Reflections of Vanya Elentari
We arrived in Limsa Lominsa. The city felt alive in the way only port cities can — salt, ship-tar, ex-pirates everywhere pretending they’ve found religion or honest work.
I was brought before Admiral Merlwyb, and the strangest chill ran through me. I’ve never met this woman before, and yet I had. I remembered her rallying troops under a storm-wracked sky, her voice unyielding even as hope faltered. A memory that wasn’t mine, tied to that vision I still don’t understand.
She treated me politely enough, if brisk. I suppose she has no patience for wide-eyed wanderers who stare at her like ghosts. I tried to compose myself. If she noticed anything amiss, she was gracious enough not to say.
Later, I wandered the city a bit, trying to steady my heart. The odd gathering around the aetheryte was still there — people posing, laughing, practicing their little rituals. I almost welcomed the absurdity. It felt safer than thinking too long on memories that didn’t belong to me.
