The Sun was high in the sky, blazing over Ul'dah. Two people stood face to face in The Pugilist's Guild, Student and Teacher. One had dark purple hair and shimmering green eyes, she was ready to take on the world. The other had dark skin and blonde hair, a mustache to compliment his blue eyes. He smiled, as if he'd taken on the world.
Violet charged, her fist raised. Hamon lifted his hand, and in a single swift movement, he stopped Violet, flipping her over onto her back.
"Too predictable. If you're going to become a fighter with the fist, you need to move faster, don't let the enemy know where you're going to hit. Stand up, get over there, and try again!"
Violet stood, nodding. As she turned, Hamon slammed an open palm into Violet's back, sending her forward.
"Never turn your back to the enemy!"
Violet fell to her knees, panting heavily. She stood again, eyes clenched shut.
Hamon hadn't even broken a sweat. He looked on at Violet, his arms crossed.
The sun had already set, and Violet looked outside longingly, noticing all her other friends out there.
"Focus, Violet." Violet's attention snapped back to Hamon, who looked just about as tired as she.
"We're not leaving until you land a single blow on me, hear?" He nodded. "Even if it takes all night."
Violet's eyes widened. "But sir..!"
Hamon's eyes gleamed, and she quieted. She nodded in response, before charging.
Hamon stopped her, and as he attempted to flip her again, Violet reversed their positions, ducking to the other side of Hamon and flipping him over. He landed on his feet, and he shoved an open palm to strike at Violet's chest. Violet blocked this, still holding to Hamon's hand. Together, they danced in a flurry of attempted strikes.
Hamon shoved away from Violet, pressing his foot to hers and kicking off. As she released him, they both bounded back, their fists raised to attack. They charged at the other, and their fists slammed against each others, sending a gust of wind throughout the room. In unison, they spun away from each other, Violet to the left, Hamon to the right. Violet charged, her fist raised.
"This again? Come now, Violet!" He lifted his hand to stop her, and just as she neared, she fell to the ground, sliding past Hamon as she ducked under his hand. Violet turned around, just in time to see Hamon's knee slam into her face, sending her back and breaking her nose with a loud crack.
She staggered back from the blow, before straightening herself. Her rage exploded. She charged towards Hamon with her anger and fury burning brighter than the sun. Hamon jumped back, eyes widened as Violet swung wildly, her fists aiming right towards the pressure points on his limbs. He attempted to grab at Violet's fist, but instead he was met with nothing but air as she had feinted, sending a blow for his right and instead slamming into his left. As he fell back, Violet would spin around, slamming her foot into Hamon's side, sending him staggering back. He would lift his hands in surrender.
"Alright, Alright, Violet! That's two hits, anymore and I'll pass out!"
Violet would snap out of her rage, staggering in place as she looked at Hamon. "W-What..."
Hamon shook his head. "You need to control your rage, Violet. You're too easily angered, too distracted."
"But...Rage means Power."
"Only if you want to die a quick death." Hamon spoke bluntly. "Do you want to die early, Silverlake?"
Violet would look down at the ground, looking so innocent and young, that Hamon felt bad for reprimanding her, but he felt she needed to be taught a lesson. "I know you're young, Violet." She was, after all, only 10 years of age, at least 5 years behind all his other students, and yet she insisted on the training. "But that gives you more time to realize early, the dangers of being foolish with your power." He sighed. "You see my older students, yes?"
"They are young themselves, but they never learned the things you have learned. You're only what, 10?"
She nodded once more, refusing to speak or look at her Master.
"You're only 10, and you're already studying advanced mathematics and literature, these 15, 18 year olds are just now getting to intermediate knowledge. You know better, and you shouldn't use your age as an excuse."
"...Neither should you, Master Hamon."
Hamon paused. "...You're right, Violet. I shouldn't have used my old age as an excuse not to train you." He shook his head. "But the point is, you're young, but you're knowledgeable. You have learned things nobody's learned before."
"But my current knowledge has nothing to do with fighting! I want to fight, Master Hamon! I want to go explore Inferia, I want to visit places nobody's been before, I want to be an Adventurer!"
Hamon smiled. "And you will, Violet. But for now..." He crossed his arms. "Our next lesson! Controlling your rage! Are you ready, Silverlake?"
Violet nodded, vigorously eager to begin training again.
And so Violet began her training anew, working with Hamon to control the rage she had sealed within herself, ever since the day of her parents death, and the beginning of her adventure.
"Breathe, Violet!" he would shout to her, as she would hold poses, or as she would throw punches or wind up a kick. She was ever training, even after the session with Hamon. It's said that one could walk upon the Open Garden behind Violet's shack, and find her punching away at the air, a tiny little girl, throwing punches with fists the size of tennis balls, winding up kicks with bare feet, no matter how wet the ground was, or how hot it was on a day, she seemed to never wear shoes, instead preferring to feel the grass in her toes, the air at her soles, her enemy at the mercy of her bare skin. And yet, her feet always stayed clean, never once cracking at the soles, never once getting infected or with sores.
It was one such day now, two years had passed. Violet was only 12 years old, and already, she had gained her first set of Hora, using the knuckle type weapons to beat away at straw dummies, hitting at blood packs which exploded everytime she hit a raw nerve, or whenever she landed a critical hit in a vital area. She had surpassed the lower and middle class to the point where she was the youngest student, training with the adults and teenagers. Sometimes, Hamon would call in some of his best students, Adult or otherwise, and they would pit themselves against Violet.
Almost always, Violet would lose, allowing her rage to take hold of her when an enemy tossed a verbal argument, or insulted her. Some of them even went so far as to insult her dead parents, and that truly pissed the girl off, who would black out to the point where she wouldn't remember destroying half the training area in her violent rage. One time, she broke a students arm, and Hamon had to suspend her for a week, even taking away her Hora.
It was in that week, that Violet would learn to control herself. During the week, Violet had stripped into nothing but her smallclothes, in which she would then journey to The Hot Springs near Final Prayer, completely bare against the elements of the three day walk. Once she reached it, she would rest underneath a waterfall, crossing her arms, sitting upon the rock with which the water would fall. She would cross her arms over her chest, sitting with her legs crossed as the water washed over her. She closed her eyes, and breathed in and out slowly, thinking nothing but negative thoughts, allowing her negative energy to spill across the stones with the water. When she was satisfied she had been cleansed of enough negativity, this took at least another three days, her week of suspension over. She had been gone, and everybody had panicked, and yet, something told them she would return, and so they simply waited.
It had been a whole month before Violet would return, having calmed herself to the point where the thought of her parents death was nothing more than a distant memory, in which she could not retreat from any longer. Instead, she embraced her past, accepted her flaws, brushed away the insults thrown at her in the days past. When she returned to Ul'dah, Hamon had been one of the first to greet her back at the gates.
"Violet you...!" The Holyfist was about to say something, when he looked down upon her dripping form, the water of The Holy Falls undrying even in the blazing sun. She would look back up at him, her expression hardened, and yet, she would smile, her bright green eyes gleaming. Something about the look in her eyes, the bags on her face from lack of sleep, the way she stood, and how she had even quit clenching and unclenching her fists, no longer expecting a fight, but still prepared just in case.
He smiled at her, his own eyes gleaming. "You are back. I'm glad you are safe." He nodded to her, his smile genuine and true.
After this, Violet's stomach let out a wrenching growl, which even made Hamon flinch.
"Good Great Twelve, what have you eaten, lass?"
Violet stuffed her hands in her pockets. "...Nothin'."
Hamon's eyes widened. "A whole month without food!"
Violet nodded. "Y-Yeah."
"By The Twelve! Get something inside this lass now! Perhaps some bread and maybe an apple!"
And so people rushed to see Violet's hunger sated, starting her slowly with bread and apples, sometimes even cheese.
Ten Years later, Violet, at the age of 22, graduated from The Holyfist Guild of Pugilsm. She stepped out from the training hall, and breathed in fresh air. She stood to be six feet tall now, wearing a blood red T-shirt, tucked into her black sweats. Her feet were still bare as she walked the streets of Ul'dah, her hands stuffed into her pockets.
Her adventure was just beginning. And she knew exactly where she wanted to go next.
For in her back pocket, there was a flyer. On the flyer was the image of a ship, sailing the seas. It said; 'Sailor's wanted!' and Violet planned to sail The Seas as much as she could, deckhand or captain.
For the ocean called to her.
Except it wasn't the ocean.
Deep in the heart of The Deep Blue Sea, where the water was so deep not even The Water Crystal could light the way, a coiled up being stirred. It was called to Violet's strong heart, and so it called back. It would begin to uncoil, stretching as long as a tower, wriggling around as it struggled to awaken.
On the Horizon, a Storm was brewing from The Northern Continents, as a man known as The Bringer of Storms controlled the weather, bringing a flood of rain down upon the people, conquering cities and destroying the weaker armies.
Something was coming, and it was coming fast.