in order that He may recompense each people according to what they have earned. (Al-Jathiya 45:14)

Indeed, when we look at the Qur’an we see that it is molded in love. In that respect, believing hearts must reclaim these beauties which are already ours, changing the negative image of Muslims. This negative image has been fed to the world and now we must once more communicate the essential facet of Islam to those who are presumed to be civilized, using the principle of “gentle persuasion.”

Let there be endless thanks to the Excellent Just One who feeds us with His bounty for the devotees of truth and heroes of love who have been carrying messages of love, tolerance and dialogue all over the world and who are trying to build the “new image of the Muslim” with hearts full of love.

Seeking the Approval of God

I would like to stress the fact that Muslims will lose nothing by employing dialogue, love, and tolerance. Muslims continuously seek the approval of God; this is the greatest gain of all. In that respect, things that may appear as losses to some people are seen as gains by Muslims, while certain other events may actually be detrimental even when they appear to be lucrative. Moreover, we have no doubts concerning Islam, its holy book the Qur’an or its most glorious representative, the Pride of Humanity, peace and blessings be upon him. We know that Islam will certainly continue on the path that leads to the future despite all obstacles; every subject of the Qur’an is proven by reason; it is a book that is strong enough to solve all the problems of the future. The Prince of the Prophets, a man about whom Bernard Shaw said, “He solves all problems the ease of drinking coffee,” was sent to humanity in order to present the solutions for all of its problems until Judgment Day. As in previous centuries, the problems of our age and the coming ages, which seem to be far removed from a sound solution, will be solved by the architects of hearts and mind who base their solutions on these holy sources.

Indeed, we do not need to have any worries as we believe that the illuminating expressions and statements of the Holy Qur’an and our Prophet offer lasting solutions to a myriad of problems. In my opinion, those who are equipped with these torches will suffer no loss, with the help and bounty of God, wherever they may go in the world and with whomever they may enter into dialogue. Thus, there is no cause for concern. The important fact here is that we should understand the sources that we possess, and we should employ them as necessary. Moreover, we should not abuse them by associating them with our own faults, our bodily or earthly desires. With their assistance and guidance we should seek only the approval of God and the afterlife.

Indeed, just as we have not even the slightest doubt concerning the Qur’an and the Prophet of God and just as we have no doubts concerning their justice, there is no reason why anyone should have doubts about us. But, if there still are some people who are frightened due to groundless fears, they will only be those people who are worried about the reliability of the dynamics and sources on which they rely.

[vividreminisce]

I Want - Chapter 1

Here’s the first chapter to my completed series, “I Want”. This was something that I had the inspiration to write last year and it did not let me go. I read so many stories from incredible authors in ao3 and I had the itch to had my own story into the many that were written about a special historian/scholar/leader.

I mentioned it in one of my posts that this series is currently completed on ao3 and if you liked this, don’t hesitate to hop over there to give it a read! It would mean the world to me if some people read this on Tumblr too as I feel that it gives people the privacy to put their thoughts and opinions privately, as I read in a post just very recently.

I am very new to posting anything on Tumblr, so I deeply apologize for making mistakes, either with the story or on the tags; I’m total baby with this, but I will do my best to learn!

Without further ado, below are the tags and below that is the actual story! Please enjoy! :D

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Series Summary: When was the last time that anyone thought of their wants? What happens when they realize them after it was almost too late?

A different approach to when the Warrior of Darkness and Crystal Exarch return to the Crystarium after the battle with the Ascian. Emotions run high from several days of healing and only having themselves to sort them out.

Chapter Summary: The battle has been won and now it is time to go home. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn, the Warrior of Darkness, A’viloh Entialpoh, and the Crystal Exarch prepare for the trek out back to the Crystarium. However, the Warrior asks something of the Exarch before they part, both unwilling to leave yet.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: G’raha Tia/Crystal Exarch x OC

Rating: Mature, SFW,

Writing Tags: Some depictions of medical procedures (not medically trained, so some facts will be medically wrong, but it’s all for the story), Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt, Healing, Comfort, Acceptance, Fluff.

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“G’raha… Hold on just a bit more, please….”

“We have made it this far… It would be… A disgrace to my people should their leader fall now…”

“...A disgrace… That is certainly one way to put it… It is not. You have… gone through much these last few days. We all have.”

Whether G’raha wanted to acknowledge those words, or simply make it seem like he did not hear from how quietly the Warrior spoke them, the brunette did not know. The little that he did at the moment was enough to keep him moving. Just like how Ardbert asked of him not too long ago.

He had defeated Hades.

The Crystal Exarch had been saved.

All of the Scions were alive.

And they were all on their way out of The Tempest.

Something curious made the Warrior almost falter: when having spoken the Exarch’s true name, he had shuddered, also losing momentum. His stance had closed, almost as if wanting to shield himself. Once he had noticed how far he was from the Warrior, he did his best to catch up, a slight limp in his step. The Warrior kept his attention elsewhere but took note of that strange happening, instead raising his head to where the surface could be seen. They only needed to climb to the water's edge and then, only then, could they be swept by the waters of Kholusia. At least, that was the theory.

“Follow my lead, Ryne. A’viloh, I expect that you will be the last to climb?”

“Yes. I will give everyone a boost. Please, keep the Exarch close to you.”

“Of course.”

“I… apologize for the burden--”

“We will have none of that, Exarch. Alisaie and I will be right behind you. You have been away from the Tower for too long. We will give you as much healing as we are able, we only ask that you keep moving forward.”

“I trust that you will keep your eyes where your hands lay, Urianger.”

“Of course, my lady.”

A’viloh couldn’t help the slight smile from appearing on his face at hearing his friends--his family--conversing normally. As if they did not just fell one akin to a god, the very same Ascian that was hellbent on making the Eighth Umbral Calamity happen in the Source. He knew that it wasn’t just for show. He could feel their nervous and grateful energy at being able to see the sky another day. It followed Alphinaud when his trembling hands grasped the strong rocks above him, lead Alisaie when she would ask the Exarch if he needed more healing magic, and stayed with Y’shtola when she kept her eyes on the calm waters looming closer. Ryne would glance down occasionally to see that everyone was clinging on with all of their might, and also to guide the Exarch’s hands to the right places. Thancred did not look their way once.

Once the Warrior saw Urianger’s hand reach the surface, he began his climb. His eyes never left the tower of rock in front of him as his mind wandered for a brief moment.

‘I musnt forget to write all of this in my journal…’

=====

His wounds were enough to keep him awake as he swam to the surface. He found Alphinaud’s face firmly planted on the wet sands of the beach, Alisaie shaking him vigorously.

“Alphinaud! For God's sakes…”

Brown eyes turned, next seeing Thancred patting the Exarch’s back as the latter tried to catch his breath. Ryne was instantly at the leader’s side, hand on his bloodied forearm as she quietly spoke to him. Y’shtola was at a distance, doing her best to wring out the water from her dress as it clung to her. Milky eyes locked with A’viloh’s, and judging from her expression, they found her target. She returned to her task of unsticking her dress from her skin, a faint smile on her pale lips.

A’viloh nodded to each head and frowned when he saw that they were one short. Honey and caramel eyes surveyed the land in front of him until they found their goal and slowly swam to the dead-fished Astrologian.

“A’viloh! There you are! Oh, and Urianger too! Is… Is he breathing…?”

Once A’viloh had gotten the weary Elezen to his feet did the Oracle of Light get an answer.

“T… T’would seem that… those lessons… mayhap would have…”

“He will be fine, Ryne,” A’viloh reassured. “How do you all fare…?” he asked, keeping Urianger steady. Strong hands gently patted the Elezen’s back until his breathing had gone steady. Tired amber eyes gave their thanks to the dark knight, nodding in reassurance.

“Aside from my aching back and Ryne’s dress being in tatters, I do believe that we are quite alive.”

A’viloh turned to the twins, Alisaie finally getting her brother up. Alphinaud’s hands went to his face and started to rub all the sand off his red cheeks, a tear or two coming down from how irritated his eyes were. He could read the twin’s lips, the poor Leveilleur cursing the saltiness of the sea. Alisaie sighed deeply and gave her brother’s back one last smack before affirming that they were alright as well.

Thancred turned to regard the leader of the Crystarium. Anyone with eyes could see that he wasn’t doing well and needed to get back to the Tower. Immediately. Gray hues tried to search for the Allagan ones, but the Exarch wouldn’t lift his head. It wasn’t until Thancred stepped closer that he could hear the rasped breathing from the leader.

The gunbreaker took another step, voice hushed as he bent down slightly. “Exarch, we are a bit far from the nearest Amarokeeper and it would not do for you to collapse now. I must ask that you get on my back, I have the strength to carry you.”

Despite his hushed voice, The Warrior of Darkness overhead his words and turned his head, fully expecting the leader to take the offer. Instead, his expression grew dark when he saw the opposite. The Exarch’s normally relaxed posture was more reclusive, trembling hands slowly wrangling in what A’viloh could only guess was nervousness. Faded ears were pinned, and if a tail could be present, he imagined it would either be curled up around one of his injured legs or between them. He saw the Exarch take two deep breaths and finally lift his head.

Allagan red pierced into the Scion’s stern ones, making them go wide. “It is true that my distance from the Tower has depleted my strength. However, if I am to return to my people, it will be by my own two feet. I need only take a bit more time to arrive.”

Thancred strengthened up, and if it had been any other situation, he would have commented on the Exarch’s stubbornness. But now was not the time nor was he in the mood to argue.

The Warrior kept his smile away at the remnants of his old friend appearing, however, it would only get them so far, no pun intended. He stepped to the Exarch’s left, the leader acknowledging him only by turning slightly in his direction. Placing his hand on the leader’s forearm, he gazed in the direction of the nearest civilization, his plan coming forward.

“Thancred, would it be too much trouble for you and Ryne to head to Wright and procure us some Amaros?” He turned his head head at the sound of footsteps, calculating, but kind eyes focusing on one of the twins, giving the next part of his plan. “Alphinaud, how do you fare with going to the Crystarium with Alisaie?”

The young Elezen tilted his head to the side, the salt water finally leaving his ears after giving them a few pats. He tried to follow the Warrior’s train of thought, but couldn’t figure out where it was heading. “We can make it, but… may I ask why just us two?”

A misstep in his plan; of course it wasn’t just those two that should go. With an apologetic smile, he answered. “My apologies. Please, inform Lyna that we are on our way back home. She will feel more at ease in seeing you both first. Knowing the Captain, she will start to prepare for our recuperation And…  I have a feeling that she has people waiting at all entrances for our return, so you will not have to travel far to find her. Y’shtola, Urianger, with that being said, if you are able, inform Chessamile of the number of beds that needs be prepared. Our wounds are severe, but not life threatening.”

Alisaie blinked at how easily the instructions came from her friend. How long did it take for him to think this all through? She couldn’t help herself in voicing those thoughts, adding a bit of her spark as she crossed her soaked arms. “We have barely left you alone, how have you come up with this plan? Now that your soul is complete again, did it change you to start barking orders?” She meant well, giving the Warrior an easy smile. Tired as he was, she shouldn’t have been too surprised; he always was one to put people first.

“Bark is one way of putting it, yes… Mayhaps your soul should break once or twice to bring you down to size…” came Y’shtola’s sly comment, thankfully only amused by her friend’s orders. Should she have been miffed by him… A’viloh couldn’t help himself in giving his fellow miqo’te a nervous smile, thinking it better to explain himself before others start bringing in their input. He looked up to the sky, his smile more natural on his lips. The sky… it might be a different sky from being in a different land, but it looked just like the one in the Source. Red hues mixing with now natural gold, the gentle blue fading away, the clouds forming shapes that he wished he could just lay down and pay attention to.

But not now. He was thinking too much now. There was too much to do, and he was thinking too quickly.

“Change me, no… But my thoughts are much clearer. That was quite a climb we had, and it made me think of what needs to be done for now” His eyes closed at that. Six beds, bandages and gauze, plenty of alcohol, healers to close the wounds once disinfected--

He turned his head towards Alisaie’s direction, mismatched brown opening to regard her with warmth. “It is much easier to think about my family and what they need. We are almost done, we need just one last push. We do not have much time to waste, and we must act quickly and efficiently. I will join the Exarch at his pace in going back to the Crystariym. Worry not, I will see that we make it back home in one piece.” A’viloh nodded, his eyes landing on each of his friends and taking into account their wounds.

Alphinaud still had salt in his eyes and his ears were a bit red from the water. His clothes were in tatters and he could see a deep bruise appearing on his side, along with some dry blood on his hands. Alisaie had a cut on her cheek and her hair was coming undone. The Warrior didn’t want to look too far down without her knowing, but he could see quite a bit of bruises on her legs as well as how she leaned her weight to her left leg. He already knew that Y’shtola’s back was bruised, and while she tried to hide her short breathing, he had a feeling that one of her ribs was broken. Urianger did his best to appear in his five senses, but from how unfocused his eyes were at times, he must have had a concussion. His clothes weren’t faring any better, cuts and bruises trailing down. Poor Ryne’s dress was indeed in tatters, her shoulders now bare and her boots only holding up by strap or two. Her hands trembled under the sleeves and she grasped them lightly at times. The ribbon in her hair was long gone, and he could see how she tried to bring her hair back now and then. Her white dress didn’t hide the bruises and cuts on her arms, and he dare not think of how her ankles were doing from how the mixture of blood and salt stayed on them. Thancred’s armor had thankfully protected him through most of the blows, just some scratches here and there, but A’viloh knew that he had a few broken bones. Was that a broken finger…?

And the Exarch… G’raha…

It wasn’t that A’viloh didn’t want to pay attention to him. Far from it. However, he knew that the moment he did, he would focus on nothing more. G’raha… his friend… He was here… He was safe. And he was right next to A’viloh. From the little he could see from the corner of his eye, making sure that he was looking straight to the Scions, G’raha was looking up at him. Making what kind of expression, he did not know. But Y’shtola could see it full well. A’viloh tried to read her expression, but she was as unreadable as her eyes. And she made sure to keep it that way. Her milky hues shifted to A’viloh’s, keeping her voice steady.

“Urianger and I will inform the chirurgeons on what needs be prepared. As you say, we must act quickly and effectively. I will assume that no one has any objections?”

Thancred was already on the move with Ryne right behind him, the young hume having given a bit of healing to the Exarch before patting his arm and walking quickly to catch up. The gunbreaker just wanted to scrub his damn armor clean, the tainted aether reminding him too much of his time with Lahabrea. He welcomed the young girl to his side, her pure aether keeping him focused.

Alphinaud was following the gunbreaker at his own pace, speaking quietly with Alisaie as to what should be said once they arrive. Much had happened, and much more had to be kept secret, else the city would be overcome with worry. He gave his arm to his sister, who swatted it away… until she realized that she would be walking too slowly for her own comfort, and promptly wrangled him back so that he would walk at her pace. And she made damn sure to place almost all of her weight on him, her twin smiling at her antics. Y’shtola had wrapped an arm around Urianger’s as well, carefully guiding him towards the right path to Wright. The astrologian was more than willing to follow in her footsteps, although surprised by her initiative. It was not too long ago that she regarded him with scorn from how much he kept hidden from her. He knew that it would take her some time to forgive, and knew even more that she would never forget.

“...Warrior.”

A’viloh jumped at being called; he could no longer keep his gaze forward. He had given enough reason for the Scions to leave them be. They knew that there was much that the Exarch and him needed to speak about, and while now was not the time, they could still be near each other. He looked down at the leader who had not left his side. The same one that still let his hand rest on the one arm that was still made of flesh. G’raha’s gazed up at A’viloh, searching for something that A’viloh did not know of. There was still so much that he didn’t know, and more that he could if he just really put his mind to it. But now was not the time. He wanted to--

“You referred… to the Crystarium as your home. Do you truly see it that way…?”

‘Is it our home…? It is the home to many… It is… my home at the moment…’ A’viloh thought. He focused on the hand that was on the Exarch’s arm, becoming aware of how little warmth it emanated. More than that, he could see goosebumps appearing. ‘He’s freezing… ‘

“...It is my home.” A’viloh finally answered. He gazed deeply into those Allagan eyes, searching just as much as G’raha did. The leader stayed silent for a few beats, his rasped breathing along with the gentle tide of the sea being the only noise. He seemed to have found his answer--or at least was content enough with what he saw--and smiled tiredly, speaking loud enough to be heard above the waves.

“...Full glad am I to hear that. Should the people of the Crystarium know, they will be filled with joy.”

A’viloh’s tore his eyes away, trying to keep them on the faraway village. There was so much to speak about, so much that they needed to get straightened out. So much that he wanted to say.

Once they were well, talking could happen. He put his other hand on G’raha’s crystal arm, almost pulling away from how faint the aether was. It was even colder, A’viloh frowning from the temperature.

“Full glad will your people be when they see you back” Gaze flicking to the faded ears of the leader, he questioned. “How would you like to see them?” As much as he expected to know the answer, he didn’t, nor did he want to assume.

G’raha’s eyes went wide at the question, realizing the situation. It was true that no one had seen him without his cowl, this being the first time in… well, ever. However, so much had happened, and so many questions would arise. Nerves began to come up, his ears flicking back as he gazed down at the Warrior’s boots.

A’viloh found his answer then. His lips pulled up into a half smile, looking over at his hand. The leader… he was incredibly expressive. The Warrior couldn’t believe how blind he has been for so long to not see how expressive he was. He felt the slight trembles of G’raha’s cold arms and gave them a light squeeze. G’raha instinctually looked up from the movement and found himself less than a fulm away from the Warrior. He saw how clear A’viloh’s eyes were, but more than that, how different they were. One darker than the other, both watched him with warmth and understanding.

So, so much warmth, and understanding. How he relished in the feeling after the last few days they all had.

“I am not sure how you lasted so long with your ears down. Pulling the cowl up, is that all I need to do?” came the question, both hands lightly grasping the base of said item.

It wasn’t just the distance from the Tower that made his blood run cold. His cowl. The item that he hid behind for so long and needed to go back into. It was his symbol, along with his staff. That was how everyone in the Crystarium, no, all of the First, saw him with. The Crystal Exarch was a mysterious man whom no one knew where he came from or how he looked like underneath the hood. He gave, he helped, and he lead. That was his role, and that was all he could ever be.

A’viloh’s brows furrowed at G’raha’s expression. He was shaking harder, eyes wide and… resigned. They were tired. So, so very tired.

…Ah, he knew that look too. He knew it very well.

At least, he thought he did. And he hoped that he was saying something close to what his friend wanted to hear. “...You do not need to keep it up. Not with me.” His hands left the hood, placing them on his friend’s shaking shoulders and giving them another squeeze. They came down slightly, having tensed up from the question.

Keeping his hood down with the Warrior. Keeping his hood down… 

What a wonderful dream that would be.

A’viloh lightly placed a hand on G’raha’s head, gauging how familiar he could be with the leader. G’raha jumped but said nothing, looking up at him from beneath his lashed. This was good enough.

“You will keep your cowl down when you are ready. Do not worry about your people, they will wait as much as they need to to see their beacon’s face.” He slowly spread his hand wide open, thumb and pinky slightly touching the base of his ears. G’raha’s breath hitched at the intimate action, his ears plastering to his head and the Warrior took that chance to carefully pull the cowl over G’raha’s head. His hand swiftly pulled away, bringing down the hood a bit more before keeping his hands to himself. The magicks in the hood worked immediately, only the leader’s bottom half of his face being seen. Despite that, A’viloh could feel the shock emanating from G’raha, and how he wanted to say something, but the Warrior was already onto the next step.

With his back to the leader, he kneeled as he spoke quickly, getting the next words out before his own nerves got the better of him. They needed to get going, just now remembering the fatal wound that the leader had on his back. How he was still standing, A’viloh had no idea.

“There is much that needs to be discussed, and I would love nothing more than to speak with you in private, just as… we would in the past.” He faltered at the end, his heart tugging at the lie.

‘It isn’t entirely a lie.’ That faint, murky voice dwelling deep in his soul reassured. Ah, there was Esteem. He had been ominously quiet during his time in Amaurot, though his presence was clearly there when fighting Hades. A’viloh was starting to worry when he could barely feel him at the end, thinking that the immense light might have done something (he wouldn’t say extinguish, but when dealing with a deadly essence that was the exact opposite of them, he could never be too careful). The dull worry in his mind lessened, acknowledging his words as relief flooded in.

No, they did not speak as much when they were at the Source, far less from all of the light that the Warrior had for so long. But now that it was gone, they should be more active...right?

Continuing, the Warrior did not spare a glance at G’raha. That word, beacon… It was one that he had not heard in a long time. Did it have the same effect on his friend as how it did for him all those years ago? “And talk we will. Once we get back to the Crystarium, and get better, we will talk. You have more days to live and now, you can decide how you would like to live them. I know that you said that you can walk on your own but… please, let me help you. Here, and back home.” When he heard no response, he willed himself to turn his head. G’raha stood there, not having moved an inch. Face still obscured, his mouth was agape and looking much paler than he was minutes ago.

Were his lungs devoid of air because of physical reasons or from the Warrior’s words? Most likely both. Talk, back home, help… They could go back home and they could talk. They could be in the same room and talk, or just, just be. Oh how he wanted that. How he yearned for that.

Taking a shaky step forward, he hadn’t raised his foot high enough, gripping at air when he began to fall but the Warrior rose quickly to catch him. He landed steadily on A’viloh’s back, his arms being brought around the Warrior’s neck. As his legs were hooked, he involuntarily melted onto the Warrior’s strong back. Turning his face to the left, his hood kept jabbing into this skin, and the Warrior’s, but they made no mention. Instead, they kept going, the wind keeping him awake enough as the tiredness started to settle in.

A’viloh thanked his lucky stars at how well that went, knowing that if they had not intervened, they would have continued to talk and G’raha would have undoubtedly collapsed, making it much harder to transport them both. Once he settled into a steady rhythm, he spoke again, volume high enough to get his friend’s attention.

“When we get back, would you like for the people at the Spagyrics to treat you or myself?”

‘What of your wounds?’ he questioned in his mind. Opening his mouth, he tried to voice them, taking several tries to get the words out. So tired… so sore… 

“I will be fine. I will treat myself as well, don’t worry.”

“I… I know you… Warrior… You will… put… me above yourself…” He rasped out, his throat starting to burn. The wound on his back ached, making him curl up slightly from the movement. A’viloh took note of that and did his best to control his walk, still moving quickly but with less movement. His calves were cramping up, his back shooting up with pain along with his arms but he kept going, bending down more to bring the leader higher on his back. He apologized from how much skin he was making G’raha show and continued on, his space slightly quicker.

“I promise to take care of myself too. If I am not well, how can I take care of you?” He could see Wright in the distance, though still far away. Just a bit more…

“So please… Let me heal you. If I mend you, it will be easier to keep your physical self hidden from your people, if that is your wish. Whatever I cannot mend, I will learn how to.” He didn’t hide his desperation as he kept his brisk walk. The aether in G’raha started to wane, panic consuming some of his thought process.

He would not let himself be denied. Not again. Silver flashed in his mind, the sunset behind him reminding him of that terrible day. Not again, not again, not again--

“Who am I to deny such a request… As if… as if I could deny…” G’raha’s speech slurred, unable to keep his eyes open. His consciousness was fading, the dead trees and land melting altogether.

A’viloh felt G’raha’s hands slip, now running to the Amaro porter where Thancred and Ryne were thankfully waiting for them, the rest already for the Crystarium. As carefully as he could, he settled his unconscious friend in the front and prayed with all his might that he wasn’t too late.

[katzenkrieg]

Headcanon: Cam’s Physical and Mental/Aetheric Changes from pre-ARR through post-5.3

“What should I do today?” I wonder to myself. “I think I’ll stay on task and be produc--no, wait, now I’m writing a six-page overview of all the changes Cam’s experienced over the entirety of his story so far. Hm.”

Spoilers for everything through 5.3; Cam’s full lore document is here. It is currently 103 pages long. No regerts.

Physical and Mental/Aetheric Changes (A Rough Timeline):

The Battle of Carteneau begins - has first Echo flash (doesn’t remember it later)

The Battle of Carteneau ends - while knocked unconscious, has his face permanently tattooed by an experimental Garlean prisoner-of-war-marking device. The device is faulty, and also inflicts electrical damage that leaves Cam permanently mute.

The Calamity takes place and resolves - along with everyone else on the Source, Cam is assumed to have Rejoined with the shard of his shared soul that lived in whichever world was destroyed during the Calamity. The Rejoining took place across the rift/Lifestream, so no memories accompany the Rejoining, though it does increase soul density.

Regularly following the Battle of Carteneau to the present day - has Echo flashes, painful pseudo-blackouts during which he experiences the memories of others. He can’t predict when these will happen or will them to happen; though they can be useful, they’re also a serious liability, since they can (and do) occur in the middle of battle. The Echo also allows him to understand all spoken languages and to be understood when speaking (or, in his case, signing).

5 years after Carteneau, when he arrives in Gridania - first hears Hydaelyn’s voice and sees her in visions. It’s possible he’s Tempered by Hydaelyn at this time, giving him resistance to Tempering by other primals. Sporadically hears and has visions of Hydaelyn from that time to the present day.

Before the final battle with Gaius and the Ultima Weapon - receives the full Blessing of Light. Provides him with some protection against Ascian influence and allows him to summon a weapon of Light at pivotal moments, particularly when necessary to destroy Ascians.

After fighting Midgardsormr - loses the Blessing of Light, apparently due to Midgardsormr’s interference or in response to a bargain struck between Midgardsormr and Hydaelyn. His ability to hear Hydaelyn and call on the Blessing weakens; in particular, he no longer has unique protection against and the ability to destroy Ascians. He’s still able to be understood and to understand others, though, and still has Echo flashes.

Over the course of his time in Ishgard - regains the Blessing of Light.

During his final confrontations with both Thordan VII and Nidhogg - channels the power of both an eye of Nidhogg and an eye of Hraesvelgr. Doesn’t seem to be permanently influenced by either of these experiences, but it’s always possible something will show up in the future.

During his time in the First, prior to the defeat of Emet-Selch/Hades - absorbs the Light of five Lightwardens. Each absorption further disrupts his aether; to people with the ability to see aether, his looks exactly like that of a Lightwarden, even prior to his absorbing the Light of all five. Begins to experience brief painful convulsions during which he emits Light aether and has his vision blurred by Light. Following the absorption of Innocence/Vauthry’s Light energy, he loses control over the Light energy within him and becomes, for all intents and purposes, a Lightwarden in everything but appearance. 

He immediately begins to regain his voice, although it’s no longer one that’s recognizably human--it sounds almost metallic, extremely precise and clear, and seems to come from all directions at once.

Over the next few weeks, his new voice strengthens and sin eater growth forms around his throat; it replaces his damaged voice box. 

Regularly coughs up white ichor.

His hair begins to bleach to white.

His facial tattoos also begin to bleach, turning a very light gold/yellow.

His eye color begins to deepen to a truer red. 

White scar-like lines appear leading down from the sin eater growth at his throat straight down his sternum to the base of his ribcage, horizontally across the base of his ribcage, and across the top of his collarbones. These lines become more distinct over time and a recession starts to appear in the middle of each, as though the skin there is receding/pulling apart.

He begins to develop sharp downwards-pointing scale-like growth lining his throat, similar to pharyngeal teeth in some predators. 

His vision is permanently washed-out by Light and increasingly colorless. 

Any clothes he wears or objects he has on his person regularly also begin to bleach out to shades of white and gold. 

About a week into being a Lightwarden- he collapses during the Scions’ undersea search for Emet-Selch and almost loses control to the point of transforming. Fortunately, he has enough time to call on Feo Ul out of desperation; they answer and inform the Scions that Cam’s starving--he now requires living aether to survive. If he goes without living aether too long, he’ll collapse and transform; with living aether, he may be able to hold out longer against transformation. Feo Ul channels enough aether to Cam that he’s able to recover.

Following his first collapse from aether starvation - at least one aether-rich being stays near Cam (preferably touching him) at all times. Feo Ul, Midgardsormr, Shanoa, and Mochi (his Fat/ter Cat) all help by playing this roll in turns--usually by riding on his shoulder or on top of his pack. Ardbert also offers aether. At night, all of them (including Ardbert) sleep either next to him or curled up on top of him, feeding him aether throughout the night. 

By the time they reach Amaurot - even the combined efforts of the beings feeding him aether are becoming stretched, and Cam has begun to catch himself viewing living things (especially anything very small, like the tidepool invertebrates the Tempest is full of) as food/prey. 

After entering Amaurot - the nature of Amaurot and Emet-Selch’s power there prevents any of the aether-rich beings who’ve been helping Cam from entering the city; only Ardbert is able to accompany Cam into Amaurot. His time in the city is marked by increasingly desperate hunger, to the point that he *does* eat some small creatures alive (but magically stunned) to see if that helps. It does, but only a tiny amount. He tries to conceal all of this from the other Scions. (Cam’s about as sneaky as a box of rocks falling on your head, so this doesn’t work very well.)

During the confrontation with Emet-Selch - loses control entirely and collapses, coughing up ichor, and beginning his final transformation into a sin eater. Ardbert offers to Rejoin with Cam, and Cam accepts, giving them both enough aether and a strong enough Rejoined soul to channel the Light aether within them into a weapon of Light and wipe out Hades.

Immediately following Hades’ defeat - having used the weapon of Light, he appears completely purged of excess Light energy and almost all of his Lightwarden transformations have disappeared, except the mutation around his throat and his sin eater voice. His hair color and tattoos remained bleached; his eyes have returned to their normal color.

After returning to the Source (but before the other Scions are able to return) - 

His hair begins to grow back in darker, eventually darkening to his usual black with blue highlights.

His facial tattoos gradually return to black.

Over the course of several weeks, he weakens again, similarly to, though not as severely as, he weakened due to aether hunger in the First. He returns to the Source briefly to consult Y’shtola, the Exarch, and Urianger about this; they confirm that, contrary to their original impressions right after the fight with Hades, his aether is still over-aspected to Light and it seems as though he still retains some need for living aether. He’s no longer at risk of transforming into anything if he ‘goes hungry,’ but he will eventually weaken and possibly eventually fall into a coma. 

Feo Ul, Midgardsormr, Shanoa, and Mochi all again take up the responsibility of making sure to feed him enough aether that the aether hunger doesn’t affect him; this is much, much easier than before, and he really only needs a small aether infusion each day. The cats, in particular, are around him enough anyway that he rarely notices any deprivation. 

Krile also suggests he and Cid (or other researchers/scientists) find a way to cultivate an extremely aether-rich phytoplankton that’s native to oceans in the Source and make sure Cam keeps several vials of water infused with them on his person at all times, on the off-chance he’s isolated somewhere where Feo Ul, Midgardsormr, Shanao, and Mochi aren’t able to reach him. The idea is a successful one, and he carries this solution with him, in magical suspension so the phytoplankton stay alive, at all times.

His voice remains inhuman and disturbing, and the sin eater growth around his throat proves to be permanent.

Cid adapts an ancient Allagan caster’s torque so that it modifies Cam’s voice into something comfortably human. Cam starts wearing the torque at all times.

Cam has continuous (often several times a day) painful Echo-like flashes from Ardbert’s memories. He assumes (correctly) that this is a result of Rejoining with Ardbert, and just accepts that they’re a handicap he has to deal with and that they may never go away (though he’s concerned that they may mean Ardbert’s soul hasn’t completely Rejoined with his and is in pain).

He has night terrors and intense nightmares, most of them containing flashbacks of either Ardbert’s traumatic memories (particularly his own suicide and that of his friends’ and his time spent alone as a lost spirit) or the moments Cam came closest to transforming into a Lightwarden.

He discovers he can now fight using the great axe and a marauder/warrior style, despite never having trained with/in these.

He finds that he’s more apt to speak (though he still usually signs out of habit and preference, especially before Cid develops the torque that modifies his voice); Ardbert had no experience ever being unable to speak, and this affects Cam’s own tendencies. 

He’s now amazingly good with animals. He was never bad with them before, but he’s incredibly good with riding animals and sometimes even wild animals now, and can calm them remarkably effectively and quickly. This is, again, based on Ardbert’s own talents and life experiences.

After defeating Elidibus and being exposed to Azem’s memory stone:

The painful Echo flashes of Ardbert’s memories disappear, and Cam and Ardbert finally integrate completely. Memories from part of his soul’s time as Ardbert are all there for Cam to access, but they’re comfortably distant and don’t conflict with or disrupt his memories of his life as just Cam or his life after Rejoining; they usually come up to the surface when he needs them or when he runs into something in particular that reminds him of something specific from that time (sense memories, in particular, will trigger for him now and then). He’s able to navigate the First as though he’s lived there for years, and knows a lot more than people who don’t know about his Rejoining think could be possible about the world before the flood of Light.

His night terrors and nightmares become less frequent and severe, though they don’t entirely go away.

He remembers anything that involved Cam and Ardbert being in the same place at the same time from both sides, which *can* be a bit disorienting. One reliable way to make Cam blush is to ask about what that’s like and how much he remembers in that way--since he and Ardbert had developed a sexual/romantic relationship as time went on in the First (which obviously required quite a bit of creativity), he has some two-perspective memories that he’s never going to describe to anyone, thanks.

People ask if it feels like he’s two people or if Ardbert’s still there within him as a separate entity. Cam has yet to successfully explain to anyone, but to him it feels like he’s just always been one person--just occasionally that one person was in two places at once. He also thinks this should feel weird, and like it somehow invalidates his being Cam or Ardbert’s being Ardbert, but it doesn’t. It just feels natural.

Cam’s aether’s settled even more into a proper stable integrated state, more so than it’s ever been post-Lightwarden and post-Rejoining. It’s also more intense and slightly denser, even considering his Rejoining. Y’shtola and Urianger have concluded this, and the complete integration of Ardbert’s soul and memories, must be a result of Cam’s experience with Azem’s memory stone.

He still retains some aether hunger, but it’s extremely slight and even the normal level of exposure to arcanic or aether-rich entities that comes from going about an average day means he rarely even notices it.

His voice, even without the torque, still sounds recognizably inhuman but also less alien. He’s comfortable using his voice unmodified now in certain situations (especially if he needs projection or needs to be heard through a lot of other noise/chaos). The sin eater growth hasn’t changed.

He’s grown several inches. Fortunately, this growth spurt stopped after a few months and doesn’t show any signs of returning. It does mean he went without any clothes or armor that fit properly for a while :| Again, everyone assumes this was a result of exposure to Azem’s memory stone. Cam’s just grateful he hasn’t ended up 15 feet tall…

His hair started to grow in a different color again--this time yellow and orange. At this point, Cam’s just like, “oh, fuck it, who cares anymore” about changing coloration occasionally. This is likely another result of exposure to Azem’s memory stone; Cam’s body seems to have shifted slightly to reflect some of what the Scions assume was Azem’s appearance.

His facial tattoos have also lightened back to light gold/yellow, though they’ll shift rather startlingly to an intense light blue from time to time--sometimes quickly and briefly and sometimes fading into the color and back over the course of days. Nero’s posited that it’s related to aether conditions, either externally or internally, or possibly due to the interplay of both external and internal conditions, but, as usual, no one’s letting him test this theory out by exposing Cam to aetherical extremes. No fun.

After having it pointed out to him that tattoos aren’t *actually* part of someone’s living body and they really shouldn’t be able to change with him like that, Cam’s grudgingly accepted that they’re probably part of him and not just ink scarring his skin any longer. Urianger has also untactfully pointed out that they look remarkably like Ascian projection markings or possibly Amaurotine mask markings, and Cam gave him enough of a look that Urianger shut up. 

Cam can call up a glamour to make both his hair and facial tattoos appear their original colors if he wants to; he can’t do much about the height change, though.

Cam’s sure he’s not Azem, despite the physical changes; the memory stone gave him some general vague feelings about Azem’s existence and nature, but nothing specific. Overall, what he felt from it was rock-solid reassurance that no matter what changed in the future, his life was his own and not Azem’s and that he could be absolutely confident in that. It also seems to have, as mentioned above, strengthened his aetherical integration and smoothed over all of the cracks both becoming a Lightwarden and Rejoining left in his aether and identity.

Experientially, Cam is now the second oldest Scion, behind G’raha Tia. Ardbert was likely in his 20s and Cam is 35 at the end of Shadowbringers; Ardbert also spent a century as a wandering ghost. This brings Cam up to around 160 years old -- 60 if you don’t count Ardbert’s time after death. Thancred is very pleased not to have to deal with being the ‘old man’ of the Scions any longer, now that Cam and G’raha have taken that title and run off with it by centuries. Cid now occasionally emphasizes the ‘old’ when he calls Cam ‘old friend,’ if he really wants to give Cam shit.

[empressxmachina]

It might have been his allegiance to Viridian, but Jasper’s urge to scope out any competition was too strong to let go.

The King’s Citadel, as its splinter of a sign barely reflected onto his vamps, fit its name to a T. Fortified with stone on all sides. Blocky with the occasional spire for decoration. A style almost indistinguishable from visions of Earth centuries past. The width of an entire city block on its own. Its ‘vintage in the best way’ aesthetic was something to be marveled, and with the fencing and banners announcing its temporary closure for renovation in the not-so-far future, there was plenty of work its staff put into keeping it up, and plenty of patrons were taking their time to enjoy it in its present state while they could.

Viridian didn’t display an establishment date here – for a myriad of reasons, choosing one would be complicated – but in this town, as far as what the details listed, claiming it to have been created more recently seemed reasonable. Because of that and its hidden intricacies, despite the brutally exclusive rules for entry, there were many new, once Citadel-centered eyes on the emerald tower. Still, the vacancies of the hoarier fortress were slim, mostly collected at the top in the more expensive sections. But who was to say those dark rooms weren’t just smarter souls hiding away, as Jasper bent down and ran a hand down one of its sides, presenting himself to the skies and humming as he felt the ridges of each window on his finger pads?

Erin, besides having strained to not stain her dress and her chair from Jasper’s destructive sashaying away, surprised herself in how quickly and how much his spiker scolding was taken to heart. His honeyed words sweetened the appeal of the drink au naturel, but there was no way she could down her glass now and not feel bad as the additive had ultimately completed dissolving. So, what was she to do?

The only solace in sight was to dump the drink and start anew. But, to do so, Erin would have to go inside and find a drain. Throwing it off the balcony was the first thought that came to mind. However, with Viridian’s conic shape, it’d probably just end up back on a window, and she couldn’t bear to mess it up from pettiness. The same would go for letting it drip onto the floor: a mess for the all-seeing staff to clean later. Thus, all she could do was go inside… and hope a certain host wouldn’t notice her brief absence.

Erin, to the best of her ability, ascended from the chair, adjusting her outfit and checking for any soils along the way. Her heels clicked across the balcony floor to the edge of the sliding glass doors, and a glance at the reflection in them – the one of her and the charging colossus in the background – showed that said colossus hadn’t noticed. She seemed clear for the moment, but her judgment of her path to the wet bar was more turbid.

Would her shadowy semblance not be instantly perceived zooming in the sea of white that was the suite? If the giant could see her far away while still, then what difference would it make if she was moving? Then again, why would it even matter? What would he do: be upset at her doing what he wanted… only for her to not pay him because of it? Or, worse? These thoughts and many more flooded the bitty business lady’s head, but nothing stopped her from instinctively reaching for the door to do the deed.

No, actually, one thing did.

“What the shit!?” Erin exclaimed as she was nearly knocked off her feet, with glass nearly knocked out of hand. She already had plenty of experience with symphonic sensations and their sizeable sources, but nothing prepared her for this.

It looked like a bomb had gone off and sounded like it, too, as sizeable slabs hit the ground in droves, glass shattered and fell like confetti, and a dust cloud dirtied the sky. However, rather than the silence that would’ve joined a nuclear blast, the metropolitan cacophony was only increased with city folk hurrying away from the epicenter and panicking about the situation in general. As they should.

Witnessing a nine-hundred-foot man-mountain using a hotel as a stool as the smoke cleared probably wouldn’t end well. Counting all the floors that once were but now were under a titanic tush said enough on its own. Erin wanted to be mad about liking what she saw and technically caused – a usual aftermath reaction to a Viridian session for her, though a bit different this time – but she was too busy liking what she saw to care.

“Ah, there we go,” Jasper sighed, holing his ass into a comfortable crater. “Best seat in the house.”

He looked around at the attempting escapers, jubilant at all of the jittering around his feet and in his shadow… and the scattered splatters contained by them. However, upon a closer look, he saw the other consequences of his casual calamity: these not so appreciated.

“I hope this mess was worth it, though,” he then remarked, detailing and swatting at the collections of dust and rubble on his suit. Surprisingly, if one looked past the darkness of night and his obsidian-hued suit, no blood appeared to be absorbed anywhere. If it had, unnoticed, then removing it from his shoes was a non-issue. But he could only wonder what his glutes engorged because he wasn’t moving to check anytime soon. “Better not stain, or someone’s going to have a bad time.” Obviously, to himself and Erin, he was referring to himself or a Viridian volunteer cleaning his clothes later, but the pint-sized public was none the wiser, adding to the hysteria they already had.

As he cleaned himself and prodded around to a perfect position, he claimed the King’s Citadel as a king’s throne with no objection. Maybe no objection. He would’ve had to ask to know for sure, and by the looks of it, he needn’t to question. But an audience was pressed, anyway.

“Oh, heiress,” Jasper sighed, raising his gaze to meet Erin’s… or her silhouette, at least.

The little lass seemed transfixed by something – probably his doing, but he couldn’t be too sure – now standing at the balcony, resembling a ballerina in the third position, with fuzzy, bedroom eyes on her face and her glass untouched but almost sloped enough in her hand to drip. Both expressions were just asking for a climax, and so did he.

“Don’t just stand there,” he directed, slumping deeper into his building chair, cracking it further. “Come, now. You know you want to.”

Jasper’s allusions were, for better words, alluring enough to break Erin out of her whimsical stare, but she hadn’t a clue of his reference. Despite her lack of sureness, it sounded very presumptive, especially with what she wanted but hadn’t yet done with herself from the show, and the assertiveness of it all was… well, it was kind of attractive, honestly. But, of all times, now!? Just moments ago, Erin was close to incapacitating herself with a drink. They both knew that and could see that the glass hadn’t gone anywhere, and he dared to test her patience – the patience she was willing to hold for him to bulldoze a building with his butt – with it and only a glass half-wall in her way from the ground?

Erin was appalled as she waded through increased arousal, and it took an addendum from him to get her head out of the gutter – more like peeking out, in reality – and get on the same page.

“Toss it!” Jasper cheered, though it came out more like a chuckle, motioning a flick of her wrist with his light pole of an index finger. “Throw that shit!”

The glass. He meant the glass. Of course, he did. It’s what he said he wanted, after all. A bold proof of her strength through grief from an even bolder man.

With almond oceans for eyes watching her every move now, the pressure was on. But, the push to do that task wasn’t what kept Erin still. It was how, where, and all the other questions for possible cup launching. Her mind immediately went into a mode of intense concentration, contemplating every possible option in sight and its worth in the end. Minutes ago, they were simple whims to be thrown in the wind, so it did no harm to ponder. Now, one of them literally had to be lobbed and probably would cause a ripple somewhere.

Jasper wasn’t exactly an impatient soul – quite the opposite, actually, from what other clients tended to say – but it didn’t seem like such a profound or prophetic concept in his mind. It wouldn’t matter where the wine glass went in the end; it just had to go anywhere but stay in Erin’s hands. He gave a straightforward directive, and she had a panoramic balcony on which she could follow through with no hesitation. Yet, here she was with just that.

It was unlike her to not know exactly what she wanted, and, in some regards, it was adorable, watching her eyes flutter and take his words to more than the heart, it seemed. Still, the more time wasted would do neither of them any good, just delaying her own satisfaction and the inevitable for the ant-like anthropoids on the ground at their mercy. Hence, he inserted his hand all but literally in the process so that they could proceed.

“Heiress,” Jasper’s modulated voice called for her, releasing the helpless human from her mind palace. “Aim at me.”

Erin’s stance straightened immediately at the prompt, to Jasper’s approval. However, he didn’t expect her to act so quickly at the idea – at him – or so robotically. A chill grazed his neck, perhaps fittingly, as Erin gracefully twirled the stem of her glass to between her middle and ring finger, allowing for the bowl to sit solidly opposite her knuckles. From his angle, Jasper saw a similarity between her new grasping technique and that which is generally used in some throwing sport he couldn’t remember the name. Little did he know, Erin would go down the same path, channeling a star athlete to let go of her aggressively inebriated anchor.

The physics of Earth, Jasper’s home, and the realm where the pair presently resided all showed that a splash from her diminutive dram soaking into his suit was not to be a worry. The distance between the two of them was wider than he was tall, yet the goblet flew outward and down, more so the latter, like it could’ve traversed the blocks with ease. A crystal comet with a sparkling tail: beautiful in flight but still affected by gravity, nonetheless. It, like a meteorite, eventually came crashing down, and both beauties followed its trail: Jasper following it with only his eyes again versus Erin’s all-in, almost toppling, full-body trajectory tracing. The resulting calamity was worthy of the history books, and Erin almost regretted being the cause of it, too.

Almost.

A toxic trickle fell upon some unsuspecting shelter-seekers as they ignored all traffic laws and ran across Viridian’s front street for cover in some greenery. Feeling liquid on their forms, particularly somewhat cool stuff when surrounded by flames and blown fuses, sparked confusion. They instinctively looked up for a hidden cloud and around for a broken hose and found nothing but the green and aqua lights’ glow above and warm dots in the surroundings. At the realization, the group took away any consideration for a human source, remembered why they were running in the first place, and froze in horror and disgust.

The angles and quantity didn’t seem right for their astronomical adversary’s position and girth. But said place and size (and a surprisingly sweet aroma) weren’t right in any reasonable regard, either. So, who were they, in comparison to him, to judge how he played with their lives… and presumably himself all the while? To find out – their place in this world and what was bound to be a new truth – they turned to meet their maker and found themselves in the front row of a greater mess.

The droplets of Chagnioreic Xunnusus did travel far, but they were nothing against the goblet. While the soaked souls were analyzing, it shattered on contact but not on the ground. Shards settled in with flying colors in the back of someone’s skull, and the awestruck audience stood on the sidewalk, burning their corneas and scleras off watching the cards fall as they did.

The unconscious body of the belted bystander tumbled in front of an oncoming car. That same car then swerved out of the way to prevent them from being hit, only to go into another car on the opposite lanes of the street. A new pile-up built at its place, just waiting to be set off or explode… or crushed underfoot if temptations came through looks of wonder. Erin flinched at each bad move gone worse, in spite of her loving the chaos occurring. She enjoyed it while she could because she knew it wouldn’t last much longer. Jasper was just letting the twinkles of terror glisten in his cool eyes, staying calm for the awaiting craziness he wanted her to admit.

She felt his stare, and then she felt him.

“Now that that’s done and dealt with,” the giant bellowed to turn the tables, voice reverberating at a level to blow her hair back, break more than a few windows, and yet shockingly not blow her ears out, “we can get to the real shit.”

“Oh, it’s shit, alright,” Erin stated, not hesitating to snap back, gripping the balcony rail with both hands hard enough to make a dent. “Complete and utter shit.”

“If this world you’ve led us to has anything to do with your supposed tragedy, then it really must be,” Jasper explained, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Everyone thought you’d be happy today, yet here you are, anything but.”

With how promising her companies’ stocks looked and how flourishing the press releases were all week, the staff of Viridian was restless, expecting their most opulent client Erin to come by for a celebratory session. Sure, she tended to be the only one celebrating through them, but her happiness was all that mattered. The industrial levels of the resort were in a frenzy, switching back and forth between caring for those already there and anticipating future arrivals, including their particular patron of honor.

Some of the more creative souls on the team were considering preparing a treat as savory as her recent accomplishments: a juicy fruit basket with enough juice to lubricate any plaything, living and not, available for her choosing. Others were convinced that she wouldn’t even come in, having such good news and wanting to celebrate in her lonesome. However, upon seeing her enter the lobby, the figure of her silhouette alone expressed more emotion than her vocal self openly gave a reception.

Drooping demeanor. Unkempt makeup. No greetings, gossip, or generalities.

Erin came into Viridian right from overstaying her office time with nothing in mind, giving nothing to offer help, wanting nothing in particular, and thus not filling in anything on her reservation request form at check-in. Viridian had base rules for these so-called ‘blank scenarios’, though usually not as aggressive as what Erin received. They were rather fantastic at basing a session on the client’s current well-being, past service history, and a bunch of other, always accurate qualities they’d never reveal. Putting all of them together in their system as Erin exited the lobby and awaited instructions, the staff quickly saw that the result, aka her and Jasper’s place of pleasure, while physically stable, was going the total opposite symbolically in all of the worst ways.

The host at a height at which people are near indistinguishable from bugs made it statistically impossible for said host to traverse without the annihilation of something important. The client seated at the top of a tower – a conic one, no less – although safe from the ground, made them a target for an aerial approach. For most, at such a size and power difference, a distance was kept between the two for safety or, of course, not done at all. Most customers tended to go more fantastically when they and the chosen staff were on the same scale. But none of them were Erin.

This was Erin. This version of Viridian reaching halfway up a host’s body without asking for it signaled a perceived social imbalance out of the guest’s favor. This was just another blip on her record, one where she was mostly rough… on herself.

Every host was qualified to take on the challenge she was giving, including the one that was going to be assigned to her first. But no one could please Erin as Jasper could, and everyone knew it. The fortunate opening in his schedule as she concocted her troublesome tonic allowed for the best chance of an all-clear ending. So far, so good, but there was still plenty of time for a problem.

Jasper, being the epitome of employees, obviously knew all of that coming in, leaving him cautiously curious about why they had come together with her. With them in mind, along with a plethora of other things about Erin, it only seemed fair for him to inquire further on her depressing dilemma without missing a beat,

“How shitty is it?"

Finding the right words was more of a struggle for Erin than expected, and it wasn’t just because she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. She had good reason to believe that Viridian could and/or would act upon whatever she said, so she needed to be extra careful.

“You, uh… You know how you guys at Viridian enticed me to come here?” she set up, biting her lip on nervous reflex.

The last thing Jasper expected to hear in connection to her quandary was his interplanetary place of work, raising a brow in disbelief. But, going back to the question, in particular, it was obvious what his answer to it would be.

“Of course?” he conceded, openly expressing his amazement. “Why does that matter to you, er, your problem?”

“You… You know how you all – this ‘system’ or whatever – basically don’t exist to the rest of the world, except to those you invited here. Yet, you can have your hands in whatever you want?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Jasper raised his hands to challenge her. “I won’t deny my team and, by extension, all my people having ‘great’ influence, but that is all thanks to your and more so all of Earth’s research organizations being compliant with us.”

Erin remembered how her competitive interrogation tactics led to her finding out Viridian’s extraterrestrial connections to the world’s head space agency right from the get-go, but she never considered it truly being a compromise. Looking at Jasper and all he could do without doing anything was a solid example on its own.

Plus, if he truly meant compromise, then wouldn’t he have used that word himself?

“You’re the ones that want to keep us to yourselves,” the situationally gentle giant continued in a sing-song tone. “We only give as much as you humans allow us to take as part of your patronage, whether it be a simple spa day, fifteen flirtatious minutes of fun, or a more… ravenous respite in a world of your own.”

Erin knew there had to be more laced through that wording than the rather domestic destruction he had already done through so little. Was he going to live up to it? Only time would tell.

He continued further, “A feat of ours can have a wide range, but it’s a two-way street, just like the ones under me and mine.” It sure seemed to be heading there, especially with the too-strong-to-be-unintentional pun play. “That being said…” He elongated his conditional almost as long as his body. “…I can only imagine why an heiress or any magnate, really, would bother to simulate our so-called ‘invisibility’ because that would imply more than just protection.”

Although the implications her words had already made were pretty heavy, Jasper was able to look right through Erin and see that they held even more weight behind them. The nervous, tangentially agoraphobic expressions and quivering she had, rocking in her seat and tiddling her digits – fingers and, presumably, toes, too – emphasized it. Despite all of the supposed security Viridian had and how much every resort-bound staff member and extraterrestrial emissary adored her like a queen, even here, Erin didn’t feel safe, and that certainly wasn’t okay.

Waiting any longer, and Jasper felt she’d implode from guilt alone. So, he set the table for any surprise dish he could be served, not hiding his concern one bit.

“Erin, what did you do?”

The silence that followed, once the general cacophony of insectile, civilian panic was filtered out, was off-putting. As much as Jasper’s near-100-story body broke glass, foundations, pathways, and bodies beneath him, none of that resultant discord was as loud as Erin’s sigh, saliva swallow, and response cutting the upper air with a pause,

“If I promise not to spike it this time… can I get a glass of that bub? I’m gonna need it.”

[a-piece-of-peace]

Is your community prepared?: Community Involvement in Disaster Risk Reduction and Management

As someone living in one of the communities that make up one of the vast metropolises that continue to thrive economically, Quezon City deems urban resilience a vital aspect and social and economic concern in strengthening the city’s resilience. Where families and households are strong enough to withstand calamities and are also able to restore economic activity amidst the myriad of disasters. 

To better visualize the overall purpose of this blog post, I would like to first share the economic and environmental issues the Philippines is currently facing.

Due to the geographic and physical features and location of the country, it is considered to be one most disaster-prone countries in the world. Situated along the western segment of the Pacific Ring of Fire, it lies in one of the most active part of the Earth characterized by an ocean encircling belt of active volcanoes and earthquake generators. Together with twenty-two (22) active volcanoes and six (6) known fault lines, the Philippines also sits astride the typhoon belt. The major part of the country experiences annual torrential rains and thunderstorms from July to October, with about nineteen (19) typhoons entering the country’s area of responsibility in a year with eight (8) to nine (9) of them making landfall on the country’s soil. This does not only make the Philippines vulnerable to flooding, but also vulnerable to climate change.

Sea level rise is one of the best-known climate change’s many dangers. As humanity pollutes the atmosphere with toxic substances that destroys the atmosphere, the planet becomes warmer and warmer. Thus, ice sheets and glaciers melt and warming sea water expands and increases in volume of the world’s oceans. The pollution and continuous onslaught of environmentally-detrimental human activities has become one of the top contributors to this growing concern. Especially in urban areas like Metro Manila, one of the most obvious human activity that sets the ground for environmental degradation is poor waste management. Improper wastes disposal, inefficient waste collection, lack of disposal facilities and the sheer loss of basic human decency and discipline has resulted in becoming one of the greatest threats to country’s environment and public health.

After hearing all these things, what can we do? Well, as of course in true Filipino fashion. We overcome. In our classes in Disaster Risk Reduction Management (DRRM), the term “Resilient”, Filipino or English, is a source of contention and controversy. While resilience is a noble word, it is also subject to scrutiny as to what does it mean to the country’s ability to bring back the sense of normalcy and improving itself. It shouldn’t simply mean smiling whilst standing knee-deep in floods or accepting the fact that our country’s legal justice system will always be something out of a dystopian novel, or even going far back as to think, “well, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it” to the state of our transportation system. UNISDR (United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction) defines resilience as “the use of recovery, rehabilitation, and reconstruction phases after a disaster to increase ‘resilience’ of nations and communities through integrating DRR measures into the restoration of physical infra and societal systems, and into revitalization of livelihoods, economies, and the environment.” In other words, we learn from the events for us to be “more resilient.” For us to improve. And how can we do that? We start in our most basic unit of society, the family, then to the community.

To take a closer look to the one the communities preparing for such disasters, I went to visit my local barangay, Barangay Bagumbuhay.

Barangay Bagumbuhay’s hall is right along the residential area of Miguel Malvar Street.  Easily accessible by the Light Railway Transit (LRT) System (though it is currently closed for operations) or by jeeps coming from Cubao or Katipunan, going through Aurora boulevard.

Due to the location of the barangay, not a lot of natural hazards were identified. According to PHILVOC’s faultfinder, the barangay is approximately 1.6 km. from the nearest active fault trace, which is the West Valley Fault.  

The barangay also had an advantage of being located right on top of a hill-like landmass, giving it the ability to rule out severe cases of flooding. However, there were still hazards to the community that were present. Namely, Anthropogenic hazards which were the structures and residential areas that were violating building code. Particularly the residential areas that were built atop the creek along F. Castillo Street. The officials fear that if these structures weren’t fixed immediately, they may become a danger to the residents should an offshoot of a disaster happened (e.g. fires). Blocked roads and alleys were also a danger since they served as a blockage to the entry and exit of residents to and from their homes, making it difficult for them to move through. 

The officer in charge of the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management office of  barangay Bagumbuhay, Estiño Martinez, introduced me to the various DRRM plans they had prepared in case the community faced a disaster. There were plans of evacuation locations for the nearby residents as well of those people who need special care and attention. Sr. Martinez provided a list of projects that had already been done and to be done (for 2020) in order to fulfill their duty of reducing the risk of any hazards that pose a threat to the community.

Sr. Martinez accompanied us in viewing the various preparations the had in store. For medical emergencies, for fire accidents, as well as for the aftermath of any disaster.

The multipurpose court to be used as an evacuation center for the community.

A funeral parlor and holding area for the families who are cannot afford the expenses of having a proper burial for their family member.

A Barangay Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Center right behind the hall. This includes the various materials and equipment to be used if in case of an emergency.

The fully-equipped ambulance and fire truck on stand-by 24-7. Sir. Martinez also informed us that the people manning these vehicles were always on site. He told us that they had shiftings in place for these positions as to prevent lacking important personnel if and when needed. 

The barangay council also set forth a clearing operation for the entire Miguel Malvar Street. This was to prevent blockage or traffic for the emergency vehicles going in and out of the barangay hall area. 

When I asked about the issues that the barangay faced in implementing their plans, he told us how sometimes there were residents who refused to take part in an operation they called Ugnayan. This system allowed residents to be informed of the basic and immediate reparations should a disaster ever happen. Seminars and workshops going on in the barangay is also openly given and provided to the residents. Sr. Martinez explained to us how participation of all the individual members of the community is what will ultimately help the community, not just the barangay personnel. The interview was then abruptly cut due to the schedules Sir. Martinez had. 

Though our time was short, he was able to answer all my questions and expound on his answers in a concise manner. I am extremely grateful to Sir Martinez for giving me his time in answering all my questions.

The interview led me to many conclusions about how vital it is for a community to be prepared for such disasters. In case of any disaster or emergency, before any government relief & support reaches or outside help is utilized, it is the Community which has to respond immediately (at the hour). As the Community plays the role of First Responder, it is critical that there is adequate awareness and preparedness at the Community level especially among the most vulnerable set of communities residing in the most vulnerable areas. 

Disaster preparedness provides a platform to organize effective, realistic and coordinated planning, reduces the waste of efforts and increase the overall effectiveness of the individual, household and community members disaster preparedness and response efforts. Disaster preparedness activities that are planned with risk reduction measures can prevent disaster situations and also result in saving maximum lives and livelihoods during any disaster situation, enabling the affected community to easily get back on its feet within a short period of time. Community preparedness can be thought of as the advance capacity of a community to respond to the consequences of an adverse event by having plans in place so that people know what to do and where to go if a warning is issued or a hazard is observed.

What we plan with our families, our community, and in our country helps us consider our emergency response activities in light of existing and new disaster risks that is affecting us and our country. This allows us to design or adjust our activities so that people and communities and in the end, our country to become safer and more disaster-resilient, as well as safeguarding efforts to create and expand enabling conditions for sustainable poverty alleviation and development. This can help strengthen our communities and reduce our vulnerability to the multiple natural disasters heading our way. 

The best way we can do to help our community and our country is to raise awareness. People being informed and equipped with the right knowledge will go a very long way. Just as the saying goes, it is better to know it and not need it than to need it and not know it. 

We as a community must urge our those we have elected to government positions to quickly move in planning and developing projects that will protect the public. We must build resilience in ourselves and also in the systems of our society. We must approach climate change with fear, for what our children’s future will be, and courage and hope, that we can heal what has been done.

To our public officials, they must create and support national policies and strategies allocating the resources of the country to manage the risk threatening it. Everyone must help in pushing for change and improvement in access to quality primary health care even before disaster strikes. 

To our workforce, we must be trained and equipped in planning for all types of emergencies. We need to be able to identify hazards, vulnerabilities, and our own capacities to lessen risks.

To the public, we as collective need to promote risk awareness of emergencies as well as providing health education to the youth. There is so much we can do when we join together for a cause that will protect us and our families. 

True “resilience”, I believe, is not tolerance or ignorance of the system that is broken in the front of adversity. It is the triumphant improvement of ourselves, physically and socially to become better. A better Filipino nation that faces calamities not in a defeatist manner but with a strength of Filipinos coming together.

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [717]

The Iron Bull had ever only spoken of his source-world twice. Once, presumably, when he first came to this place and the Authority interviewed him for placement and risk assessment. The second time, explicitly stated to her, when he and Ellana decided to have a try at being something together because he felt it would be unfair to her if he did not tell her his origin point. And it would also be unfair to her to withhold more proof that anything they try to build together would not fall apart because he wasn’t going to leave it willingly.

Part of the rules of living here, in this place where people fall when they fall between the cracks of worlds, is that you never ask a person about their home-world or the circumstances around them being there and then here. Not unless they volunteer it.

Bull had never volunteered his full story to her, but she knew pieces. She knew that he was a soldier. And in his source-world — he referred to this place as his home-world, that he did say explicitly, this is the world where he had found a home — of his there was some degree of the supernatural. Perhaps not magic outright, like in Cassandra’s home-world, but there was something preternatural there.

It was not knights and dragons, witches and demons, like in Cassandra’s home, but it was something sinister. Something fearful and chilling. Some great calamity capable of bleeding that he was fighting. That he and his people were fighting for centuries, for as long as their history had existed.

Whatever was there he did not want to go back. He never looked for the gap between worlds, the crack, the slip, the sliver of space that would lead back to the place that made him. He never listened out for people with similar stories as his, the same parlance, the same jargon. He never asked after anything that would lead back to his origin point.

But Cassandra would infinitely wish that he had gone back to that place, that dark and terrible place, rather than the present alternative.

Kaaras is in Ellana’s kitchen, going over the finer details of Cassandra is not able to see or sense with her slowly waning magical senses, while whoever else of them who’s available and capable of fitting into Ellana’s house is in the front room with her. They’re either making sure she’s not about to do something stupid, or they’re here to make sure that no one else does anything stupid.

When Cassandra checked in on them Varric was holding her hand in his and offering her some words of comfort, and Mahanon was carding his hair through his sister’s fingers.

Mahanon and Ellana came through together at the same time from the same place. This is highly unusual.

But the two of the are twins. Which is a lot less unusual.

The twins are from two worlds away. They were born in a world without magic, but it wasn’t like this world they’re in now. There wasn’t any technology, their world wasn’t there yet. One day when they were about sixteen — a normal age to be stolen away — they were laying out traps in the woods near their house when they fell off an incline. And they landed in the new world.

A world with magic. A world with dragons and ghosts. A world with spells and wizards and orcs and vampires and demons. A world with knights and winged horses and knights who rode those winged horses to fight dragons in the sky.

There was a war to be won there and together they won it. They spent ten years of their lives on that war. Establishing peace. Helping the hurt.

And then the world spat them out here.

(At least it didn’t send them back to where they were before. Cassandra knows about people who’ve had that happen to them. Those people are so hollow. So drained. So frail. Sometimes Cassandra is afraid to meet their gaze, lest they know that she managed to keep part of her magic and want to hurt her for it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone lashed out in envy.)

When a world falls out of love with its chosen ones it spits them out here. Usually. If one is lucky.

Ellana and Mahanon landed here, and they made a home here, and Ellana made a house here. Like most people do.

Most people who arrive here learn to make this place home. Sometimes they still look for ways to their old worlds, or maybe to new worlds. But most of them, spat out from somewhere else, find this place alright.

Cassandra realizes that there’s nothing for her in her own home-world now. She can’t ever go back. Even if she did, it would only hurt.

And then there are some people who cannot accept this place, the fact that they’ve been thrown out of someplace else to come here.

“How is she?” Cassandra asks, catching Josephine’s elbow as the shorter woman passes her on the way to one of the other rooms to take a call.

Josephine presses the phone against her shoulder, glancing back at the crowded living room. It’s not loud in there, it’s just —

It’s just heavy.

“She’s not crying.” Not yet. “She’s coherent.” Presently. “I don’t think she should be alone.”

“Do you think Solas would try and grab her next?”

Josephine levels a flat look at Cassandra, sharp, bitter, and entirely uncharacteristic smile darkening her mouth.

“Why would he? He already took what he wanted from her.”

Cassandra grimaces, letting Josephine go. Josephine immediately looks apologetic.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been sharp with you,” she says, sighing, “I’ve got Leliana on the phone. She’s on her way over, she’s picking up the Hawkes and they’re going to bring food. I’m just giving her a headcount and an update on things here. Kaaras and Dorian are still going over the kitchen. Can you — can you watch over them?”

Cassandra nods, feeling tired and drained.

As soon as Josephine’s passed her Cassandra closes her eyes and takes a moment to herself. She reaches deep inside, to the hollow empty place where magic and power used to glow so warm and sanguine. She doesn’t know if her god can hear her anymore — an entire world away. Even if He did hear her, she doesn’t know if He cares.

But just in case —

“Maker,” Cassandra whispers, “Help me hold strong. Help me protect these people. We are already hurt and tired. We have already done our service. Please help us stand.”

[yourmitchiebishi]

Preparedness is a MUST

Brgy. Sta. Cruz is one of the 16 barangays of Antipolo city. It comprises of various sitios wherein 50% of the population is residential, 40% is vacant and 10% is for commercial use. Since half of the area is residential, safety of the people should be considered especially during disasters. That’s why, I took the time to research about the hazards present in the barangay as well as their preparedness for the unlikely situations that may happen by interviewing some of the members of their BDRRM team and surveying some of the sitios. I was able to talk to Sir Joselito U. Soria, one of the members of the team, with some inputs from their team leader which is Ma’am Marissa S. Dela Rosa.

Interview with Sir Jocelito

Photo op with Ma’am Marissa and some members of the team

The first thing that I asked about their barangay was the different disasters that they’ve experienced before, Sir Joselito cited that the barangay experiences typhoon, landslides (which resulted from the typhoon), fires and road accidents which is the most common. He then identified the different hotpots or places they watch out for that are prone to landslides during typhoons. Those places are Blue Mountain, Maria Corazon tree and Sitio Cacalog. 

Blue Mountain (hazardous place for landslide). Photo grabbed from https://www.fatima.edu.ph/campus/our-lady-of-fatima-antipolo/

Despite these calamities, he said that they have a sort of effective communication line in knowing if there is a typhoon coming that’s why damages and injuries are minimized. Aside from news updates, they primarily get their information and announcements from city based communication team then it would be relayed to the different rescue teams of the barangays via their radio phones then the announcement would be passed to the heads of the sitios. 

As I’ve mentioned above, damages and injuries are minimized. But if the calamity is so strong, the usual effects of it are property damages especially those houses near steep areas and injuries (death is very rare for them). He even told me a story that last year, they rescued a male child in Sitio Cacalog because of a landslide. I then asked him if there are evacuation areas and open areas around the barangay that would be used if needed. He confidently answered that there are numerous open areas and 7 covered courts around.

one of their 7 covered courts

I mentioned if they have BDRRM Plans and Projects, Hazard and Safety Map and other documents to further gather data about their preparedness. Sir Jocelito said that BDRRM plans still needs to be requested from the barangay administrator while their Hazard and Safety Map was damaged recently and they’re on the process of replacing it with a new one. But he told me the for the projects, the barangay conducts earthquake drills, fire drills and even rescue drills approximately every 2-3 months. Lastly, he said that the biggest challenge they’re encountering is the lack of budget. He honestly told me that they lack rescue tools and equipment, even their rescue boat right now is not in use because it has been damaged already.

their current tools and equipment

The lack of budget especially in DRRM Plans and Projects has been a problem not just for our barangay but also to other barangays as well. It’s even evident in nationwide departments such as PAGASA ( Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration) wherein some of their weather forecasters go abroad because of the small wage they receive and the shutdown of Project Noah, an online website wherein information about hazards and other things about every area in the Philippines would be readily available to everyone. The national and local government should prioritize and allocate budget on this area because disasters greatly affect people’s lives and livelihood if risks and hazards are not mitigated. Preparedness is a must.

As I end this blog, I learned the importance on being knowledgeable on the DRRM situation of our barangay (and also our country) because it propels us to do actions about the things that are lacking and the practices that needs to be improved. I realize that everyone in the community has a role to fulfill and cooperation among each other is vital in the preparedness of the barangay. Lastly, there’s a need to call the attention of national and local leaders to support DRRM plans and projects by means of money for a more progressive country.

Sources:

https://stacruzantipolocity.weebly.com/

[discerningdisasters-blog]

Welcome to Brgy. San Isidro!

My Barangay Disaster Risk Reduction Management (BDRRM) kwentuhan with Mr. Benjamin Canillas Jr., assistant to the secretary, was conducted in the pleasant afternoon of December 6, 2019. We discussed about the disasters that can happen in Barangay San Isidro of Cainta, Rizal. I realized that there are disasters in the barangay that are highly preventable, it is just that people are lacking discipline. There may be shortcomings on the part of the local government, but we should also take the initiative to not let disasters happen. Because they are natural disasters, they happen on their own and will affect everyone so it is inevitable that we should plan ahead according to our living conditions to minimize the risks disasters bring with them. My walk around the community with my mother is a good way to conclude the discussion. There I realized that the government and the people really need to team up for the betterment of the barangay. It should be in the government’s best interest to make safety a top priority even before catastrophes happen. After all, it is called Barangay Disaster Risk Reduction Management because it is a management that reduces risks from disasters in a barangay. So to the residents of Barangay San Isidro, and to Filipinos in general, I hope this blog becomes of great help to you to ensure your safety and your barangay’s too in times of calamities.   

Barangay San Isidro, in Cainta, Rizal, covers a land area of 2,158.9 hectares. It is about 6 kilometers from the center of Cainta where there is the balcony of the town. In the east there is the Barangay Mayamot of Antipolo City. In the west, Barangay Sto. Niño of Marikina City can be found. While in the north, it is bordered by Concepcion II in Marikina City and in the south one can find Barangay Sto. Domingo, also in Cainta, Rizal.

Creeks that easily get overflowed when it rains pose a danger of flooding. We have complete and working drainage canal but since such creeks are full of garbage, this a reason to invite floods in our area. Aside from lack of discipline from the residents, not having proper garbage disposal places contribute to the clog-inducing garbage. Floods affect the livelihood of people and those that live in low-lying places. During storms, our barangay relies on PAGASA for weather updates so we can prepare accordingly. It is crucial that our barangay be one of the first to know because our barangay is in Cainta, a low area, making it a catch basin of flood water from the high-lying grounds around. As everyone knows, earthquakes can’t be predicted so no early warnings can be disseminated to the community. But since we are located near the Marikina/Valley Fault System, we can be affected in case an earthquake stems from this fault line. It also happens that the soil where our barangay stands is soft. Soft soils amplify ground shaking. If one lives in an area that in past earthquakes suffered shaking stronger than that felt in other areas at comparable distance from the source, he is likely to experience relatively strong shaking in future earthquakes as well.  

Here is a table included in Barangay San Isidro’s BDRRM Plan that shows how vulnerable it is to the disasters it can experience.

Twenty percent of houses in the barangay are made from light materials, making their inhabitants easily lose their homes even if a disaster is relatively low impact. Forty percent of houses here are close to the neighboring house, touching each other’s walls. This presents a problem during earthquakes where there can be a domino effect of casualties in the entire neighborhood. People have few alternative livelihoods here so it would be difficult to get up again after a disaster when one cannot utilize other forms of livelihood in case he can’t go back to his own for a temporary amount of time.

We have an Early Warning System (EWS) that according to the BDRRM, is easy to understand by the residents about what disasters are about to come. We even have an EWS for PWDs and other vulnerable groups such as children and senior citizens. The popular Filipino trait, “bayanihan system” is very evident in our barangay in times of great need because we go out of our way just to help others so everyone can be given their physiological needs and social support too. We listen to our barangay officials and persons of authority so we know what to do before, during, and after a disaster. The barangay officials enforce the Manila Clean-up Drive which happens every Saturday in all creeks of the barangay. This is a good way to reduce the level of flooding when it rains. But because there are people who need to know discipline, creek cleaners are always greeted by a new batch of trash every Saturday, signaling the need for stricter policies in the community.

Our barangay has safe spaces and people who aid in achieving safety. We have 13 covered courts or gymnasiums, thereby promoting the importance of physical health as it an asset in times of disasters when physical strength aids in survival. We have 1 multi-purpose building that can house relief goods before they are given away to those in need. There are 22 evacuation centers and in addition to that, there are barangay halls and 9 public schools that can be utilized as temporary shelters for the victims of disasters especially flooding. We have 1 private hospital and 4 barangay health centers that can accommodate those who are injured or in critical condition when disaster strikes. They can provide medications for leptospirosis in times of floods and for the injured when raging waters carry with it things that can hit and wound a person. For safety from the disaster itself, there are 5 trained emergency response teams in our barangay, and 10 trained BDRRM operations center and trained personnel. The houses of informal settlers pose a danger to the informal settlers themselves in times of storms when the strong wind would blow away their light-weighted houses, becoming a threat to them in losing their shelters and a threat to others who might get hit by the drifting materials. Creeks also pose a danger when they overfill and cause flooding because of their clogging garbage.

It is apparent that Barangay San Isidro needs help when it comes to storms, floods, and earthquakes that’s why the local government has taken steps to address these issues. There is always room for improvement and because the barangay still experiences high impact from disasters, the local government can improve and implement policies. The clean-up drive, for example, can involve the whole community so we can see the true state of our creeks and then there would be lesser or no more littering the next time the clean-up drive will be held. Housing projects can be implemented for the informal settlers because houses made from light materials can easily get blown away by the strong winds of storms. Not just for lessening the number of casualties, but such houses are also a sign of kindness from the government. For now, earthquakes cannot be detected so we should be prepared anytime. Infrastructures should be the focus of the government when it comes to this to somehow reduce casualties because the land where the barangay stands is a soft soil.

It is always good to learn more and be aware of the disaster situation of the country, not just my barangay. Storms can greatly affect my barangay because some have poorly built houses. In the whole country, informal settlers are rampant and an issue. It is hard for them to recuperate their homes after a storm. Even with assistance from the government, life will never be the same for a family to go and find another home even if they are used to it, being informal settlers. The country has issues with proper garbage disposal, just as my barangay has issues with it. Flooding now becomes a problem even with just rains brought by southwest monsoon or Habagat. The typhoons that habagat brings, unfortunately, cause millions, sometimes billions, worth of reconstruction damage and kill hundreds of Filipinos. Earthquakes are a concern of our barangay because of its proximity to a fault line. The whole country itself is cautious about earthquakes because it is located in the Pacific Ring of Fire.  The majority of Earth’s volcanoes and earthquakes take place along the Ring of Fire.  Ninety percent of Earth’s earthquakes occur along its path, including the planet’s most violent and dramatic seismic events. Being in the Ring of Fire, extra vigilance is expected from residents of Barangay San Isidro and citizens of the Philippines.

Disasters. We know about them. But why do we need to? We need to know about them because it is part of reducing losses acquired from them. When you know what a flood is, when and how it happens, you are pretty much equipped when an actual flood affects you. When you also know the preparations that have to be made, the actions that you must take up when the waters come raging, and the plans on how to recover be it for your shelter or livelihood, you can survive floods with minimal risks experienced. The same process goes to all the other calamities that can occur out there. Keep in mind that it is always better to be prepared than suffer the consequences.  

Looking at a larger scale, the country should address the disasters it is experiencing. But how? Policy makers can make sure that risks are lowered through making laws that are targeted towards the prevention of disasters. For the people, prevention can be in the form of conducting seminars, handing out prepared kits to be used during disasters, and clean up drives that involve the whole community that instill a sense of discipline so they can know the state of their place and be more cautious the next time they do something, such as disposing of trash improperly, that can lead to disaster. Ecobricks can be made from trash and it also helps the homeless too for they can be used to build houses. An ecobrick is a 500ml to 1.5L sized plastic bottle tightly filled with plastic trash until it becomes almost as hard as a brick. For the surroundings, the creating or reinforcing of infrastructures can be utilized. Drainage canals are, well, for draining flood water, but they can’t do so if they don’t pass architectural and engineering standards. For the environment, policy makers should see to it that trees are utilized. Trees can reduce flood water by up to 20%. It may not be much, but it definitely helps. Besides, trees have other benefits such as providing clean air and adding to the aesthetic value of a place. We can have more trees around us if each one of us plants some. Not all seedlings become trees and so it greatly helps if everyone takes part in this so we can have a significant contribution to the environment.

 Here are planned activities for the tree-planting activity and ecobrick-making.

“Flooding is preventable. Through trees, it’s feasible!”

1. Schools can organize tree-planting activities for students. Since it takes a long time for trees to grow, the next batch of students should take care of the planted trees and at the same time, plant their own trees.

2. Social media influencers can be tapped to create their own “challenge” regarding tree-planting so their followers can be motivated to participate.

3. Whenever one passes by a plot of land with seedlings or saplings, he must water them as he sees it fit.

“Houses made from rubbish. Don’t be fooled, they’re sturdy!”

1. The creation of ecobricks. People are to bring them to drop off points for ecobricks where they can earn certificates and tokens after reaching a certain amount.

2. People can post on social media the ecobricks they made and make it a competition about who can make the most in a month.

3. Houses made of ecobricks will be erected for the homeless. Other structures can be built too but the creation of such houses is the top priority.

References

Harrabin, R. (2016, March 11). Tree planting 'can reduce flooding'. Retrieved from https://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-35777927.

National Geographic Society. (2019, April 5).  Ring of Fire. Retrieved from https://www.nationalgeographic.org/encyclopedia/ring-fire/.

Scotty’s Action Sports Network. (n.d.). The two seasons in the Philippines: Amihan and Habagat. Retrieved from https://www.divescotty.com/underwater-blog/amihan-habagat-monsoon.php.

U.S. Geological Survey. (n.d.). Soil Type and Shaking Hazard in the San Francisco Bay Area. Retrieved from https://earthquake.usgs.gov/hazards/urban/sfbay/soiltype/.

[rasenkaikyo]

Regarding Lore on Hingashi

In spite of the (likely deliberate) partial illegibility of the sample pages given for the new lore book, I took it upon myself by request to transcribe the page set for the nation of Hingashi! I did the best I can; sorry for any errors!

HINGASHI

To the east of Othard, across the Ruby Sea, lies the island nation of Hingashi. Though it is now known to be the birthplace of the ninjutsu and samurai traditions, little else can be said with confidence about this isolated land and its reclusive peoples.

Flag: The flag many associate with Hingashi -- that of a black circle with three waves curving inward --- is in fact not a national standard, but rather the banner of the Mitsurugi clan, which currently rules Hingashi.

Motto: Live with Conviction

Government: True power in Hingashi rests in the hands of the bakufu, a military government. However, the official head of state is the emperor, who "entrusts" matters of government to the shogun and his officials. For generations, the royal household has seen fit to favor the Mitsurugi clan, whose sons have served as strong leaders. It should be noted that while the current figurehead is male, the right of succession is not restricted to men alone -- absolute primogeniture is the Hingan tradition.

Leader: Emperor Reigen

Ruling Body: The Mitsurugi clan leads the bakufu at present. Their influence over a given region can vary greatly, though, as they must retain the support of many wealthy families which have their own agendas.

Racial Distribution: Far Eastern Hyur: 50% Far Eastern Roegadyn: 15% Au Ra Raen: 10% Other: 25%

Religion: The people of Hingashi generally profess a belief in the kami, a legion of divine spirits said to exist in all aspects in nature, from mountains and rivers to the very crops Hingans grow and consume. These kami feature prominently in several creation myths, though the particulars of each tale differ from region to region. To declare each myth part of a formal religion may be misleading, though, as the Hingans do not engage in any standardized rituals, nor do they consistently favor any given kami over another -- a being deeply venerated in one land may be virtually ignored in another. Their faith might be best described as a pragmatic amalgamation of those practices which appeal to the individual most. Suffice it to say, the average Eorzean may struggle to comprehend this approach.

Industries: Agriculture: Rice is a staple of Hingan cuisine, and its cultivation vastly outstrips that of all other crops. Its impact on Hingan society can clearly be seen in how farmland is valued and taxed according to the quantity of rice is could potentially produce. Fishing: As an island nation, Hingashi has ever enjoyed the sea's bounty. The peoples of various regions have developed their own techniques over the centuries -- some communities favor spearfishing, which demands more of the individual, whereas others came to rely on trawling, which requires more coordinated action. Textiles: Having adopted sericulture from Othard, Hingan weavers applied their distinct dyeing techniques to create exquisite new styles of clothes. So values are such items by foreign traders that they are worth their weight in gold. Steelworks: The katana is perhaps the quintessential Hingan weapon, its design having been refined over generations by legendary swordsmiths belonging to several clans. These clans continue to improve upon ancient traditions, and so their works new and old command a high price at market.

Beliefs: The Hingan people value patience and perseverance in all things. Be one a farmer or a soldier, he should devote himself to his chosen profession. Indeed, if one were to liken life to a road, the traveler must be mindful of every step, that they might learn from the experience and be better for it. This concept manifests in the very language of Hingashi, for the Hingan terms for countless martial and artistic pursuits contain the word "path," further emphasizing the mindset one is expected to have.

Diet: Rice and fish are mainstays of the Hingan diet, and are frequently served together at meals. One of the more well-known examples of this is sushi, in which a small portion of vinegared rice is pressed together, and atop that is laid a thin slice of raw fish. Though at a glance it may appear to be a simple dish, Hingan culinarians must train for tens of summers before they are considered masters of the technique. Miso and soy sauce, as well as fish stock and fermented foods, feature heavily in traditional Hingan cuisine.

HISTORY

A Forgotten Past

Regrettably, there is little to no information concerning Hingashi prior to the Fourth Astral Era. Extant Allagan records currently available for study make no mention of the islands either. Therefore, it must be inferred that while the Allagan Empire ruled the Three Great Continents at the height of its power, its dominion did not extend to what would later be known as Hingashi. This presumption is further supported by the fact that, in the limited archaeological surveys of the island understand with the permission of the bakufu, not a single Allagan ruin has been discovered. This is not to say there was no evidence of Allagan influence whatsoever, though, as small artifacts such as jewelry and tomestones were unearthed. The prevailing theory at this time is that the islands were either deserted or home to only a token population prior to the Fourth Umbral Calamity, at which point refugees fleeing the collapse of the Empire came en masse. The Allagan trinkets found in Hingashi were brought by these new arrivals, who subsequently cast off the last vestiges of their fallen ancestry and strove to create a new one free from the trappings of the past. Again, it should be stressed that this is a theory based on limited evidence, and it should not be taken as incontrovertible fact.

The First Emperor 

The oldest surviving primary sources discovered in Hingashi are wooden tablets which date back approximately three millenia. They were found on Koshu, the nation's largest island, and appear to be a record of taxes owed to a wealthy landowner. From this we can conclude that Hingan society was sufficiently developed to support complex systems of taxation. Only two hundred years later, a clan in the western plains of Koshu rose to prominence following the fall of its neighboring rivals. The clan's head declared himself a great king and launched a campaign to bring all others to heel, and in the span of three hundred years, his descendants managed to unite the whole of western Koshu beneath one banner. As time passed, subsequent leaders were declared emperors, and if records are to be believed, the current imperal household can trace its ancestry all the way to this first ancient king. An Age of Blood and Strife

For nearly a millennium, the unbroken line of emperors held absolute power. However, fifteen hundred years ago, at the dawn of the Sixth Astral Era, a dispute over succession plunged Hingashi into civil war. Two ruled -- an emperor in the east, and an emperor in the west -- and for the better part of three centuries their descendants fought against one another. The resulting chaos greatly reduced the power and prestige of the royal bloodline. In order to claim victory, the royals increasingly turned to the vassals sworn to serve them. To secure their martial support, they granted them new rights and promised new privileges. So focused were the royals on defeating their hated rivals that they did not consider the wider implications of their generosity until it was too late. When at last the dust settled, an emperor in the east reigned triumphant, but as a figurehead, for he had surrendered nearly all his power to other clans. Emboldened, these clans then turned upon one another, and a new struggle for supremacy began.

The Rise of the Mitsurugi Clan

Over the course of six hundred years, Hingashi was ravaged by the fires of war. Clans seized every opportunity to strike at their enemies, and were in turn attacked by other equally ruthless foes. In such an environment, people found new ways to survive. Those born into poverty could rise to prominence through strength of action, and indeed, there were farmers that became lauded generals. Those who lacked such talents could resort to trickery and deception, and indeed, there were tales of foolish lords betrayed by their vassals. No one was safe, and naught was guaranteed. So it was that Hingashi was awash with blood until the Mitsurugi clan, rulers of Onokuni, came to power. Though their leader, Kanzan, was not skilled in the arts of war, he was a peerless politician and strategist. While others resorted to violence to achieve their ends, he forged alliances through marriage and employed ninja to gain vital intelligence. In this way, he not only defended his clan's holdings from outsiders, but outmaneuvered his rivals so that when at last the decisive battle came, the Mitsurugi clan alone stood above all others. Kanzan once more demonstrated his foresight when he restored the imperial household to power, declaring that the mandate he had to rule had been bequeathed to him by the Hingan emperor. In doing so, he appeared to honor ancient tradition and appeased those who had yearned to return to halcyon days, even if in sooth the Mitsurugi clan remained the true power behind the throne.

The Opening of Kugane

Though the Mitsurugi Bakufu faced resistance from several clans, it was a far cry from the chaos which had once consumed the island nation. Peace had come to Hingashi, and while the clans were not wont relinquish their independence -- and indeed took many measures to preserve it -- they could not deny that there was some benefit in cooperating with the new government. No longer preoccupied with internal strife, the people were, at long last, free to look beyond their borders and see what wonders the world held -- and many were quite eager to do so. In recent years, however, the bakufu has grown weary of foreign interests. The rise of the Garlean Empire and its aggressive expansion with the aid of magitek has not gone unnoticed, nor has the struggle of the Domans across the Ruby Sea not been a source of some concern. The fall of Dalmasca served to underscore this, and spurred Hingashi to, like Radz-at-Han before it, formally declare themselves neutral with regards to Garlemald's actions. As such, they will not intervene in the affairs of Yanxia nor Nagxia. For the time being, the bakufu maintains its strict isolationist policies and devotes the majority of its attention to internal affairs, whilst permitting only a small measure of foreign trade to take place via the port of Kugane on Shishu. The port is also home to several embassies, including most notably that of the Garlean Empire. Indeed, Kugane could be said to exemplify the nation's precarious position: all are welcome, but none as friends.

[bantarleton]

The American Declaration of Dependence

The Declaration of Dependence was signed over a period of three days, ending November 28, 1776. The Declaration was signed by 547 Loyalists from New York. The signers were merchants, yeomen, freed slaves – basically a mixed bag of people all wishing to remain loyal to the Crown. The Declaration of Dependence has 491 more signatures than its counterpart which was signed earlier in 1776, though it should be noted the purpose of signing was different (government ratification v public subscription to a cause).

The Declaration of Dependence is in the library of the New York Historical Society.

Transcription

To the Right Honorable Richard Viscount Howe, of the Kingdom of Ireland, and His Excellency The Honorable William Howe, Esquire, General of His Majesty's Forces in America, the Kings' Commissioners for restoring Peace in His Majesty's Colonies and Plantations in North America &c. &c. &c.

May it please your excellencies.

Impressed with the most grateful sense of the Royal Clemency, manifested in you Proclamation of the 14th. Of July last, whereby His Majesty hath been graciously pleased to declare, "That he is desirous to deliver His American subjects from the calamities of War, and other oppressions, which they now undergo:" and equally affected with sentiments of gratitude for the generous and humane attention to the disposition "to confer with His Majesty's well affected subjects, upon the means of restoring the public Tranquility, and establishing a permanent union with every Colony as a part of the British Empire."

We whose names are hereunto subscribed, Inhabitants of the City and County of New-York, beg leave to inform your Excellencies: that altho most of us have subscribed a general Representation with many other of the Inhabitants; yet we wish that our conduct, in maintaining inviolate our loyalty to our Sovereign, against the strong tide of oppression and tyranny, which has almost overwhelmed this Land, may be marked by some line of distinction, which cannot well be drawn from the mode of Representation that has been adopted for the Inhabitants in general.

Influenced by this Principle, and from a regard to our peculiar Situation, we have humbly presumed to trouble your Excellencies with the second application; in which, we flatter ourselves, none participate but those who have ever, with unshaken fidelity, borne true Allegiance to His Majesty, and the most warm and affectionate attachment to his Person and Government. That, notwithstanding the tumult of the times, and the extreme difficulties and losses to which many of us have been exposed, we have always expressed, and do now give this Testimony of our Zeal to preserve and support the Constitutional Supremacy of Great Britain over the Colonies; and do most ardently wish for a speedy restoration of that union between them, which, while it subsisted, proved the unfailing source of their mutual happiness and prosperity.

We cannot help lamenting that the number of Subscribers to this Address is necessarily lessened, by the unhappy circumstance that many of our Fellow-Citizens, who have firmly adhered their loyalty, have been driven from their Habitations, and others sent Prisoners into some of the neighbouring Colonies: and tho' it would have afforded us the highest satisfaction, could they have been present upon this occasion: yet we conceive it to be the duty we owe to ourselves and our prosperity, whilst this testimony of our Allegiance can be supported by known and recent facts, to declare to your Excellencies; that so far from having given the last countenance or encouragement, to the most unnatural, unprovoked Rebellion, that ever disgraced the annuls of Time; we have on the contrary, steadily and uniformly opposed it, in every stage of its rise and progress, at the risque of our Lives and Fortunes.

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Embracing The World: Part 8

TOLERANCE AND DIALOGUE

Dialogue means the coming together of two or more people to discuss certain issues, and thus the forming of a bond between these people. In that respect, we can call dialogue an activity that has human beings at its axis. Undoubtedly, everyone is rewarded according to their sincerity and intention.

If people direct their actions with sincerity and with good intentions, then they may be winners even if others should consider them losers. The Prophet of God said: “Deeds are judged by intentions,” and he emphasized that the intention of the believer is more important than the act itself. If the deed is founded upon good intentions, it will turn out well. So, whatever one may do, one must first be sincere in one’s intentions and seek the approval of God. Thus one should not ill-judged or slander the ties that are being established between various groups in the name of love, dialogue, and tolerance.

Society cannot endure more tremors after having suffered so many wounds and after having been shaken so many times. If anti-democratic concentrations of power become the unshakeable burden of this nation and logic and judgment are supplanted through the power and means available to these concentrations, then this noble nation might not be able to recover again. As a result of such a calamity, this heaven-like land may be pushed 15 or 20 years back. It is possible that we might lose some things, that we might long for these lost things, even if they were to be among those things that we criticize today. In that respect, if we start our efforts for dialogue with the belief that “peace is better” (Al-Nisa 4:128), then we must demonstrate that we are on the side of peace at home and abroad. Indeed, peace is of the utmost importance to Islam; fighting and war are only secondary occurrences which are bound to specific reasons and conditions. In that respect, we can say that if an environment of peace where all can live in peace and security cannot be achieved in this land, then it would be impossible for us to do any good service for society or for humanity.

Misconceptions about Islam

If we approach the issue from a different perspective, Muslims have from time to time been misunderstood and as a result, they have been subjected to pressure and insults. We have even witnessed Muslims being deprived of their most natural and basic rights, for example, their right to work. This oppression that believing people has been subjected to is executed in the name of virtues, like humanism, human rights, generosity, love, and tolerance; these are in fact characteristics of Islam. Yet, it is these very characteristics and virtues that are being used against people who believe and these concepts are being exploited. Always there has been this basic attitude, an attitude that is subtle and deceitful, on the part of those who do not want to give room to Islam and Muslims to exist, either here or abroad. Things that have been claimed are not true; a Muslim can never be a bigot. Even if some people with such characteristics may have appeared within the Islamic community, it is unthinkable to conceive of all Muslims as being distanced from understanding and tolerance. Indeed, to this day what harm have the Muslims done and what evil have they committed and against whom? Despite their good intentions, some people have always been falsely stereotyped and have been weighed upon faulty scales; they have become the scapegoats for various accusations in the name of love, tolerance, freedom, and democracy. Despite being at the receiving end of all these false accusations, real Muslims never injure anyone and satisfy themselves merely by stating the fact that they are not the way they have been imputed to be. Still, a certain group has never ceased to attack them. Indeed, beauty has always sprung from the pure and blameless souls of the Muslims and the holy and exalted sources that are in their hands. It cannot be any other way; in the Qur’an, the Sunna, and in the pure and learned interpretations of the Great Scholars there is no trace of a decree or an attitude that is contrary to love, tolerance or dialogue in the sense of meeting with all, and declaring and expressing our emotions or thoughts. We cannot conceive of a religion that wills the good of all and who calls all—with no exception—to salvation, as being otherwise. The following verses in the Glorious Qur’an express this truth perfectly:

“And if you behave tolerantly, overlook, and forgive, then verily God is Forgiving and Merciful”. (at-Taghabun 64:14)

“God does not forbid you, regarding those who did not fight you on account of religion and did not drive you out of your homes, to show kindness and deal with them justly.” (Al-Mumtahana 60:8)

“Tell those who believe to forgive those who do not look forward to the Days of God; in order that He may recompense each people according to what they have earned.” (Al-Jathiya 45:14)

Indeed, when we look at the Qur’an we see that it is molded in love. In that respect, believing hearts must reclaim these beauties which are already ours, changing the negative image of Muslims. This negative image has been fed to the world and now we must once more communicate the essential facet of Islam to those who are presumed to be civilized, using the principle of “gentle persuasion.”

Let there be endless thanks to the Excellent Just One who feeds us with His bounty for the devotees of truth and heroes of love who have been carrying messages of love, tolerance, and dialogue all over the world and who are trying to build the “new image of the Muslim” with hearts full of love.

Seeking the Approval of God

Muslims continuously seek the approval of God; this is the greatest gain of all. In that respect, things that may appear as losses to some people are seen as gains by Muslims, while certain other events may actually be detrimental even when they appear to be lucrative. Moreover, we have no doubts concerning Islam, its holy book the Qur’an or its most glorious representative, the Pride of Humanity (peace and blessings be upon him). We know that Islam will certainly continue on the path that leads to the future despite all obstacles; every subject of the Qur’an is proven by reason; it is a book that is strong enough to solve all the problems of the future. The Prince of the Prophets, a man about whom Bernard Shaw said, “He solves all problems the ease of drinking coffee,” was sent to humanity in order to present the solutions for all of its problems until Judgment Day. As in previous centuries, the problems of our age and the coming ages, which seem to be far removed from a sound solution, will be solved by the architects of hearts and minds who base their solutions on these holy sources.

Indeed, we do not need to have any worries as we believe that the illuminating expressions and statements of the Holy Qur’an and our Prophet offer lasting solutions to a myriad of problems. Those who are equipped with these torches will suffer no loss, with the help and bounty of God, wherever they may go in the world and with whomever, they may enter into dialogue. Thus, there is no cause for concern. The important fact here is that we should understand the sources that we possess, and we should employ them as necessary. Moreover, we should not abuse them by associating them with our own faults, our bodily or earthly desires. With their assistance and guidance, we should seek only the approval of God and the afterlife.

Indeed, just as we have not even the slightest doubt concerning the Qur’an and the Prophet of God and just as we have no doubts concerning their justice, there is no reason why anyone should have doubts about us. But, if there still are some people who are frightened due to groundless fears, they will only be those people who are worried about the reliability of the dynamics and sources on which they rely.