FFXIV Writes 2024 - Prompt #2: Horizon

FFXIV Writes 2024 - Prompt #2: Horizon

Spoilers for the end of base-game Endwalker lie below the cut. You have been warned.

As a new dawn broke across the horizon at the edge of creation, Xander found himself face to face with one singular noisome loose end. A man who’d followed him across the depths of space at incomprehensible speeds to come to his aid in the final battle against the Endsinger, all to ensure that naught remained to forestall his precious rematch.

Zenos stood before him, hand extended to offer challenge and ‘singular bliss’. And as much as Xander wished to his very soul that he could take the bastard up on his offer to just leave him behind without fighting him at all, he knew that he couldn’t risk what Zenos might do if denied once more.

He nearly burned the world to cinders just to force me to fight him last time. I shudder to think what he will destroy to earn my ire if I don’t stop him here and now.

Xander closed his eyes, clenching his fist at his side as Zenos’ taunting goad of “Is that not so, adventurer?” echoed in his mind. Even now, even after everything, Zenos insisted that they were one and the same. Two souls driven by the thrill of combat, the mortal peril of dancing on the edge of life and death.

And maybe he was. Once upon a time. He’d willingly gone to the Bloodsands for a reason. Maybe that was still in him.

But Zenos didn’t need to hear that. Never. Not from him.

Part of Xander burned with the desire to wreak bloody vengeance upon this foul demon that had haunted his thoughts for far too long now. To make him pay for the utter violation, the humiliation of stealing the body he’d just made comfortable for himself for his own. To rend him limb from limb for all the harm he’d done to Etheirys.

But even his hatred would bring Zenos joy. And frankly, Xander didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He couldn’t leave. He had no choice but to indulge him in his little fantasy now. But he could make damned sure he derived not one bloody onze of the satisfaction he so desired.

He opened his eyes to behold his opponent in this strange dawn at the terminus of all, and, with his face set in a mask of determination, firmly replied, “Think what you will. But I’m not letting you leave this place.”

Zenos’ eyes slipped closed. Xander felt a momentary sting of petty delight at the silent sigh of disappointment writ large on his face.

And then, he had to open his godsdamned mouth.

“So, you would still play the hero.” Zenos opened his eyes, his grim expression shifting for a manic smile as he continued, “No matter. In acceptance, you reveal your deception. You know full well what we are. What we seek. To shine incandescent in death’s shadow!”

Xander’s eyes narrowed as he pulled out his codex, readying himself for another battle to the death against this one stubborn cockroach that refused to stay where the hells he belonged- in his memories. Shine incandescent in death’s shadow, he would indeed. And Zenos’ candle of life would be extinguished for good and all, even if it took his own life to do it.

I’m so emotional about dinosaur stuffed animals,,, there are these creatures, extinct long before any of us were alive, but we found their bones and their eggs and their footprints. And we made drawings and models of what they could’ve looked like. And we made them into stuffed animals so we could hold them. We made them soft so we could love them. I’m sobbing

(miles edgeworth voice) cringe as fuck. not even camp

Reintroduction

Timeline: 2.0 beginning

Mayhem Moondrop returns to Gridania for the first time in a decade, looking for a fresh start as a registered adventurer.

(I'm posting this during FFXIV Write, but it's not an entry; instead, I'm going to pin it as an introduction to my Warrior of Light.)

Luckily, they were too surprised by the sight of the Moogle, so soon after waking from another dizzy spell, to react to it out loud. As they watched it bob in the air and steal the wine of the merchant who’d joined them at an earlier stop, it became clear that they were the only one on the cart who was seeing it, and they didn’t want to start the process of returning home by convincing onlookers that they were prone to conversing with thin air.

“Have you chanced to witness anything suspicious, kupo?” The little creature hovered and dipped anxiously in the air, and after a moment’s consideration Mayhem shook their head, hoping their fellow travelers would think they were still clearing away the cobwebs. They knew what Moogles were, of course, having grown up in Gridania as a child and heard plenty of stories about them, but they’d never glimpsed one up close, and certainly never before been able to see through the glamours that concealed them when they didn’t want to be found. Maybe that, too, was related to the strange dreams and dizzy spells they’d begun having after the Calamity a few years ago? The fits had only grown more frequent when they’d returned to the Shroud’s denser aether, enough so that they’d decided to take this carriage for the final leg of their journey back to their childhood home.

The Moogle seemed disappointed but not surprised by this response, and flitted off into the woods after a bit more chatter: Mayhem watched them go, hoping that they’d have a better opportunity to converse in the future without looking like they were losing touch with reality.

The gregarious merchant who sat across from them had by this point moved past the sudden inexplicable emptiness of his wine bottle, and resumed engaging them in conversation. Bremondt, as his name turned out to be, seemed a pleasant enough fellow to pass the time with, and as the two young Elezen tucked into a corner of the cart didn’t seem eager to join in with any stories of their own, Mayhem was soon caught up in laying out their pre-adventuring background for him. They explained about the theater troupe they’d traveled with before the Calamity, first as a guard, then as a stagehand, and eventually taking small parts onstage as well. “Unfortunately, the Calamity made things too difficult for us to keep on as a group,” they sighed. “I admit I’ve been a bit at loose ends ever since; coming here to register as a guild adventurer seems like the best idea I have for a fresh start.”

“Plenty of folks lookin’ for just that, these days,” Bremondt agreed. “Did your traveling theater band ever come by Gridania, or is this your first time down this way?”

Now, Mayhem hesitated. The players had been on their way back to Gridania for the first time in a few years when the Calamity had struck, having picked Mayhem up on their previous pass through the region, before they’d hit their full growth and back when they were still going under their childhood name. So they hadn’t traveled here with the troupe, but it was far from their first time being here among the trees. Not that they felt they owed a near-stranger like Bremondt the entire truth of their story, but was it really worth coming up with a lie over something so minor?

Luckily, the man seemed to have taken their pause as a response in and of itself. “Ah, don’t mind old Bremondt,” he answered, waving off his own question. “Everyone’s got a couple dozen things they want to keep to themselves, don’t they? I don’t need to pry into what your history with the place is or isn’t, but let me update you on the latest developments, as someone who runs these roads pretty regular-like.”

Mayhem let him go on a bit about the state of the roads and the forest, the beast tribes and the merchant guilds. It had been almost a decade since they’d left the city - maybe more than that, with how hazy time had gotten for a little while in the immediate wake of the Calamity. Most of the guilds had been handed over from the masters they remembered growing up to one apprentice or another; everyone had known Beatin was the only real candidate to take over the Carpenters’ Guild, but there had been a bit of rivalry among the leatherworkers, and it was interesting to learn that the haughty and exacting Geva had been the one to come out on top in the end.

Not that they were going to let on to anyone just how well they knew these people. They’d changed enough in both name and appearance that they didn’t expect to be recognized as anything but a newcomer, and so a newcomer was what they would pretend to be. Instead they chimed in politely just enough to encourage Bremondt to keep carrying on as the carriage wound its way up toward the gates of the city, until at last they rolled to a stop.

“And here we are, lad,” Bremondt said, dismounting from the cart with a grin. “Didn’t mean to talk your ear off quite so much, but I hope some of it helped you get settled. I’ll be headed for the markets and then back on the road once I’m done there. If you don’t mind, what’s the name I should be listening for the next time I come? There’s something about you, I don’t doubt you’ll be the talk of the town soon enough.”

Mayhem grinned back at him and jumped down as well, then bowed with a flourish. “Neither lad nor lass, actually, but always a performer to the core. My name is Mayhem Moondrop, and I do indeed mean to be memorable.”