15th Day, Sixth Umbral Moon. The solstice approaches and with it, endless snow flurries dazzle the sky. Cities across Eorzea don festive adornments, halls decked with bows of holly, tinsel lining lamp posts. ‘Tis the season of Starlight!

Hi all! It’s Jiyoo again! I hope you are ready for some festive fun! I have gained a reputation around the office for being a little spooky, and maybe even zany, so I have heard. I don’t see why, though!

There are hidden secrets all around the world, scholars uncover new creatures all the time. How could some of the rumors we have all heard of not be true? Goobfoot? The Sanstete Chocobeer? Sure, these cryptic creatures have not been caught and studied, but even so, there is evidence that they exist in some form or another, just like our target today.

Year after year, children all over Hydaelyn wake up around this time and experience joy at the sight of wrapped gifts piled up just for them. The common knowledge for those at that age is that a magical entity delivers them all in a single night. Of course, as we age, the mystery fades and we learn that the work is actually done by parents and loved ones wanting to encourage the wonder of youth to last as long as it can in this bleak plane.

And yet…. something is off with this annual occurrence. I have asked around with some parents I know and questioned them on the events of the evening prior to the big day. Of course, all the interviewees had different responses. Still, certain themes kept coming up that became hard to ignore as anything coincidental.

For the readers among you with young ones, this might sound familiar. The little ones head off to bed. you and your significant other exchange knowing smiles. You grab a quick refreshment, a nog or perhaps a wine. As you wait until you are sure they are sleeping, you have a little more.

Things become hazy. It is not easy to remember any of the details, but you awaken in bed to the sounds of excitement coming from where you are certain you laid out gifts. Another happy Starlight for all.

It is a beautiful little scene in its own right, though it is not so unique, is it? In fact, of the 10 couples I spoke with, not one of them had different elements from what I walk through above. Is that not an oddity worth mentioning? What is worse, though, is that this haze does not seem warranted. No one admitted to having a problem with excessive consumption, yet all reached this same state of forgetfulness, as though falling under an aetherial fog. Conveniently, in each, the certainty of laying out presents is never able to be verified. There is simply a feeling of knowing it happened.

In the tales that grace the ears of the young this time of year, a jolly old man affectionately referred to as Manderclaus uses his magic to philanthropically provide for all children of the world. Considering the speed required to do so, it would be impossible without magic, one would assume. So I ask you this, then. Are the magics that are known to affect the mind, memories, feelings, would this Manderville be somehow precluded from using them?

This investigatory expedition is set on finding one of the most elusive mythical beings in all of Hydaelyn. This is no mindless beast fearful of outsiders, no vengeful spirit rising to revel in bloodshed of the living. Manderclaus, by all accounts in fables, is a sentient and purposeful being, one who has evaded the eyes of the public for generations. And that is why I have come to the north to uncover any trace of him.

My journey begins in a small mountain town. Despite the grim blizzard raging around us, the townspeople seem calm, even warm in their demeanor. I do not know if I could maintain such high spirits in such a dreary place for long, but I can certainly maintain one while here. The people tell me of the surrounding area, strange lights, sounds. It seems there is a lot going on in the abandoned tundras.

They tell me of what was thought to be a settlement once, way out across the ice fields. Thinking I might find a lead here, I thank them and move out towards it. The hike is difficult, but before long I found what they had mentioned. Indeed, there was once something here, though what remains is hardly what I had hoped for.

Old wooden homes and stables, perhaps a factory, judging by the carpentry tools. It was clear that this place had seen better days and that time had not been kind to it since. Among the remnants, red satin now tarnished and ruined, but perhaps once it shone a brilliant crimson. I pocket this sample and return to the village.

They ask what I had found out there, perhaps concerned for a neglected sister people out there alone. I dissuade those fears by informing them whoever did live there had abandoned the site long ago. Eventually, one asks me to watch the storm, maybe thinking that the activity would cheer me up. Did I really look so down? Some time passes but then we spot something in the skies making its way through the thick blankets of snowflakes whipping around. A light, bright red, pierces a path for… something.

I set out after it, fighting through snowbanks, each step heavier than the last. After what seemed like an eternity of trudging, I come to a small ridge to find… nothing. The light is gone, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, though with conditions like this, I am not surprised. Nor am I discouraged. My trusty compass gave me a general idea of its direction. I must now head south.

16th Day, Sixth Umbral Moon. The travel is mostly uneventful. I pass many traders and merchants, adventurers in search of glory, townsfolk looking for greener pastures. Some are friendly, others not so much. Occasionally, one confirms what I had seen in the north, a flying object guided by a crimson beam. I know I am heading in the right direction.

When I put on my cold weather gear and headed for the frosty beyond, I did not expect I would eventually find myself in the arid mesas and dunes of Thanalan. Still, when investigating an anomaly, one must follow the signs, not what may seem rational. The people I had spoken to as I continued had increasingly shared their common experience with this bizarre contraption streaking across the night sky. Occasionally, they would even recall distant sounds of bells when it passed.

As if to reward my dedication to the madness, as I entered the rocky passages of southern Thanalan, I saw the object fly overheard. Sprinting with all the energy I could muster and then some, I pursued it. It was going quickly, but as long as I could get a better idea of where it was headed I was sure I could find where it would eventually land. My best lead so far must come down somewhere near here.

Dishearteningly, though, my efforts did not pay off. I found myself in a cave system. I was able to pass through, but when I came out on the other side, my target was no longer in view. Instead, I found I was in the Forgotten Springs, a quaint hamlet finding refuge from the harsh sands wedged between a mountain and an oasis.

The people here tell me the same stories that I had been told throughout my travels, only they insist the flights are far more frequent here than anywhere else. It seems I am closer than I could have hoped. They tell me that as we enter the Sixth Umbral month, sightings become increasingly common. The exact location where the object comes from and goes to is hard to pin down - no one knows for certain - but from what I had been told, it seems likely to be somewhere across the dunes to the southwest. It is late, though, and so I decide to spend the night here and set out again in the morning.

17th Day, Sixth Umbral Moon. These sand fields are endless. Even though we are in the most frigid time of the year, the desert does not abide by the preconceptions of those in more temperate climates and the sun bears down with ferocity unrivaled. When the first breeze came through, I was foolishly thankful at first, until blistering grains peppered my face. This is a cruel place.

I left the Forgotten Springs with provisions and advice. This was a dangerous trek and to carelessly indulge in water too frequently would be a mistake. I take sips here and there, sparing what I have for when I might need it should I become lost, or worse, disoriented in a sandstorm. I am fortunate one did not whip up while I was out here. The view to where I was headed was clear.

As I continued my trek, I came across a rocky ridge-line. Thinking it might be a good place to get a better view, I began climbing. As I made my way towards the top, I was certain I heard noises. No, not noises. It was music, for sure. Perhaps I was losing my mind, I thought. It was not the first time such ideas would creep into my consciousness and likely it would not be the last, but as I made my way over the ridge those ideas were stripped away by the truth. In front of me was not some mysterious toy factory. No, it was the Golden Saucer.

The rumored jewel of the desert, the Golden Saucer, was obviously out here somewhere. The opulent gambling den is not exactly a secret. Still, it struck me a strange that such a flying device could originate from here. There are other things to consider as well. The owner of the Golden Saucer is said to be one Gilbert Manderville.

Before this investigation, I always thought it was funny that he shared a naming similarity with our elusive Manderclaus, though now that I am here and have seen and heard all I have, could it be more than coincidence?

Perhaps magic is better as something unknown, mysterious. Pulling the curtain away to reveal the man at the machine might feel satisfying in the moment, but do we really need to know it all? Can we not just enjoy a strange and wonderful event?

That was what I thought as I climbed back down, ready to head home. Only, I am sure that is not how I wanted to act. It was as if something was pulling me away, convincing me not to probe further.

Funny, isn’t it? And I was sure I heard bells as I walked back toward civilization.