#emet-sarc

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #18 - Devil’s Advocate

Solus zos Galvus lay in state and his grandson could not bear to look at his body. He looked down instead and counted to twenty. The low percussive blast of some piece of artillery sounded in the distance as he mouthed a few words and then turned away from the body. It was a show for the gathered professional mourners, but it was a necessary one, for Varis yae Galvus could not let it be known how much contempt he had for the man, the thing that was there now. He passed a relative of his, another Cousin yae Galvus, while exiting the basilica. No words, no familiar touch of grief, or exchange of looks. Their respective honor guards had to rotate awkwardly around each other as they passed.

This was the man's damn legacy. This was as much as he deserved. The Yaes were at war after all.

Varis made his way back to what served as his base of operations, a royal manor turned fortress on the outskirts of the capital city. His men saluted and delivered reports to him as he walked back to his office, to which he either nodded but slightly or did not acknowledge at all. These were not decisions he had to make, he had enough faith in the military machine he had organized to optimize solutions to the operational problems it faced. Any glaring inefficiencies were either quickly solved or, well, Varis was not fit to rule and would be summarily eliminated by one of his family members who would ascend to the title of Zos. He couldn't care less either way. These were not machinations that he desired to influence.

The decisions he had to make, the machinations that he had to influence, awaited him in his office.

"Hello Father."

"Hello Zenos."

The man was for once out of his armor and had his feet propped up on Varis's desk, knocking over a pile of documents and spilling papers onto the floor. Varis took his seat behind the desk and didn't even bother to rearrange his papers.

Zenos knew, almost as well as Varis did, that it was all a show. The papers were not important. If they were not read and signed by him in the upcoming days or fortnights, they would be executed upon in a timely manner regardless in order of priority. Barring the usual corruption, anything flagrant would also iron itself out by Oversight, usually in the form of public executions. Varis was just continuing the proud traditions of his grandfather.

But the show was important. Why, imagine if an officer were to come in that very moment! What would he think!

Varis recognized it for what it was, Zenos leaned on the show, the machine and idly lifted the curtain or threw screws or bolts into its inner workings to see what happened, as a cat would tip a glass from the table. Nothing in the office or of the show or of the machine interested his son. And really, could Varis blame him?

"I'm please to report that the Domans are in full revolt, and without further orders or intervention, our forces deployed are on the back foot."

"And? What of it?" All of the Yaes were recalled for an official mourning period, whether any of them actually were mourning was not of importance.

"It's enough of an emergency rationale to rush the Viceroy back, is it not? Shouldn't I leave immediately to quell the insurgency?"

Varis flitted his eyes up at Zenos, "You've yet to visit your great-grandfather's body."

"And would that be enough? Would I be able to pay whatever respects I'm suppose to pay and have permission to leave? You know as well as I do that I would have been the first to burst into tears, tear at my clothes, and beat my chest in front of his still cooling body if it made a difference at all. An entire moon of mourning is ludicrous."

"With the succession crisis at hand, you are to stay put until a new Emperor is recognized. The risk of assassination is too great."

To this, Zenos sputtered and nearly laughed while rolling his eyes. The half laugh itself was disturbing. "The only people capable of assassinating anyone in this office currently are sitting in this office right now. Let's end the succession crisis right now, you and me."

Varis waved his hand in dismissal, though, Zenos was right. As set up right now, many others would have to die before anyone could get even close enough to strike at either of them. In fact, that was among the reasons Zenos stayed afield.

Reasons on both their ends.

"I don't know how you do it, Father. Were I to live the life you have, with all of your bureaucratic layers and politicking and machinery, I would feel no more alive than that corpse in state right now. And I don't. I'm so bored I think I should will my heart into stopping. My limbs feel sluggish enough already." He gestured at a single document he had cleared the way for on Varis's desk. "I've found my redeployment order in the mess of documents you have there. I've helpfully filled it out for you too. Just sign and stamp it and I'll be on my way, and out of your way."

Varis didn't do either. The two stared each other down until Zenos looked away, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

"Well, I'll be back tomorrow to ask again." He extricated himself from his sitting arrangement and pushed another stack of documents to the floor. "Be well, Father. I pray for your imminent victory and succession."

That left Varis in the room almost alone.

"What an unpleasant boy you've neglected to raise," said a voice.

Varis stared at the door so recently slammed shut.

"I suppose that is as much my fault as yours, is it not? A product of this mighty Empire."

"I take it, if I am being visited in such a way," Varis said, "That Zenos's prayers have been answered?"

Derisive laughter filled the office, "It really does take the joy and wonder out of life, does it not? Knowing and seeing the machine for what it is? Now, why not let the boy go?"

"If he left so soon, it would be a sign of confidence, over-confidence maybe. To play my hand in such a way in these games would focus all attention to my position."

"Are you that insecure about the military might and organization so set up around you? You would insult you and yours so?"

Varis turned his head away from the voice, "To hold my cards close to my chest in such a, delicate, situation is not cowardice."

"Aye, may as well just let the situation play itself out, yes?" The voice walked over to the window that overlooked the capital and the smoke that rose from the fires of conflict.

"Or, you could send him, extinguish what little hope these other cretins have for winning the civil war. A decisive victory eliminating the unrest in Doma would push many to your favor."

Varis almost looked over to the window, his brow furrowed with anger.

"Ah, but I'm just idly speculating. Arguing for the sake of arguing. You could send the boy a tad early, just to see what would happen, yes?"

And then Varis was truly alone.

Or at least, as alone as he could be as a puppet on a string in the grand show. Ticking away as another component in the grand machine.

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #3 - Scale

If one could trace Shite Creek from Shite Valley back up to the tributaries of shite that run down Mt. Shite all the way to the shite spring or the shite meltwaters, maybe, maybe that would represent how far up Chai-Nuzz was without a paddle or a canoe. Woe be the feculent explorer who summited the mountain for the first time, for he would find Chai-Nuzz's backside sticking up artlessly out of the feculence source.

Aye, he said it could be done. Aye, they pledged their support behind his every demand and were off to rouse all of bally Norvrandt to his aid. Aye, they hailed him the heir to Daedalus Stoneworks. Aye, he had quickly done the calculations necessary in his head and everything seemed to work.

But, and this was the crucial but, he dealt normally in fulms and yalms of material. Not malms. Sure, much of what must be done was fairly easy to bring to scope. It was a matter of multiplying numbers. That wasn't the problem if those adventurers came through with the crew that they believed themselves able to muster. No, what he was dealing with was the theoretical upper limit to aetherial manipulation.

The gist is this: there was only so much material by weight that could be imbued with one crystal of aether of a given size. This was a simple constant proportional to the size of the crystal, and for things even the size of Talos, this was almost negligible. But at a certain point, the weight of the crystals bearing aether would begin to impact the overall weight of the imbued item. In most things of that size and magnitude, buildings and aetheryte networks primarily, this was again not too much of an issue, as they were primarily stationary.

But the Talos required, all told, hundreds of thousands of tonze of stone, if not more, and all of it needed to move. At that weight, the crystals required would begin to compound exponentially as more crystals became necessary to move all the material together and those crystals added their own weight to the entire lot. This fundamental principle could in essence be demonstrated by the way Vauthry took only the summit of Mt. Gulg with him into the air. He probably took everything that was feasible to take with him without all of his aether to just keep more of the mountain afloat. And Chai-Nuzz had agreed to attempt something bigger and much more ambitious.

His calculations took him far past his bedtime. Dulia had stayed up as long as she could, but her attempts to lean lightly on his shoulder nearly bowled him over, so she left with a wish of good night and good luck. As for him, he was far too anxious to sleep. The fear of being caught in his underclothing when the whole of Norvandt came knocking was as potent as any coffee he may have enjoyed in his youth. Imagine telling all of them, Alphinaud especially, that he was so sorry, the physical laws of nature just made it impossible, that the Talos would come crashing down on its own weight before it could stand?

* * *

It wasn't running away. It was simply a quick walk to clear his mind of those miserable numbers. Some fresh air to bring with it a fresh perspective. Amity was quiet as almost everyone would be asleep at this hour. Whatever the state of the sky, an agreed upon schedule for rest kept people sane outside of Eulmore it seemed. Chai-Nuzz wondered if the same sort of schedule would come to that city as well, now that Vauthry's decadence was cast out. It was perhaps healthier for all around anyroad, no more servants waking at the beck and call of their capricious masters. He had always felt guilty about waking one of his exhausted maids when he needed something done, though they always seemed so eager to help.

So lost in his own thoughts about Eulmore's, and his, future, Chai-Nuzz found himself walking straight out of the outskirts of Amity, towards Mt. Gulg. If anything, no one would accuse him of running away from his problem. It was there that he chanced upon an overdressed skulker with eyes fixed upon the former volcano. Chai-Nuzz's gaze was also instinctively drawn up, and the Mystel slowed down to a halt next to the taller man.

He seemed not to have the stature of a Galdjent, but he was much too tall for a Hume. He wore a tired and mournful expression, like his pet bird had flown into the rafters and wouldn't come back down. Despite his stifling outfit of a coat, scarf, robes, and more, he seemed unperturbed in the heat. There was something about him that Chai-Nuzz couldn't place. At least he wasn't some sort of beast or sin eater.

After a chime or two of shared silence and contemplation of the floating summit, Chai-Nuzz spoke up, "H-hello there, are you from Eulmore as well? Come from the Ladder to see the sights?"

The tall man rolled his eyes in a conspicuous manner, like he wanted Chai-Nuzz to observe how hard he could roll his eyes at him.

"Everything's gone all queer so quickly," Chai-Nuzz continued, "I feel as if my mind hasn't caught up yet to all the, the excitement."

As he realized Chai-Nuzz meant to attempt to hold a conversation, the tall man's expression flashed to anger and indignation but then quickly returned to a more tired resignation, "I suppose, in a way, I feel much the same. Have you come to voice your woes at a stranger, in a vain attempt to relieve yourself?"

"I-I wouldn't put it like that, but it would seem that we both have troubles to air."

"You wouldn't know the half of it," there was a pause of contemplation, "And I'm afraid the scant details you could comprehend would break your precious little mind much more than the traumatic last few days you've had, I'm sure."

"Ah." Chai-Nuzz said, for there was little that could be said in response, "W-well, I'd still be willing to, to listen if it helps."

"It will not, but perhaps it would be amusing." The stranger's eyes turned back to the summit of Mt. Gulg, "Eulmoreans don't care much for subtlety anymore, do they? The halo is both outlandish and base."

"That I would agree. We really have been obsessed with excess these past twenty or so years. Of course we aren't free of blame, but waking up from Vauthry's influence does put everything in a sobering light."

"Look at how the underside crumbles away! It's barely holding as it is due to the stone's internal integrity. In a few short years all of it will have worn away save the tip. Disgraceful."

"Are you saying Vauthry's only imbued the very top of the volcano with aether?"

The taller man looked down with a scowl, "Yes indeed. He's pulled the top off as a babe would pull on the head of a mammet."

"Those stones aren't floating underneath, they're just there because even stone of that size and quantity naturally holds together?"

"Yes. Are you going to repeat my every sentence as a question from now on?"

Chai-Nuzz jumped in the air and clicked his heels together, punching the air as he came down. He grabbed the stranger's gloved hand and shook it vigorously, "My good man, a thousand thanks! I've got it!"

The Mystel ran back to Amity whooping all the while. The taller man looked down at his glove and vaguely wondered if he should dispose of it.

* * *

The plan was simple. It was a lot of stone, but it needn't all be imbued. The joints would have the largest concentration of crystal, but for the length of the limbs, only the surface needed minor imbuing, perhaps in overlapping sections as the skin of a snake. The rest could be trusted to hold on its own, at least for the time that it would take for Alphinaud and his friends to ascend to the top. The Talos may hold for years or crumble in days, but neither mattered, the deed would be done and the Night returned to Kholusia.

And nothing could go wrong!

Chai-Nuzz finished wrapping up his blueprint as Dulia-Chai arose. He excitedly embraced his wife and gave her a kiss on the lips before grabbing all of his papers to meet with the Crystal Exarch and Alphinaud's assistant.

Nothing could go wrong.

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #23 - Soul

Emet Selch slouched at the borders of Slitherbough as the celebrations wore into the night, the glorious new night. The first night in generations. Truly all were the Night's Blessed today.

It felt good not to be constantly exposed to that hideous light, like the weight of an accusatory glare were lifted from his back. He had borne with it simply because it was supposed to be a temporary consequence of his plan and what these sundered beings did and were up to was interesting enough to suffer for. He would take a nap though, and perhaps a great long sleep after all of it was over. It was his plan after Solus, but then someone had to go and ruin the set up for the Rejoining by offing that Ishgardian Oaf.

Really, it was a mess of things all in all. The sundered fools managed to create out the conditions for another Rejoining from under his nose. Oh the sleepless nights his fellows endured to prime yet another of the shards for Rejoining as plans for the original seventh Rejoining continued unabated!

Not that they needed to sleep.

And now they had to find a way to ready the Source for the now-Eighth Rejoining. Gods above did the sundered not make it easy. It was enough to give him pause, and so far the results were curious. Azem was always wont to adopt and gather the most... unlikely of allies.

And one said ally approached him now.

"Ah, the Miqo-- sorry, the Mystel Matoya, I believe? To what assuredly important frivolity do I owe the honor of this personal call?"

Y'shtola bristled. Oh she tried to hide it by moving her tail out of view, but Emet Selch still caught the hitch in her breathing and the flicker of annoyance in her face. It was delectable, like a bitter piece of dark chocolate. The sundered weren't worth much to him, but at least he could derive some entertainment from their follies.

"What, was the orgy not enough for you? Did you need something more invigorating? Perhaps a nap? I could always go for a nap."

The Miqo'te crossed her arms, "'Tis hardly an orgy, I've been to worse."

He cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

"No, I'm here for another reason completely. You were able to pull me out of the lifestream whole."

"Well, you could hardly be called whole with the way your aether has been so crudely pulled apa--"

"How did you do it when the Elementals couldn't even begin to do it without much guidance?"

He furrowed his brow at being interrupted but at least she was here to ask the right sort of question.

And he was here to give her the wrong sort of answer, "Why, I was able to pick your soul right out of the current.."

"Pardon?"

Unlike the tempestuous child in front of him, Emet was much better at hiding his emotion. Or at the very least it was quite a bit easier to hide his manic glee under the tiredness of his face.

"That's right, your soul. Plucked it out of the lifestream as one does the pit to a fruit. Your clothes too, though I had to do it separate since the 'Warrior of Darkness' would probably prefer a girlfriend without black leather grafted into her skin."

"I am not her--" Y'shtola shook her head to order the objections she had, "What soul do you speak of? The personal aether that one has at any one time is held together by one's anima, but both should dissolve in the lifestream without much hope of piecing it all together save some incredible special event. The greatest minds of Sharlayan throughout the ages have examined anima and aether alike and have yet to find any essence similar to a 'soul'."

"So your choices are either, that, I am an immensely powerful being that can piece together the shredded aether that makes you up from the lifestream, a feat that not even the Elementals of the Source can do properly, or that there is a soul and it is somehow something even your greatest minds have yet to uncover."

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Emet Selch shrugged theatrically, "I am simply an expert at discerning essences from one another. As some would struggle to differentiate the palest difference between colors and others would not, the many hues of aether that exist can be discerned from one another if one has the eye for it."

Y'shtola pondered for a second, "So you mean to say it could be a bit of both."

"Perhaps."

"You've not answered any of my questions."

"How very astute." Some of the sundered were much more interested to play with than others.

Y'shtola sighed, "I suppose I came for something else."

"And what would that be?"

"I meant to thank you."

"For what? Saving you from your own mistakes? 'Twas a pittance of an act. I would sooner be thanked for stepping over an insect."

But inwardly, Emet wondered what points he scored with Azem for saving his, her, beloved.