Sion Gyr
Inquiry Into a Soldier
Any Ul’dahn can tell you the story of the Ala Mhigans, and it usually goes something like this: The highlanders were a ruthless and brutal sort who fought for the sake of conquest, but when the Garlean Empire rolled in and served them a taste of their own medicine, they fled and cried. Worse still, they came to Ul’dah and beggared and stole in order to survive, until they were forced back to live in that ant hill they now ironically call Little Ala Mhigo. There’s no shortage of scorn when speaking of the Ala Mhigans, and most of us will tell you that they earned their current pitiful existence. But as ever, the Mithral Eye endeavors to see the story within the story, and this reporter is here to tell you that for every dozen flea ridden highlander crooks and beggars, there’s one who managed to behave in a manner worthy of Ul’dah. This is the story of Flame Lieutenant Second Class Sion Gyr, a refugee of Ala Mhigo who didn’t take to the ways we resent the highlanders for, but instead faced his new harsh reality and persevered. Sitting in Flame General Blaque’s office, I’ve been given an opportunity to interview the man who has been Sion Gyr’s commanding officer for the last 18 years, and his greeting is exactly what you might expect of a career soldier. “First of all, it’s geer, not jur - the least you can do is correctly pronounce their names if you’re going to be asking after my men,” begins Blaque, and I can immediately tell that this isn’t going to be a charming interview. I ask the usual questions to break the ice, hoping to loosen the stern soldier’s veneer, but he holds fast and interrupts me in clipped words, “What do you want? Should I spin a yarn over Gyr’s rise from refugee to Flame Lieutenant Second Class? Or is this a gossip column? If so, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t follow the man’s sexual escapades.” Despite Blaque’s tone, I smile at his little jab. I do in fact want just that gossip, but not from this stony elezen. From the General I want to know what sort of soldier an Ala Mhigan makes. “He's a good soldier, if you ask me - knows his place, follows orders, and he's not a poor fighter to have at your side in the field, I can tell you that,” pridefully boasts Blaque. But by now it’s clear that I’m not likely to glean much more from the good General, so I say my polite farewells and move on.
Some Men Are Like Mountains
Just outside the Hall of Flames I catch a trio of young and fresh looking soldiers admiring me, and I’m suddenly glad that I chose to wear a short skirt for the day. I had hoped it would warm the General, but these young daring-do’s will serve just as well. It takes a brief strut and smile, and they’re pouring themselves open for me - and they don’t even mind that the topic is another man. “Well, he’s Ala Mhigan,” the tall blonde on the right unhelpfully begins. But the short redhead in the middle seems a little more willing to expound for my benefit. “Gyr’s big. I mean big - like… I can’t even reach high enough to show you.” “Aye, but he’s not like those Little Ala Mhigan barbarians,” adds the dark-eyed, good looking one on the left. “He’s more like…” “Like a mountain!” exclaims the small redhead. I can’t help but smile at the little one’s excitement, and as I stand there and bat my eyelashes, the trio paint a vivid picture of a man that they very clearly look up to. And I can’t help but daydream of a big man with a rumbling voice and an easy smile. I laugh when the little one strongly emphasizes that Lieutenant Gyr certainly can’t be classified with the Ala Mhigan beggars, because he actually wears clothes. And then I blink when the tall blonde finishes with, “If you’re looking for him, watch for a man with mismatched eyes. One’s light blue and the other’s orange. Yeah, I said orange.” A tall, good looking Ala Mhigan with mismatched eyes that actually wears clothes. Sadly, in Ul’dah, that’s all too rare a sight. But before I go and meet the man himself, I would like a little more perspective. So I head for the home his father keeps for himself and his wife, along the way musing how strange it is that Lieutenant Gyr isn’t an orphan and his parents live within the city proper.
Three Sides to Every Story
Having spoken with Lieutenant Gyr's family and friends, I decide that it was finally time to track down the big man himself. But, of course, along the way, I would stop and gather what I could from anyone else wishing to pitch their two gil - after all, maybe one of them might know a little bit more about Xenedra's comment. Unfortunately, no one did, unless you count the attention paid to his sex life. So, finally, I contacted the very subject of my column and sat down over drinks. By now he's every bit the man I expected. I'm not allowed to sit until he's taken my hand, bowed over it, and he's pulled out my chair for me. Brynhilde is proven right in that it's refreshing to meet a man who still holds to the old etiquette that makes a woman feel like a woman, and I happily sit back and listen over a glass of wine while he answers my questions in a rich baritone rumble. But the end comes all too soon, and he asks me not to directly quote him - save for one brief exception - when writing his side of things. It's disappointing, to be sure, that such a man is content to leave his image in the bias opinions of others, but it also speaks of an easy confidence, which I now believe is the very source of the very same opinions. At the end of the day, I'm left exhausted with very sore feet. But as I pen these words I can't help but wonder at the difference between the family Gyr and those poor souls aching in Little Ala Mhigo. For so long the highlanders were known for their might and honor, and in one swift action they fell to nothing more than the dirty vagabonds that plague us today.However, in meeting Lieutenant Gyr, his parents, and even Brynhilde Wulfe, I'm reminded that these were once a mighty people, and they have it within themselves to be mighty again.
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