Not to spoil your appetite, but Ul'dah is hardly so bountiful as this meal would have you believe. While we gorge ourselves, children starve in the streets.
Nor can Her Grace do aught to help them. She is thwarted at every turn by those on the Syndicate who derive their wealth from the workers' poverty.
Beneath her mask of stately serenity, she is aghast at the plight of her subjects.
But there will be no hope for the masses until the crown is restored to power.
I am truly grateful for all you have done for Ul'dah. But there is so much more to do.
That light—what is it?
So bright... Almost like... By the Twelve!
Tell me true—have you been troubled by strange dreams of late? Visions—of the Crystal?
Mayhap you put them down to an excess of aether?
Yes. You are like they were...
Allow me to explain. Before you came to Eorzea, there were others like you who fought the primals.
Though they were not of this land, when the Garlean Empire threatened the realm, they helped bring together the three Grand Companies.
And they stood with us at Carteneau, that fateful day five years ago...
...The day we lost them.
None who survived have forgotten the heroes' sacrifice, nor would any man deny they fought alongside us...
But the names of these heroes come not to our lips. The once-familiar pages of their story are now blank to us.
And in our mind's eye, their faces are naught but silhouettes amid a blinding glare...
It is for this reason that we have come to call them the Warriors of Light.
When I look at you, I cannot help but think of them, and of what you might achieve.
You must protect that crystal at all costs.
It is a gift from Hydaelyn, mother of all—and one She gave to you for a reason.
Yours is no ordinary tale. If I am right, the fate of the realm may yet hang upon your deeds.
Only heroes and martyrs are fit to bear such a burden. Let us pray you are the former.