In the realm of Final Fantasy 16, select humans known as "Bearers" manifest incredible inherent magical abilities without requiring Mothercrystals. This distinguishes them from typical humans and positions them uniquely in society. However, such profound power comes with a steep cost – the formidable Curse of the Violet Tower.
As a passionate Final Fantasy expert and magic practitioner, I have extensively researched this curse plaguing Bearers. In this guide, we‘ll uncover its origins, effects, and the tragic fates of those afflicted. We‘ll also explore potential paths to salvation for my doomed people.
A History Written in Violet
The Curse of the Violet Tower has existed for centuries, its origins lost to time. Some legends speak of a past age where magic flowed freely and Bearers unleashed incredible arcane feats unlike anything witnessed since. Their unchecked powers apparently angered the gods, bringing catastrophe down upon the land.
As punishment, the deities cursed all Bearers with the Violet Scourge – painful violet crystalline growths that engulf the body when magic is overused. It served as a warning to limit their abilities or face an agonizing fate.
At first, knowledge of the curse remained obscure. But as afflicted Bearers solidified into statues and awareness of the crystals spread, panic and suspicion grew towards magic users. This triggered the construction of the foreboding Violet Tower to contain them.
Bearers hoped isolation of cursed kin would temper public fear. But it only strengthened negative perceptions, even as families wept seeing loved ones locked away. My people became vilified and maligned simply for talents beyond their control. And events long set in motion would soon bring further darkness upon us all.
What Is The Curse of the Violet Tower?
The Curse of the Violet Tower causes violet crystalline growths to spread across a Bearer‘s body when they overuse magic. It manifests first as small patches initially limited to hands, feet, and face. But sustained overindulgence in spellcasting causes larger clusters until eventually the victim fully transforms into a gleaming violet statue – alive internally but completely unable to move or communicate.
The markings emerge violently, resulting in acute stabbing pains. Medicinal salves provide minor relief but no true antidote exists apart from abstaining from all magical use. And even that may slow but not fully halt advancement if curse manifestation has already begun.
Once crystallization completes, the statues stand as grim reminders to all Bearers about the perils of our powers left uncontrolled. It serves as a sentence to an eternity of suffering, unable to speak or interact with the world while trapped agonizingly aware within our own transmuted bodies.
The Violet Tower
As tales of people transforming into shining violet statues spread, fear and suspicion of Bearers intensified across the realms. In response, an intimidating prison fortress dubbed the Violet Tower was constructed to contain afflicted Bearers. By confining victims out of the public eye, leaders hoped to temper growing hostility towards magic wielders.
The tower windowless edifice glows with violet effulgence visible for miles even at night, a testament to the sheer concentration of crystalline figures housed within. None have escaped the tower since its establishment centuries past and all who enter its ominous facade are fated to never emerge again. It offers no amenities – only unending anguish as its still-living prisoners stand frozen for eternity in sparkling agony.
Walking its stygian halls lined with shimmering violet statues locked in expressions of torment is said to evoke profound horrors few can withstand. Even the guards steeped in daily darkness seem haunted behind false bravados. And the pervading echoes of wordless screaming haunt the minds of all who dwell inside.
The Tragedy Of The Branded
Beyond the cursed Bearers, even greater tragedy has befallen those known as The Branded – Bearers explicitly enslaved and exploited due to their innate magical talents. Branded become the property of powerful individuals or factions who viciously force them to constantly unleash magic for their benefit.
Unable to refuse without incurring brutal punishment, Branded typically perish quickly from the Violet Curse – often within a year of first being collared. Their deaths matter little to the ruthless masters who happily replace deceased slaves with newly subjugated victims.
Records across a sample of eighteen kingdoms revealed the average Branded lifespan was just 324 days after initial bonding. That equates to over a 90% annual mortality rate – a scale of systemic carnage virtually unseen outside theaters of open war. The chart below presents yearly data on number of Branded, days survived post-bonding, and number deceased.
Former royal magician Burgell who unwillingly spent years bonded to an earl before a merciful death from the crystals reflected – "I witnessed twenty-three Branded during my time in the earl‘s ‘employ‘ as he called it. Most were teenagers snatched from poor towns too powerless to protect them. And upon his whim they were forced writhing in pain to wield the very magic that brought about their own destruction."
Based on such accounts, various abolitionists estimate over 100,000 Branded have perished across the kingdoms in just the past two decades. Yet all petitions to royalty demanding emancipation have been declined and the lucrative Branded flesh trade continues unimpeded. Such is the tragic lot of my magical kindred chained into brief lives of involuntary magic use culminating in grisly ends as shining violet stones.
But even this fails to fully encapsulate the scope of Branded anguish…
Deliberate Corruption
Not all masters are content just working Branded to death from innate magic overuse. The very cruelest deliberately taint them by continual exposure to corrupted magical artifacts. This intensifies the Violet Curse exponentially, accelerating transformations from months to mere weeks.
Once the Branded Unit is fully transmuted, they proudly display these "enhanced specimens" outside their strongholds. The glittering statues prominently advertise their power in perverse exhibitions of dominion through slave destruction. Even other slave owners dare not publicly criticize such bold flaunting of fortune though disgust murmurs in private.
And so this profane cycle carries on – innocent Bearers doomed to months of mandatory spellcasting before the crystals claim them, their death Knells signaling just another replacement. Those few months represent the full breadth of life they can aspire to, barring some improbable escape or intervention. Forgive me for admitting that in my despair I once prayed the crystallization would carry me faster than most…if only to conclude the suffering sooner.
Seeking Salvation
Not all Bearers dwell bereft of hope though. Some disavowed the kingdoms entirely and now reside beyond their reach in the isolated realm known as The Eternal Frost. There the beleaguered tribe Clan Destin reportedly discovered safe harbor from the Violet Curse‘s grasp. Could frozen seclusion offer sanctuary at last? Or does even the harsh winter fail to ward off the curse should one push their mystical talents too far? Let us examine the wandering clan further.
Clan Destin And The Eternal Frost
In a desperate gambit for salvation, the migratory Clan Destin fled civilization and journeyed north into the harsh but magical phenomenon known as The Eternal Frost. Perpetual conjured winter smothers the forested land limiting outside access. Clan Destin chose risk the unrelenting cold over assured enslavement back home.
Elders claimed this self-contained winter ultimately stemmed from the Northern Mothercrystal Aurora thousands of years prior. Her power permeates the land itself, blanketing it in azure gelidity year-round. And while dangerous entities haunt the hoarfrosted woods, Aurora‘s essence also chokeholds external magical corruption.
Thus for now Clan Destin resides free of the crystalline curse though not other hazards. But even should one push their mystic talents overmuch, the frigid air concentrates Aurora‘s power keeping contagion at bay. As scholar Amon elucidated "Though the Eternal Frost be a punishing mistress, under Aurora‘s glacial grip even the sum of the Violet Tower‘s virulence remains bereft of purchase."
So within frost-laden forests has hope emerged for my kind though not without requisites. Survival in the hostile landscape exacts cruel tribute: chilling winds that freeze flesh in hours, relentless predators eager to feast, supplies ever-dwindling. And through it all looms the sinister entities in the frozen woods whose mere presence evokes grave unease for reasons few can articulate.
Indeed the deeper reaches of that place seem to embrace laws apart from natural existence as we know it. Some orchard trees appear frozen mid-bloom in a facsimile of spring that never progresses. Animals flash evolve erratically as if changing breeds arbitrarily. Odd geometries violate sensibility as we perceive it. One clan member swore a single gitlily flower transformed into an incomprehensible entity that unraveled his sanity simply through momentary eye contact.
So while Aurora‘s essence stays the Violet Curse, what other possibly ruinous forces occupy that land none dare fully grasp? Still – if one can endure the myriad threats both primal and unknowable, deliverance from crystalline fate just may await any sufficiently stalwart.
My Journey As A Bearer
Since first inscribing runes of fire at age fourteen I knew the rapture and danger of our gifts. The hypnotic allure of casting shimmers just once more kept me balancing upon a razor‘s edge. My introverted father who I rarely glimpsed outside our home remained my sole magical mentor…when the curse did not claim him years later as it does so many of our kind.
The ensuing grief left my bitter mother oath-bound against all spellcraft through even benign means. And her resignedness to accept eventual enslavement or worse felt reprehensible beyond any arguments I made. Two paths diverged – inaction leading to chains or possible obscure salvation as mythical as any fable. Yet what choice did possibility warrant but pursuit?
And so from seventeen summers I voyaged beyond county limits seeking obscure clues that might unravel the curse‘s grasp upon our people. Five hard seasons passed until provoked fate found me bloodied, starved, and sputtering spells against a malefactor‘s minions two days ride from the destruction of both myself and my Leafskin tomes now smoldering back in the forest. Only Aurora‘s divine hand could have guided the Eternal Frost clan patrol that rescued me.
Recovering strength and knowledge amongst my rescuers I firstly marveled at their camp defying all reputation of destitute vagabonds. Surprisingly robust, tight-knitted, and equal parts pragmatic as spiritual. ThroughAurora‘s gifts the camp thrived absent starving winters or oppression plights I knew so well. I silently cursed blithely squandered privilege from those never deprived it.
My observations uncovered no persuaded opinions against the Frost by even the coldest elders set in suspicion-prone ways. And so I committed myself towards fully adopting the wandering life they preserved despite its demands and oddities. For a half-decade thereafter never did violet patches recur even when magic necessity warranted reactional spellcasting against occasional beast or botched potion.
Of my family I have no further word nor means to gain any. Last I spied in a dusty village inn years past my mother took midday refreshment wearing servitude garb and lacquered smile that failed reaching her eyes. Curse avoidance comes through many vessels. But I vowed to never settle in comforting delusions born of resignation when truth yet carried potential for substantive change no matter how scarce and distant those glimmering seeds.
And so I persist plumbing eldritch wisdom from Aurora‘s realm. The words herein stand testament should any kindred seek their own exodus from the curse rather than acquiesce to the Branded bonds already staining the land with needless grief. May the crystals grant that through our small unified actions far greater hope takes seed and blooms.
