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Description
(Pictured above is the author's mother during her long winter sojourn with the author's father at his estate in Ishgard.)

After she had been laid to rest in an elaborate tomb built in her honor by my father, laid at the side of an effigy created for him for the day when he himself would pass away, on which other side was laid to rest my own foster-mother, the Lady Lucia, my father spoke with tears in his eyes to me about my true mother, the Warrior of Light.

I could hardly believe that someone so legendary, so powerful, so beloved in the eyes of all the world, could have been my own mother, the woman who had carried me, labored, and given birth to me. But how, then, did she remain unaware of me? And why was this kept hidden from her, and from me? How did my father and foster-mother manage to keep this secret for so long? Who else knew about this? So many burning questions raced through my mind then; my father obliged me by sitting me down for a very long conversation about it all, after my mother had been laid to rest at Saint Reymanaud's.

She had been under a very powerful enchantment, he had told me, having come under the spell of a crone. How this came to be, none of the former Scions of the Seventh Dawn who had gone in search of her knew; not even the great Y'shtola Rhul, who sought every way to study the enchantment that had enthralled the Warrior of Light, could declare with certainty how the spell had gripped her so powerfully, though it had not gripped her permanently. Sadly, no one was ever able to locate this crone, even though they had searched far and wide for her.

My mother never knew that she had carried me, and neither did my father. The year I was conceived, they had spent the entire freezing-cold winter together at his estate, seldom ever emerging from the home in which I was to grow up. Once summer loomed nigh, my mother was off again on another adventure - it was, as my father told me, in her blood; she could not refrain from it. She journeyed far to the north, into Ilsabard, traveling with Ser Estinien, but over time, word had not come back from either one, and my father and other of their friends began to grow anxious.

When Estinien at last returned, he was travel- and battle-wearied, and his recollections of what had occurred were extremely hazy. He could scarcely remember that he had journeyed so far north, and it was then understood that my mother had disappeared without a trace. With desperation my father made preparations to set out then and there in search of her, but was forcibly restrained by senior members the House of Lords and House of Commons, whose contentions had grown so great by then that there was threat of a potential civil war breaking out because of political factions and rivalry, and only the presence of my father could maintain stability in so heated a political climate. For a national leader, never had he felt so powerless in his entire life...

Instead, one young squire bravely stepped forward to go out in search of the Warrior of Light: Honoroit Banlardois. He had once served as the young page to Emmanellain de Fortemps, younger son of Lord Edmont de Fortemps, former head and count of the House de Fortemps. He was still young, but felt honor-bound to seek out and save the life of the Savior of Ishgard, no matter the cost; and cost him it did, for he perished in the process of saving the lives of my mother, whom he found comatose, and me. We had been tended to and cared for somehow, but nobody was able to explain who or what had cared for us, only that we were safe and sound, thanks to noble Honoroit's sacrifice.

Yet over a year had gone since he sallied forth from Ishgard in search of the Warrior of Light, and somehow word reached back to my father's ears that the Warrior of Light had died, so that soon that very word circulated all across Eorzea. There was great mourning then, but none so much as by my father, who retreated into his residence and refused to be consoled, had it not been for the timely intervention of my own foster-mother, Lucia goe Junius. Always had she been faithful to him, loyal to a fault, unfailingly obedient to him, ready to the death if ever the need should have arisen, and such comfort did my father find then in her presence, and having come to terms with what he thought was the reality of my mother's demise after several dark months, he wed Lucia, and together they went on to have ten children of their own, my beloved half-brothers and sisters, as dear to me now as they always have been. Ever am I grateful to her for my upbringing.

My father could not well explain the details of how we were found, only that we were brought by way of a vessel of merchants to Old Sharlayan, where the Warrior of Light was instantly recognized, though a one-year-old infant as her companion was a mystery. It didn't take the Sharlayans long to come to the realization that I was her child, and when the Scions flocked to my mother's side, it was Y'shtola who instantly acknowledged my identity. I was immediately sent to my father in Ishgard, and there it was decided that I would be taken in and raised by my father and my foster-mother, though it would never be told to me that I had been born of another.

"Why?" I asked my father.

"As painful as it was for me," he said, "the pain of it would have been heartbreaking for your mother."

And so it was heartrending indeed, for when at last she came out of her coma, my mother felt that no time had passed since her journey north into Ilsabard with Estinien and now, even though it had already been nearly two years since. Alphinaud Leveilleur took it upon himself to explain to her in detail all that had transpired, but for as much as he was wont to leave no stone unturned, even he could not bring himself to break the news that my father had married in light of the assumption that she had perished. But one of the first journeys she took was to Ishgard, and when she came, Lord Edmont de Fortemps embraced her as though she were his own daughter (for so he had always regarded her), and took her into his house to welcome her, and there explained to her in detail that great changes had taken place in Ishgard since she had departed, and there she was able to grieve, hidden from the eyes of my father.

"You must understand," Lord Edmont said in his kindly and gentle manner, "he was inconsolable in his grief for you. He was not alone, of course." He paused as he said so, glancing away in reflection at his own memory of the experience. "But Lucia came to him in his darkest hour, and was of such comfort to him. I pray that you would but wish him the greatest joy and contentment, my Lady."

After several days thence, she at last mustered the strength to bring herself to agree, and was then able to meet with the Viscount and Viscountess de Borel. To the Lady Lucia, she wished her the greatest felicity in her new estate. In private to my father, she rejoiced to see him thus cured from his grief.

"I will always love you, with all of my heart," he said to her. "That can never change." As a token of his pure affection, he removed the earring from his left ear, which always he had worn, and gave it to her. When my mother was found in Gridania, having passed away from what some have deemed a broken heart, she had this her most precious possession clasped in one hand. Today, she has it still clasped in both hands, entombed in the cathedral, forever recognized as my father's legitimate wife, and I as their legitimate son.

- Aymeric II, Prince of Ishgard

Description
(Pictured above is the author's mother during her long winter sojourn with the author's father at his estate in Ishgard.)

After she had been laid to rest in an elaborate tomb built in her honor by my father, laid at the side of an effigy created for him for the day when he himself would pass away, on which other side was laid to rest my own foster-mother, the Lady Lucia, my father spoke with tears in his eyes to me about my true mother, the Warrior of Light.

I could hardly believe that someone so legendary, so powerful, so beloved in the eyes of all the world, could have been my own mother, the woman who had carried me, labored, and given birth to me. But how, then, did she remain unaware of me? And why was this kept hidden from her, and from me? How did my father and foster-mother manage to keep this secret for so long? Who else knew about this? So many burning questions raced through my mind then; my father obliged me by sitting me down for a very long conversation about it all, after my mother had been laid to rest at Saint Reymanaud's.

She had been under a very powerful enchantment, he had told me, having come under the spell of a crone. How this came to be, none of the former Scions of the Seventh Dawn who had gone in search of her knew; not even the great Y'shtola Rhul, who sought every way to study the enchantment that had enthralled the Warrior of Light, could declare with certainty how the spell had gripped her so powerfully, though it had not gripped her permanently. Sadly, no one was ever able to locate this crone, even though they had searched far and wide for her.

My mother never knew that she had carried me, and neither did my father. The year I was conceived, they had spent the entire freezing-cold winter together at his estate, seldom ever emerging from the home in which I was to grow up. Once summer loomed nigh, my mother was off again on another adventure - it was, as my father told me, in her blood; she could not refrain from it. She journeyed far to the north, into Ilsabard, traveling with Ser Estinien, but over time, word had not come back from either one, and my father and other of their friends began to grow anxious.

When Estinien at last returned, he was travel- and battle-wearied, and his recollections of what had occurred were extremely hazy. He could scarcely remember that he had journeyed so far north, and it was then understood that my mother had disappeared without a trace. With desperation my father made preparations to set out then and there in search of her, but was forcibly restrained by senior members the House of Lords and House of Commons, whose contentions had grown so great by then that there was threat of a potential civil war breaking out because of political factions and rivalry, and only the presence of my father could maintain stability in so heated a political climate. For a national leader, never had he felt so powerless in his entire life...

Instead, one young squire bravely stepped forward to go out in search of the Warrior of Light: Honoroit Banlardois. He had once served as the young page to Emmanellain de Fortemps, younger son of Lord Edmont de Fortemps, former head and count of the House de Fortemps. He was still young, but felt honor-bound to seek out and save the life of the Savior of Ishgard, no matter the cost; and cost him it did, for he perished in the process of saving the lives of my mother, whom he found comatose, and me. We had been tended to and cared for somehow, but nobody was able to explain who or what had cared for us, only that we were safe and sound, thanks to noble Honoroit's sacrifice.

Yet over a year had gone since he sallied forth from Ishgard in search of the Warrior of Light, and somehow word reached back to my father's ears that the Warrior of Light had died, so that soon that very word circulated all across Eorzea. There was great mourning then, but none so much as by my father, who retreated into his residence and refused to be consoled, had it not been for the timely intervention of my own foster-mother, Lucia goe Junius. Always had she been faithful to him, loyal to a fault, unfailingly obedient to him, ready to the death if ever the need should have arisen, and such comfort did my father find then in her presence, and having come to terms with what he thought was the reality of my mother's demise after several dark months, he wed Lucia, and together they went on to have ten children of their own, my beloved half-brothers and sisters, as dear to me now as they always have been. Ever am I grateful to her for my upbringing.

My father could not well explain the details of how we were found, only that we were brought by way of a vessel of merchants to Old Sharlayan, where the Warrior of Light was instantly recognized, though a one-year-old infant as her companion was a mystery. It didn't take the Sharlayans long to come to the realization that I was her child, and when the Scions flocked to my mother's side, it was Y'shtola who instantly acknowledged my identity. I was immediately sent to my father in Ishgard, and there it was decided that I would be taken in and raised by my father and my foster-mother, though it would never be told to me that I had been born of another.

"Why?" I asked my father.

"As painful as it was for me," he said, "the pain of it would have been heartbreaking for your mother."

And so it was heartrending indeed, for when at last she came out of her coma, my mother felt that no time had passed since her journey north into Ilsabard with Estinien and now, even though it had already been nearly two years since. Alphinaud Leveilleur took it upon himself to explain to her in detail all that had transpired, but for as much as he was wont to leave no stone unturned, even he could not bring himself to break the news that my father had married in light of the assumption that she had perished. But one of the first journeys she took was to Ishgard, and when she came, Lord Edmont de Fortemps embraced her as though she were his own daughter (for so he had always regarded her), and took her into his house to welcome her, and there explained to her in detail that great changes had taken place in Ishgard since she had departed, and there she was able to grieve, hidden from the eyes of my father.

"You must understand," Lord Edmont said in his kindly and gentle manner, "he was inconsolable in his grief for you. He was not alone, of course." He paused as he said so, glancing away in reflection at his own memory of the experience. "But Lucia came to him in his darkest hour, and was of such comfort to him. I pray that you would but wish him the greatest joy and contentment, my Lady."

After several days thence, she at last mustered the strength to bring herself to agree, and was then able to meet with the Viscount and Viscountess de Borel. To the Lady Lucia, she wished her the greatest felicity in her new estate. In private to my father, she rejoiced to see him thus cured from his grief.

"I will always love you, with all of my heart," he said to her. "That can never change." As a token of his pure affection, he removed the earring from his left ear, which always he had worn, and gave it to her. When my mother was found in Gridania, having passed away from what some have deemed a broken heart, she had this her most precious possession clasped in one hand. Today, she has it still clasped in both hands, entombed in the cathedral, forever recognized as my father's legitimate wife, and I as their legitimate son.

- Aymeric II, Prince of Ishgard