#how dare this challenge make me push through blocks and be consistent with my output

[bakuzen-xiv]

FFxivWrite2024 (Day 7): Morsel

Orion turned the corner towards the Ebony Stalls, avoiding any possible glances of nearby people by hiding behind his cloak. One hand slipped into his pocket to wrap around a piece of paper—a lengthy shopping list for all the delicacies he'd been craving.

It had been a long time since he'd found himself in Gridania, so he decided to jump on the opportunity to stock up on some local delicacies. Bland delicacies, some would argue. Others would leave out the second word entirely. But it was comfort food to him, and he knew how to prepare it in a way that was less offensive to the average palate.

More or less, anyway. Some Scions still weren't sold on his favorite fermented beans from the local Mun-Tuy Cellars.

His mind wandered to the subterranean network beyond the Cellars, down to the underground city that had gone largely lost to history. The city of Gelmorra. The underground city was hidden far underground, its infrastructure turned to ruins by centuries of merciless decay. And despite it all, it still connected to the living world through these cellars that had survived the test of time.

It was a connection he cherished, small as it was. Being a Duskwight, he was certain he shared an origin with Gelmorra's inhabitants from centuries past. It was all he knew about his origins—more he knew about his mother or father or even his place of birth.

There as a void where he yearned to see faces and names and memories, so if bland beans was the closest he could get to knowing his bloodline, he would take it.

Orion pulled his mask up and his hood down. Shrouded in dark garments, it was hard to make out any of his defining features. He wouldn’t be able to fool those who truly knew him. His gait, the way he swung his hands, the angle of his ears poking against the fabric of the cloak hiding him from head to toe–they were all undeniably him. But the people here did not know him as his friends did, so he weaved his way through the crowd with ease.

On a quiet day, he would be happy to visit the market as himself. He enjoyed talking to people, and their enthusiasm for his heroism was mostly tolerable. But today was not a quiet day, and he would not let himself be delayed by a gathering crowd.

Eyes still followed him, as was expected in such a get-up. Some vendors tracked his movement with a guarded tension, hands resting on their wares. It was a nauseating reminder of what could’ve been had Hydaelyn not chosen him. He’d be just another Duskwight, unable to enjoy Gridania’s atmosphere without the accusing glares of other locals.

It wasn’t a worrying fear anymore, not here and not now at least. If their suspicion of him ever escalated, he could always throw off his cloak and surprise them with the familiar face of the Hero of Eorzea, Savior of the Star.

Their eyes would widen in surprise right away. They’d apologise for their embarrassing conduct. Perhaps a few of them would not recognize him or his name, and someone would whisper to them that he may be a Duskwight, but he was one of the good ones.

The Hero of Eorzea, Savior of the Star would however stay anonymous, for the sake of his peace, and he turned his attention to the food stall in front of him. He nodded a quick greeting to the vendor before glancing around at the various Mun-Tuy products showcased on its shelves. That’s what he came all this way for, he thought, his mouth watering while he imagined all the dishes he could make with them.

“—Orion?”

He nearly whipped his head around, but instead he forced himself to make strong eye contact with a jar of beans.

“Oh, go on! I could do with a morsel of gossip–you’ve got to spill the beans for me!” 

“I swear, ran straight into him at the Bobbing Cork! He couldn’t resist me, not after I showed him my secret technique he couldn’t–”

Orion’s eyes widened. The last time he visited that inn was to help the damn Ixal build dirigibles, and that certainly didn’t include any lady’s secret techniques.

He realized with a start that the shopkeeper was staring right at him, from an angle that showed a bit more of his face than he was comfortable with. He glanced back, hoping it would be less suspicious than appearing to be shocked at the sight of Mun-Tuy products, but this only attracted more of his interest.

“Hey,” the man began carefully, yet a little too loudly for Orion’s comfort. “Aren’t you…”

Orion coughed loudly, more occupied with protecting his identity than his pride right now.

“I’ll take these beans!” he yelled, before the vendor could say anything else. With a loud slam, he shoved enough gil on the wooden table to keep the man from continuing his train of thought.

“Would you like–”

“Thank you!” He grabbed the beans and bolted.

That was yet another part of being a hero he still hadn’t gotten used to. Perhaps it would still take a while before he could return to those peaceful days he longed for.