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xiakha · 2 months ago

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FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt #9 - Lend an Ear

Outside of Many Fires, Xiao fished on the Dewspun Bank. Fishing wasn’t in particular a necessity in her life as it had been, so she generally used it to keep her mind off things. But sometimes her mind needed to go off on things.

“We ought to talk with him,” said a voice, smoother than hers. “Am I not sworn to the Third Promise? No sense in it.” “We both know Wuk Lamat is incapable of striking down her brothers, her own family. She is softer than you were when you first set out,” the voice spat, and Xiao almost expected there to be a splash, “We don’t have the luxury of years of hardship if we are to complete our task.” Xiao coolly eyed her reflection in the moonlight. The swift waters distorted the image, but not the voice, “Been quiet for a while, what’s the occasion?” Esteem cocked her head, “You’ve not given me reason to speak out since we left Zenos at the end of all things, and I think we’re both happier when you can ignore my presence.” Xiao didn’t say anything. “...Holding your tongue does naught when I reside within your thoughts.” So she grumbled instead, “Don’t like the First Promise.” “I’m well aware, but think on it. Whence does this distaste stem?” “Big bastard.” “Ha! Wrong on both counts. He is perhaps as legitimate as could possibly be, possibly more legitimate than either other Promise if one wished to be miserably exacting. Nay, the issue lies in the fact that he is as legitimate as you.”

Xiao felt a tug on her line and reeled back in. But the fish got away. “You know you didn’t feel a tug on the line. You’re just looking for excuses to avoid thinking about this.” Was her reflection now crossing her arms? “Fine. Aye, he’s like me. Of the Promises, He’s the one that I most see myself in.” Esteem seemed pleased, “Good. Why deny it?” “...��Cause he’s a big bastard.” There was a sigh that seemed to emanate from the water, “They will come into conflict sooner or later, they must. That is how this Rite works. Inevitably, before we reach the end, one of these feats will leave at least one of the claimants without a keystone, but none will readily renounce their claim to support another, especially as we can surmise these feats are, more or less, demanding but not impossible. Any claimant that loses out on a keystone will likely feel cheated. Therefore, it is inevitable that blows will be exchanged. And again, you know as well as I that our claimant is the least likely to win in any martial encounter. Not because she lacks the prowess, but because her heart bleeds too readily.” “She could beat Bakool Ja Ja.” Esteem paused, as if to think this over, “...Yes, but we both know the Blessed Siblings are unlikely to fight fair. And that is entirely besides the point. Zoraal Ja is the one to defeat.” “...Like the chances against Koana then?” Her reflection shared a look with her, “When was the last time you thought Thancred or Urianger a threat?” Xiao smirked despite herself, and then sighed. “All right. Next time there’s a chance, I talk to the big blue bastard.” Her reflection didn’t respond. Instead it looked quite content fishing.

***

“The Skyruin lies dead, and still I have yet to prove myself the miracle…” Xiao looked at her reflection in the large and lifeless glassy eye of Valigarmanda. It tilted its head in Zoraal Ja’s direction. She tried to look away, but she knew she couldn’t, so she instead rolled her eyes. Her reflection shook its head and then tilted it again. She groaned. “Zoraal Ja, a moment.” The Resilient Son looked at Xiao in confusion, his face a look of distraction, weakness even. He then shook his head and forced all emotion from his features, settling back into his general look of superiority and contempt, “Xiao Longbao, your martial prowess is indeed as they have claimed. Sareel Ja was correct, I could have easily left this tural vidraal to my siblings and their retinues, pressing my advantage. What such an unmatched warrior is doing in my sister’s employ, I do not know, but I shall grant you this moment.” Xiao closed her eyes, mostly to avoid shooting daggers at Zoraal Ja. She breathed deep and then slapped a look of determined resolve on her face, “Don’t sell yerself short, would be hard pressed to fight the likes of you.” Zoraal Ja’s eyes flickered to and fro for a moment, before they focused back on Xiao, “Indeed. Though ultimately, I believe your years of experience would give you the edge.” Did he just imagine the entire fight? And years of experience? What was he trying to imply? Was he trying to piss her off?

Xiao pressed on, the corners of her smile tightening, “...Mayhap. Look, pledged as I may be to Wuk Lamat, ‘twould be a disservice to Tural to withhold advice or counsel to any of the Promises, especially since any one of ye may soon be Dawnservant.” “Oh? And where does this sudden generosity stem? Are you looking to commit sabotage? Afraid that my sister will be left behind?” “Nay, ‘tis naught of the sort, ‘tis much more selfish a motivation, in truth.” “...Pray tell.” “Aye,” Xiao swallowed, “Recognize yer path, the duty and expectations ye feel bound to.” Zoraal Ja opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. “What could an adventurer and a mercenary from across the seas know of the duties and expectations placed upon the Resilient Son?” He said, looking away. “It ain’t anything as grand as Dawnservant, but I was chosen to rule my clans, become the next Matriarch.” Zoraal Ja scoffed, “And what does ruling over a few motley clans of Hhetsarro have in common with ruling over all of Tural?” Xiao’s smile bared more teeth, “‘Tis not the actual ruling. ‘Tis the expectation to rule. ‘Tis living yer life in the shadow of a parent and the expectation of matching or accomplishing more than the parent, despite yer lack of experience.” It was like he was doing everything he could to make her regret having talked with him in the first place. “...Have you not?” “Pardon?” “Am I to believe that Xiao Longbao, known even in Tural as the Champion of Eorzea, Liberator of Nations, Savior of the Star, and Warrior of Light did not surpass the works and deeds of her parent?” Most of the celebration had died down by now, and everyone was looking the way of Xiao and Zoraal Ja.

“...’Tis only ‘cause I refused, y’understand? ‘Tis only ‘cause ‘twas too much for me. Left my duties, my home, everything.” If he was so aware of her comings and goings, why did he refer to her as a mere adventurer and mercenary just moments before? “So I am to take advice from a deserter of kin? What, will you tell me to abandon my claim so someone as weak as my sister could rule in my stead?” Xiao was ready to draw her weapon, but resisted. The others had picked up on the tense atmosphere their otherwise quiet conversation had. “‘M simply offering to listen, if you need someone to talk to. Yer role and your duties are a lot, and I understand better than most would.” Zoraal Ja looked directly at Xiao. A mixture of resentment, disdain, and a momentary flash of despair crossed his face. “I would sooner talk with my reflection,” he said, “But if I am ever so deep in the cups that I have need of a lap to spew into, I will duly consider yours.” Zoraal Ja then turned to leave, deeming the conversation over.

Xiao looked more winded than she did immediately after fighting Valigarmanda. She sank to the ground, hugged her shins and buried her face in her knees. A high pitched sound emanated from her face. “Sure.” She then said to her knees, “That’s the least I can offer.”

***

"Zoraal Ja. As of this moment, you are no longer a claimant. I disqualify you from the rite of succession. Begone from my sight.” Zereel Ja had just enough control in his expression to avoid smiling. And it was such that Zoraal Ja slunk away. But before he did, he paused before Xiao. He did not turn his head to look at her. He did not open his mouth to say anything. He simply berated himself silently for giving into such weakness as to even consider Xiao’s offer, and kept moving. There was no reflection this time for Xiao to look upon. Even if there were, she doubted it would have any wisdom or snark. Xiao finally understood what she saw in Zoraal Ja. It wasn’t a reflection, it was a foil, an inverse. Despite their matched strength in arms and the similarity in their circumstances, they were diametrically opposed in all ways that mattered. Their trajectories were symmetrically divergent. She could never be so headstrong as to go through and become the next Matriarch, no matter how doomed by duty and expectation she felt. Then, and maybe even now, she would crack under pressure, under the overwhelming feelings of isolation. And Zoraal Ja could never allow himself to be free and wander as an adventurer. He could never reach out for help and learn to rely on the strength of others. And so there were no words to be said or offers to be accepted. There could only be the fundamental clash of worldviews to come.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #ffxiv #word vomit #story #xiao longbao #zoraal ja #also guest starring esteem/fray

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xiakha · 2 months ago

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FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt #3 - Tempest

Thunder rolled over the House of the Fierce.

Were she not shinobi, it would be unlikely Yugiri’s exit would have been as dramatic as it was. There was a moment of anguish, and she actually raised her voice to Gosetsu, and then nothing, not even an afterimage.

Were it not for her own shinobi training, Xiao would likely have missed the direction Yugiri vanished to, as Lyse and Alisaie did. She grit her teeth.

She turned back to Gosetsu, who purposefully looked away from where he figured Yugiri had slunk off too. His kindly smile was even more of a poor mask for pain than it usually was as his expression turned stony, “...It is for her to think on our master’s words and recognize the futility of her course. Or at least, those are my thoughts upon the matter.”

Gosetsu’s eyes flitted over to meet Xiao’s, her expression had hardened as well, but in a different way, for different reasons, “You may think differently. Should you be so determined to give chase, I will not bar your path.”

Xiao nodded and casually palmed the paired knives at her hips.

“Zenos will fall, but it will not be to a desperate knife in the dark. We will need proper planning and ample preparation. She has neither.”

Xiao also quietly made her leave as Lyse and Alisaie started shouting at anyone that would listen.

The rain started sporadically enough that they masked Xiao’s approach upon Yugiri’s position. If she was surprised that her fellow shinobi dropped down beside her, she did not show it.

“Did Gosetsu send you to stop me?”

“Would sendin’ me t’ stop ye actually stop ye?”

“I am not in the mood for riddles.”

“Wasn’t the plan, no.”

“...Then you came of your own free will?”

Yugiri sighed, “I should be surprised if you agreed with my chosen course, no one else did. But it’s not as fanciful as it seems.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Scant moments ago, I received the crown prince’s itinerary from one of our spies in the castle. ‘Twould seem that Zenos has no desire to remain in Doma any longer than necessary. His impatience is to our advantage. He arrived at the castle without warning and announced that he wished to inspect the Moon Gates this very eve. The whole castle is in a state of upheaval, but even with Yotsuyu’s pleading, he will not be delayed. He declined a full escort, only traveling with a scant honor guard.”

The shinobi pulled at the front of Xiao’s shozoku, “The kami could not have blessed us with more auspicious circumstances. I will kill him, Xiao. I will.”

Xiao put a hand on Yugiri’s, her grip iron, “Rather not come t’ blows wit’ ye, but the first knife t’ Zenos’s throat’ll be mine.”

Yugiri’s eyes widened even as Xiao’s narrowed, “The first strike on Zenos proper is yours to take, but are you… are you sure?” She nearly faltered, perhaps seeing her own stubborn foolishness reflected in Xiao, but then shook her head and steeled her resolve, “Thank you. Thank you. I… I cannot well express what this means to me.” She released her grip on Xiao’s clothing and gestured, “We have much to discuss, but we can do so on the way. We shall intercept the party at Yuzuka Manor. Let us be off!”

If anyone saw two shadows flit away, surely it was simply a trick of the lightning.

Zenos was bored.

Oh so bored. He would have fallen asleep on his feet were he not trying to get all of this over with as quickly as possible. He could feel the ennui eating at his soul. It sat upon his chest, and perhaps, were it just a little bit more real, he would have simply stopped struggling against it so that it could force the breath from his body for good. Alas, he could not simply will himself to die of suffocation to end his suffering. He wondered if staring up into the storm would avail him, perhaps he could drown if he allowed enough rain to drip down his throat. Ah, were it not for his helmet.

The nervous imbecile leading the way was prattling on like he were some tour guide for some of the more slack-jawed Yaes or Wirs Galvus. His words had all the effect on Zenos that they would have on a particularly sharp and deadly blade. Instead, Zenos indulged in his internal monologue. The ruins around him were no more cleaned up now than they had been almost five years prior, when he had been tasked with putting down the insurrection. Less a province than a graveyard, the putrid husk of this broken nation was utterly devoid of proper sport.

He sighed out loud, much to the disconcertment of the Pilius Prior. Varis of course demanded that his son fulfill his duties as heir apparent to the Imperial Throne. So here Zenos was, in fallow fields that he had labored so long to sow seeds of hatred and fear. Where was the harvest? Where were the savage beasts baying for blood?

There was unusual movement behind him, but he thought little of it, perhaps the fools behind him slipped up in the rain. Surely it were anything, it would be little more than hollow-eyed prey striking from the dark.

In one fluid motion he drew his blade and parried the shinobi’s attack, crossing blades just ilms away from his neck.

A flick of the wrist and the shinobi bounced back, another attack in his blindspot, perhaps the first was just a feint? Another would-be killing blow had it not been for Zenos’s prowess.

The soldiers behind him lay bleeding in the dirt, throats slit and silently eased onto the ground to gurgle to their deaths. The idiot leading the party started screaming, and Yotsuyu started shouting, possibly orders.

Truth be told, he was looking to provoke something by setting out as close to alone as he could. How how he desired to issue an official challenge, to give the Domans a week to plan and then reap the harvest, but that would never be allowed now that he was heir apparent. So this was as close as he could get to tilting his head to offer his neck, bait to see how desperate for his blood Doma was. All of this was just so he could feel something.

He felt nothing. An improvement over the hollowing ennui, but there was no joy in this hunt.

“How weak. Is this the sum of your hate?”

The second shinobi was unmasked, her eyes filled with fury, her teeth grit with determination, but it was far from the look of the beast that he desired to face.

“This is but the beginning! For Lord Kaien! For Doma!”

Kaien’s retainers? Really? And there were only two that let vengeance and rage fester for so long that they would strike at him? Zenos had tempered his expectations, but he was still disappointed by the showing. What did he have to do to get people that could properly hate him, to properly threaten him?

The first shinobi, a Miqo’te with an eyepatch, threw a projectile at Zenos, which he deflected without turning. A misdirection. The projectile exploded into smoke and brilliant light, surely blinding a lesser swordsman, if but for a moment. But Zenos was no lesser swordsman. The follow-up strike still came at him, a blow he let glance off his armor. This one gave him some pause at least, he was unaware there were Keepers of the Moon so far east, and that one would be trained in the arts of the shinobi at that.

There was something about her…

Ignoring his assailants, Zenos looked at Yotsuyu, doing her best to fuse her back to the Manor’s outer wall, her umbrella forgotten, her kimono soaked, “Mayhap I shall test this new blade of yours. Let us hope it is to my liking, lest your misfortunes compound.”

The two attacked again, the Au Ra leapt while the Miqo’te ducked, attempting to hit different gaps in his armor, attempting to divide his attention. If he had given either attack a bit more attention the other would be in his blindspot. Clever, very technical. But one was easily parried and the other effortlessly dodged.

He sheathed his kanata and stepped back to address both of his would-be foes, “Then again, I am loath to expend such effort on the unworthy. Come— earn the honor.”

The clash of steel on steel was nearly drowned out by the pummel of the rain and the howl of the wind.

Yotsuyu had long fallen silent in horror, she had no illusions about the quality of her guard, but that the two shinobi would drop them almost as an afterthought before refocusing their attentions on Zenos… Well it was more the reason to hide within the walls of the castle.

But Lord Zenos was hardly fazed, he simply strode through the flurry of expert bladework and ninjutsu, not to mention the driving rain and whipping winds, as if it were a well choreographed dance.

And perhaps in part it was. Though Yotsuyu was no warrior, she had been forced to learn how to dance, and she could at least parse some of the steps. The shinobi were at two disadvantages. First, Zenos’s size and reach far surpassed that of either relatively diminutive figure. Several of the techniques that they were able to use on the soldiers would find no purchase or were simply impossible on as tall and as armored a figure as the Garlean. Second, they had to coordinate to avoid hitting one another, the Au Ra more than the Miqo’te, and when one had an opportune angle on Zenos, often it meant that the other had to pull back. Were but one of the two disadvantages present, perhaps the crown prince would be lifeless on the ground, but both together was enough to consistently give him an edge over his opponents.

And then, when Zenos went on the offensive, the two broke off the engagement completely. Neither could withstand the brunt of Zenos’s attacks directly in their lightly armored states. If he were even a bit threatened, it was child’s play for Zenos to create the breathing room he needed and reset the fight. Yotsuyu wondered what his expression was under the grimace of his helmet. Was he entertained, or was this just busy work?

Then, through one of Zenos’s attacks, the Miqo’te landed a blow even as she leapt backwards. One of her knives snapped, its blade wedged into Zenos’s side. Whether it actually wounded the crown prince or just caught in his armor, it was difficult to tell, and certainly Zenos did not react as if he had been stabbed. Yotsuyu wasn’t sure if Zenos would react to being stabbed, let alone how.

“Well done, beast. You have earned the right to look upon Ame-no-Habakiri.”

Zenos drew the katana with a burst of crimson. The concussive force pushed back the elements, temporarily creating a sphere of violent calm around the Garlean with no rain, no wind, only death. It knocked both shinobi flying, and had Yotsuyu not braced herself against the wall, she too would have been bowled over, even at this distance.

Yotsuyu heard herself exclaim hoarsely in horror, “What… what is this…? Kami forfend…”

Both shinobi struggled to rise again, the Au Ra outright collapsing.

But the Miqo’te did something Yotsuyu had never seen before. Even as she struggled to stay standing, the violet Miqo’te roared bestially and tore off her armor. An axe manifested out of the aether itself into her outstretched hand, and her body was sheathed in an orange-red aura of deadly intent. For all the toying that Zenos had done, for all of the violence inflicted and near death exchanges, this was different. The Miqo’te’s eyes burned red, even the one underneath her eyepatch. This was unbridled rage, with nothing held back for self preservation.

Zenos landed a wicked blow squarely upon the Miqo’te, powerful enough to splinter one of the trees behind her. And yet she kept coming, landing solid hits on Zenos as well, forceful enough to push Zenos back, to lift him ilms off the ground as he parried.

But it was far from just animalistic desperation, Yotsuyu could see how the Miqo’te attempted to drive the snapped blade further into Zenos’s armor with her attacks. For the first time in the entire encounter, Zenos was actually on the backfoot. He leapt back, sheathed that dread blade once more, and flash-stepped forward for another blast of Concentrativity. The Miqo’te was once more knocked flying, but aetheric chains lashed her to Zenos. Even as she slammed into the ground, she remained standing. She pulled herself to Zenos with that chain, her back muscles heaving, and drove her axe into the gap between Zenos’s oversized pauldron and his helmet.

On anyone else, it would have easily been a killing blow. On anyone else, it might have outright beheaded, if not rent in two.

But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Zenos.

As the Miqo’te collapsed, Zenos chucked with recollection. “Ahhh… I remember you. Ala Mhigo. The champion of the savages. Did I strike down your lover, now that I recall?”

He casually removed the axe and rolled his neck as if he had merely developed a crick, “Oh… how right I was to spare your life. How delightfully bestial.”

He sheathed Ame-no-Habakiri and removed his helmet. Yotsuyu gasped quietly in horror as the crown prince contorted his lips into an expression she had never seen before on his face.

He smiled.

Zenos kneeled down and lifted the Miqo’te’s body by the nape, forcing her to meet eyes, “Hear me, hero. Endure. Survive. Live. For the rush of blood, for the time between the seconds— live. For the sole pleasure left to me in this empty, ephemeral world— I need you to live!”

He then set the Miqo’te back down into the mud.

Zenos looked up to the skies, the storm was passing. His heart, he could feel his heart pounding, his breathing actually struggled to keep up. What was this electricity that seemed to crackle through his veins? And his body, his body ached. He was battered, possibly bruised, possibly bleeding from his side. For a moment, for a fleeting, but very real moment, he thought the Miqo’te might kill him. So much he had read about fearing for one’s life, the brilliant sharpness in vision that set in when genuinely struggling against equals, when genuinely fighting to the death. Perhaps this was actually an opponent to overcome, to strive to defeat. He was giddy. He was swimming in emotions that he had hardly felt before. And this mere taste was just a sampling, a brew that had not finished refinement, more time would be necessary, more honing.

Oh how he longed for another taste! To drink from the lifeblood of his new, most delectable foe! But he had to wait. He had to deny himself until the right moment.

Zenos rose and turned to leave. He did still have a Moon Gate or two to inspect. He ignored the arrow that landed at his feet, and the shouting of someone or other behind him. He heard Yotsuyu coughing and shouting somewhere in the distance but running after him.

None of it mattered. He finally had something to look forward to.

Back at Namai, Yugiri and Xiao were carefully cleaned and stitched up before being unceremoniously but gently dumped into the baths. Each was still alive and nursing no permanent injuries because the other was there, but neither would have stayed so long in the fight were it not for the other.

In brighter news, their recklessness had rallied the people of Namai, and though they did not so much charge into the storm as warily approach it, they covered the retreat as Imperial reinforcements came sniffing around as the moon broke through the departing clouds.

Most importantly, it was proof indeed that Zenos was no invincible, indomitable foe. His armor was not impregnable. His offense was not insurmountable. No matter how slim, the Domans had a chance. None perhaps had the same ferocity that Xiao unleashed, but if they all shared a little of that ferocity, that beast within, perhaps Doman liberation was possible.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #ffxiv #wordvomit #story #xiao longbao #yugiri mistwalker #zenos yae galvus #the time between the seconds

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