Y'Sterrh Merlwyn

He was born on the outskirts of La Noscea and immediately abandoned.

However, as luck had it, he was close enough to one of villages where locals resided. On one of their occasional patrols, a villager heard cries of a baby from the bushes and, when she ventured in, she found a Miqo'te child wrapped in cloth, desperately clutching a small jaguar totem. Seeing no other choice, as she did not want to leave him to the beasts, she took the baby to her leader - Sterrlona Merlwyn. She took him in, as she did with any abandoned child or person - a ragtag bunch of nobodies was what they called her little family, but they persisted in face of all enmity. After counsel with some Seeker of Sun Miqo'tes who were with her, they deduced that the child must have come from the Jaguar clan - thus giving him the prefix Y. And the incredibly imaginative Sterrlona decided to give the child a part of her name in order to establish his position even though he could not talk.

His name was now Y'Sterrh, and he was family.



Time seemed to pass fast for him - the whole childhood was a blur, more or less. He does keep fond memories of the years spent near the Moraby Drydocks, especially of people he got to know. Amongst them, there was one person most eager to cause mischief with him, his partner in trouble and his most beloved friend. However, as his family had to keep moving - a band of outcasts could never stay in one place, even if some members decided to settle - those friends quite quickly became a thing of the past, joining the blur of ever-changing scenery of his memories.



After the Calamity hit, his family fell apart. Their numbers were already thinned by people settling in various places they visited, or growing up and leaving; and when the Calamity struck, most of those who survived fled to nearby villages and settlements, hoping for safety. Sterrh was the only one who stayed with Sterrlona, in the end. He was only 16, but he knew where his home was, is, and will be - by his mother’s side, through thick and thin.



Not too long after the Calamity, Sterrlona decided it was time for them to settle, too. As they did not need to run anymore, they chose to live in the never sleeping city-state of Limsa Lominsa. There, he became acquainted with the Dutiful Sisters and, following in Sterrlona's steps, the two handed axe. His small stature did not stop him from fully utilizing his strength and rage, and he had enough rage for a person twice his size. But never fully gave up on the Sister’s ways of subterfuge and trickery.

Being labelled as the one who grew up with a "ragtag bunch of nobodies" taught him a lot about Limsa Lominsa's underbelly and the corruption that ran rampant - and, once he was able to travel to Ul'Dah, his rage only grew, and grew, and grew…



It was when he was nearing the end of his 19th year of life when a friend of his, Ravness Scherwill, proposed that they should find jobs as adventurers. Hungering for a better life, Sterrh agreed to it and used the funds he had to start teaching himself the crafts. In order to ensure a good future for him and his mother, he thought, he should hone as many skills and take as many chances as he can - you never know when something can come in handy.

His rage against the injustice and wishes for better life were his main drive for quite a few years. And, at the age of 21, when he received an invitation to join a fight for higher cause - for preservation of Eorzea - Y'Sterrh took it gladly and blindly.

He fought, cut, carved and bled his name into the minds of every beast tribe and the entire populace of Eorzea. He fought like a man possessed, hoping to burn the world as it is and create a new future.

In time, the thirst for betterment was quelled by the sheer amount of tasks needed to be done - in his youthful eagerness, he took on each and every duty and chore, guided by hope it will all pay off in the end. But, as time passed, he realized the only reward he will see is more and more chores, more and more tasks, and more bloodshed.

Nevertheless, he persisted. As Sterrlona did, as his family always did, he spit in the face of every adversity and moved forward with any means possible.

When time came, he chose Merlwyb as his leader - as much of a rotten underbelly Limsa had, she actually tried to make it as clean as possible, yet stay true to the soul of the city-state. Or that was his belief, at least.



And he kept fighting, tearing through every obstacle on his path, straight to the snowy lands of Coerthas - where he finally met a man who shared his childlike hope for betterment, and belief in the better future.

Haurchefant.

And he fell for him like a fool, heads over heels - warming his bed whenever he visited Camp Dragonhead; fighting all battles that needed to be fought with renewed vigor; and very much enjoying all the attention from Haurchefant.

“Rush blindly forward without concern for your health, and you will one day pay the price,” was something that stuck with him, but those words held no meaning for him until much later. And he fought, fought, fought…

Then, the ship was found, and the Garlemald's invasion brought to halt - however, that was not nearly the end of the fight.



The silly little boy Alphinaud has decided on creating the Crystal Braves, as yet another force that can help bring balance to Eorzea. However, that led to discoveries of traitors, long chases, and restless nights spent trying to root out every piece of poison ivy stuck in the Immortal Flames. That did little to quell the rage Y'Sterrh felt every time he thought about Ul'Dah and the way it functioned.

And then... Moenbryda. The woman who gave her life to save his and many others, and whose death has helped develop means to erase Ascians. Moenbryda is dead, and with her death, his mother, who has so far always been by his side, has also disappeared. He knows that he will never see her again. So he makes a solemn promise to her, Moenbryda, and himself. He will unravel the mystery Ascians present. Along with the promise, he sets away the knives and takes up his mother's arms to be the protector, as he can't count on her to protect him anymore. He also makes sure to visit the Mark of the Scholar, for both Sterrlona and Moenbryda; and his own peace of mind.



It was around that turbulent time that he spent more time with Alisaie, and when he met his best friend - Rheya’a Azeris. Unravelling the secrets about the effects of the Calamity proved to be a perfect bonding exercise for the two, and the archer Miqo’te was an ally he often called upon in future fights. Rheya’a’s fiery temper proved to be an excellent way to practice patience, as well as the dry humour he was developing a taste for - and so, the two bickered endlessly, growing closer with time.



He spent a lot of time in Mor Dhona after that adventure. Climbing the Crystal Tower with the aid of enemy-turned-possible-acquitance-and-current-ally whose smugness had a certain charm to it, proved to be quite an endeavour. But it was a duty that had to be done, and he has done it with the help of many adventurers who joined him all across the realm. That was the moment where he finally was not the oh-so-holy Warrior of Light - the title whose expectations he could only shed in Haurchefant's bed - and that was the moment where he realized that this... might not be what he wants to do.

Nevertheless, he pushed on.

“Rush blindly forward without concern for your health, and you will one day pay the price.”

Sterrh found a home away from home with the Fortemps; and his love for Haurchefant only grew during time spent in Ishgard. He learnt to release his anger through the blades of his weapon; he even started accepting the gaping wound Sterrlona's disappearance left in his heart. Battles with heretics mattered less to him than the secrets hidden deep in the Holy See, along with the deceptive words and alliances spun and built by the Archbishop Thordan VII.

He tried to not think about how his path is already laid out for him, and lived in the moment - travelling to new regions, finding new enemies to challenge him, growing closer to those already close to him. In this span of time, he met the man that will one day become his husband - Kaaru Yun, one of Haurchefant’s partners. With him by his side to spear the attack, no challenge felt truly impossible.



And so, the days, weeks, months passed... and the Archbishop's true nature was laid bare by his blood and his faithful companions chasing after him.

And, in one singular moment, all that Sterrh had came undone.

For no shield could stop the tempered spear; for no armor could soften the blow; for no magic could pull his beloved from death’s grasp. And the promise he made - to protect and discover - never felt more like a curse, nor did he feel more like a failure. All that he could do in that moment was hold Haurchefant in his arms, as life slipped out of him and he wasted his last breath to tell him how a sad face doesn’t suit a hero - you look so much better when you are smiling.



But he was no hero. He never chose to be a hero.

So he let the rage overtake him, and he ate all the hits Thordan had thrown at him with defiance and fire in his eyes. From the Vault to Azys LLa and the stage of their final battle, he took every hit, every blow. He pushed on, not allowing even Ysayle’s death to faze him - it was just another hit he had to take to get to the Archbishop. However, striking Thordan with blow after blow until he was almost unrecognizable did little to ease the pain.

So he let all of his emotions run rampant; becoming the weapon he so dreaded being. It was as if, in that instant, the world became black and white. He was the force sent to purify the world, and he let his rage help him in that.



In the time it took him to finally get to Nidhogg, Sterrh started growing apart from Kaaru - and had already met Fray. In the brief moments of respite, he took off with him to learn the ways of a dark knight; it seemed only appropriate after what took place. It seemed only right. Because who defends the feeble from the transgressions of those meant to guide and protect them?

Time passed and he honed his skills, sharpened them to the point of cutting himself open; but it was all for… what? He did not know. Not anymore. Still - he pushed on.



When he saw the spectral hand help him pull Nidhogg's eye out of Estinien's armor, Sterrh did not need to look to know who that was. And so, in his moment of triumph, he was left in shambles, crying and wailing like a child who lost his way after playing too deep in the woods.

Not having the strength to face the Fortemps. and in an effort to ease his conscience, Sterrh took up healing - being an astrologian meant that he could have a reason to stay in Ishgard for just a bit longer…

But Hydaelyn - or however the fate is called these days - had different plans for him. It was time for him to journey further; he did not ask why, nor did he pay it much heed. Torn in two, with memories haunting him and him hunting them, he has served, slain, healed, prayed…



Those days spent in Higanshi and Othard were a haze, hurrying from one part of the continent to the other, saving one group of people from the other, always alone. Fray has seemingly left; and all of his friends were in Eorzea. After all, travelling to lands torn apart by war and inner conflict is not a decision easily made - and he did not blame them.

However, there was one place in particular that he felt drawn to - the Azim Steppe. To be more precise, Nhaama’s Retreat, the Dotharl, and their unyielding belief in unending life that only changes vessels. There, he felt he could believe anything; and he felt the two sides coming to a compromise.

The order he was tasked with seeking; and the chaos this lack of choice stirred up in him were finally coming to agreement. An unplanned visit to Ul'dah led him to X'Rhun Tia and the balance of red magic; in it, he saw a chance to pull himself out of the fog, to make the agreement final, and so - he took it. One job stone to both heal and fight; with it, he could be self-sustainable and protect anyone.

With it, he could've protected…



It was on Prima Vista where he rediscovered his passion for creating and discovered a passion for acting. Time spent there helped him further balance the feelings he had been repressing for so long; and it also led to one, quite important, chance reunion.

While he was helping the unfortunate Lexentales, he was a part of a few bigger operations in the lands between east and his home. It was on the last of the three, in Orbonne Monastery, where he saw Kaaru again - even though it was only for a brief moment. It was not until later, when he was looking at the housing ward of Shirogane, when he encountered him. As they both had the same goal and not quite enough gil, they agreed to get a piece of land together, fully disregarding the time that has passed, and the last event that has transpired before they disappeared from each others’ lives.



As for Fray… He lent his sword and words to Sterrh one last time, as they fought Myste - a child who took half of his job stone and the aether stored in it; a child that looked as if it was borne out of Sterrh’s grief and guilt; a child that bore semblance to both the beloved Haurchefant and forgotten Ysayle.

Hearing Fray speak to Myste, the words tore him apart and sewn him anew; all the edges that have worn off were remade and put together again - he understood, finally, that the weight he carries is there for a reason. Memories are there for a reason. All that has transpired may have no reason, but he could find one. Any reason to keep on pushing; to fulfil the promise and to finally be free.

“Listen to my voice. Listen to our heartbeat. Listen… I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you.”

And then… At the very moment he felt at peace for the first time in years, he had been torn away from this world and thrown into the First.

With Rheya’a next to him, he entered the Syrcus Trench. He woke up alone in the endless expanse of light, to be a weapon forged anew. Ironically, he noticed, this time he was to be a weapon of darkness - right as he finally balanced out the dark and light in himself, he had to change… Again.

Little did he know, he would meet another side of him. A balance. Dark to his light, light to his dark - one to become a part of him as much as his beating heart is.



It was in Kohlusia where he found Rheya’a, stranded in this world for almost a decade and covered in Darkness which unknowingly protected him from the overwhelming Light of this world. The despair in short Miqo’te’s eyes when he saw him, and the denial of the reality crushed his heart like almost nothing could before - and he did all he could to assure him that he is there; that they will return, together. That hurried his hand to try and resolve the situation here as quickly as possible, taking up the two-handed axe again and tearing through every obstacle on his way; not allowing himself to be shaken by the information that challenged the very fundamentals of his world and beliefs.

Posing as the hero he knew he was not, he took on every Lightwarden and sin eater, fighting every fight as if it were his last, not knowing how true that was. For every fight changed him, each more than the last. By the time he challenged the last Lightwarden, his dark side was already fighting a losing battle.

By the time he was ready to extend his hand in friendship, he had already lost the right to do so. Although he did come alone, in the end, it was for naught, as the events unraveled as it was meant to be. No reconciliation for them. Not this time.

Only remembrance.



At the world’s end, two extended hands were the ones that held him together. One of his world - Rheya’a, and the overwhelming Void within him. One of this world - Ardbert, and the Light of hope within him. As he frayed at the edges with the last hit he inflicted upon Hades, when the Warden’s Light clashed against primordial Darkness, he felt the two holding onto him. Only thanks to them did he survive; and yet, the world only hailed him as a hero. For one could not be seen, and the other did not want to be seen.

But he was no hero. He felt it in his bones - he was just a weapon; and the wanderlust, the wish to run has started growing again. But he will not give into it… Not yet. As he was not Azem anymore and he had a promise to fulfil that kept him chained to this duty.

Yet, the fight is far from over. The light is still polluting his veins, despite Rheya’a’s and Ardbert's help, and he still has to keep up with his duties. Serve, save, slave, slay. The cycle continues, and he is growing tired of it.



Chasing after stories of the deceased and slandered Warriors of Light of that world, he grew to learn of deceit and trickery that caused a flood of Light to almost swallow this world, and that took Minfilia’s mind - leaving her empty husk to serve as Hydaelyn’s messenger.

Seeing that this world, too, has had its share of trouble as the Source - not only the neverending conflict between Light and Dark - has made him feel more at ease. Yet, the longer his stay there dragged on, the more antsy he became. When Elidibus came and wreaked havoc, awakening the memories of the Final Days in all people of the First, he welcomed the chance to let his inner beast run wild again. However, during his final trial in the First, the familiar figure that saved him and his comrades-in-arms made him snap out of it. With regained clarity, he put Elidibus down and did all that was in his power to hurry along Crystal Exarch’s creation of the way back for Rheya’a and the Scions.



Once that was done, Sterrh was ready to return with them; triumphant, yet again. Passing through the portal and carrying their crystals, he was hoping to leave some of the weight behind.

But the memories stay.

They always do.

And so, he made the journey to the Source. A world saved yet again by his hands; and he - yet again - questioned his conviction. The only reason he is still on that damned pedestal is to fulfill the promise he made several lives ago, he feels. So he sends balance to hell.

In front of the Scholar's Mark, he remembers the promise he made to others. In front of the Wanderer's Mark, he makes a promise to himself. He will uncover, he will remember; but after that is done, he will live for himself, and himself only.