The Wayward Lark
Nyssara Rosdeaux

23rd Sun, 3rd Astral Moon, 1558 of the Sixth Astral Era (14 Before Calamity): Nyssara Rosdeaux is said to be born “mid-aria” during the rare Sapphire Eclipse. She claims all four midwives fainted, and passing Temple Knights held their breath as a child with “the lungs of an opera house” entered the world. There are no birth records for a 'Nyssara Rosdeaux' in any Coerthan archive - there is, however, record of another girl born this year on the nameday Nyssara claims.

1565: At age 7, Nyssara says she was handpicked by a wandering Sharlayan playwright to star in The Maiden and the Midwinter Wyrm, a banned operatic tragedy. She recalls performing the final act suspended upside-down in flawless Ancient Mhachi (a language she does not speak), earning fame in one Ishgardian salon. She begins her formal trainings in the performing arts, focusing on the harp, singing, and traditional Ishgardian ballet.

1570: At 12, Nyssara claims to have run away briefly with a Radz-at-Han circus, dazzling the ringmaster with fire poi, tumblers, and a wyvern hatchling. She says they were ambushed by pirates, whom she outwitted with a fake identity, cards, and “pure charisma.” She discovers a small magic shop near her family home in upper Foundation, and begins to train in sleight-of-hand there in her free time.

1572 (The Calamity): At 14, she tells of single-handedly repelling Bahamut from Ishgard using a prototype harp, refrains of “The Ballad of Holy Thordan,” and a modified aether crystal. She says the Dusk Vigil bells tolled in celebration of her “aural arcana,” calming the elder primal’s rage. Her family home is destroyed in the wake of the Calamity. Her parents take out a loan from a cadet branch of House Dzemael to afford the rebuild.

Year 1: At 15, Nyssara claims she became the youngest Maestra of the Harmonic Society of Coerthas, a secretive guild “that never existed publicly.” She says she was knighted with a tuning fork by an unnamed former Archbishop after composing a ballad so powerful it moved an entire banquet of Ishgardian nobles to tears — and in one case, divorce. She left under mysterious circumstances involving a sabotaged metronome and a snowstorm duel. Her parents die in a draconic attack near Falcon’s Nest, their debt unpaid. Nyssara is taken in as a “ward” of House Dzemael — expected to work off what they owe.

Year 2: Nyssara claims accidental canonization in a Brumeborn village after “curing a baron’s cursed throat” with a whispered lullaby and a flash of leg. Mistaken for a demigoddess of echo and illusion, the villagers built her a shrine she “did not approve.” When asked, she rolls her eyes and mutters, “You save one noble’s voice and suddenly you’re a myth.” The shrine allegedly burned down due to too many devotional candles—warnings she insists she gave. Nyssara remains a prisoner of House Dzemael, confined to Ishgard. She trains and performs, but all her earnings feed the crushing debt left by her parents — now swollen further by her own costs.

Year 3: Nyssara tells of saving Ishgard from a rampaging Nidhogg by luring him into the city with illusions, glitter bombs, and a seductive flute solo. She claims to have danced atop rooftops, dodging claws and breath, until the wyrm was so entertained he agreed to a truce—or simply left due to “headache-inducing noise.” At House Dzemael’s insistence, Nyssara begins performing in the courts of the High Houses, her presence carefully placed. She moves among Ishgard’s elite — not by choice, but as an investment expected to yield profit.

Year 4: Nyssara spent this year as the masked bardic vigilante La Belle Mirage in Thanalan, robbing corrupt caravans, seducing Syndicate accountants, and leaving glitter haiku. The tale ends with a high-speed chocobo chase through Sagolii Desert where she “became the sandstorm” to evade capture. Her wanted poster, if it ever existed, listed crimes as “Theft, Impropriety, Excessive Alliteration.” Nyssara’s repertoire expands, but the harp becomes something she plays only in private — a quiet tether to herself, kept safe behind closed doors.

Year 5: She debuted on Ishgard’s upper courts as La Sylphide Noire, a masked performer whose routines “summoned the stars.” Rumors say she hypnotized a visiting Garlean dignitary into forgetting the Empire’s claim to Coerthas. A noble supposedly offered title, estate, and his daughter’s hand for exclusive performances. She declined, vanishing in a plume of violet smoke mid-sentence. Nyssara learns the debt has grown again — inflated by the cost of living under House Dzemael’s name and mounting interest. She starts taking discreet jobs around the city, the kind that don’t ask questions, doing whatever she can to stay one step ahead of a burden meant to keep her trapped.

Year 6: Nyssara claims she was recruited into a secret society of arcane illusionists called The Alabaster Veil — an elite troupe said to “manipulate truth like harpstrings.” She says she performed a routine so convincing it sparked a duel between two Ishgardian heirs, each convinced they were her true patron. She emerged with her reputation — and funding — mysteriously doubled. Nyssara is told that House Dzemael intends to marry her into the family — unless she can pay off her growing debt. But the numbers rise faster than she can chase them, and the truth settles in: they never meant to let her go. Freedom was never the plan. So she stops playing their game. And starts planning her escape.

Year 7: Nyssara says she studied under a wandering Viera chronomancer known only as “Tock,” who taught her to “dance through moments.” She recalls a duel where Tock stopped time to tie her opponent’s shoes mid-swing. There’s no record of this Viera or time manipulation. She swears by the story and refuses questions. While speaking with an acquaintance, Nyssara learns House Dzemael has chosen a match for her: Ser Aurenaut Dzemael, a disgraced knight from a cadet branch, bound by circumstance much like her. She offers no protest—only a quiet nod. It isn't consent, not truly. Just another part she’s expected to play.

Year 8: She claims to have toured Ilsabard’s minor city-states, performing before warlords, revolutionaries, and rogue mages. In her most famous tale, she “talked down a volcano spirit” after a botched Blue Mage act, then had tea with it in the caldera. It’s unclear how she got there, survived, or learned the regional languages. Nyssara begins laying the groundwork for her escape — planning her route, a new identity, and how she’ll earn coin on the run. The life she wants is nearly in reach. All she needs now is an opening.

Year 9: Nyssara announces her triumphant “retirement” from the Ishgardian stage with a final act so elaborate even the stagehands weren’t sure it happened. She “enchanted” an entire ballroom to believe they were at sea, staging a naval battle with illusionary cannons and krakens aboard a floating masquerade at Dzemael Manor. The performance ended with her sailing into the clouds atop a self-folding chaise lounge, to the applause of twelve thousand guests. Critics allegedly called it “a masterpiece of dream logic.” The opening comes during a stage production — a moment of chaos, movement, and lowered guard. Nyssara slips away under cover of costume and shadow, vanishing from House Dzemael and Ishgard alike. By the time anyone thinks to look, she’s already vanished into the night. She reemerges in Eorzea under a new name: Nyssara Rosdeaux — a ghost of the girl they tried to keep, and the architect of her own reinvention.

Dubbed “The Wayward Lark” by a drunken bard she effortlessly outshone, Nyssara drifts through candlelit stages and fleeting applause — a whirlwind of stolen breaths and silken lies. From Shroud huts to Radz-at-Han’s sapphire domes, she performs wherever recognition is unlikely: taverns, courts, alleyways, barges, bandit hideouts, and even a Thavnairian wedding that turned out to be a sting operation. The sting was real — but Nyssara had no part in it; she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

When the stage can no longer hold her restless spirit, she turns to companionship — lucrative, occasionally thrilling, but never permanent. Her growing repertoire includes songs in tongues she barely speaks, dances drawn from half-remembered myths, and ever-new ways to keep others at arm’s length. Beneath the glitter and perfume, however, lies a quiet ache — a yearning for something stable, something lasting…

Midway through the year, she makes for La Noscea, and within hours of arriving in Limsa Lominsa, is swept into a whirlwind romance with Syenna Shalda, a Viera who sees through her carefully crafted facade without hesitation. Syenna’s gentle insistence on honesty and openness begins to crack Nyssara’s defenses. Piece by piece, she unravels the truths she’s long buried, even sharing her birth name for the first time since fleeing Ishgard. Choosing to stay in Limsa Lominsa for the foreseeable future, Nyssara finds unexpected safety and warmth in this new bond.

Yet beneath the fragile comfort, shadows linger. She still glances over her shoulder, haunted by the relentless certainty that House Dzemael will one day come to claim what they believe is theirs — that her hard-won freedom may prove only temporary...