FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 5 - Barbarous

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 5 - Barbarous

Spoilers for Endwalker MSQ, circa level 82-83.

Xander knew Lucia would never exaggerate about the coldness of Garlemald, yet he found himself surprised by the sheer frost both consuming the environs and in the demeanors of the people. He knew any extension of humanitarian efforts was like to be met with some resistance- one did not simply overcome a lifetime's worth of prejudice and propaganda in mere moments- but the fact that many would sooner die from spite than accept necessary aid... It sat ill on his stomach, gnawing at the edges of his fraying temper.

They didn't have to be here, doing this. Hells, most of Eorzea and the Far East would much rather this army was an invasion force come to mete out some justice for all the lives the Garleans shattered over the past several decades. The fact that Fandaniel's forces and the massive spire of horrors in which they- and doubtless, the resurrected Crown Prince Zenos yae Galvus- loomed over their every action only spurred that tiny voice of bitterness that they were wasting time trying to help the oppressors to speak ever louder.

A voice that Xander forced back down inside, again and again. He'd made this mistake with the reticence and seeming ingratitude shown by the people of Ala Mhigo when he'd arrived there a year prior and gotten roundly condemned for his words and behavior. For his inability to see why they wouldn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon for those who would only make their immediate lives worse.

To expect people already writhing on the ground to lick his boots for the privilege of being saved was barbarous behavior, ill-becoming of a hero. Ill-becoming of anyone.

And so, he pushed that little voice, the one now actively roaring that all of this humanitarian effort was wasted on these intransigent bastards, back down into the depths where it belonged as he wandered with Alphinaud and Alisaie through the military installation known as Tertium.

Rage flared and flickered in his veins as his eyes drifted down to the magitek collars around Alphinaud and Alisaie's necks. The voice spoke up once more. Waste of time. Foolishness. They need to be PUNISHED for their barbaric behavior.

He took a deep shuddering breath to calm himself, his frustration coiling in front of him in frozen mist. We're supposed to be taking stock of the situation here. And it's far better that I came here with the twins than anyone else. If M'hana or, gods forbid, Celeste were here with them when those collars went on...

A shudder not prompted by the cold ran through Xander's body as he recalled the reports he heard from Ser Aymeric about Celeste's rampage through the Tribunal shortly after their arrival into Ishgard. There had been a hostage situation then, and she'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't give a damn about repercussions or trauma experienced by the hostage if it meant the hostage-takers were slain to a man. Such behavior then nearly cost them their temporary sanctuary. Such behavior now would forever scuttle any attempt at diplomacy they could have with the remains of Garlemald.

And so, though he felt deep in his core that it was a waste of time and resources both, though he longed to his soul to slaughter the camp to a man for daring to endanger those he loved like his own siblings, he forced those barbarous impulses down, down, down to focus on the mission at hand.

The first soldier he approached rested near some barrels of provisions. When he addressed her, she searched his face for several long moments of confusion before her eyes widened in recognition and an emotion he hadn't expected- terror.

"It's you! Xander Kinneman! My name is Octavia. I- I served under Lord Gaius in the XIVth Legion. I was there on the night the Praetorium fell..."

Octavia shook before him with something akin to white-hot rage and conviction as she continued, "You and your adventurers... you killed them. My comrades, my friends... Swept them aside in their dozens like they were nothing to you."

Xander blinked in stunned shock. He'd still been in the form of a Hyur back then. That this woman could possibly recognize him after so long, and in a different body besides... "How did you recognize me, when I-?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It's your eyes. Those damnable dead eyes. We expected celebration at our fall. We expected sadism or delight or duty. But you... you-! There was nothing in your eyes. Nothing but boredom and calculations. And yet you and your savage ilk call us the barbarous ones while the vaunted, worshipped Champion of Eorzea weighs lives like stones in a bloody abacus!"

She broke off her rant with a manic laugh half-interrupted by coughing. "And maybe in the end, I'm nothing to you too. Just another faceless enemy to be cut down." Righteous fury blazed in her eyes as she glared up at him. "But it won't be long until our countrymen return. Until you get what you deserve. Mark my words."

Xander staggered back as though struck while the soldier returned to her duties, pointedly ignoring his presence. The implied threat registered to his conscious mind, but only barely above the yawning maw of dread opening in the depths of his stomach.

He had often considered the thought idly in sleepless nights where self-loathing spoke louder than good sense, but now he had confirmation: To the Garleans, he was the unstoppable juggernaut that saw naught in the lives dashed against him that Zenos was for Rhalgr's Reach.

Well did he remember that terror, that despair, of fighting to the brink and his best efforts only being enough to mildly entertain that monster in the shape of a man. And to the Garleans, in his calculating nature and unstoppable might, he was no better.

No better.

"Farewell, my first friend. My enemy."

...They should never have come to this frozen, forsaken place. He should never have come here.

FFXIV Writes Day 4 - "Off the Hook"

End of ARR spoilers, messy friendship dynamics, and relational drama.

Finding himself at the epicenter of a dwindling circle of friends was, unfortunately, not a new experience for Xander. He'd been through it many times before, especially before the Calamity, before he had the courage to live as his true self. The names and faces of those old friends had faded into the fog of memory, but the hurt their abandonment and betrayal seared into his heart remained. Remained and flared as he watched Iori stalk off in the middle of the night, proclaiming that he would focus on the true threats the star was facing- the primals- rather than allow himself to become distracted by petty geopolitical maneuvering.

Xander couldn't help but take offense at the auri man's description of the Crystal Braves. Yes, the organization was in its infancy and needed a lot of refining, but the idea was born of pure intentions and was not simple, petty politics. It wasn't, Alphinaud had grander ambitions than that.

Celeste's abrupt departure just after the conclusion of NOAH's investigation into the Crystal Tower hurt even more. When Iori left, Xander had been expecting it- he'd never seen eye-to-eye with the man. But Celeste, his ally, his confidante...

All the elezen left behind was a note.

"I think it's best if I go my own way for a while. Be able to help more people that way. Sorry. -C"

No direct words of confrontation, no litany of reasons why she left. Just an apology and silence. Now, M'hana was the only one left at his side as things in the wider world kept worsening. Rumors of dragons swarming the skies above Ishgard filtered to the Scions, prompting action.

Yet, they still had moments to breathe, moments of levity. Which is why, within the crystalline wastelands Mor Dhona had become, he and his miqo'te companion had set up camp beneath the stars.

After assisting the locals with some rampaging hippogryphs, Xander wandered back towards their campsite with weary step and heavy breath. The only thing that gave him some pause was the familiar sunny chattering with which M'hana filled the air. That she was talking to someone via linkpearl was obvious, but who...?

"...Oh come on, he's really not that bad."

Xander lurched behind a convenient crystal to keep himself out of sight, his heart dropping in an icy pit to the depths of his stomach. He didn't want to assume, and yet he couldn't help the inescapable suspicion coiling around his gut that she was talking about him behind his back.

A suspicion confirmed moments later when M'hana continued, oblivious to her eavesdropper, "No, seriously, Xan is fine. I get why ye left Elly, I really do, I know he was sort of shoving ye out of yer main 'thing' for the group. And- okie, I'll admit yer right, he can be a bit of an arrogant prick just like the Leveilleur boy can, but it's not that bad hanging out with him."

His heart squeezed, an old, familiar dread settling into the marrow of his bones. Dread, followed swiftly by seething resentment. So, Celeste answers HER linkpearl calls but refuses to answer MINE. And M'hana stays in touch with her behind my back, likely PRESUMING that I wasn't like to take it well if I found out...

"..and to be honest, Celeste? I feel kind of bad for the man."

Thump.

"I mean it's pretty obvious he never had many friends growing up."

Thu-thump.

"And it cannae be easy for him right now, handling all this shite on his own. I sort of pity him, y'know?"

Dread and festering resentment seared into rage. Xander's veins and eyes both felt ablaze as that ever-familiar word, 'pity', dropped once more from the lips of someone he trusted more than any other. Pity, sympathy, oh-don't-you-just-feel-so-bad-for-them, look-I'm-a-good-person-for-befriending-them. That's what it was. That's what it always was, never that they valued him, never that they enjoyed his company, oh no. It was always pity and usefulness that drove them.

His fists clenched at his side, his teeth grinding as he tried his damnedest to keep treacherous tears from falling down his cheeks. He stalked over to their shared campfire, M'hana's blithe and cheerful wave only stoking the fires of his fury.

"So. So. You pity me, huh? Is that why you stayed?"

The Sun Seeker's smile shrank by several molars. "...ye were listening in on the linkpearl call, then?"

"Answer the question."

She rubbed the back of her neck, tousling silver hairs at her nape. "I mean, no? Kinda? Not really? Look, it's sort of complicated-"

"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me."

M'hana shrank back as he stepped towards her, brows furrowing in a pained expression as she replied, "I wasn't! I'm not. I- fuck's sake, Xan, I didnae mean it like that-"

And there it was again. The same gormless, spineless excuse. Xander could practically feel the venom in his words as he spat, "Oh, I'm so sorry to have misinterpreted you, then. Pray, tell me then, how exactly did you mean it when you told Celeste you 'felt bad for me'? That you 'pitied me'?"

M'hana worked her mouth wordlessly for several moments before settling into a defeated pout.

"What's the matter? Coeurl got your tongue, Hana? Or are you just scared to admit the truth?"

She sighed, her expression uncharacteristically serious as she rose from her seated position and set about gathering her things.

"Oh. Oh, so you're just going to leave too? Too much of a coward to even bother answering me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, coming from the woman who hid behind the mask of her dead husband for moons and ran away when the world needed her most after the Calamity."

M'hana's body tensed, and Xander felt a lash of regret strike against his heart for those unspeakably cruel words as soon as they left his mouth. He recoiled, expecting for her to lash out in return, to shout with all the fire and fury he deserved for such a comment.

Instead, she kept her voice level. Annoyingly serene. "Look. I tried to give ye more of a chance than the others did, all right? But ye've clearly got some stuff that needs sorting out in yer insides, and ye know what? I'm comin' to realize it en't my job to help ye with it. I'm lettin' meself off the hook. Best of luck with the Braves, Xan. Ye and Alphie are gonna need it."

And before he could say anything else, the aether around her warped to whisk her away, leaving him alone by the campfire.

"...You're 'letting yourself off the hook' from helping me?" Xander murmured, incredulous for a moment before his voice rose to an echoing scream. One that he knew had no chance of ever reaching its intended target. "Well that's FINE! I never needed you! ANY of you! Filthy, parasitical leeches, the lot of you, riding the coattails of the Warrior of Light until he was no longer of use to you! That's just fine, I'm letting all of you off the hook from ever dealing with me again! I don't need you! I don't need ANYONE!"

His last scream echoed for what had to be malms for a moment before he collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands and letting out the sobs he'd been holding in. Bravely as he proclaimed it, with as much cruel certainty as he spoke those words, Xander knew himself for a liar.

He couldn't do this alone. He couldn't. Not when a confrontation with the Father of Dragons laid ahead of him. And so, when he'd finally managed to wrangle his emotions back under control and obtained a fitful night's sleep, he made a quick call in to the Scions for some adventurer backup. He would need the assistance to scale the wreckage of the Agrius. He could only hope that they would prove competent enough to handle the threats before them.

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

Envoy

Timeline: 4.2-4.3, Stormblood MSQ spoilers

A few journal entries from one Maxima quo Priscus, illuminating the course of an ill-fated diplomatic mission.

Journal of Maxima quo Priscus, 18 medihiems, 57 IE

I can scarcely believe how swiftly our fortunes have shifted. The uprisings in the provinces have set the Optimates back immensely, all their rhetoric now ringing hollow in the face of our recent losses. As we have long warned, the policies of brutal repression have inspired backlash, not dutiful submission to their so-called betters. Though the majority opinion is still in favor of expansion and subjugation, reports from the soldiers who have returned from the field are vividly illustrating the need for a more nuanced and considerate approach to treating with other lands and nations.

The Crown Prince himself, Zenos yae Galvus, reached out to us a week or so past, still in recuperation from the injuries he took in Ala Mhigo, and to all accounts the near-death experience has seen his attitude quite altered. The rumors of his actions in the field carry a tone of shocking brutality, but when he met with us he seemed calm and erudite, if notably distant and calculating. After hearing out our priorities and planned initiatives, he agreed to offer his support, and told us he would speak with his father about making overtures of peace to the provinces which have so emphatically declined to remain under direct rule.

Today, the official word arrived that Emperor Varis himself has approved, tentatively, a mission to go to Doma. We will attempt to secure a treaty of mutual non-aggression, under the condition that they forswear the summoning of Eikons and do as much as they can to keep the local beastmen in line, to be sealed with an exchange of prisoners-of-war. Of course, the prince insisted on appointing an ambassador of his own choosing; Asahi sas Brutus, a young man of much ambition and wealth and little actual accomplishment, will be leading the negotiations.

I can’t say I’m deeply impressed with his character, but he seems competent enough to present our case, and we would be fools to reject such immense progress on a technicality of leadership. The young lord will be allowed to advance his career on the coattails of our cause; we have put in too many years of work not to seize this opportunity for everything it’s worth.

12 finis-hiems, 57 IE

By any standard, our mission is going well; and yet I cannot help but find myself ill at ease with our ambassador.

We approached Doma from the air, offering a signal of peace that Asahi assured us the locals would understand, and indeed after some delay they reciprocated our overture and allowed us to land. Lord Hien met us personally, and while he treated us with an entirely justifiable suspicion, he was cordial enough and open to negotiation. We remain his guests while the official treaty’s language is drafted and agreed upon.

Asahi sas Brutus… I knew, of course, that he was the brother of the former viceroy of Doma when we took up this mission. He speaks often of his sister; our spies in Kugane spotted her in the company of one of Lord Hien’s retainers months ago, and it’s understandable that he should be eager to have her returned. …But I can sense no true care or sentiment behind his words, about her or about our mission. I did not survive the long hard years of political repression and upheaval by being unable to interpret the intentions that underly a person’s speech. Asahi speaks well and offers all of the Populares’ arguments smoothly, without fault, and he believes not a word of what he’s saying. Why join us, then? He is not undermining us, save perhaps that our counterparts may espy his insincerity; but even so, there is nothing in his demeanor that they could seize upon to offer a concrete objection to.

It may well be that he witnessed Prince Zenos’ change of heart and decided to tie his political ambitions to whatever the Empire’s heir is currently supporting. That’s probably the most sensible explanation, as he certainly doesn’t lack for ambition generally, and this is a venue that offers one of his ilk little enough competition. And the way he speaks of the Crown Prince generally…well. If he were more pleasant personally, I might offer when we return home to show him the venues where a man of his proclivities can find like-minded company. So it’s unsurprising, on the whole, that he would simply chase at Prince Zenos’ heel without a care for what he needs to say in order to remain there.

Still, I can’t help but feel uneasily as if there’s something more at work. Something I’ve missed seeing. All I can do for now is stay on my guard, to intervene if the negotiations begin to turn.

23 finis-ver, 57 IE

Months, years of postulating and theorizing could not have allowed me to predict this end. This mission was a sham from the beginning, and I’m ashamed to have been so taken in. The Populares have been used, and it is only by the grace and prowess of those we have looked down on that the situation is remotely salvageable.

I should explain, if I can calm myself enough to find the words. Lay out what happened, what must have transpired outside of my view. Crown Prince Zenos devised this plan to undermine our faction, or…perhaps the being possessing him? I’m still not sure I believe it’s possible, but the Eorzeans are quite confident that Zenos yae Galvus died in Ala Mhigo and was buried there. The plan was devised, nonetheless, and brought to the Emperor for approval, which was then duly given. It was always the collapse of the Populares that they sought to support; they had not “seen reason” as I had dared to hope. They selected Asahi and gave him his orders, sent us with a plausible excuse of an overture, and set it all up to fail.

Asahi’s true mission was to trigger a summoning from the Domans or their allies, fueled by boxes of crystals he claimed were brought as trade goods. Such a summoning would of course cause the negotiations to collapse, and we who chose to sue for peace would be shown up as fools for attempting to treat with “savages” who could never give up their gods.

In hindsight, the manipulation is plain as day. I was a fool to think that our views would ever be taken up in good faith; but even saying so, I cannot bring myself to condemn the path that brought me here. It cannot be a crime to have hope, to believe that one’s own countrymen can act like the reasonable and upstanding citizens they claim to be. If only they would stop proving me wrong.

For what it may be worth, though, thanks to the Eorzeans and particularly their champion who was in attendance at the negotiations, we have gained something from this mission after all. Up to this point, they were largely unaware that any faction within the Empire would be willing to negotiate with them at all; even by setting us up to fall so dramatically, our enemies have given us the opportunity to be seen.

And it would seem that they are as interested in peaceful negotiation as we are. One of their own, a young Elezen named Alphinaud, has volunteered to return to Garlemald with us, to bear personal witness and offer an outsider’s perspective. He seems quite politically insightful for a boy so young; I can hardly wait to introduce him to the core membership of the Populares and see what an actual Eorzean’s views can do to shape and reinforce our ideals. Despite the disaster that spurred it, this thin line of contact with the world outside the Empire’s borders may yet be of great benefit to our cause.

every once in a while i learn some wild new piece of information that explains years of behavior and reminds me that i will never truly understand everything about my ridiculous adhd brain

i still miss him. if you even care