#did Zenos regret killing them as he stared up at them and watch the light leave their eyes?

[impossible-rat-babies]

something something about Zenos killing eyrie but also the wish for their survival being what drags their soul back. you can create a wound that endlessly bleeds, but do you have the strength to mend it, yeah? A wish that knits and knots a length of twine to drag your dearest friend and worst enemy’s soul back from the brink

[wanderingviera]

[ 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦 ] : sender has killed someone who threatened the receiver. (Zenos~)

Kenzie had to admit, the plan as proposed had been crazy. She had been offered up as bait, prey ensnared in a ‘trap’ to try and lure Zenos from the stronghold he held within Doma Castle. The afternoon prior, the unhinged bastard had allowed her and the Scions to walk free with the promise to meet another day. But Kenzie did not wish to wait, if there was an opportunity to hit the Garlean forces hard and unexpectedly by eliminating Zenos, she would be willing to take a few risks. The one credit she gave the male, he was smart, and not easily swayed. So she would give him the one thing he wanted from her, Zenos wanted to feel like a hunter capturing high value prey. If he wanted the chase, that is what she intended to give him.

That was how she found herself walking through the practically abandoned town and docks on the northwestern edge of the Glittering Basin. Conveniently, she was alone. Even more conveniently, she happened to be wandering through when the Imperial patrol was making its rounds. Of course they caught her unaware, as was planned. The viera offered no resistance when the two fully armored guards shackled her wrists and ordered her onto the boat. She could practically feel the pride radiating off the pair, only able to imagine the praise for themselves sounding in their minds, about what rewards the great Zenos yae Galvus may offer them for delivering the Warrior of Light right to his makeshift throne room. 

During the short boat ride, and much longer march through Doma Castle, Kenzie took note of what she could. The two guards did not have the common sense to blindfold her thankfully. Counts of guards and personnel were tallied in her mind, along with the random one or two Doman citizens she noticed. Clearly they kept little auxiliary support here, meaning the capture of Doma Castle had been little more than a front of power to keep the Domans oppressed and subservient. At least that meant very few people were priority rescue before they enacted Plan B, if they had to.

The mixed reactions were noted as she was paraded through the levels of the castle. Some imperial soldiers recoiled at the sight of her, murmuring whispers about how poorly she was restrained compared to the threat she had previously posed. Others simply stared with what she could assume was ill-believed triumph, as if their battle had ended that quickly. As they approached the two guards standing watch at the throne room, one audibly scoffed. “The savage bested the Ultima Weapon and the late Gaius van Baelsar… to only have the thing shackled- it is of no matter, Lord Zenos has been alerted and is awaiting her delivery.”

Part of Kenzie was surprised when the two large doors opened, torturously slow, to reveal an empty gallery room, with a lone person standing on the other end. Zenos. With or without the helmet, she knew who it was. That unique armor had been plaguing her dreams for weeks. Maybe that was a reason she was so willing to launch headlong into such a half-baked plan. Of course, she had her regrets now, but they wouldn't help her. Her mission was clear: get in, pinpoint Zenos, cause chaos, and flee. She needed to raise as much confusion as she could in a short amount of time, disorienting the legion here just enough that Zenos would have no choice but to give chase himself. If she could lure him back to the shores she just departed from, it would all be over, she was sure the Scions, Lord Hien, Yugiri, and Gosetsu were already there and waiting. 

Her two ‘captors’ marched her forward till they were about a third of the way into the room before they halted her with a harsh yank at the shackled chains between her wrists.

“Oh, how… disappointing, beast. I grant you mercy, allowing you to live another day to prepare for our meeting, only for you to squander it and find yourself captured.” Zenos spoke, not deigning to turn her way and look at the object of his obsession. Of all soldiers held within these walls, and not a single one questioned how easily the famed Warrior of Light had been captured? She may as well have been found with a pretty bow tied tight around her neck, just for him- imbeciles. “Truly you think so little of me, this little ruse of yours will not end well for you… Release her.”

“Yes, My Lord!” The pair called out. The left one reached for the key attached securely to his belt. Release her?

The order Zenos gave the guards confused Kenzie, and though he had seen through what brought her into Doma Castle, he was allowing the two to free her? For some reason, the thought chilled her blood. Zenos was too comfortable with her presence. There must have been something she did not account for, something she had missed, something she could not piece together in the few moments it took the Imperial guards to unbind her wrists. 

The one to her right landed a blow to the back of her knee, sending Kenzie buckling forward, putting her on her knees as an act of helpless submission. A leather wrapped hand grabbed the tip of her ear and pulled hard, yanking her head to one side as he leaned down to snarl through his metal helm. “Mind your tongue girl, lest we cut it out. Then how will you cry for mercy from Lord Zenos? You’d best pray to your false deities that he kills you himself, I think many soldiers including myself would love to take part in desecrating Eorzea's symbol of hope-”

Kenzie had not been listening, at least not fully. Her focus was on Zenos. The initial pain of the grating guard yanking her ear was hard to ignore, but that droning voice filled with such vile smugness- it's not as if she wasn’t used to people speaking to her like that. His words were something that had gone in one ear and out the other, never to be thought of again. But she had to have let her focus on Zenos lapse for a fraction of a second. Because one moment he still had his back to her at the other end of the room, and the next he was standing before her, blade drawn, with crimson staining the sharp edge, running down its length in droplets. 

The guard that had been spewing threats made a garbled, wet noise. Something akin to a gasp. Then there was the sound of metal clanging to the ground at her flank. The viera nearly turned her head to look at the crumpled guard, no doubt bleeding out beside her, just to see what had happened, till her brain registered the sticky warmth splattered against the side of her head. Dread filled her momentarily, was that her blood on his blade? No, couldn't be, she did not feel any pain. There was far too much blood pooling in her peripheral vision to be her own. That much and she would've lost consciousness by now. 

Icy blue eyes peered down at her through blonde lashes, only for a moment, before that cold gaze flickered to the man he had slain beside her. “I would urge you to mind your tongue, speaking such filth to someone that exceeds you by thousands of malms. Then again, such warnings would be wasted breath, it appears as if you've already drawn your last.” 

Kenzie should have been scared, with how quickly the gap had been closed between her and the enemy. She should have been in a frenzy, starting the fight that she would inevitably flee from, if she could just get one good hit in on Zenos- she could do it. But she could not will her body to move, pinned where she knelt when that vacant gaze returned to her dirtied face.

When he spoke again, Zenos did not address her, despite the way he stared at her as if he was trying to assess the make of her soul. “Let this be a warning, the Warrior of Light is mine to hunt. If the beast breathes, she is mine to capture. I will not have another tarnish what I intend to do by weakening her or wearing her down. She will give me her best. I want to see her bare her fangs. I will be the only one to make her feel like the trapped animal she is. I am assured I am well understood.”

“Y-yes, My Lord!!” The lone remaining guard stammered out confirmation, topping his bleating reply with a salute.

Finally, fear struck Kenzie. He understood what she had come here to do. Suddenly, the worst place in the world to her was to be trapped inside of Doma Castle with this monster.

[catte-bard]

A Begrudged Ally

From this prompt

I wrote this waaaay back around 4.5 when we knew absolutely nothing. This piece had been buried in my drafts for awhile and when shb rolled around I really didn’t know if I wanted to share it anymore since canon shot down my speculations.  But some friends nudged me to post it anyway.

She didn’t like this. It wasn’t right. 

And yet what choice did she have?

Plenty. Turn him over to Alliance forces. Tell him to fuck off and be on your way. Gut the bastard where he stands...

Though the only reason she didn’t just end Zenos’ life was because it would be at the cost of the poor soul whose body he had stolen. Bellona hated the crowned prince of Garlemald but she wasn’t sure if she hated him that much. To the point she’d sacrifice an innocent life just to be rid of one evil in the world...

And he knew that. He had looked at her with such an infuriating smugness in his eyes. He knew that the good and just Warrior of Light would never harm him if it was at the cost of an innocent. 

“Is it really so hard a decision to make?” Zenos inquired. He fixed her with an impatient look. “I want my body back and you want to be rid of the creature inhabiting it. It would benefit both of us greatly if we were to work alongside each other.”

But what happened once that was all finished? Would he allow them to simply go their separate ways? She doubted it. 

Bellona met his eyes. Strange how he bore a different face but he still had those same eyes. Cold, dark blue eyes that held something unnameable but frightening in them. The eyes of a beast.

She didn’t like what he was proposing at all. Didn’t like that she was even entertaining that option. No one would benefit from Zenos gaining his original body back. It felt like she would be betraying the Alliance and Eorzea as a whole.

“And what if I were to reject your offer?” Bellona asked, watching the Garlean prince carefully. His expression remained plain but she thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch with the ghost of a smile. “What if I simply went to confront the Ascian myself?”

“You won’t. You can’t.” Zenos simply said and took a step closer to her. Even in this new body his frame was imposing. “The creature bested you once. Do you truly think your next confrontation with be any different?

“I sense a new strength about you. But it will not be enough to destroy the foe you seek.” He leaned close, ceruleum blue eyes began to glow an ominous colour. The Resonant. “But if you had aide at your side? Perhaps our combined power could do something?”

A chill went down her spine as she looked into those frightening eyes. A perverted, twisted form of the Echo...She didn’t trust it. She didn’t trust him.

“Ah and she still hesitates.” Zenos purrs as he stands straight. 

“Perhaps it’s because I don’t know what exactly you plan to do if you get you body back.” Bellona told him.

“You need not be coy about it.” The prince replies. He moves, prowling around her. “You fear that I will betray you once I get my body back? You are smart for not trusting me completely, Warrior. But I am not an ungrateful man. If you help me, I promise that you will be duly rewarded.”

Bellona had to whirl around quickly to keep her eye on him. She still wasn’t reassured.

“You don’t have to say yes. I’m not forcing you to do anything. The choice is your own to make. If you wish, you could kill me where I stand or perhaps even turn me over to the Eorzeans.” He says, his voice low and cool. “But you will regret it. You need me.”

Warrior and prince stared each other down. Prowling about each other like two lions readying to leap at one another. A heavy, suffocating tension hung in the air. 

You need me. The audacity of his words made her blood boil. Had she not a handle on her self-control, she probably would have struck him in the face for that arrogant remark. 

I don’t need you. She wanted to tell him. That she could handle the Ascians and the Empire herself. She didn’t need his power. 

But...

It wouldn’t be the first questionable decision you’ve made.

Allies for her oft came from the most unlikely of places. And here was Zenos, the heir to the Garlean throne, proffering forth a hand. But there was something wrong about that. Something that left her feeling wary.

“Well?” He asked. 

An unlikely ally he was, but Zenos was different from all the others. She would need to tread carefully with him. 

And finally she yields. “You do know if you come with me you’ll be going against Garlemald. And your own father...”

A smile plays across his lips. 

Oh, he knew. The question was if he actually cared. And from the look on on his face she knew he didn’t. The man had little love for his homeland, she realized.

She couldn’t decide if that were frightening or sad. Neither could she decide if that were a good or a bad thing for her.

“I’m giving you only one chance.” Bellona slowly told him. “If you try anything suspicious, this little alliance is over.”

“Fair enough.” Zenos replied.

She shook her head. It astounded her how willing he was to work with her. Frankly, it made her a bit uncomfortable. It made it feel as if he had his own ulterior motives for this alliance. 

She’d definitely have to keep an eye on him.

“Admiring me are you? I must admit this vessel is rather striking.” Zenos purred, “But I do have a preference for the flesh I was born with.”

Bellona felt her face growing hot, not realizing how long she’d been leering at him. If this was to be how the majority of there interactions went...“I hate you, just so you know.” 

Oh he knew. He’d be disappointed if he saw anything other than fiery anger in her eyes whenever she looked at him. Zenos chuckled.  “Oh, darling, you break my heart.”

Yeah right...“You don’t have a heart to break.” Bellona grumbled back, looking away from him. “And don’t ever call me darling again.” She cared not for any pet names from him.

“As you wish. But I do hope to learn your real name eventually. Since we are to be working close with one another.” 

Fine...

But only because she’d rather not deal with any other pet names he might find suit to bestow upon her.

“Bellona...” Came the begrudging answer. Already regretting giving the man the power to call her by her name.

Zenos’ eyes seemed to light up. “Very well then, Bellona.” The way he said her name sent chills down her spine. As if tasting it, reveling in each syllable.”Shall we be off? I’m sure you must be excited to start this new quest.”

The warrior glared at him. The heir to the Garlean throne was the last person she’d ever think to be her traveling companion. 

“I don’t trust you.” Bellona leered. And Zenos cocked his head to the side. He knew that already. He expected her distrust--her hatred. And it didn’t wound him in the least. 

“If it were any other way, I’d let the Alliance throw you in the darkest most disgusting dungeon and do whatever they wanted to you.” She told him, every syllable dripped with enmity. She wanted him to know just how much she hated this situation. “But this unfortunate turn of events seems to have set us on the same path. I don’t like it, I don’t like you, but if fixing this mess truly has come down to us...working with each other...”

Gods, just saying it aloud left a bad taste on her tongue...

Bellona let out a long suffering sigh. “Then I suppose I can learn how to play nice for now.”

The prince smiled. Was that so hard? His gaze seemed to ask. 

“I have always longed to see standing side by side one day.” He says. “Lead the way, my friend. I’m interested in where this path fate has laid out for us leads.”

As am I. Bellona thought with a grimace.

[jenovahh]

KYKM - 14 Months, 18 Days

Zenos has learned to feel many things in the past year since he had joined you.

He has learned the bitterness of regret, the lows of remorse, the sting of rejection.

He has felt the high of euphoria, the warmth of contentment, the fire of passion.

Oh, but what he would give to never, ever again feel fear.

To his credit, he hides it quite well as you kneel on the ground before him, his arms barely restrained by some incredibly powerful spell that the Exarch had turned on him, his teeth bared in a snarl as he fights to free himself.

The ones known as Urianger and Thancred use their weight to keep him pinned to the ground, knowing that if he was allowed any leeway he would slice the Exarch’s head clean from his body without a second thought.

“Do not...interfere...” Urianger grunts, using all his strength to keep him in place. Whatever spell is cast on him is doing the majority of the work, for his will is so strong that even without magic he can feel the bonds slowly breaking.

You look like you’re in unbearable pain, pain that he could not possibly relieve you of. Pain that was not caused by him and him alone. He roars in rage, hardly hearing the Exarch’s words of self sacrifice, uncaring of whatever higher purpose or so called greater cause he planned to serve.

What good is his sacrifice, if he had to watch you suffer?

“Can you not see?!” Urianger hisses, trying to strengthen the spell once more. “He is saving them!” 

The Elezen’s words only incite his fury, turning his head to sneer at him. “When have any of you, ever done,” His words are silenced by the sound of gunfire, whipping his head back around to look over your body, checking for any injury. Finding none save for the light spilling from you, he turns to watch as the Exarch falls to the ground in a heap.

“Exarch!” He hears the Scions shout, watching as his great-grandfather stands there alone, lowering his gun. “Only those who posses the Allagan eye may control the Crystal Tower. Such individuals do not exist on the First.” The gun vanishes into thin air, his arms hanging limp at his sides. “Therefore, in all likelihood, the Exarch arrived here with the tower. This much I had surmised, yet I could not discern his grand scheme.” With measured steps he moves toward the fallen Exarch, staring down at him with a bored expression that obviously got passed down the family line. “To think, that he went through all this trouble for the sake of a single hero. It’s almost admirable in its absurdity.”

Sighing, he speaks, “Alas, it is not your grand scheme that will succeed, but ours.” 

“You bastard!” Thancred snarls.

“Stay put. Your friend is still alive, but whether he remains so depends on you.” He gives a confident smirk, looking back toward the Exarch. “And I’m not feeling up to dealing with my unruly grandson quite yet. After all, you cannot challenge me without letting him go. How does your little proverb go again? Chase two rabbits and both will get away.” 

Turning to face you, the Warrior, the disdain on Emet-Selch’s face is clear as day. “What a disappointment you turned out to be.” Zenos feels affronted on your behalf, staring daggers into the back of his grandfather’s head. “I placed my faith in you. Let myself believe you could contain the Light. But look at you now, halfway to becoming a monster. You are unworthy of my patronage.”

“W-What did you intend to do?” He hears you choke out, hunched over impossibly further. 

Emet-Selch raises his arms, shakes his head. “I am an Ascian. My heart’s sole desire is to user in the Great Rejoining.” Looking upon the rest of the group, he speaks, “A hundred years ago, I entrusted my comrade Loghrif with the task of increasing Light’s sway over this world. This we sought to do by manipulating heroes. When that failed to achieve the desired result, I created Vauthry.”  Brows furrowing, the Ascian grumbles, “But thanks to your meddling, that too has ended in failure.” 

“What was your true purpose in approaching us?” Alphinaud demands.

“By your Twelve, boy, have I not told you before that everything I said was the truth?” He finally turns fully to them, his voice low. “You were specimens by which I might gauge man’s potential as it stands. I genuinely had an interest in you. Genuinely considered taking you on as allies.” His eyes wander back toward you, Zenos catching that earlier disappointment and...something more within those gold eyes. “Provided they, could contain and control the Light.” 

He turns to face you completely once more. “If not then them--and by extension you--would be of no use to me. ‘Twas as simple as that.” 

“So, we’ve been found wanting. How disheartening.” Thancred drawls, clearly not at all hurt by the thought. What angered Zenos further is how they all stood around, clearly too weak to do anything in your hour of need, merely watching as his grandfather monologued and degraded their precious tool. 

“Consider yourselves lucky. Had you managed to be worthy of my power and still stand against me, I would have killed you all. At the very least, it would restore the world to the way it was before you went about trouncing Lightwardens all willy-nilly.” Emet-Selch offers smugly, lips pulled into a smirk. 

You grab their attention by retching, light spilling from your mouth and onto the ground. Emet-Selch approaches slowly, that fear rising in Zenos’ chest til it forces him to speak. “Do not touch them!” He yells, fighting harder to break his bonds. 

“Hm...you still retain your form and your senses...but you have all but become a sin eater.” Emet-Selch muses, ignoring him as he crouches before you. “Whether you will it or no, your mere existence will serve to engulf the world in Light.” Zenos’ eyes widen as Emet-Selch whispers, wondering if he had meant his next words for anyone to hear. “I had believed in you. With that soul, I had thought...you have turned on me, once again. My friend...”

Standing, he takes one long look at you. “But I have overstayed my welcome.” He says louder this time. “I shall look forward to seeing you bring the world to its knees, hero.” With a snap, the Exarch vanishes, much to the horror of the Scions. Floating high above them, Emet-Selch gives another glance at your body as it shines even brighter. “I pity you, I do.”

His voice is somewhat soft, as if speaking to an old friend. “When it all becomes too much to bear, you may seek me out in my abode in the dark depths of the Tempest. There, you may complete your descent into madness with some dignity, far from prying eyes.” Shutting his eyes, his expression is almost pained. “It is the least I could do for you.”

As he vanishes, you finally collapse. His binds suddenly disperse and he all but throws the two men off of him, rushing to your side. “Warrior!” he shouts, bringing you into his arms. 

“Zenos!” He hears them shout but he pays them no mind, searching your face, shaking your body. “You are stronger than this,” he growls, mind racing a thousand malms a minute. He shifts to slides his arm under your legs, one under your back to keep you safe against him.

“Let them go you,”

“No, Thancred, wait.” Ryne interupts, quickly running to his side. Something in the young girl’s eyes shine wiser beyond her years; as if she can see past his anger and frustration gleaming in his own blue eyes.

As if she can see his fear.

“I will need him to carry the Warrior of Light until we can get them back to the Crystarium.” He can hear her voice waver, clearly unused to taking charge of the situation. “There, I can try to contain the light. At least long enough for us to figure something out. He’s clearly not going to hurt them, so please,”

“Do as she says.” He orders, his voice like ice as he stares them down. He did not expect the young girl to be able to help them, small as she is, but in the same breath he is not surprised that she the only one of actual use. Only her promise to help keep him from killing them all for failing you. The Scions visibly flinch beneath his cold stare, Urianger being the first to speak. “Very well. We have much to process. Quickly,”

Without another word, he hurries to descend the giant Talos. He clutches you tighter with each step, silently cursing his inability to teleport and return you to the Crystarium at a faster pace. Anger is the only thing that keeps that fear a at bay; at his grandfather, at your friends, at himself.

At you, for showing him yet another emotion.

To show him, what it’s like to feel helpless.

[sootcloak]

Face The Light

~1500 words of bickering dialogue and tense exchanges.

January Prompt: Scion - A descendant of a wealthy, aristocratic, or influential family.

@seaswolchallenge

    The atmosphere in the Rising Stones should have been warm, jolly even. The Archons returned from their stint afar, a cure for tempering discovered, and the Garlean Empire destabilized all in such a short time. Several causes for celebration. And yet -

    “You’re leaving - again.” Her voice is biting, fiery. It’s a growling thing, all passion and heat. The dark-skinned vieran woman, clad in imposing plate and standing head and shoulders above everyone else, casts her shadow and gaze both over Vavara’s back. She crosses her arms, the sound of metal-on-metal rasping. Any conversation which had been quietly humming in the background grinds to a halt, eyes slowly turning towards the center chamber.

    “Coward.” The word is less spit than fired as one would launch an arrow.

    “Aye.” Vavara says. It’s a hoarse, metallic whisper, as though heard through a linkshell. Distant.

    “So all that talk about being at our side when you’re needed - about having common enemies and goals? Bluster and hot air?”

    “Watch your words.” The metallic whistling which rides under her voice rises, like a distant siren warning of danger. A faint breeze blows through the Rising Stones.

    “Oh as if you ever watch yours. You don’t get to just walk away. This is bigger than you, than me, you can’t just abandon what we learned in the First and leave it in the past. Can’t run away from this.” She steps up, arms moving to her side and fists clenching. Can hear the leather twist and stretch in her grasp.

    “Not my fight. Can’t run from something I wasn’t party to.” Vavara adjusts the strap of her rifle, Dreizack and Long Goodbye tapping against one another.

    “Oh fuck off, you’ve been to bleeding Amaurot. You finally, finally admitted you’re blessed as I am. You can fucking toss that ‘above it all’ attitude right this fucking minute. You were chosen for this, same as me. It will find you, whether you run or not.”

    “Then it will find me on my terms. Last warning,” Vavara turns her head and shoulders, eyes casting a deep, emerald light onto the carpet. “Watch your words.”

    “Ohhh~ Spooooky~.” The Warrior of Light spreads her arms, waggling her fingers and sneering. “That kind of cheap trick works on second-rate pirates and brigands peddling Somnus, but I’m better than-”

    No one has the time to respond before Vavara’s pulled her rifle from her back and fired a round. It strikes the center-mass of her chest, plate-mail cracking and shattering. Her eyes go wide, and the wind whips around the chamber.

    With it, Vavara glides across the ground, stopping just shy of arm’s length of the other woman. The rifle’s barrel presses into the broken armor, where a shell of aether stopped the bullet right before it struck skin.

    “You’re not better than me. And we were not chosen for the same purpose, if there was any at all.” Vavara’s eyes are wide and unblinking, burning with aether and resentment. It’s a cold, searing light. “Just because you’re willing to traipse off and die a dozen more times for people who are just there to profit off you does not make you a hero. Makes you stupid and gullible. A weapon at best, a disposable one at worst. So you can drop the goddamn superiority complex.

    “You can claim you’re a hero all you like - but you’re not. You’re fucking dangerous. You encouraged a child - a twelvedamned child who is impressionable and fucking powerful in ways she did not and does not understand - to take on a primal’s aspect full-knowing it could get her killed. That she was following your lead - potentially to her death. How did Ysayle die, again?” Vavara pulls the rifle away, the wind swirling around her and a quiet, rapid vortex. Cutting and sharp and vicious, unbound.

    “How did you get Haurchefant killed?” The words aren’t accusatory, but venomous. Poking at a wound already there, prodding it back open.

    “That wasn’t-” She stammers a moment, flinching as though struck.

    “Your fault? Then who did he shield when you dashed out thinking you were fucking immortal?” Vavara presses further, stepping in so the wind pushes the tails of the viera’s armored coat backwards.

    “I am-” A brief, halfhearted defense starts, shot down immediately.

    “You’re not fucking immortal, Twelve fucking take you. Echo keeps your aether steady, stops your body from being taken by the lifestream and helps you stay in tact in the between times while you’re fucking medically dead. All it’d take to kill you is a well-placed auracite bullet or a potent stream of aether. Trap the soul, shatter the stone, same as a twelvesdamned Ascian.

    “What was that spear made of again, which would have run you through had he not fucking died to stop it? Right - pure light-aspected aether. Would’ve done wonders for your complexion, I’m sure.” Vavara says knowingly.

    “So shut the fuck up and stop pretending you’re better than me when you got two of my only twelvesdamned friends fucking killed, and nearly put the blood of a fucking child on my hands. All of you - racing off to be made martyrs - you’re just putting other people in harm's way. That’s not fucking heroic. It’s childish irresponsibility.

    “And I’ll have no part in it.”

    “So what, you’ll just run and decide you’re above fighting and dying? That you’re too important to put yourself on the line?! That’s not practical, it’s selfish! To put their deaths on me, you fucking bitch, is the height of irony! You were off murdering Crystal Braves when Haurchefant was killed! You were still off in your own blood-crazed spree when Ysayle died! Taking unjustified ‘revenge’. If you’d been there, with us, they might not have had to make that sacrifice!” The fire in her voice reignites as Vavara moves to leave again. All the shame in her posture and body evaporates, wrath and indignation subsuming it wholly.

    “What happens if the twins are in danger and need help, and no one’s there to stand with them? Would their blood be on your hands then, if not because you ran them through but because you decided that they weren’t worth saving?

    “That this wasn’t your fight? As though we haven’t just gone over how it’s everyone’s fight? How we haven’t just gone over how Fandaniel is trying to recreate the Final Days?” She’s nearly shouting. There’s a magnetic quality to her speech, the gravity of a star pulling you in.

    “...” Vavara’s eyes shut, her grip on the strap and stock of her rifle loosening a fraction.

    “I swear to Nald’thal if you say ‘they made their decisions to fight’ I’ll run you through. As though Ryne didn’t do just that. Make a decision of her own free will.”

    “Before the Final Days kills everyone, the Empire will burn their fields and their crops.” The wind dies. Vavara’s eyes open, dull and without light or life.

    “What?”

    “Before the apocalypse comes, someone on my list will take men and women off the streets of Imperial provinces and do unspeakable things to them. Before the Empire falls and you declare a hollow victory over the enemy, pirates will make townships vanish as their people are spirited away into slavery.” She grimaces and continues, each word slow and deliberate.

    “Before you have the chance to martyr yourself to defeat the ‘greater evil’ or defend the ‘greater good’, a thousand other ‘lesser evils’ will rise up and destroy everything someone holds dear. So I will take my cheap tricks which work on second-rate pirates and somnus dealers over your grand theatrics every day.

    “And when I must, I will take those same cheap tricks and apply them to those same ‘greater evils’ you spend years mustering the strength to face.” She slings her rifle back over her shoulder. Her hand brushes the shaft of her spear briefly.

    “And fail.” A weight like gunmetal weighs on Vavara’s shoulders. The words fall like snow on her back. “As with Zenos.”

    “Yes. And one of those failures, I will die alone, afraid, and full of regrets. But I alone will die, and drag no one down with my rotting corpse. If you had failed when you faced Emet-Selch, how many people would have died?” She turns, taking one slow step away after another.

    “That’s different.”

    “I don’t care if it is. You chose those stakes.”

    “It worked out.”

    “How long will your luck hold?”

    “I have faith.”

    “I’ve seen enough to know that’s a quick way to die. I prefer to have options.”

    “That’s rarely how this works - you have to make decisions with limited choices, even if it means walking a more narrow road.”

    “That so, Azem? How many are you willing to let die on that narrow road?”

    “...” A stunned silence hangs in the air.

    “...” She stares at the back of her head, at the careful, greying braid. The realization that a line had just been drawn slowly falls over her. The purposeful use of the old, ascian title.

    “Do not call me that.”

    “I’m leaving, Azem.”

    “Coward. Traitor.”

    “Aye.”

[jenovahh]

KYKM - 7 Months, 5 Days

The Warrior of Light has gone off to run some form of errand and Zenos is willing to let them. He knows his battle will come, he’s not worried about the if any longer. It’s but a matter of when.

Being able to stroll around Eorzea at his leisure has become less foreign and more welcome instead. Things are still dull when you’re not dragging him along into dungeons and to fight whatever manner of beast you need to hunt, but things are noticeably less...boring. He has learned patience in waiting for your return, knowing things will be all the better when you do.

And it allows him to lure his current follower into less populated locales.

“Whoever you are, I think you’ve tailed me long enough.” he speaks aloud, hearing nothing save the chirping of crickets and a distant stream.

And then there is movement, quick and fast, Zenos dodging a perfectly thrown lance as if it were merely a stick. “I see a change of hosts has not dampened your fabled skill.” The voice is masculine, coming from somewhere in the trees. It does not take long for the mystery voice to reveal itself, an Elezen man landing before him.

His hair is silver, hanging down to his shoulders across azure platemail. It’s of stellar quality, shining brightly even in the moonlight. His blue eyes are trained on him in a leveled glare, dark and brooding in a near permanent scowl.

“Estinien, the Azure Dragoon I believe?” Zenos inquires, pulling the lance from the ground and tossing it back with little care. Estinien growls as he snatches it out the air, hoisting it on his back once more.

“Aye. Didn’t expect the Warrior of Light to go on about me, if you know my name.” He bristles. The man’s stance can hardly be called relaxed. It is somewhere between on edge and wary, distrust shining through every facet of his posture.

“To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the esteemed Azure Dragoon then?” Zenos purrs, chuckling as Estinien riles up further.

“Don’t bullshit me.” he growls. “You might have the Warrior of Light fooled, but I’m well aware who you are crown prince.” he hisses, to which Zenos narrows his eyes.

“If that is so, have you come to put an end to my charade?” he asks, not bothering to be stealthy about his hand palming the hilt of his blade. 

“Don’t even bother.” Estinien seethes, not even bothering to reach for his lance. “I didn’t come to fight, even if I threw my lance at you. And if you know who I am, you know it’s best you don’t fight me either.”

Zenos hums lightly at that. So far what stories you recounted about your friends had rang true; the dragoon who disappeared without a trace after his job was done. You had lamented missing his presence, his scathing glares and dry wit. If he knew his true identity, it could only mean he had been tailing him for a long time.

“You are a wise man.” Zenos smirks, crossing his arms instead. The compliment lacks any sincerity but Estinien doesn’t lose his stride.

“Just...” He mumbles something under his breath. “Look, I didn’t come here to get distracted. I came to ask what your intentions are.”

With the Warrior of Light is left unsaid. Not one to beat around the bush it seems, which he could appreciate to a degree. “My intentions are mine own.” he offers cryptically, watching as the dragoon’s brows furrow impossibly further. “I am merely waiting for the duel the Warrior has promised me; nothing more.”

“To which I call bullshit.” Estinien grumbles, teeth glinting in the night. “I didn’t expect a truthful answer out of you, bloody surprised I got one at all...” he trails off, his posture shifting the tiniest bit. “I only ask because you two have become...closer.”

A devilish grin lights Zenos’ face, unable to resist goading the obviously wound up man. “Feeling jealous then? From what I’ve heard you and I are quite similar. We have both assumed the form of dragons, enjoy the Warrior of Light’s company...have you come to tell me of your unrequited love?” 

Estinien scoffs, his own smirk plastered on his face. “Hardly. I am not wont to be jealous of someone else wooing their heart, when our relationship was only physical.” That catches Zenos off guard, unable to school his expression fast enough.

“Surprised, prince? Surely you did not think the Warrior of Light so green and naive? To not crave the pleasures of the flesh?” Estinien asks smugly, preening from having him on the back foot. 

Actually no, he had not. Your shy glances, your flushed face at his occasional nearness, he had expected you not to be acquainted with such carnal desires. It was not something he thought on heavily where you were concerned, but seeing the man across from him taunt him so openly, knowing that someone else had known your touch...

“I would expect a savage to do something as crude as gloat about his conquests.” It is Zenos’ turn to seethe, hand suddenly itching to feel his sword run through anything. As much as he would like to strike down the man before him for his insolence, he cannot. There would be no forgiveness for killing one of your dear friends, and it angers him more that this Estinien knows that. 

If only you could understand the beauty that execution had when it came to solving problems.

“’Tis not a matter of gloating. Merely statement of fact.” Estinien begins, moving to lean against a nearby tree. “The Warrior merely wanted someone they trusted for comfort; without worry of bringing danger to them. A fellow weapon who could not be used against them.” Estinien’s voice is gentler now, speaking of you.

“Call me soft, but I just don’t want to see them suffer anymore than they already have. It’s only taken this long for me to interfere because, Halone damn it all, for some fuckin’ reason you make them happy.

They’ve not known...peace since your death. Perhaps I am partially at fault; abandoning them in a time of need while I struggled to find a new purpose. When you died they were sadder. Lost. I cannot claim to understand whatever bond it is you two share. But since you’ve started traveling together, they’ve been happier. Smiling again. And that is the only reason I have let you keep your little secret.”

Estinien’s eyes are now cold and distant, a sudden darkness in them he did not know the man capable of. “But by the Fury, if you do anything, anything, to hurt the Warrior of Light and you know damn well I don’t mean only physically...” his voice is murderous, and for a moment the pure killing intent rolling off the man before him is enough to make him reach for his sword again. “Man without equal or no, I will strike you down.”

Zenos narrows his eyes in return, hand still palming the hilt of his sword. As much as he would enjoy coming to blows with the man before him, or dismissing his threat, he knows it is not wise. At the first sign of trouble, he’s positive that the dragoon wouldn’t hesitate to expose him. To throw away the trust you had placed in him. “Worry not for the Warrior’s well being dragoon. I have taken care of them thus far. ” 

Energy clashes in the forest as the men try to make the other submit by sheer will alone, neither willing nor wanting to back down. “I will hold you to your word.” Estinien finally grunts, rolling his shoulders casually, turning to leave. “I leave the Warrior of Light in your hands. Don’t make me regret it.”

With a graceful leap, the Azure Dragoon takes off into the canopy, the trees shaking in his wake. Zenos remains there for a moment, staring at the spot where he had disappeared, before finally taking his leave.