#and a haphazard attempt to write for an npc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marjiandco · 2 years

Text

12. Miss the boat

Time/Place: Stormblood. Zenos laments his small cage when he runs into the Warrior of light. Written from Zenos POV

TW: Thoughts of suicide, mentions of abuse, Blood, Violence, choking

Word Count: 1522

Everything was so...dull.

The metal of Garlean soldiers stood rigid in salute, reeds in a grey water. Not quite alive, but not quite rotten. Magitek ground in the back as the automatons atop moved them around. They had to keep the gears warm, ready for the assault on the savages encampment.

As the crown prince, he’s followed his father’s orders to the letter. Learn techniques of the battlefield, learn to be a solider. Act as Viceroy, prepare conquered nations for homogenization. Little freedom from the collar that tightens at his every thought. It weighed heavy on him, and he planned to slough it off, head and all, soon after this mundane battle.

He’s already given his Viceroy title to an ex-doman, and trained an Ala Mhigan to cultivate her hate. They would wield his shackles nicely once he’s left. Even the irritable little one, who dogged his steps and licked at his heels, would make for the next strategist. His father will of course look at him in disappointment when he’s realized his son’s departure. An ordinary, useless emotion glued to the man’s face at each meeting would certainly not change after death.

Zenos turned his helmet up and counted the seconds as he watched the clouds. Barely any movement.

“Move in.” He said hollowly.

The fodder headed down a bath to rocky outcrop, where the mages removed the glamour, and he listened to the sounds of battle. The sounds used to thrill him; the hunt, the capture of prey and the glorious balance of life and death. To walk that knifes edge, unsure which way it would tilt.

He used to feel that rush on the hunts his father would allow him on. As a teen he would chase after predators larger than the last, more dangerous. Those that would corner him with little else but a blunt dagger and he would come out covered in blood not his own. He would bathe in those moments, the few times he could feel life course through him, hot and energetic.

The days were over. It was unbecoming as his days have grown long and his responsibilities kept him docile. Immobile. Sure they gave his caged life enrichment in these little spats with the other nations, but it was never more deadly than the possibility of wasting more time than not.

“Viceroy we need you down here.” Fordola said bluntly in his ear.

He sighed, and moved into the fray.

Fires burned, their makeshift tents blackened with smoke. Bodies, mostly the Ala Mhigans, littered the ground. It seemed things were going as planned. Irritation colored his gait until he spotted the girl fighting against a small group.

Eorzeans. Embers of interest hummed in his stomach. So the rumors were true. If the Eorzeans were here, the possibility of it’s champion not far behind. Perhaps one more sport before the inevitable. Something to linger on his tongue before the taste of steel.

Yet they proved little more savage than your average soldier. He knocked them aside with ease. As he grumbled to himself, a lalafellin man stood in his away, an arrow pointed at Zenos’ heart.

“I am the Warrior of Light, and you will not harm them anymore.” He said.

His voice was high, and he could see the bow shake in the man’s hands. Sweat dripped down his brow, creating a sheen over an overly freckled face. Zenos wasn’t sure who this man thought he’d fool; did he simply believe that the Crowned prince of an enemy nation wouldn’t know of the Eikon slayer?

And yet.

And yet someone so frightened would stand in a Garlean’s wake unless he’s buying time. The champion might make an appearance after all, and Zenos would still get his hunt. So, he indulged the creature.

A languid swing of the sword, a tightening grip to catch arrows before they could hit his armor, and he chased the lalafell in their makeshift arena. He couldn’t dodge even the simplest of attacks, and Zenos slowed his movements to accommodate, annoyance in having to wait for so long.

He would let the lalafell crawl away before giving him a new cut, and would hit the surrounding area to let the beast live. Just long enough, he could wait, but his patience wasn’t a bottomless well. He caught the man on his back and pressed a boot down on his stomach. There’s no use pretending at this point, he couldn’t fake letting the lalafell out of his grasp anymore than he wanted to continue this little charade.

He pointed his sword above the man’s stomach, and he jealously watched the veins in his neck pump life through his body. How he wished he could feel that same warmth, the same need to continue this piteous life.

“Fuck off of him.” A guttural shout exploded behind him, and Zenos turned at the heel to face who called to him.

The lalafell grunted beneath him, as he took a step backwards to avoid a mage’s wind attack. No, it was a summon’s attack, and it reared back for another, and another. A twist at the waist, and a cut of his sword was enough to rebuff the magicks, but it wasn’t the casters goal. With his focus on the egi wrapped in smoke, the lalafell was dragged away from him.

He laughed to himself, and bent at the knees. A charged cut sliced the egi in twain, and he followed the sounds of a dragging body. There. He used his own learned magick to drive his sword into the ground and let the aether burst beneath rock.

The lalafell’s would be savior yelled out, and he leapt towards it. A kick connected with flesh and bone, and the savior was thrown yalms back.

“Enough of this.” He whipped his sword overhead, and the smoke spread apart, enough that he could see a miqo’te woman panting as she stood back to her feet. She bared her teeth at him, but it was a mechanical move.

Her eyes were as dull as him. Empty as it hid her away behind her own cage he’s sure the savages have placed her in. She stood in a default position, her grimoire in hand, eyes barely registering her opponent as her mind wanders elsewhere. Surely he could get her attention. He could test her, from one caged beast to another.

She attacked first. She cycled through different summons in an attempt to test his weaknesses, and he in turn used some of his more disused attacks. His blade caught against her skin, and a thin wave of blood arched from her forearm along his blade.

A growl escaped from her, and her eyes glowed blue. He waited for her spell to work through, and aether crackled around him as a great blue dragons fire enveloped him. Inside he marveled at the burst of color. Something not grey, or black, or dark red. It was beautiful and hot. It burned the metal surrounding his body, but he basked in the pain. It suddenly dropped him into the present, and burned the embers inside of him.

When the attack ceased, she was smiling, and he saw it in her. Life, and present attention. As soon as she saw he was safe, he watched that light start to disappear. He panicked, and rushed forward to grab her by the collar and force her too look directly at him. He can’t lose it, not this fast, not when he just saw it in someone else.

She struggled against him grip, her nails scratched into his armor as she kicked at his stomach. He couldn’t feel it as without her weapon there was little power behind her hits. He pulled her close, and waited.

There. She was seeing him, she was standing on that knifes edge with him, wondering which way it’ll twist. She had that sparkle in her eyes as she searched for meaning in his movements. One purple, one red. Blood started to trickle down her temple and onto his glove, and he shivered at its warmth. Even now, as he squeezed her neck and watched her choke she would not remove her attention off of him.

“Marji!”

The present look was gone. He could almost see the shackles wrap around her again and pull her towards the voice. Anger roiled in his stomach as a elezen girl rushed forward, hands in little fists as she pulled on the champions bonds.

He pulled Marji in close enough so they were barely an inch apart.

“You’ve provided some sport little savage. Yet, they’ve dulled your claws. Removed your fangs. If you want them sharpened, to taste blood on your tongue, seek me out.”

He tossed the warrior at the elezen and knocked both of them to the ground. Perhaps it would be enough to cut through the haze of entrapment they’ve placed on her. Perhaps not. Yet even the possibility of meeting a worthy beast again was enough to miss his proclaimed end date. He would wait for her, if only to find out if they truly were of similar circumstance.

#ffxivwrite2022 #marji #zenos #tw suicide #mentions of suicide #stormblood spoilers #Ive been thinking alot about what would make marji in particular a point of fascination #so used ffxivwrite as an excuse to work on it #pardon my edge #and a haphazard attempt to write for an npc

14 notes · View notes