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Proper reference images and reference for other jobs still to comeGunbreaker

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This will be updated as new stories are writtenStory 1: Intro & Bozja
An introduction to Nya' Zem and her originsStory 2: Memories of Love Long Lost
A story of Nya's journey through Yanxia post Bozja Incident and her first crush

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Story 1: Nya's Introduction & Bozja

This short story explores the origins of Nya’ Zem.As these events take place long before the start of the game, there are no major story spoilers outside that of the Bozja Incident, a side story for the Shadowbringers expansion’s relic quest.Length
4,293 wordsContent Warnings
War, Occupation, Death, Grieving, Killing, Post Traumatic Stress/Trauma, Mention of Alcohol Abuse

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Story 1: Nya's Introduction & Bozja

Chapter 1: Introductions are in Order

Nya’ Zem.You, dear reader, may be intimately acquainted with a name most similar, no? If not yet, it is of no consequence, for Azemya is widely known as “the Warden”, Keeper of the Sun and Goddess of Inquiry. In fact, most people’s reaction to Nya’s name is bewilderment.“Is that really your name?”, to which she would only smile. She knows for fact that it’s certainly not what her mother called her, but a nickname placed upon her by friends when she was six.Attending a public school in Garlean-occupied Bozja, her love of dance made her the natural pick to perform the part of Azemya in a play about the Twelve. Mischievously introducing herself onstage as “Azem’Nya” caused quite a stir among the elders in the audience, the children however found it hilarious. Her friends referred to her as Nya’ Zem to avoid disrespecting the true Keeper of the Sun. After all, who would want to anger the divine?Those who ask her name will simply be told that it is Nya’. She never gives out her real name and no ally, not even the Scions of the Seventh Dawn with whom she would become very close to would become privy to it.Nya’ had the great fortune to be blessed with the echo, making her a prime candidate to undergo the training to become a shrine maiden. Shrine maidens are revered among the Hrothgar and it is from them that queens are selected to rule over the myriad clans. But Nya’ took all her inspiration from her father, Guthere, a Gunbreaker in charge to Queen Kvena. She had no desire to become a shrine maiden, regardless of the arguments she would have with her parents.As a child she was tall enough to tower over other children her age. She was a tomboy, despite her continued love of dance, and easily combative. Yet underneath that shell was a girl who deeply empathised with others, unafraid to stand up for the weak and confront those who would bully and hurt for gain.Eventually her father gave up trying to persuade her to become a shrine maiden, instead focusing his efforts on martial training to develop her skills and teach her restraint. Following an incident when she was ten that left three boys requiring chirurgeon care, restraint was key. He would gift her a wooden training blade, complete with a working trigger that struck a metal plate to sound a loud snap so he could tell when she ‘fired a shot’. He would train her in the art of the Gunblade.Shortly before her twelfth birthday, her mother was incarcerated and charged as a suspected resistance member, and typical of “Garlean Justice” was executed without due trial for what her father described as “a mockery of justice” for “being in the wrong place at the wrong time”. Overcome with grief and finding no solace in the bottom of any bottle, he joined the Bozjan resistance himself.Over the next two years, Nya’ would continue her training whilst near enough flunking out of school except for art and dance which she continued enjoy. But as the phases of the moons passed, her father started to miss training sessions, he'd stay away for days at a time, or turning up late at night and something just felt... off.She had a dream.Nya’ stood in an alien place, floors and walls covered in lines of light inside a massive cavern made of sickly orangish crystals. She turned around to see herself, but taller, perhaps older, and staring right back at her with deep green eyes aglow and a grin that seemed almost menacing. Though she struggled to look away from this mirror image, she noticed the impossibly large wings engulfing the cavern, and their dragon owner looming over the now writhing older simulacrum of herself who screamed in pain whilst clutching her head. No, not the other, something shifts and Nya’ was the one clutching her head, her throat on fire as she screamed in terror and woke up, in the cold of her room, drenched in sweat.She would say nothing of it to anyone, but the dream would return a few nights later. But on the third occurrence her father shakes her awake. “Grab your things! We need to leave, NOW!”

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Story 1: Nya's Introduction & Bozja

Chapter 2: Escaping Bozja

“Grab your things Nya’! We don’t have time!!” Guthere shouted. Nya’ had never seen her father so panicked. He wasn’t even that rattled when the Garleans raided their house, searching for clues to connect her mother to the resistance after she was put to death. Nya’ sat upright in her bed, still and in shock until the noise of the city invaded her senses.It started as distant pops and snaps which echoed in her head as an underlying rumble took shape. The loudest thing was still her father, hurriedly throwing clothing from her drawers into an old sack until the sharp, descending tone of a large projectile pierced her ears and ended in an explosion. She screamed.“DAD! What was that?!” Nya’ demanded.“Fighting, my cub. We need to leave, the city is no longer safe,” her father responded.“Why? Who’s fighting? What’s going on?” the fear set in as the danger took form.“We are, with the Garleans to free our home, but you and I…” he paused for a moment as if to contemplate, “…you and I have been told to leave the city.”“What? Why?” she queried as if somehow the response would mean everything made sense.“Do not question it. Just... Just get ready, we leave as soon as possible” and with that Guthere left the room.Nya’ still felt dazed, the normally cold blue static light from the night sky and the Garlean streetlamps had given way to a warm orange that danced along the ceiling, and slowly the smell of smoke and destruction filled the air.‘This can’t be happening,’ she thought to herself, spinning her legs round and slipping out of bed, examining herself for any signs that this was just some kind of dream. Two arms, two legs, markings still in the same place and…. Yes, tail is there. Then, and only then, did the severity of her reality kick in, and adrenaline rush to her.‘WE NEED TO LEAVE!’ She confirmed in her head, rushing to a pile of clothes she lifted out a pair of heavy woollen trousers, a hempen camise and a thick ramie poncho to keep the night cold at bay.She reached for the handle of her bedroom door then paused and looked round at the wooden training gunblade by her drawers. Another moment passed before she picked it up and ran to join her father.“Dad I’m ready,” Nya’ announced.“And not a moment too soon,” Guthere stood across the room with his back against the wall, head turned to try and look out the window next to him. He wore a long brown leather jacket under which a black leather waistcoat just barely fastened due to his bulging chest, itself trying to hide a decidedly plain shirt. The coat was adorned with brass fasteners, and two belts that crossed in the middle, with pouches and holsters for aetherically imbued charges for his gunblade, which was strapped to his back.Nya’ thought it best to move quietly towards him in a half crouch, as well she did when a Garlean patrol ran past the window. Guthere pressed himself against the wall as best he could and she ducked in behind the dining table, still adorned with dishes, one empty having fed Nya’ and the other with an assortment of dried meats and bread, untouched.She held her breath as the patrol stopped. They mumbled something outside the window, before moving on. Nya’ released the breath she had been holding captive and, with the fear of being heard by the Garleans gnawing at her, mouthed to her father.‘What do we do?’“We act natural,” Guthere responded in hushed tones, “and you follow my commands, every word Nya’. Do you understand?”This was a version of her father she hadn’t seen before, it felt alien, as if the kind-hearted father whose voice had only ever exuded warmth towards her, had now drawn cold. She didn’t say a word, only nodded in stunned silence.“Your boots Nya’, quickly,” Guthere snapped the next command at his daughter to which she quickly followed, pulling on her slightly older and by now getting a touch too small, boarskin boots. He continued to keep watch.“I’m ready,”“Good, it’s time to go but… we may not be back for some time,” he advised.The two took a moment to take in their home, a simple kitchen, dining area and communal space. Images of the past danced in Nya’s mind as she panned her gaze. Her father sitting by the fire telling stories. Of her sitting at the table tucking into a meal. Of her mother, by the stove pouring her love into every morsel of food. A feeling of dread mixed with nostalgia left her fighting back tears. She turned quickly on her heels and followed her father out of the house for the final time.They stepped out into a warzone. Whatever noise was heard from inside, doubled or tripled in volume as they stepped outside. Gunfire, both from gunblades and the Garlean’s magitek weaponry rung out over the rooftops. Mixed into the staccato symphony was a nightmarish choir of soldiers shouting, combatants screaming, and civilians and children crying.The cold night air greeted them next, catching their breath in gentle clouds as they began to walk. It was a clear, starry sky that should have greeted them, marred and obscured as it was by the thick black smoke from fires and explosions. Warm orange light and cold dark shadows danced playfully across the buildings.“This way,” Guthere ordered, “a few blocks from here is a chocobo and cart, you will hide in the back with the ‘goods’ and I will ride up front. Once hidden, you say nothing, you do nothing. Do you understand?”“Yes, but why do–” Nya’s question was cut short by a curt interjection.“I will answer what I can later, my cub. For now, please. Our lives depend on it,” his voice, she felt, was devoid of feeling.They rounded a corner and broke into a jog, though came to a halt at the turn into the market plaza as the smell of ceruleum warned them of imperials ahead. An engine roared to life as Guthere peeked around to investigate before turning back to Nya’.“A small platoon and a magitek weapon, they’ve just started to move to the far exit. We wait a moment then head across the plaza, our ride should be next to the general store.”That ‘moment’ felt like an eternity with the sounds of fighting bouncing off every surface to attack them. An errant missile shot above the roofs right over their heads, landing some few blocks away in a muffled explosion. Guthere peeked round the corner once more.“Now, run!” he commanded and the two broke their cover, staying as low as possible. Nya’ looked to the distance and saw the stabled chocobo and their cart, it would be a pain to get the bird out and hitched, but better this than have it dart from the noise of the fighting.Arriving outside the store, Nya’ looked about nervously for any signs of imperial troops but found none. Guthere meanwhile had already thrown the stable door open and started to move the chocobo in place to hitch it to the cart.“Get in the cart, hide and stay silent,” he commanded. Nya’ climbed in. It was filled with an assortment of goods including dried foods, medicines and an variety of cloths and leathers. She lifted the cloths and slid underneath leaving a small hole that looked out the side. The din of the city was muffled under there, it felt safe. She felt herself disassociate to the gentle rocking of the cart as her father finished hitching it.“Nya’, are you in there?” he asked, Nya’ gave a pause before responding positively, “Excellent, if I could not see you then any patrol we might encounter won’t. We’re headed now,” and with a sharp “HIYA!” and a crack of the reigns, they were underway.From her limited view of the outside world, it was difficult for Nya’ to work out where they were, she could only tell that at some point they had reached the outer suburbs as buildings became more spaced out, and they were possibly about to leave the city. Even the gunfire quietened down the further they travelled from the Castrum. It seemed to be going well, until…“HALT!”They stopped abruptly at the command.“You there, savage! Where are you going, what business do you have at this time of night?” came a clearly Garlean accent.“I’m just a merchant concerned for his goods, there is no coin in it for me should my wares perish,” Guthere responded in what Nya’ knew was a clear lie. She remained silent.“And what merchant carries a weapon of the Queen’s Guard? You think me a fool?” came a thinly veiled challenge.“These roads are dangerous, and I would protect myself and my goods. You think us safe just because you are here? Listen to the city weep!” Guthere snapped back. She could feel the tension rising and feared the worst.“Step down, and take off your weapon… savage!” the imperial commanded.Nya’ felt the cart rock as her father’s large frame left the cart. She saw an object being placed next to her hiding place, his gunblade. She watched as he came into view, faced the cart and dropped to his knees with his hands behind his head. The soldier stood between them, and swiftly kicked Guthere in the stomach forcing him to fold. He flinched, but slowly righted himself.Nya’ saw an opportunity and planned it in her mind. “Emerge, grab the blade, take down the soldier,” she thought as the adrenaline flooded her. She repeated the steps in her head. “I have to save him!” she told herself as the soldier’s next kick landed.As silently as possible she slipped free of the cloths, and for the first time, held a real gunblade in her hands. It was heavier than expected having only ever held her practice blade. The imperial gave another swift kick, clearly distracted by his current entertainment.“YOU FUCKING SAVAGE!! You think I want to be out here dealing with the likes of you?!” he shouted as he spat at Guthere’s form, now winded and on the floor.The rage rushed to Nya’, she stepped onto the side of the cart and leapt at the soldier, “LEAVE MY DAD ALONE!!” she screamed, bringing the blade up behind her head and descending for the strike. The imperial turned around to look.It was fine when her target didn’t have a face, but suddenly there was a person in front of her, and that person was clearly in fear for his life. Her training took over, the blade sank through the skin between his neck and shoulder, cutting cleanly. Her finger seemed to move of its own accord pulling the weapon’s trigger. The flash of the charge assaulted her eyes with a loud bang. The following few seconds passed slowly, as now out of control she fell into the soldier sending them both tumbling to the ground. He was dead before they reached it.Dazed and lying on her front, she pushed herself up to find she was on top of the of the imperial, his motionless face staring at and far beyond her. She scrambled backwards and screamed with tears flooding down her face. She had just killed someone.Her father raced to her, but she didn’t hear anything he said, whether it for the crying or she just chose to ignore anything being said to her in that moment.“Nya’! Oh my cub! It’s okay, it’s okay my sweet, sweet girl!” he attempted to soothe her. He had sat behind her, legs splayed either side and wrapped his arms around to hug her tightly. In her terrified state of mind though, Nya’ flailed her arms in a futile attempt to defend herself before feeling the warmth of her father against her back. She stopped screaming for just a moment, teetering on the cusp of tears barely able to breathe for the short, sharp breaths she was able to catch.She swung herself around and bawled like a cub into her father’s chest.

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Chapter 3: Onward and Eastward

The gentle swaying of the cart stirred Nya’ from her sleep, the sky above was now a light hue of blue. It was morning. She found herself wrapped in cloth with a bundle of leathers acting as possibly the worst pillow she’d ever slept on.“Dad?” Nya’ rasped out, her throat still sore.“You’re awake? Good,” an uneasy pause hung between them, “How do you feel?”“I… I don’t know,” she responded. Truthfully her bones ached, her head pounded, she was scared and wracked with guilt. She felt terrible.“You cried yourself to sleep in my arms. So, I made a bed, wrapped you up and we continued onward,” he advised, skirting the obvious subject. The silence grew awkwardly.“Dad, I… I killed someone,” Nya’ said, eyes transfixed on her own hands. The cart stopped abruptly.Guthere stood up from the drivers’ seat and stepped back into the cart. He sat, somewhat uneasily on the cart wall, it was a tight squeeze given the size of him.“I know, my cub. I know. And I’m sorry I put you in that position I just… I lost sight of our goal, I let my anger take over.” Guthere’s head hung low, “it could have jeopardised your life, I’m sorry.”“It’s… it’s okay? It’s just. He was hurting you and I… but then he turned and I saw…” Nya’ attempted to piece the fragments of the moment together again, her eyes welling up.“Stop, Nya’,” He chimed in, “I know. Even my first kill was harrowing. But it gets easier… if you still want to train that is.” Nya’ sat in silence, contemplating. “You don’t need to answer now but, take your time and let me know. When we reach the next town, we’ll trade out your wooden blade for a real one. Now we’re on this path, we’ll need to defend ourselves and protect each other.”She sat in thought while her father climbed back into the front. The journey resumed again when another thought about the previous night surfaced.“Dad, why did we need to run? What happened with the fighting?”
Guthere didn’t stop the cart this time, he slid across slightly and patted the seat. Awkwardly, Nya’ stepped over and squeezed into what little space remained.“The resistance was set to attack the Castrum, to kidnap Midas nan Garlond, stop his mad schemes and liberate Bozja from the Garleans. I would have joined them but Queen Kvena… she demanded a sudden audience,” he regaled.“Queen Kvena asked for you?” she asked, surprised. Of course, she knew her father was in service to the Queen but how did this involve her?“Yes, so I attended her court. Her shrine maidens had one shared vision. Though they did not know exactly what it meant their consensus was clear – that coupled with another maiden’s vision of a horrific fate which caused us to fight – you had to be moved out of Bozja and kept safe from the Empire.”“What? Why?!”“I don’t know, my cub. I don’t know how or why these visions happen. Some say they commune with the dead and the spirits. Some think they commune with our Star itself. I’ve certainly never heard such voices, but I cannot deny the will of my Queen.” There was a bitterness in the final statement, a resentment for the order that took him away from Her side, robbing him of his duty to protect his Queen.“What about this horrific fate? What’s going to happen?” Nya’ continued to bombard him questions.“I don’t know, my cub,” he repeated, “Just something so terrible that some believe that Bozja’s very future lies in the balance.” The two of them considered what it might mean.“So… where do we go now?” Nya’ asked.“East, following the base of the mountains of the Skatay Range. We cross Dalmasca towards Yanxia and try to avoid the Empire as much as possible.”“And if the Empire follows us?”“We keep moving East until we reach lands beyond their reach.”The two Hrothgar sat in silence for the next few hours. Nya’ contemplated the truths laid bare, replaying the previous night in her head until she ultimately reached the conclusion she couldn’t tie all the disparate pieces together neatly, and instead focussed on her empty, complaining belly.She jumped into the back of the cart, pulled out some dried meats and offered some to her father. Sated, and feeling a little more resolved, her voice sliced through the awkward silence.“I will…”“What?” Guthere turned to look at her, confused.“I will continue my training,” Nya’ clarified, “You said I might need to defend myself, or protect you. So, I’ll continue.” Her words exuded a confidence that her voice and face could not match and he saw right through it.“Then I will continue to train you as long as you wish,” he offered, choosing to ignore the self-doubt she unknowingly communicated, instead showing that he would support her as her father and her mentor.Nya’ picked up her training sword and started swinging, though she found she was mostly fighting for balance against the rocking platform of the cart as it trundled across the uneven road, falling more than once on her tail. Undeterred she would get back up each time and resume where she left off as the two of them continued their journey Eastward.When they passed through villages they sold some of the wares in their cart to purchase provisions and Guthere enquired at the blacksmith to forge a gunblade. They learned that the rebellion was crushed at the hands of the young magitek protoges Cid nan Garlond and another who would eventually rise to the rank of Nero tos Scaeva. As a result, the Empire passed a nationwide ban on producing or selling gunblades to strangle any further hope of freedom amongst the subjugated Hrothgar.The final village before the Dalmascan border however would grant their request in secret, but the hurried job produced a vastly inferior weapon. It was too heavy, with a blunt blade, the trigger was stiff and on the rare occasion it did fire, it would jam. But it was still a weapon, and Guthere would use his years of intimate knowledge of them to refine it into a serviceable gunblade that Nya’ would cherish forever.They kept moving East. They made camp near the border, Nya’ had that dream again. She was standing, looking at the older simulacrum of herself, a tiny morsel for the immense dragon that hung in the cavern behind her. This time, instead of her, or her mirror image screaming, the dragon roared its deafening call. A warning. A challenge. A roar of his… triumph? She felt his overpowering presence begin to press upon her soul, a crushing weight with an unbearable heat that made her struggle to breathe when suddenly, it ended.She was alone, in darkness.“Hear…” A calm voice calledNya’ turned, to see nothing.“Feel…” The voice continuedShe felt herself float upward.“Think…” The voice gently commanded, Nya’ looked up to see she was floating towards a crystal, larger than the Bozjan Palace, or even the Castrum.“We meet at last, my brave little spark,” the crystal spoke to her as if both introducing itself for the first time while greeting their oldest friend. “Full glad am I that I can speak with you now, however brief, for I have waited on you for the longest time. In the years to come you will face many a challenge, so continue with your training for you will have need of it. When you feel you have nothing left to fight for, look to the shores of Eorzea and seek me there.”Nya’ wanted to ask a question but found she still had no breath in her lungs, the sensation pressed heavy on her chest, she woke up gasping for air. To her surprise, Guthere was still awake, staring into the distance. As she came to her senses she noticed the odd colour of the night sky, reds and greens and pinks lacing their way between the stars. Her gaze slowly moved in the same direction as her father’s, the light grew in intensity, the colours more vivid. She realised then, she was looking back from whence they came. Back, toward Bozja.“What have they done?...” he whispered.When Nya’ and Guthere finally crossed the border to Dalmasca, Bozja no longer existed.Only weeks, after the news has spread wider than the Garleans had hoped did they discover Bozja’s fate. The shrine maidens were right. Nya’ either couldn’t comprehend or wouldn’t accept it and cried for weeks at the loss of their home, of all of her friends, of all the people.Guthere wouldn’t speak of it, the Garleans hadn’t stopped at taking his wife, but now his comrades, his Queen. The only person he would live to protect now, was Nya’.And on to Yanxia they rode.

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