In the beginning days of her time in Eorzea, Deirdre wanders aimlessly throughout The Shroud, scavenging for food and hiding from creatures in the trees. This whole time she travels with her infant sons, doing well to avoid any offensive confrontations, as she is completely without supply and unarmed. Luckily within a few weeks, she meets up with Sanctus Refero, a small group of adventurers at the time, as well as Shurin Mizune, a man of significant importance in her story. She also begins learning new skills, specifically with the spear.
All the while concealing her children, Deirdre worked with Sanctus Refero, saving gil to get off the streets, keeping her true heritage and intentions sealed. Once she was more comfortable Deirdre left Sanctus Refero after an argument with Alona, the leader of the little band.
Nearly immediately after leaving SR, Deirdre is recruited in to The Eorzean Guard, under
Once more comfortable in the company of her new companions, Deirdre begins to lead several events, including sparring and storytelling, for those within the company and outside. These are truly her golden days in Eorzea, for she is sane, level headed, and happy. It is because of this she ascends the ranks, and eventually is charged with training new recruits, albeit with unorthodox ways.
While still in The Guard, her world slowly begins to crumble, as her lover Shurin leaves for what he calls his 'duty'. Losing her stability she begins a downhill journey from here, becoming tense and prickly and going so far as to assault other members of the organization.
Soon afterwards the Guard is disbanded suddenly on the disappearance of their Commander Mtoto, and Deirdre resorts to wandering aimlessly.
Having little else to do in ways of making gil, Deirdre finds herself within the ranks of The Everwatch under Oskar Helvig, trusted with protecting The Shroud that she once wandered with her children. She also finds training in the elements, previously unexposed to her own magical affinities. Around this time, her true heritage is revealed and up until that point, she had been reporting Eorzean initiatives to The Empire. She is wildly criticized for this, losing her trust with almost everyone.
Despite that, she rises through the ranks of The Everwatch, again involved in training initiatives.
During this time on one of Shurin's brief returns, Deirdre becomes pregnant with his son. After finding out she is pregnant with Shurin nowhere to be found, Deirdre sparks up a more involved relationship with Oskar Helvig, afraid if she did not that she would be even more vulnerable while carrying the child. Their relationship, extremely negative and explosive, only festers her deteriorating hold on normal life.
After Falke is born, Deirdre reveals to Oskar that it is not his child, leaving him and subsequently the Everwatch. In doing so, she also abandons many who had grown to be her friends.
In the time after, Deirdre chooses to live a life of seclusion to raise her children. Training avidly but never venturing out on jobs, she becomes more recluse and paranoid. Shurin occasionally visits, and although their relationship is very fractured, he is the only light making her walk forward in her otherwise dark world. It is because of Shurin's desire to protect her and the children that she accepted his terms, and took to living in Falcon's Nest.
During her time as a stay at home mother, Deirdre forms an intense desire to read and learn from books of lore, acquiring them mainly from travelling caravans or other villagers, wherever she could. Her beliefs in The Twelve also intensify in her need to occupy her mind with something other than her situation, not the type of person to remain locked away tending to a family, despite wide criticism from others.
As the red moon begins to descend, Deirdre and her brood abandon waiting for Shurin to return as well as their home, hiding away in an unknown location for a period of time, staying near a group of devote Twelve worshippers.
Uncomfortable with remaining on the sidelines for the decent of Dalamund, Deirdre returns alone, aiming to find a way to stop the catastrophe, much calmer than when she had left. Soon after being mixed in to the current events and reuniting with Shurin, her world is turned upside down when he tried to kidnap Falke, their infant son. Deirdre prevents this, nearly killing Shurin in the process, and rejecting him outright. She adopts Navei's way of thinking, and now believes Dalamund is descending to purge the lands, and herself.
Rather rapidly her mental health begins deteriorating, becoming more prone to random fits of violence and hallucinations. This is not only due to her situation, but her lucid dreams bleeding over in to reality. She will go on tirades and sprees of blood-lust with barely any instigation, desperately seeking something to calm her mind, wandering alone. At this point a chance encounter with a man named Gospel Gestalt allows her refuge, and the alchemist supplies her with a drug to focus her mind.
She is now addicted.
Desperate to replace the hole left by leaving her children in another's care, far away from the impact zone of Dalamud, Deirdre takes on the job of protecting Gerik Aston, a Highlander caught up in the events around them. Almost obsessively, Deirdre will watch and keep guard over the man, overly hostile to anyone who dare wander near.
It is the night of the Gala that turns everything upside-down for Deirdre. The event was meant to find a way to stop the moon, until a fragment of it falls from the sky and in to the gathering. In the chaos and confusion, the ground splits and aether seeps from it, disrupting the natural flow and causing many who attempt to teleport away, to simply evaporate in to fragments of bone and ash.
During the fighting, Deirdre's lover Shurin pushes her from the incoming aether, seeping from the ground and making people vanish, and becoming absorbed himself. Distraught with grief and agony, she is pulled away from the battlefield screaming, and taken to safety despite multiple attempts to return to the place her love vanished.
For suns she is bedridden from emotion, locking herself away with only the Highlander Gerik as company, who is equally as distraught from his own loss. It takes much time for either of them to speak, or leave their refuge.
Soon after, the cities are attacked by monsters and Imperials causing Deirdre and Gerik to flee to the Isles of Umbra, where she builds a makeshift grave for Shurin. The two prepare for the final fight nearing, and Deirdre trains Gerik in the basics of archery and hand-to-hand combat. But, thinking him unfit for the battle, Deirdre ties Gerik to a Roegaydn named Wu on an outbound ship from Limsa in order to keep him safe before leaving for Cartenau Flats, and the final battle.
The moon is getting closer, and time is running out.
End of an Era - 1572;
Every feeling was frighteningly familiar, the moment she even began nearing the battlefield.
Mor Dhona, a place she was fascinated with from the beginning. A place that often stung her eyes with putrid toxins, but this sun there was no fog of purple hue, only the thick grey smoke and brown of lifted dirt, making it a sea of blur and unknown, through which her eyes could see clear.
There was this... inexplicable feeling within her, welling up within her chest she assumed quite near where her heart beat. Swelling... a burning fire pent up, wanting out, tearing out...
But she was silent, though it spread a wonderfully wicked grin on her face as soundless feet ran forth through the fog, stray bullets whizzing past harmlessly. It was quickly that she came from the camp up to the real fight, past a few corpses already lying motionless.
Breaking that final layer of fog she came upon the action; Imperial versus Eorzean. But... this seemed too meek, and it was. Here was the cannon-fodder... of each side...
She did not want to be in this battle.
Further away, Carteneau Flats, she knew this was where the better positioning was... where it would all happen. To get there she could easily cut through this battle, and through the cliffs.
As much as it welled within her, she did not give way to her blood-lust, shooting an arrow here and there when she had clear sight of an Imperial, running sideways while the others yelled at her and moved forward instead.
It was a double-take that caused her to pause, keen eyes snapping to a soldier hovering over a down Eorzean, a man in heavy gear unable to rise. The rifle rose the same time as her bow, but she had little time to aim, letting her arrow fly hopefully before the man could pull the trigger.
She struck him, in the arm, startling him... but he had fired his weapon anyways, and Deir had caught the spray of blood after the flash of fire. She had failed him...
Without waiting to see if the man rose from the likely fatal wound she turned and continued her run, expression furrowed in ire.
It took some time, too much time, to get to the Flats. By the time she had the battle was well underway; soldier on soldier, devices and spells exploding in the furious drone of aether. Atop a short, sloped cliff she was crouched; her leathers full body, tight to her skin and already dirty, tinged brown. Glancing up as an airship soared overhead azure locks fray from their braided binds, trying to escape in the wind and failing, settling against her cheeks, taunt with focus.
From here, there was no turning back.
Launching herself headfirst she slipped down the rugged slope, one hand out holding her bow, the other guiding her decent, icy clear eyes, wide and vivid, surveying the area. Mid slide, she steadies herself on her feet, pulling an arrow from her quiver and tugging it taunt, loosing it fluidly once she had her focus, hitting an Imperial rifleman in the side of the head a few yalms away.
Twelve... she wished she could keep track of how many she could kill.
Hitting the ground at a run she bolted to join the rest of the Eorzean forces, now heavily engaged. Many of them dropped like stones after a round of rifling, but the Imperials were met soon after with explosions of fire, lightning, wind and ice, anything the back lines could do while the front-lines regrouped. Giant, hulking men, and even small women, clad in armour reflecting only the flames of chaos and death, swing their swords deliriously, taking out anyone near them, all of it happening so quickly...
The noise above her was growing ever louder, the hum of aether and the clash of steel still useless at drowning it out. It was a sound she never heard before, a hum or droning... the moon, Dalamud, falling ever closer.
She did not glance up at it, as it frightened her to the very core. Instead she pushed on, deeper in to the battle, rubbing elbows with the mages.
Out of nowhere a soldier, Eorzean, flies towards her feet, skidding just past her in a ball of steel and flesh. She had no time to even look where he came to a halt, an Imperial soldier charging towards her.
Managing to loose a single arrow before he collided with her, Deirdre could not even tell where she had hit him, losing grasp on her bow as she is taken to the ground, wrestling with the fully grown Elezen man garbed in black and red.
Grunting, a fist raised at the woman, the man does not get very far, twisted to the side and on to his back, the lithe woman on top of him now with a dagger in her hand, raised.
Striking down before he could blink, he had no time to raise his arm in defence, and fell limp.
Pulling herself off the corpse, staggering to regain her footing, icy eyes find the man who had been previously tossed near her, the Eorzean. Lifting and arm to wipe the blood from her face she yelled at him, a mage already rushed to his side.
"Are you alright?!" She asks, padding to her bow and scooping it up. The hulking man nods, waving her off with a wince, and she turns again to survey the battle while azure strands escape the tight braid on her head and fall down her leather clad back.
It was becoming more and more difficult to avoid direct combat.
People were simply everywhere, endless waves, bigger than any confrontation she had ever been in. Avoiding close combat was the best solution, the safest, this as they were becoming more frantic, a battle she could not control.
Despite it all... it felt meaningless in the bulk of it.
She was alone, on her own, shifting from group to group, some forged friendships at each other’s sides... many bonded by their commanders...
She had left Gerik behind, the only person who had bothered with her then, the only one who remained with her after... after...
Distracted another near miss, a bullet, screams past her cheek, missing... but much too close.
She was lost.
She had no guidance, no orders... just killing was her goal. Yet, it was not enough. She was running around aimlessly, without cause or direction. But she saw the 'tek before the others did, and yelled out to those around her. "DOWN!" Before falling to the mud and covering her head.
With the blast safely over her she looks up, people around her on the ground as well, peeking up to look over at the toppling 'tek. Someone had taken it out, she assumed, and spent little time gawking over it.
Moving to help to help the Miqo'te beside her up she takes a foothold again, volleying arrows in to the Garlean line, fast approaching.
She had not meant to get as close as she was to the front, and the red of the sky seemed to grow brighter, lighting the field.
Deirdre stopped, feet planted firm and arms steady, firing another volley of arrows. The smell was rank, foul... ceruleum and blood, the pungent smell of sudden mass death making her tongue feel like metal. But it was met with familiar memories, the wave of it returning inciting dizziness... making her miss the scream of an Imperial charging her.
But no matter, for both of them were halted by the sudden snap that echoed over the whole field... making them all look up at something some of them had forgotten was there...
She was not the only one to glance up at the moon, which they had all been ignoring until then. It hung low in the sky, breaking through clouds... everything seemed as if it were on fire.
Cracks, could they be called that? Spread over, hued in blue, throughout the moon, a pattern lost to her eyes. Meteors, fragments of things streaked all around, fanning outwards...
The next few moments were a blur, at best. Once instant she starred up at the moon, the next something had shot out of it, burying deep in to the ground almost between the Garlean line and the Alliance... and very, very close to her.
Flung on to her back she could not breathe, gazing up at the red sky, the mud cool against her fully leathered form. Somehow she still had her bow, gripped in her hand, but it was another long tick before she could pull herself up, groaning in pain, and many near her who did not rise at all...
Standing on shaky legs, one of the few who were up around them, the entire field was chaos, confusion... no one knew what was going on, or what to do.
She was staring up at Dalamud again, which seemed like the very surface was being torn apart. The jarring of her shoulder snapped her gaze away from it, making her stagger back and turn towards the Imperial, not immediately realizing she had been shot. It was all numb, all a daze, she did not even need to tell herself to raise her bow, it was already done... arrow drawn back and loosed, connecting just under the face-guard of his helmet, in to his neck, sending him falling backwards with a splash in to the mud.
Starring at him, her body motionless as he struggled to breathe and writhed on the ground, it all came flooding back. The screams of the dying, the smell of the dead, the sounds of the living struggling endlessly to either end up laying in the mud or pressing on the pull and push of war. The Elezen, so skilled and so practised in this art of killing... could not move... only starring up at the sky, at the burning ball of flame descending upon them.
Another snap, louder and echoing in the valley, and then a bright flash of intense heat and light as if looking in to the sun.
... she thought of her children then.
So small and innocent... she had birthed them, carried them for moons in her very body. They were a part of her, and what had she done to deserve them? Nothing... she had granted them lives of destruction and ruin instead. How could she ever protect them? They could not protect themselves...
Crane, who was so like her when she was little. Running about, doing as he pleased, getting in to the most trouble he could and then washing it all away with a beaming smile, never a care.
Cygnus, who was so quiet and smart, following his brothers every step... silent curiosity, gentle in every way.
And little baby Falke... who was too young to know any different... who would never remember his mother...
She imagined them dead. Dead because of her... and that burning warmth within her chest ripped out, making her feel hollow, a deep stabbing pain... as reality came flooding back like the sudden stop at the end of a long fall. It was just like that... that something changed within her.
Inhale was the first thing she did, the smell of ash heavy in the air, coughing soon following. She was on her back, the sheer force of something having knocked her from her feet once more. Sitting up her focus was gone entirely. Looking about men and women from both sides were running past her, away, frantic. Dazed, she glances up, lips parted looking at what once had been the moon.
A Dragon. A King Dragon.
At that instant, she did not know if it had a name. She only knew it was bigger than any airship- any city she had ever seen... and that the very sky seemed to be on fire. She didn't move, couldn't.
A man pulled her up, garbed familiar, but she was unable to place it. He pushed her towards where the others were running, but she did not move as he went to the next soldier.
They were all going to die... such a creature, would set fire to the whole world...
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Her movement was sluggish, blinking the blur from her eyes seemed to take forever. Yet, when she could finally see again her eyes set upon silver hair... silver hair and dark clothes... armour.
She didn't care if she was running after a figment, she bolted forwards, unrelenting. She ran.
"SHURIN!" She screamed, the sound of her voice drowned out by the creature above, who had taken flight, peppering the lands with dots of fire.
She did not want to die alone, and there was no way she could fight such a thing. She did not want to die... she should have listened.
Tears were streaming down her pale cheeks, dirty with ash and flecked with blood, causing streaks. Nearing the group the ringing of aether began to make her dizzy, but she had to keep focus.
She had fallen, tripped over a corpse, on her knees now struggling to stand, bow still clenched in one hand. Coughing, gasping for air she pulled herself back up to her feet, dirty and unruly, leathers split in several places but most significantly at her shoulder, where blood still oozed out of a mud-caked wound.
'It was not him, he was dead...' she tried to remind herself, but there was also another voice too, screaming that if it was... she would be safe again.
"SHURIN!" her throat was raw, but she called out again anyways, nearing.
She was close... so close...
The sky above turned blue, the aether glowing so brilliantly but she would not look at it. Nothing was more important now, this was what death would be like. The following blast shook her, reverberating through her very core, but she kept her footing. Coughing away the dust after shielding her eyes she looked over to see them toppled.
Bolting up the rest of the way she twisted, turned, looking among them for her silver haired Hyur.
Panic was evident on her face, usually hard and icy eyes now wide and frightened, a gentle shade of blue as she continued to scream his name.
A strange stillness descends over the battle, the dust and ash and even the air itself seeming to hang motionless for a moment, as if the entirety of the world had frozen in fear before the fury of the dragon God. With an ear-splitting roar in the skies above, the great Wyrm made his rage known, a colossal flare of burning aetherial power radiating out from the centre of the field that instantly immolated all in its path. The earth disintegrated into ash, and the ash vaporized into nothing. Discarded weapons and war machines melted into formless slag, explosive rounds super-heating to detonation before being absorbed into the wall of indiscriminate destruction. The corpses that littered the battlefield were fortunate, their mortal shells beyond the realm of pain. Those who had waited too long to flee knew the truth of agony as their bodies were rent asunder by Bahamut's rage, their garments and armour transformed into body-shaped ovens and roasting their contents alive before they too burst into flame and were consumed. The screams of the suffering and dying echoed across the Carteneau Flats to reach those the ears of those who had made it out in time.
The wave of fire barrelled across the scorching earth towards Deirdre with all the speed and unstoppable force of a tsunami of flame. Just as the molten fire crashes down upon her a clear, resounding bell-like tone, as if a great crystal had been struck rings out, a transparent dome of crystallized aether shimmering into view over her. It was as if the very flow of time had stopped.
"I do not know whether I should be furious with you for your stubbornness or be impressed by your tenacity," speaks a familiar voice from behind her, calm within the eye of the storm. She had merely been standing there, starring out at the fire, as if awaiting to be consumed by death... but death was an ever fleeting thing... it was always there and then gone the next instant.
Confused and dazed she whips around to confront the voice, nearly crumpling to the ground when she saw him. Her face, tearing with emotion, is more exposed to her true feeling than it had ever been.
"I am... I am sorry..." she cries, unmoving and stuck where her feet were planted, legs shaking.
Shurin stands there with his hands aglow with aether, held above his head as if supporting the shield with his will alone. His full concentration is above him, holding back the fiery death, so much so that all he can do is grimace with effort and pain as his cloak burns away around him. "Now... isn't the time!" he mutters through gritted teeth. "Can you stand on your own?"
"Y-Yes..." she mutters, fear present in her eyes. He was so strong now, and she was so weak, like how it was all along. "I... I do not want to die..." she mutters, stepping forward towards him, reaching out.
"It would be better... to live another day.... wouldn't it?" His eyes flick down to meet hers, ablaze with aether. "Hurry... pouch on my belt.... teleportation... crystal...." A portion of cloak burns away, revealing a small pouch on his hip, its contents glowing brilliantly. "Use it to... get us out of here...!"
Her actions are more deliberate now, focused and urgent. Standing in front of him, closer, she shifts with his belt, searching for his crystal. "Please... please... please…" she murmurs, having so many things to say but unable to say it. Was it appropriate, when they were about to die?
Pulling the stone out she holds it between them, tears still dribbling over thick lashes and down her cheeks. Shurin clasps his hands over hers, making sure she grasps the crystal tightly. The tiny stone flares blindingly brilliant between them, its blue-white hue momentarily overpowering the orange-red flames of Bahamut's flare. "Hold on, and don't let go, alright?"
Gripping it tight she raises her other hand to grasp on to his arm, hair whipping about against her cheeks and her tiny, leathered form. "Please do not leave me Shurin... please... I am scared..."
Her eyes, half lidded and trying to guard from the bright light, look directly in to his, pleading. Shurin says something, shouting his words but they are muffled out by the roaring wind as the blue aether whips into a tornado of shimmering cool light. The world washes out to white, a faintly distant sound of shattering glass, and a warm almost soothing wave of warmth...
And then it as if her form is ripped to shreds. Her skin tears, burns and breaks as the crystal fails and the deafening whine overtakes her ears.
Then... all is simply dark.
In a single, pure instant of suspension, darkness envelops her. Death... consumes her. No pain, no emotion or thought, just sheer darkness, empty space all around. No memories... a state of complete nonexistence, over before the Elezen could get a true grasp of where or why.
The darkness disappeared as suddenly as it came, sucked out just like the air within her lungs was, making her insides devoid... empty... and burning.
Ripped out of her suspension she is tossed through the air, like nothing but a child’s toy. Harmless, until she hit the ground. Tumbling across the ashen lands, her body becomes a plaything, finally skidding to a halt among rubble.
Pain envelops her, searing stronger than it ever had, her lungs seeming to gulp in air only to be allowed to scream as loud as she was able. It is her first reaction, unable to move from where she had landed, but the screaming does not help ease the pain in the slightest. For bells she remained in such a state of pure agony, surrounded only by the dead corpses of friend and foe and the thick, heavy fog of ash.
Shurin was gone.