Nameless Inkings

The following excerpts are from Final Fantasy XII unlockable lore bits in the bestiary.
They are unlocked by killing enough Bangaa.

Nameless Inkings

It was a clement day when my partner and I arrived at Nabudis at the end of a long journey.
I remember looking upon her beautiful, welcoming streets and realizing no other place could be more fitting a destination. Gathering up what coin we had, we secured residence, and began to look for work. From odd jobs to risky border patrols, we did all, and were satisfied.
Thinking on it now, I realize, I was happy then.

We were not particular in our acceptance of work, and so in a short time amassed enough wealth that we might live in some degree of comfort.
Our residence began to fill with the articles and artifacts of our daily lives, and soon we found our roots sunk so deep in the soil of this city, we could not imagine ever leaving.
Though I assisted my partner with work, we gradually came to seek out our own time, and so grew apart.
Yet, we were satisfied. Why need this life ever end?

Several years after beginning our life in Nabudis, there came a call for soldiers from the city watch. We had, by this time, made something of a name for ourselves, and so did a summons come to us.
We were not born in this city of Nabudis, yet our love for the town knew nothing of this, and we accepted without delay.
I was given to the border patrol, my partner to the defense of the city wall.
The night before I was to leave, we ate a splendid meal and drank such wine as we could afford.
It was as though we knew it would be our last meal together.

The days of my patrol were harsh, yet we finished our duties, and weeks later, had only to return.
That night, I dreamt.
My partner came to me, trying to tell me something, yet I could hear nothing but the blowing of a distant wind.
Perhaps I became homesick as I slept, for when I awoke, my eyes were wet with tears. In the dream, my partner had been unchanged, a perfect memory.
Our feet turned home, all our thoughts flying down the road ahead of us, faster than we might hope to walk, back toward Nabudis.

What awaited us upon our return was not a hero's welcome, but despair.
Gone were the beautiful palisades, gone were the families and friends that surely awaited us. Only a wasted, blasted land remained.
Then we saw the people of Nabudis, though to call them that is a jape of the bitt'rest sort.
They were the walking dead, hungering for life, and consuming all they found that was light and good. We fought them to save our own lives, and we wept.
Then, among the dead, I saw him. And I could fight no more.

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