Thine Brother’s Keeper pt.1

A ship is an orchestra out on the ocean.

The waves lapping against the hull on the open ocean are the percussions, keeping time. The ropes in their pullies, the creaking masts, and the sails straining against the breeze are the woodwinds, the backbone of the ensemble. The first mate is the brass. They need a deep voice as a base, loud enough to be heard across the whole ship stem to stern. It keeps the orchestra grounded, in check as it carries them through the journey across the open waters before them, but they also need to hit those high aspirational notes for when the stormier parts of the song are brewing.

The violins? The voice of the orchestra, the ones telling the tale of the voyage of the song, those are the sailors on the deck, and the gulls up above. Sure, the Captain is important, conducting the crew and ensuring they’re all moving in the right direction… but if the voice isn’t steady, if there’s too much pitch, not enough speed, or their playing notes not even part of the music of the whole, it all comes apart just as sure as the turning of the star.

Rosetta can hear it, clear as a bell, as she comes onto the deck; this ship is finely tuned in every quarter. Sailors sing a sea shanty in unison, a tale of merfolk and maidens and the salt-dogs who dared to try at either. The first mate barks orders across the ship from the quarter deck as they prepare to put out the topsail, and really open her up. Rosetta walks to the starboard railing, and looks out onto the horizon. A school of dolphins plays a few hundreds yalms off the starboard bow, wavering closer as they consider coming alongside the “Herald’s Song.” She smiles to herself as she thinks of the ship’s moniker. Griggs loved the name as soon as he heard it, before he even clapped eyes on her in Limsa, he knew it would be a good ship. “Tha’s a ship’s name well and true,” he said, “you can always tell when a Cap’n loves his ship. She’ll ‘ave a proper name.” The hulking mountain of a Roegadyn always found a way to romanticize these things and steer the conversation back to her father. Even carrying two large chests down the gangways of Limsa Lominsa, he found a way to slide it in.

She loved it as a child, loved hearing about her parents… But these days it was less of a reminder of the heroes she saw her parents as, and more of a push to become something she wasn’t. The hyur didn’t pay it much mind this time, though, uncharacteristically.

Probably too distracted.

Three Nights Ago…

The wooden creature on the stage taunts her. She’s faced a thousand if she’s not faced a million monsters before, but those 52 white teeth look back at her and she finds herself nervous. She takes a seat on the harpsicord bench, her purple satin dress sitting underneath her while her crow tattoo peaks out the slit on the side. She can feel Hokonin, her Miqo’te bartender, pretending not to be watching her as she sweeps up behind the bar. Pushing the gaze of the woman in the purple kimono out of her mind, Rosetta takes in a sharp breath and puts her fingers on middle C, when the front door of the bar opens with a clang.

“H–Hello?” A young ashen skinned Au Ra asks, stepping cautiously through the door.

Startled, Hokonin steps through the large portal door from the kitchen to brush the newcomer away. “Oh, miss, I’m sorry we’re not open—”

“Kaede?” Rosetta asks from the stage, the brim of her purple hat, coloured to match her dress, sitting just above her eyeline. “It’s—It’s Kaede, right? We met the other day clearing out the castrum.”

“Oh good! You remembered!” She says stepping past Hokonin who still meekly tries to bar her path. Small in stature, even smaller than Hokonin at not even 5 fulms, her look is that of grace and elegance, but her demeanor holds fear and uncertainty. “I was asking around Gridania about you, and someone mentioned the Chocobo’s Rest, s–so I thought I could…” She looks to Hokonin who smiles back at her with a look caught somewhere between annoyance and pitty.

“You were looking for me?” Rosetta gets up from the harpsichord bench and makes her way to the stairs on the side of the stage. “Why?”

Kaede Faeore clears her throat, and stands a little more proper, almost as if switching to a more official stance. “You mentioned you were selected by the Twin Adder for the mission because of your ability to find things. Well… I need you to help me.”

Rosetta’s head lurches back ever so slightly, as she rests her right hand on her hip, looking Kaede over, sensing a sort of desperation behind her voice to go along with the bravado. “Help you find what?”

“Whom,” She corrects, a firmness in her voice now. “I need you to help me find my brother.”