The training could wait.
The books, the blades, the bruises—just for a moment.
Today, Sebastien let the sea breeze do the talking.
And the sun remind him that life, too, is worth pausing for.
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Becoming an Arcanist meant setting the axe down.
It was formulas now. Glyphs, geometries, and math.
Less sweat. More thought.
And Sebastien, stubborn as ever, refused to let numbers defeat him.
Knowledge was power.
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The Rogues demanded balance. Grace. Control.
Not brute strength.
At first, every stretch felt like tearing. Every fall, a bruise.
But Sebastien endured—until muscle met movement.
Until he flowed like the wind between the blades.
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The Marauders saw him, laughed, and handed him an old training axe.
“Come back when your scrawny arms aren’t scrawny.”
The axe was heavy. His muscles burned.
But Sebastien swung it—day and night—until it no longer swung him.
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He had learned the pillars of Gridania—spear, bow, conjury.
Now his teachers sent him onward.
“Go. Learn the pillars of Limsa.”
And so Sebastien stepped off the deck, into salt air and steel shadows.
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Training was done.
The forest was quiet.
The river was refreshing.
Sebastien found a rock, a moment, and a little peace.
He’s waiting.
Will you join him?
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He thought the lance would come easy.
He’d trained his whole life.
But the masters called his form sloppy.
So he drilled. Again and again—until it was instinct.
Until he moved as one with the others.
Gridania would accept no less.
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Conjury was about listening.
Something Sebastien was not good at.
Earth answered. Wind followed.
Water came slower—harder. Healing even more so.
But still, they came.
Another pillar of Gridania. Faced, not feared.
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Archery. One of the sacred pillars of Gridanian martial tradition.
Sebastien pulled the string 'til his fingers bled. Missed more than he hit. But he kept going.
The bow would not beat him.
And when the arrow finally struck true — he smiled.
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"Learn to swing that thing," he said. "Maybe then you'll be of some use."
Now here he is: brooding in the Carline Canopy, equal parts disdain and daydream. Ready or not, the Twelveswood has a new Adventurer-in-the-making. 🌿💔
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📯 A new Hand touches the beacon...
Sebastien is the 7th son of a noble house — with far too little inheritance and far too many brothers. So his father gave him a pat on the back, a spear, and a one-way ticket to Gridania.
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