Arboreal Maledictions

This page has been archived here from official Square Enix sources. It was originally posted on 29/10/2013.

Our amazing analysts at the Adoulin Examiner are back with their third enchanting exposition!

In our last issue, the dynamic duo sought to question a quirky man dressed in black…but their valiant efforts ended in vain.

I wonder who he was, kupo…

Setting that aside, in this astounding article Fam and Owl attend to the magnificent mysteries of the Ulbukan continent.

To think! A genteel girl gallivanting through the wilds! Her family must be furious, kupo!

But this time, they took with them a young woman affiliated with the Order of Weatherspoon, which asserts authority equal to the omnipotent Order of Adoulin.

Why? Well, with exceptional exorcists like…what's his name…that's right, Vortimere! Vortimere commands the highest heights of respect.

You know, for many moons, men have told tales of the "curse of the forest"…could it be related to the exorcists, kupo?

"You and I both know that the best way to learn more about the colonization effort's progress is by going to the Celennia Memorial Library!" Familienne pursed her lips as she wagged a finger at Skeptical Owl.
Ah, yes, Skeptical Owl. Who else would the Elvaan be consorting with?

"And you're telling me this because…?"
"Tut-tut! No complaints out of you, Zegard!"

Famlienne had no apprehension about using Skeptical Owl's given name-after all, they had known each other for years upon years.

"Think of it as a sort of writing seminar! First, we have to figure out who our audience is, and once we start putting words to paper we'll have them eating out of the palms of our hands!"

Owl shrugged. Once Famlienne got a hare-brained idea into her head, no act of man or nature could convince her to give it up.

Still, her reaction was only natural, given the verbal lashing they had received from their editor. Their last article was more of a dissertation, and it strayed so far from the main topic of colonization that their readership was left scratching their heads as to what the point was.

But Famlienne was a fighter, and no harsh words would cause her to give up.
"All we needed to do was focus on colonization."
"If you say so."
"Yes, I do. Just keep it easy to read, and this time it'll be a hit for sure! That's why we have to keep our eye on the prize."
"Remember the last time you tried to 'focus on the big picture'? You were thrown out on the streets like last night's meal scraps!

Owl sighed. Ideas were nothing without proper implementation.

Famlienne had been visiting the Pioneers' Coalition every day like clockwork, pestering every Brenton, Eamonn, and Kithvalio in a vain attempt to pry information from them.

'I swear upon Altana herself, if you come here one more time I'll call the Peacekeepers to escort you out!'

"Was that any way for them to talk to a daughter of the Order of Woltaris? My reputation was besmirched as a result of the whole ordeal."
"None of this would have happened if you weren't so over the top. Adoulin wasn't built in a day, so why would colonization be any different?"
"But we need to know every last detail! That's why I've prepared this list of 256 handy phrases that could represent recent colonization events!"

Famlienne handed Owl the paper in a huff.

"Isn't it considerate of me to have prepared responses in advance? All they have to do is pick the most appropriate one!"
"You want them to choose from this list? Let's see… 'Can't be bothered', 'don't know which way to turn', 'nothing noteworthy', 'still in progress', 'gotta keep at it', 'somewhat looking up', 'neither this nor that', 'slowly but surely', 'made a bit of progress', 'progressing at a slow pace', 'made a bit of a leap forward', 'did my best', 'I've been a bit cowardly of late' … oh, come on. Are you serious?"
"Yes, that is all they have to do, and not a single thing more. These 256 phrases are our keys to journalistic success!"
"You look like you're celebrating some historic victory, when we both know…"
"Know what? All they have to do is choose! I was thinking of how to make it easier for them!"
"You've got to be joking."
"That's exactly what they told me, too! Just whose side are you on?"
"You've gone completely mad!"
"Shhh…we're almost at the library!"
Yet even when Famlienne lowered her voice, it still carried like a bell's chime drifting on the wind.

And so it was that Famlienne had become persona non grata at the Pioneers' Coalition and turned her sights to the Celennia Memorial Library instead.

The library was more than just a collection of dusty old tomes containing irrelevant family trees of ministers and maesters-it was a veritable treasure trove of pioneers' deeds, exploits, and travels throughout the Ulbukan continent. Volumes upon volumes expounded upon the flora and fauna, contained fresh perspectives on the founder king's foray into the wilds, and boasted memoirs of those who called Adoulin their new-found home.

"We're here to research, right? Well, let's get at it."
"I think I'll start with some of the older manuscripts."
"That leaves me with the latest reports, then."

That said, Owl set off to pour over recent testimonials, journals, and reports from the front.
A soft voice floated down to Owl's ears. Curious, he looked up.
Someone was standing on a stepladder nearly as tall as the Galka himself.
"What's this?"
Stretching his neck further upwards, where a dainty Hume female stood, reaching out toward the inner recesses of a shelf far above her head.
Though covered in long-sleeved robes, she could have been no greater than fifteen, perhaps sixteen years old.
No wonder she needed a monstrously large fixture to reach her quarry.
"Look out!"


"Just a little bit…. Aaack!"
"Damned fool!"
The girl's clog got caught on the edge of the ladder, sending her tumbling downward as the stepladder flipped on its side.
It would have been quite a drop to the floor below had Owl not reacted quickly, reaching his arm out to break her fall.

Luckily for the girl, Owl's bulky frame was more than sufficient to handle the force of someone dropping onto him. She was not light as a feather, perhaps, but Owl kept her safe with only a modicum of effort.
The girl had no trouble finding the book she was looking for, as it came spiraling toward the ground and landed on her head with a resounding bonk, luckily-or perhaps not.

"I, uh…"
"Ow, my arm…
…Are you okay?"
"Y-yes! I'm just fine!"
"Zegard, what's all this fuss? Oh ho, is this sweet tart the latest report on colonization?"
Famlienne's piercing gaze stabbed through the eyes of the young girl, still wrapped in Owl's arms.

"I-I don't know how to thank you. My name's Yumela."
"Yumela, if you need to get something on a high shelf, you should ask someone to help you."
"You're r-right."
Owl gave a strained smile as he reached to the ground and picked up the book she had been searching for.
"Oh? What's this book about?" queried Famlienne as she tried to steal a furtive glance at the title.
"Dunno what it's about, but the title is 'A Beginner's Guide to Purification'."
"Oh ho! And what would a little thing like you want with such a volume?"
Famlienne turned her gaze to Yumela once more, her eyes scanning up and down the girl's frame. Suddenly, the Elvaan let out a short gasp and clasped her hands together.

"I've got it! You must be from the Order of Weatherspoon!"
"That's right! H-how did you…Who are…?"
"My name is Famlienne, and my churlish companion who saw fit to manhandle you is Zegard."
"Fam…? You mean, from the Order of Woltaris?"
"Why, yes! How lovely to know that I have admiring fans!"
"Y-you're the daughter of a distinguished family of knights who's working as a reporter out in Ulbuka, right?"
"Exactly! Zegard, she's a clever one, isn't she!"
"You're the Headstrong Mistress!"
"The what!?"
Famlienne's shriek echoed through the otherwise silent chamber. Feeling the weight of a thousand cold gazes bearing down upon her, she smiled sheepishly.
"S-sorry for making you angry!"
Owl stifled a smirk.
"Mmmf, mmmf. I see her reputation for looking only forward precedes her. Can't say I disagree."
Famlienne snorted in a huff, though she was careful to keep her voice down this time.
"Who's the churlish one now? Forget that, and let's get back to this book. If you belong to the Order of Weatherspoon and are interested in this 'Beginner's Guide to Purification,' then that can only mean one thing…"
"That's right. I'm an exorcist-in-training."

An exorcist? Famlienne's eyes twinkled with a spark of curiosity. Of course, no one in Adoulin reaches the age of six before knowing what exorcists do for the city, but very few have the opportunity to actually see one in the flesh. Even if they do, exchanging words and earning their confidence is unheard of for all but the most important of city officials.
It doesn't help that each member belongs to the Order of Weatherspoon-a house of nobility far beyond the reaches of the common man-and holds a special place among Adoulin's ruling elite.

"Famlienne is hot on the case! So…what would an exorcist want in such a common place as a library?"
"W-well, I…"
Her eyes shifted back and forth, drawing little circles in the air.
"We can help if you need anything."
Yumela hesitated, falling silent for several seconds as she pondered her response. She eventually found fit to share her worries with the two.
"Did you know there's a new i-illness spreading throughout the city recently?"
"An illness, you say?"
"Some of those who go out onto the continent fall into a deep sleep after they return."
"Do you mean…?"
Famlienne seemed to recall something. And come to think of it, so did Owl.

The duo's first assignment as neophyte reporters was to search Ulbuka for an herbal remedy said to cure a fever-causing ailment. Could she be referring to the same malady?

"No one seems to know of anything to cure it, but I've heard that a certain plant taken from the forest is effective at relieving some of the symptoms."
"So it doesn't dramatically aid those who are suffering."
"Exactly. And worse, some people think it's not an illness, but rather a curse."
"You mean the 'curse of the forest'?"

Many exorcists had attempted rituals of purification, but to no avail.

"Maybe if Ingrid was here…"
"She's Lord Vortimere's secret weapon, silly, said to be the most skilled exorcist of them all. I've heard she's gone to tour the Middle Lands to acquire knowledge not found in our homeland."
Famlienne's connections as the daughter of nobility unsurprisingly gave her a certain insight into the movements of Adoulin's elite-an insight that one of common birth such as Owl was lacking.

"Ingrid is just so beautiful, and knows more than anyone about purging the land of evil spirits. You'd never guess from how young she was, but she has sent so many umbrils scurrying back to their place in the netherworld that not even the most venerable of exorcists can compare!"
Yumela's eyes flashed and an excited smile graced her lips.
"So, if she comes back…"
"I see. You think she'd be able to lift this curse."
"Yes, but…I don't think I can wait that long. That's why I'm searching for something, anything…"

No wonder she was after that primer, Owl sighed as he thought to himself. I suppose she did say she was new at all this…

"Why can't you wait?"

Famlienne knew the answer right as the words escaped her. Owl, for his part, was completely oblivious.

"Yumela, someone close to you is in trouble, aren't they?" Famlienne's initial skepticism was replaced with genuine empathy.
"Well, uh…I…"
Yumela's face turned as bright as one of the Civil Arboretum's tomatoes.
"Oh ho, my intuition never fails!"
"Why're you raving like some harpy?"
Owl furrowed his brow as he poked Famlienne in the back.

Ordinarily, the way he brutishly jabbed one of a higher class would have earned him the ire of the entire house, but Owl and Famlienne enjoyed a special relationship that transcended class.
"You've got no shame, do you?"
"I suppose I did go bit too far. I'm sorry, Yumela."
"Oh, no, there's no need to apologize. The boy is a…childhood friend of mine."
"He started working at the Pioneers' Coalition this past spring, and the illness took him not long after he returned from the forests. His fever has lasted for a week now…"
A new member of the Pioneers' Coalition who suddenly fell ill… Yes, Owl had heard of such a lad.
"I remember him."
"Do you know what caused it? Is there any proof that it was caused by the curse?"
"He…he doesn't remember much about that went on there. But something strange happened."
"Strange? In what way?"
"He mentioned a pendant that he lost there."
"A pendant, you say?"

The boy apparently dropped it somewhere in Yorcia Weald. Perhaps he had been accosted by one of the beasts lurking within-but if so, he had no recollection of the incident.

"One of my friends from the coalition went to look for it…"
"…but they weren't successful, were they?"
"Are you sure one of the nasties out there didn't pick it up?"
"They evidently thought of that, and sent some pioneers on a find-and-retrieve mission…"
"And they came back empty handed."
"Owl? You've had a flash of insight?"
"I believe so."
"The best idea of all-we go the last place he saw it. Fam, are you-"
"-I'm ready. Not that your idea is necessarily original, but it's a great opportunity for us to show our personal growth to that stuffy editor! Come on, Yumela!"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! Who better to protect you than me?"

Awfully sure of herself, Owl thought with a chagrin. And, as always, it falls to me to protect them both.

And so, for the first time in weeks, the reporter team headed to Yorcia Weald, this time with a young exorcist in tow. What made this journey different was that Famlienne was no longer hampered by legs that buckled after a scarce two hours of walking and she could now face danger head on rather than scream and turn to jelly.

"He said that it was somewhere around here."
Given the amount of time that had passed, neither Owl nor Famlienne were surprised that they turned up empty handed, despite combing over every errant branch and tuft of grass.

"Some damned beast or bug might have made off with it-but common fiends are no match for an adventurer's sword or spell."
"There must be some underlying reason for this. Have any more inspiration, Owl?"
"This might sound a little crazy, but something came to me when Yumela mentioned the curse. You know they sometimes appear when the sun sets."
Owl stretched his arms in front of him, stretching out so that his biceps began to tense.
"I can't tell if that's supposed to be fear or bravado. You remind me of an overzealous father threatening his son into submission."
Famlienne narrowed her eyes and glanced at him askance. Yumela raised her eyebrows and said in a small voice,
"You can't mean…."
"Exactly. Umbrils."

True to their name, the umbrils are a blight upon Ulbuka, shadows that only take form when darkness chokes the land. In a word, they sow chaos in the slimy furrow they leave behind. Their bodies, nebulous in shape, twist and contort like a nightmare upon the wind. It is difficult to even call them humanoid, as their legless torsos leave trails of blackened slime wherever they travel, and their arms are but amorphous blobs. Though lacking in bones, they nonetheless have teeth sharp enough to slice through an adamantoise shell like a hot knife through Selbina butter.

"Umbrils only manifest at night. During the day, they slink off to who-knows-where. I'll wager that those pioneers who came out here left at dusk."
"I've heard that the fiends sometimes curse those who cross them."
"Then everything is coming together. It won't be the most fun I've ever had, but if we just wait until nightfall-what's wrong, Fam?"
"N-n-nothing!!! Hahaha. Why would something be wrong!?"
"Then why are you wailing like a banshee?"
"Wailing!? Who said I was wailing!?"
"Oh, come on!"
"Thank you both for coming out this far with me. Please, I'd like you to wait with me until the umbrils come out to see if one of them took it."
Famlienne found Yumela's sudden burst of courage just a tad too disagreeable. The protector and protectee roles appeared to have switched.

Dusk settled on Eastern Ulbuka. The chirps and chattering of birds and insects gave way to the howling and grumbling of myriad abominations. Owl and company recited an incantation that would shield them from sight and muffle their movements, and climbed a safe, sturdy tree for a better survey of the ground below.

Without any fowl fluttering about to block their view, the three had a clear glimpse of what was happening below-and were safe from any would-be predators. The moon was full in the sky, its pale cascade of light shining through the canopy and illuminating the forest floor.

When the moon was at its peak and the three were about to nod off, a dull sound like something being dragged across the ground jolted the three to full alert.
The three fixed their eyes on the ground below.
Look-over there!

It was an umbril, mirroring the drawings in the library's tome portrayed them. Its ever-shifting form lumbered along-half above ground, half below-crawling slowly but steadily. Pioneer reports and anecdotes indicated that umbrils possess the uncanny ability to pass through both dirt and wall, with vegetation wilting and blackening in their wake. Though they were not strictly undead, their presence was accompanied by such a heavy sense of foreboding that even the most stalwart of heroes would be hard-pressed to hide their fear.

A sharp twinkle on the umbril's form caught Owl's eye, an unmistakable glint of metal dangling from the umbril's arm. Could that be-yes, it was! The pendant!

Yet as was often the case in the continent, all good news is followed by an equal measure of trouble. Their incantation started to undo at the seams, and the leaves on their perch began to rustle-or so was Owl's first impression.

Curse their horrible luck!

Owl glanced around him. The branches were bending awkwardly, as if the weight upon them had shifted suddenly. Confound it, were Famlienne or Yumela about to fall? Who was it!?
A tiny "Eep!" from Owl's right provided the answer. He whipped his head around, and there was Famlienne, grasping on to the limb for dear life, her legs dangling well below cover. Yet she was oblivious as to how exposed she really was.
Owl called out softly but crisply.
His voice shattered the spell for good, but it was a necessary sacrifice to get Famlienne's attention. She looked up at Owl, startled.
Their eyes met. In that instant, Famlienne's grip loosened and the branch she had been gripping onto rebounded upward as she tumbled to the ground.

Famlienne's posterior met the ground with a resounding thump, the moonlight outlining her agape mouth. The umbril froze in its tracks.
She'd been noticed.
It slowly turned its lumbering frame a full 180 degrees to stare at her.
And then it began to crawl.
"Fam!" Owl called out as he jumped down, placing himself directly between the two. He unsheathed his staff and brandished it menacingly before him.


"Fam, get outta here!"
He turned around quickly to catch her gaze and realized that his words had fallen on deaf ears.
Famlienne stifled back a sniffle and her eyes began to water.
Of course…she could barely stand the sight of slugs or snails, so it was no wonder she would be petrified of something similar, yet far more sinister.

"Damned fiend! No way I'll let you touch her!"
In an ideal world, it would be the paladin in front protecting the white mage, but this particular circumstance called for a bit of improvisation-and Owl was good at thinking on his feet.

Rustle, rustle, rustle, CRASH! Out of the corner of his eye, Owl spied a dainty form careening toward the ground. Though Yumela had attempted to jump, the end result was anything but graceful.

The umbril spied its opening, and swung its arm toward Owl's torso like a whip, connecting with a resounding squish. The galka snarled and raised his staff over his head with both hands, striking downward with all his might, but succeeded in doing nothing but covering his weapon in a translucent gloop.

He heard a soft chanting in the background.
A brief moment later, a blinding ball of light passed under his legs and struck the fiend in what likely passed for its abdomen, filling its innards with a brilliant white light. An unholy scream pierced the heavens as its body twitched and convulsed. Unflinching divinity filled every last crevasse of its twisted form and dark, viscous liquid begun to ooze out from its form.
Even the same spell takes different shapes depending on the skill of its weaver-and this was not the work of an amateur.

It only made sense that a being of pure darkness would writhe in unbearable agony when faced with such unwavering purity.

Not content to let things stop there, Yumela began to recite another spell, her words identical to the ones before. Exorcists' forte has always lied in more offensive forms of white magic. In other words, Owl had best be careful, for Yumela was unlikely to provide much in terms of backline support.

He who falls first loses, Owl thought as the corners of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. But no way will I be the first to go down. Fam would never let me hear the end of it. This was more than a struggle against a foe. It was a matter of pride, as always.
Owl raised a war cry and began to pummel the umbril with everything he had.

A second blast of radiance slammed into the unholy blob, and it began to quake furiously against the combined might of Yumela's invocations and Owl's redoubled pummeling.
A foreboding reddish-black fog swirled about Owl's form and began to envelop him.
"This must be the curse!"
It was only later that he learned it was referred to as "necrotic brume".

The umbril's form began to blur as Owl's vision grew cloudy. His arms and legs slowly stopped responding to his command, and his staff began to slip from his fingers.
It was time for the monstrosity to strike. It lowered its jaw and stretched outwards, rushing toward the Galka and threatening to consume him from the head on down.
Owl's arms began to burn as the beasts mouth came down on his shoulders and the blots holding his armor together began to dislodge.
Famlienne voice wafted to his ears…but from where? He felt the calm waters of healing wash over him, but he still received no succor.
"Altana…help me!"
His knees buckled…
…and he could swear the umbril flashed an evil grin at him.
Its jaw relaxed its death grip, only to open wide again in an attempt to bite back down, this time redoubling its fury.
The hairs on Zegard's arms began to stand on end.

"Zegard! You've got to run! Now!"
Owl thought he must be hearing things, because it sounded like Famlienne was right next to him. As he grimaced and looked up, his eyes widened, as his longtime friend had imposed herself between the two!

Right as the umbril was readying to chomp down on Owl yet again, Famlienne raised her tiny buckler and smacked it across the face, dazing her mark.
Altana's loving embraces wrapped around the Elvaan's shoulders, Famlienne was glistening with a brilliance that far outshone that of the moon above. She stood up straight and proud, facing the umbril with courage and conviction.
Sensing that feeding time would have to wait, the denizen of the dark turned to focus on the Elvaan. The Goddess of the Dawn was the mortal enemy of such a creature-and this was Famlienne's best chance.

"Now!" Owl cried as he rose to his feet. The Goddess's protection was not infinite, and there was only a small window to make their move. What's more, Famlienne's blade was likely to be about as effective in harming the beast as Owl's now drenched staff.
She was utterly dependent on Yumela and Owl's magic.

The two mages began chanting, but Yumela was just a hair faster. She must have some kind of quickening charm, Owl convinced himself. The searing white light cleaved the umbril in twain, and before Famlienne could draw her next breath, Owl's spell came crashing down with equal ferocity.
"This ends now!"
The umbril howled in agony as it convulsed but once before lifelessly seeping into the ground. A faint grunt not unlike the sighs of the three Adoulinians escaped its mouth.

Only a single appendage of the umbril could be made out amongst the liquid mass that remained-the arm that bore the missing pendant like an ill-won trophy. Yet that too slowly began to dissolve, seeping into the ground like well water into a potted plant. All that remained was the young man's bauble.

Owl scooped it up from the ground and ran a wrinkled cloth along its surface. As he turned it over to clean the other side, he noticed a series of letters engraved into the back of the locket dancing in the moonlight.
"Look at this." he said as he handed it to the approaching Yumela.
"It's definitely his pendant. See? That's his name right here."
Yumela held the pendant up to the light and angled it from side to side. She blinked three times in rapid succession, and Owl and Famlienne pretended not to notice her blush.
"Y-yes, this is the…right pendant."
"Then we've got what we came for. Come, it's too dangerous to stay here much longer. Let's go home via scroll."

Not only was such passage quicker, but it was undoubtedly safer. And as the curse had overtaken Owl, he was of no mind to stay out any longer than he needed to.
"You're right."
"You can go on ahead. We'll be back a little later."
"O-okay! I'll make sure to thank you in full once you return."
She removed a tiny yellowed parchment from her pouch, unfurled it, and read its words under the light of the moon. Her form began to twinkle and fade as she was teleported back to Adoulin.

Once she had vanished, Owl looked behind him. Famlienne had slumped to the ground where she now sat, arms wrapped around her knees.
"I shouldn't be surprised that you're all worn out."
Still, he thought it odd that she was barely moving.

"I…I'm a daughter of one of the Order of Woltaris's most decorated knights. How can I let anyone see me like this?"
"Anyone…except me?"
"Oh Zegard, you're not just anyone."
"W-what are you implying!?"
"We've been over this before. You've been important to me ever since I was just a toddler!" She said, extending her arms toward Owl.
"You're completely mad!"
"That why I'm out of sorts like this. I can't stand up on my own."
"And this is acceptable behavior for a daughter of noble birth?"
"Well…everything has its exceptions."
"Oh ho."

But Owl did not offer to help her up. Instead, he bent down, hoisting her limp form onto his back.
"H-hey! What are you doing!?"
"Stop squirming! You know those things are still out there!"
"Still out there!?"
Famlienne visibly shriveled up and clung to Owl's back for dear life.
"That's my girl," Owl said as he began to walk forward.

They weren't safe there. Maybe Famlienne would be able to get a hold of herself if they got a malm or so away from the scene.

"We're going home," he said gruffly.

"Right," Famlienne whispered.


The Curse of the Forest Revealed!

Dearest readers, without doubt you have heard the recent rumors of a strange illness bearing down on the town. Victims suffer from uncontrollable fevers and sometimes go unconscious for days-yet no one knows of any remedy.

In fact, some have taken to claiming that it is the curse of the founder king made manifest, punishing those who dare set foot in the jungle.

Is this really the case? If so, it must have something to do with colonization. We were not content with simple rumors, and thus decided to find out the truth for ourselves.

Our investigative reporting began with a trip to the Celennia Memorial Library, where we happened to come in contact with the friend of someone who was beset by the malady. This victim was assaulted by a creature in Yorcia Weald and fell prey to the curse while within its confines.

But just what kind of creature was it? Naturally, we proceeded to the weald with all due haste. As luck would have it, we managed to confront the beast who attacked the poor lad-an umbril.

One of your faithful reporters was infected by the curse laid down by this monstrosity. But fortunately-if that is the appropriate word-he did not come down with any of the symptoms characteristic of the strange disease.

In conclusion, we are unable to deny the possibility that some of those in pain encountered umbrils in the forest and succumbed to the malediction. However, that is all we are able to discover at this time.

It is still too early to tell whether the umbrils are the sole cause.

We must further study and investigate the phenomenon if we are to get to the bottom of this.

Fam and Owl, special Eastern Ulbuka field reporters

Female Elvaan
Famlienne is the daughter of Order of Woltaris nobility. At seventeen years of age, she never misses an opportunity to put on airs, and her long, silvery hair is her main pride and joy. As the daughter of a decorated knight, she has been trained in the arts of warfare— and though she had never previously put those skills to use in the field, her practical training has begun to pay dividends of late.

Skeptical Owl
Skeptical Owl is a white mage whose technological prowess is put to great use by the Inventors' Coalition. He prefers actions over words, and, given that he has known Famlienne ever since she was but a child, often takes it upon himself to reign in the Elvaan whenever she gets too absorbed in her task of the day. An avid reader, Owl often takes trips to the Celennia Memorial Library, where he loses himself in the encyclopedias of flora, fauna, and monsters.

Story : Miyabi Hasegawa
Illustration : Mitsuhiro Arita

Category: News

This content copyright Square Enix.