The Rosflame Chronicles

Chapter One: The Journey Begins

The steady creak of the wooden wheels and the gentle sway of the carriage set a rhythmic backdrop as the group traveled deeper into the Black Shroud. Kiona Roseflame sat quietly, his violet eyes scanning the vibrant greenery outside, though his thoughts wandered. The path ahead led to Gridania, a place unfamiliar to him, but it carried the weight of something more—something that felt like destiny.

Across from him sat two Elezen twins, both with white hair, though one wore a red ribbon in her hair while the other had a blue one tied neatly. They hadn't said a word the entire trip, their stillness unnerving, yet there was a calm, almost regal air about them that Kiona found strangely comforting.

Next to him, the merchant, who had spent most of the journey grumbling about everything from the state of the road to the price of ale, was rummaging through his pack, occasionally muttering to himself. He had yet to notice the small, fluttering creatures that had found their way into the cart—a trio of moogles, their tiny wings flapping lazily as they bounced around, clearly entertained by their new surroundings.

Kiona's gaze followed the moogles, watching as one of them—the cheekiest of the bunch—snuck up to the merchant's bottle, tipping it back and taking a long swig. The merchant paused mid-sentence, frowning as he felt the sudden shift of his bottle, but when he turned to investigate, the moogle was already darting off, snickering to itself.

"Huh, must've packed it wrong..." the merchant muttered, oblivious to the tiny prankster. Kiona suppressed a smile. While the merchant busied himself with rearranging his things, the moogles continued their playful antics, though no one else in the carriage seemed to notice them.

Kiona had seen many strange things in his life, but the moogles were something entirely different. Their small, fluffy forms and tiny, bat-like wings were almost too fantastical to believe. He had heard tales of them, but to see them up close was something else entirely. It seemed, however, that he was the only one blessed—or perhaps cursed—with this sight.

Just as the merchant settled back in his seat, the carriage slowed to a stop. Kiona turned to see a group of armored Wood Wailers stepping into view. Their green and gold uniforms glinted in the afternoon sun as they approached. "Routine inspection," the lead Wailer said, his voice authoritative and devoid of warmth.

The merchant immediately tensed, his hand instinctively going to his bag. "What's this now?" he muttered under his breath as the Wailer began rummaging through the contents of the cart. Before long, the Wailer pulled out a small vial of black powder, holding it up for all to see.

"Firesand," the Wailer declared grimly, his eyes narrowing on the merchant. "You'll be coming with us for questioning."

The merchant paled. "That's not mine! I don't deal with that kind of stuff!" he protested, but his words fell on deaf ears as the Wailers prepared to take him into custody.

Before they could act, however, a sharp cry echoed through the trees. The underbrush rustled, and from between the thick trunks, the Ixal emerged—birdmen with sharp talons and cruel eyes, their movements swift and calculated. They couldn't fly, but they charged forward on foot, their screeches cutting through the quiet of the forest. The Wailers drew their weapons, readying themselves for battle as the Ixal descended upon them.

The merchant, wide-eyed and panicked, ducked down, his precious belongings forgotten. The twins remained unnervingly calm, showing no sign of fear despite the chaos erupting around them. Kiona, hand instinctively reaching for his staff, caught a glimpse of one of the moogles lazily floating above the fray, seemingly unbothered by the danger.

But before Kiona could react further, the driver, clearly sensing the rising tension, whipped the reins. The chocobos squawked and the carriage jolted forward, leaving the Wailers and Ixal to battle in their wake.

As the carriage sped away, Kiona glanced back one last time, watching the struggle fade into the distance. His grip on his staff tightened, the weight of the journey ahead pressing down on him. He could feel it—this was only the beginning of what was to come.