One x One Final Fantasy: Age of Ophiuchus Flashbacks

[Lucyfer]

The History of Ivocea, from different Points of View

Zariel Arkidos: Age 26, The Death of Emperor Lavi
Oleander Arkidos: Age 24, The Death of Emperor Lavi
Reva: Age 47, Meeting Leviathan
Reva: Age 57, Leaving
Lixue Virys: Age 28, Shiva's Kiss
Zariel Arkidos: Age 29, Trisha Vespers
Oleander Arkidos: Age 16, Jealousy
Cleon Bandoethal, 13, Lost in the Forest
Jagger Petrea, 23, Plans for the Future
Zariel and Oleander Arkidos: Ages 30 and 27, Sibling Rivalry
Leander Arkidos: 32 years before the story, Cremation
Sesario Kavalieris and Hector Illium: Ages 31 and 11, The Bet
​

 

[Lucyfer]

Zariel Arkidos: The Death of Lavi Arkidos​

Slap!

It was not an uncommon sound nor fate for the beloved daughter of Lavi Arkidos, and she did not so much as flinch or move as Emperor Lavi’s hand connected with the side of his daughter’s face. She remained standing, glaring more at open space than him, pulling her lips into a tight line to shut herself up.

“You are a year late in summoning Phoenix, and some pathetic scientist has already found his Zodiac.” Lavi reminded her, palm folding into a single accusing finger which he placed near her chin, “At this rate, even your brother will have his Zodiac before you.”

“I do not know what more you expect me to do,” Zariel said calmly, “It is not that impactful on our people. We conquered Prumoor two months ago. We’re poised to take Escander. My Zodiac will come, and I will keep working at it.”

“That’s not good enough.” Lavi said, lowering his hand, “Leander had Phoenix at twenty-five. You’re twenty-six. Everyone thinks you should have it by now. That’s what we told Amarum!” He was pacing now, “We are losing support. We are losing morale. People are forgetting what we’re fighting for!”

“Perhaps because you like to keep it a secret,” Zariel said, and he paused in his pacing. Zariel half-expected another blow, but it did not come. Her father was growing increasingly violent in his age. He’d been fighting Prumoor for decades.

In truth, the people of Amarum doubted him. Zariel heard it everywhere she went, when people questioned what they were doing – they were questioning what Lavi was doing. “Do you know what Lord Lixue thinks should be done?”

“I have heard the theory that the Zodiacs are brought by death, but I’ve also heard he has voiced some doubts on this, given the cryostasis involved in his personal situation which was unlikely to have actually killed him.” Although magic was clearly involved, so who knew?

“It’s a theory I think we should try.”

Some fear betrayed itself on Zariel’s face, a minute twitch of her lips, a slight widening of her amber eyes. “I disagree. Leander died, and he didn’t come back from that.” Zariel reminded, “A year before I was born, I don’t think death is the way. We’ll find another way.”

“I see nothing wrong with testing this.”

“I see plenty wrong!” Zariel’s voice pitched up, and she wondered a moment if she ought to call for the guards stationed outside her father’s quarters. Would they even answer to her? Would they help her, when it was her father who was the possible assailant? Either way, she crossed a leg, stepping away, “This is my life at risk!”

“A small thing in the grand scale,” Lavi turned from his pacing to start towards her, and Zariel wished she’d brought a weapon right then. She hardly thought it was something she needed when visiting her father, never mind the fact Lavi was always armed.

‘But what about Oleander!’ It was an outcry that Zariel held back in her fear, not wanting to actually throw him at the mercy of Lavi just to test this. That the thought was even there almost repulsed her, and certainly sent a spike of guilt through her.

Instead, she tried to stay calm, even as she was stepping back towards where she did see a weapon.

“You’ll have to wait for another to be born if you lose me. If I die, morale will plummet further, and you’ll be left with Oleander as your heir.” Something she knew her father didn’t want, and he paused.

Zariel hesitated those few steps towards the weapon, hoping some sensibility would return to him.

It didn’t. “A small price to pay with Ophiuchus still taking more and more over.”

Zariel didn’t have time to pivot on her heels and turn to run, though she thought she would. She had forgotten that, in spite of his age, her father was still a skilled combatant. He drew his blade in a fluid motion, and lunged forward, pushing the greatsword through her abdomen, and out her back.

She didn’t feel any pain.

Perhaps that was the strangest thing about all of it, as her lips fell open in surprise, but no sound.

She heard the doors open.

She felt the blade leave her body, all that was holding her up at that point. She fell backwards, catching sight of the golden cloak her brother always wore, before her head hit the floor. That sent pain rushing through her, and she blacked out, sparks of gold following her, as if torn from that same cloak. It painted the darkness for a moment, before she was able to recognize that it was downy feathers raining around her.

‘Did I…?’

She tried to reach for one, with no hands, with no ability to move. She tried to focus on just one, and she watched that one seem to unfold, to catch fire.

And then she was awake, in pain, and everything around her was charred black as she sat on a cot in the infirmary.

The fire remained in her hand, a flickering flame that danced and sputtered in her hand as she tried to get her bearings, while others ran around, shouting for more healers, and moving bodies of attendants too close to her, out of the room. Their loud shouts were almost painful to take in, and the flame extinguished in her hand as she finally moved both hands to cover her ears and draw her knees up to her chest as she tried to center on where she was, and what was going on.

The room cleared around her as she shut her eyes.

The sound dissipitated until she was mostly alone. Someone was standing by, and after a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes to see the room she’d tried to shut out, and the woman in heels standing off to the side, waiting, patient.

“Empress Zariel?”

Her hands lowered from her ears, and she turned her body so her legs dropped over the edge of the cot. A hand went to her torso, covered by some flimsy white gown.

The doctor took that as her cue to continue speaking, “You were brought in with a cauterized wound to your front and back. Oleander brought you in, babbling quite a bit, but we gathered he killed your father…and your mother. I’m sorry.”

Zariel didn’t recall the wound cauterizing, or any sensation of flame.

She swallowed, “He…didn’t kill my father,” she said, shaking her head as if she could will that truth away. Except, she knew that he must have.

However, to say that would mean keeping him in prison. He had saved her life. She owed him much more than that fate, and she had to keep the memory of her father pure in the mind’s of the people, as well.

She couldn’t let it be known her father tried to kill her.

She couldn’t let it be known Oleander killed him, either.

In spite of the fact she didn’t feel all there, and her head was still spinning from waking up, she knew this had to be addressed immediately. “There was an assassin. I…I remember the colors of Ucantis,” her voice trembled. In another state, the lie would have been too obvious, but as it was, “He saved me. Oleander saved me,” that, at least, was true, and there was conviction, “he couldn’t save our father then….”

“He said he killed your father. He said…,” and she trailed off, not wanting to say that Oleander claimed Lavi tried to kill Zariel. Perhaps that was a bit too much in her state.

And perhaps Oleander was a bit…out of it.

“He must have been feeling guilty for not saving Lavi,” Zariel managed, feeling half-lucid as she got to her feet. The doctor immediately stepped forward and tried to press Zariel back to the cot. She managed it, and Zariel was forced to sit once more. “How did my mother die?”

“Poison. She…was found in his cell, dead.”

“Suicide,” she said softly, “it must be.”

It would be. “Poor Oleander….”

 

[Lucyfer]

Oleander Arkidos: The Death of Lavi​

Oleander Arkidos had spent another tiring day in the training yards, mostly to get away from everyone. He was just so exhausted with the politics that had popped up with the takeover of Prumoor, and the way that shifted the focus from military excursions to governing territory and moving soldiers about. What should have been a celebratory event had instead seemed to be the most difficult event in Amarum’s history.

He didn’t understand it.

He was passing by his father’s room towards his own quarters when he paused, hearing the pitched voice of Zariel behind the door, and noting no guards posted outside. ‘Strange.’ He crept closer, and eased one of the two overlarge white doors open just a bit to peek in, and hear a bit better.

He noticed shadows first, Zariel’s moving away from his line of sight, before Lavi stepped into his line of sight, pausing with words that seemed almost too desperate from his sister. He never heard her desperate. Or afraid. Or anything remotely indicating weakness, really.

“…die, morale will plummet further, and you’ll be left with Oleander as your heir.”

‘What are you talking about? Dying?’

“A small price to pay with Ophiuchus still taking more and more over.”

Oleander was horrified as he saw his father pull a blade into sight, and thrust it forward. Although he could not see Zariel, he knew where that blade went. He felt stuck in time for one, terrible, moment.

And then he saw red.

He pushed both doors open, letting them slam on either wall, as he ran forward. His father pulled the sword from Zariel’s body, and although Oleander saw her fall back, he did not pause to look at her or stop her fall. He had drawn his own blade into his hand. “Oleander, wait! This isn’t—”

“SHUT UP!” Oleander screamed at his face as he used his strength to slam into his father’s own blade, an upwards stroke that moved his father’s hands and sword above his head. Oleander followed through, sloppily, but nonetheless, successful enough as his father lost his balance against the weight of his own blade’s upward momentum.

Oleander had enough time to make another swing down, this one cutting across his father’s torso, deeply. Another cut followed as Lavi stumbled backwards, blade falling to the ground but not leaving his hands. He cut through Lavi’s arms, severing them, before he stepped by his father’s now-fallen sword and pushed his blade into Lavi’s chest and into the nearest wall.

He held Lavi there, watching him struggle to speak as blood came up his throat instead of words. What words he might have said, were lost to his drowning in his own blood and pain, but Oleander waited until the light in his eyes dimmed. Until he was certain.

And until he heard an inhuman shriek behind him. He spun around, hoping to see Zariel awake, even if it would be in pain.

What he saw instead was brief, the sight of a fire rising from her body, “No, NO!” Oleander ran to her body, leaving his sword in the wall, to try and pat the flames out with his cloak. He thought it worked, as they died away. He did not notice, in his haste, how they sealed her wounds so she wouldn’t bleed out – there was still too much blood around her, too fresh, for him to know that no more was leaving her.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Oleander cursed, “Zari…” No amount of hoping and waiting there would do anything, though, and although he had a thought it might not be wise to pick her up, he did so, cradling her limp form in his arms as he got to his feet, and then sprinted out of the room, trying to remember the way to the infirmary in his panic.

He ran into a guard long before he ever found the infirmary on his own, and the guard paused long enough to see what Oleander was carrying, “What happened to Zariel?”

“I—infirmary! Please!” That was more important right then, he could confess afterwards.

The guard nodded, and though Oleander could see the panic and fear spread, they were of saner mind than he was at the moment, and able to lead him to the infirmary, where Zariel was taken from his arms immediately, and taken from his sight, before a battery of questions hit him from all sides about what happened to her, and he spilled it all, all that he knew.

“I was just walking by – I was just going back to my quarters, I just got back from the training yards. I heard her and my…my father,” there was a nervous, anxious laugh as he said that, calling the man he’d slain his father, a man he knew never really loved him, the way Bellona never loved Zariel, “but she sounded afraid, and I looked in because I was worried and – and he stabbed her! He just stabbed her, I don’t know – I don’t know why, and I had to protect her, right? I mean….”

His shoulders dropped.

He was crying, though he didn’t really realize it as he spoke on, “He was in the wrong, right? Trying to kill her – right?”

There was uncertainty in the infirmary, that much was evident. “Of course,” someone did step forward, “but while we sort things out, you’ll need to go rest,” the woman in the heels put a hand on Oleander’s shoulder, and then looked to some of the guards that had followed, “Would you please see him to a cell?”

Oleander looked up, startled by the request, but as the guards stepped forward, he realized what he’d just confessed to. Not only patricide, but regicide. So, he did not fight the guards as they came forward, and took both of his arms to turn and lead him out. He went willingly enough, and when he was put into the cell, he sunk to the floor of one corner, and he stared at a wall.

He zoned for hours, though was still barely startled when the cell door eventually opened, and in slipped his mother. He couldn’t find a smile for her as she came towards him, regal as ever in a burgundy dress, and she came to kneel at his side. “My boy,” she touched his cheek, still wet from tears that had remained on-and-off even in his distant state. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm….” It was committal enough, he supposed.

“I heard what happened,” she said, “Zariel’s on her deathbed,” she sounded smug about that, “but she needs to be finished off.” Oleander’s gaze started to lose some of its glaze as it came into focus, falling on Bellona as she was pressing something into his hand, a glass vial, “I can get you out, no one is going to question me for that, and since you saved Zariel, I’m sure no one will question you going to see her. This poison won’t be detected. You can finish things. You can secure the Empire for yourself.”

He felt his mother curl his fingers over the vial.

He knew what he heard.

He felt the tears stinging his eyes again, uncertain if he’d ever really run out. He shifted, straightening his position against the wall, as she clasped her hand around his wrist and straightened up herself to try and urge him to stand. The hand on his cheek drifted away, but he caught it in his own hand, and drew her back.

He pulled her into an embrace, burying his head briefly in the crook of her neck.

“There, there,” she cooed, “it’ll all be over soon.”

“I know,” he agreed, voice muffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

There was, however, as he proved to her after a few more moments of memorizing her embrace, and all the good she had wanted for him, at the expense of others he loved. At the expense of a love he had always craved from his father.

As he broke the embrace, lifting the hand with the poison up through the gesture, making it seem like he was using it to hug her back – which, wasn’t a lie – he grabbed her hair and tilted her head back.

Her surprised gasp, and, “Oleander, what are you doing?!” was enough of an opening for him to pop the top off the poison, and pour it down her throat. She sputtered, no doubt didn’t drink it all as she was able to spit some out. He let her go, and she got to her feet, swaying, and stepping away from him.

He watched her with that forlorn look as she swayed into one of the walls, the poison surprisingly fast-acting. She slid down it, and collapsed alongside it.

He let the vial go, and rolled it towards her body.

The body wasn’t taken out until the next morning, when someone brought him breakfast.

He was kept in silence, with two meals, for days on end.

He waited.

And waited.

Until the day Zariel Arkidos stepped through the door, holding herself up, radiant in red and gold, her regalia already screaming ‘Empress’. She didn’t kneel or bend, but walked to him and offered her hand. “I’m sorry they put you in here,” she said, as he reached for her hand, and was helped up to his feet, “You’re a hero, Oleander. The entire kingdom knows what you did to save me.”

For a moment, he was confused how that made him a hero, but before he could get that question out, Zariel wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, and whispered in his ears, “Everyone knows you fought off an assassin from Ucantis.”

‘But I didn’t?’

When Zariel pulled away, he stared down at her, confused, “But mom…?”

“I know…you couldn’t save her. She was besought with sorrow. I’m sorry she had to take her life in front of you.”

‘But I….’

He nodded, mutely, and let Zariel take his wrist to lead him out of his cell and back into the light.

 

[Lucyfer]

Reva: Meeting Leviathan​

The Faded Timberlands groaned and creaked with an unusual pain. Her shrieks were twisted and muted, cut off one second, only to come alive the next in a soul-rending howl. Reva heard it, ears flicking with each new sound, as she crouched atop one of the intricate gazebos within Abysh village. She could not sleep. It had been going on for days now, for weeks, and only she seemed to hear the agony that the Timberlands was in.

“Sister.”

Reva looked down to Syji staring up at her, no blood sister, as her white skin and white hair indicated. Her yellow eyes stared up at Reva in deepening concern, “Come down, sister. Come sleep,” she extended an arm up towards her, “I will stay with you.”

Reva shook her head, and let herself descend from the gazebo, landing lightly on her heels, “I cannot sleep, sister. There is something wrong. I must go see what it is.”

“The only thing wrong is you are not sleeping,” Syji came forward and touched a hand to her cheek, trailing it down to her neck to rest on her shoulder, “You are hearing things, you may be sick.”

Reva took Syji’s wrist and put it on her forehead, “Do I feel sick?”

“No, but you act it,” Syji said, and Reva noted as she spoke, that Syji’s constant shadow, Ajmi, was behind her, behind a pillar and looking over at them. Syji brushed her hand over Reva’s forehead, “Come with me. Tomorrow we will annoy the healers until they can figure what is wrong with you.”

“It isn’t me!” Reva said, shaking her head, tossing her unruly mess of fluffy hair around with her, before she let out a huff, and started to walk off. “It is not me! She is hurting! She is in agony!” Reva kept walking, and Syji was quick to catch up, realizing that she wasn’t heading towards any of their sleeping hutches.

“Where are you going?”

“If no one will listen to me, I shall listen to Her and find what is wrong.”

Ajmi was still trailing behind, but caught up at that, “That is not good! We do not know – this may be a trap!” Her voice was always high, but it was higher yet in her fright.

“You all think nothing is wrong, then there is nothing to fear,” Reva stated, picking up her glaive on the way out, where it was leaning in the area of the caretakers. Syji grabbed her bow and arrows, but Ajmi took nothing, following closer to Syji as they left the protection of Abysh village and went into the Timberlands.

They walked mostly in silence, letting Reva’s hearing guide them deeper into the forest. “We are almost out of the forest…anything beyond is not our concern.” Syji said cautiously.

“Are we? I do not see trees thinning,” Reva noted. “Is it someone else’s forest? Is this where our men go?”

“I…no,” Syji shook her head, and held her tongue.

“We should go back,” Ajmi said, but neither commented to that, continuing forward and finding the trees did not thin, though as they saw a fog ahead, the trees started to look damaged. Poisoned.

Reva approached one near the edge of that fog and touched it, “You see?”

Syji hesitantly approached and touched the tree, finding that the tree itself seemed literally frozen from within, damaged from such a thing. “I…what has caused this?” She turned her head towards the fog.

“We must find out.”

“I do not think we should go alone. We should return, tell the others, and think of a plan.”

“A plan against an unknown? We must go back with information.” Reva said, and went forward, as did Syji, and then, begrudgingly, Ajmi.

They did not get far, as all three realized too late that the fog was not fog at all, but something far fouler: Mist. It was rare within Ivocia, or so it was supposed to be, and certainly not prone to falling upon Viera lands. Yet, there it was, the pungent smell of aether entering their noses and starting to remove the senses of the three viera women.

Reva tried to get a grip on herself, but all for naught; she fell prey to the madness of it, and lunged at Syji, thankfully, no longer considering her glaive as anything useful. Her fingers wrapped around Syji’s throat as she knocked Syji to the ground and fell with her, trying to take the life from her as Syji reached up to try and claw at her instead.

Ajmi grabbed Reva’s hair and pulled her all the way off of Syji with surprising strength, tossing her some feet away.

Reva let out a feral cry, and started to get back to her feet, before an overwhelming sound in her head caused her to grip at both sides of her head and pull her ears down. She stumbled against the voice, uncertain where it was even coming from. She was taken to the ground again by Ajmi tackling her, but it didn’t last.

Despite their wild states, or perhaps because of it, they were all taken by surprise as the Mist around them seemed to crystallize in the air, beautiful shards of ice hanging still in the moment between them all. More seemed to rise out of the snow, and started to move off the trees, hanging in the air, and starting to twist into a serpentine shape.

Ajmi ran before she could see the end of it, a monstrous, translucent dragon appearing in the Timberlands, body wound around many of the trees. He let out a roar that seemed to clear the Mist in the area, pushing it from the area, helping to clear the heads of Syji and Reva.

The moisture left behind turned to rain, and seemed to steam as it connected with the snow, creating a different, natural, sort of fog around them. Reva was startled by the rain drops falling on her, but it helped to clear her mind quicker as she got to her feet, hand on the trunk of a tree as she oriented herself.

Syji couldn’t help but let out her own shriek as she saw what was before them, and she started to pull her bow out to aim at the dragon. “Reva! Move!”

But Reva looked upon the dragon as he lowered himself and brought his head down to be on the same level as her. She reached out a hand, and he brushed his nose against her palm, holding still, allowing the understanding that he wasn’t there to harm to reach Reva, and Syji, even though Syji kept her bow aimed and prepared to fire on him.

“He has helped us, Syji,” Reva said, “I do not know why or who he is, but he has helped,” she said, “Find Ajmi before she hurts herself wandering,” Reva advised, and Syji nodded, and went to do just that, hesitant though she was.

“Who are you?” Reva wandered, as she moved her hand over his muzzle, “Why have you come to us?”

There was a trickling in her head, a deep burbling, like water over stones in a creek. She squinted, “I’m sorry, I do not understand.”

She could hear the physical laughter, and within her head, she heard a sound like water crashing, like a waterfall, but there was something comprehendible in it, the suggestion that she would understand in time. “I thank you, no matter. You have done us a good service, and we will restore our Timberlands to their proper state. We will heal the forest. Is that what you want?”

There was something interesting in the way he righted himself, not shaking his head, nor nodding. Reva took his answer for a positive one, nonetheless, as he rose up into the air, and seemed to disperse into more water droplets to fall upon the forest, as Ajmi and Syji returned to Reva.

 

[Lucyfer]

Reva: Leaving​

“Do you not see? Do you not hear? There is more out there we must know about!”

Reva stood before the elders of the Faded Timberlands, fists clenched at either side of her as her red eyes glared upon impassive faces. Too old, too long-lived, too stuck in tradition. Though by human years, none would call Reva young, among the Viera she was still considered just that, and her defiant outburst was only further proof of this.

“We have spent a decade tending the parts of the Faded Timberland so impacted by the Mist, but we know not the cause, we know not why it fell into Mist, we know not where Leviathan comes from, and we know not what is going on beyond the Faded Timberland. Had we gone beyond that year, perhaps we would have answers.”

Veda, the Head of the Faded Timberlands, held Reva’s gaze with her own amber eyes, shining both with the firmness and gentleness that one who aspired to her position ought to hold. “Reva,” she spoke as if placating a child, “even now, She tells us to stay here, and tell us our concern does not lie beyond Her reach. Would you disobey Her? She has been here ages longer than any of us.”

“And She is as stuck as the rest of you!” Reva’s words were tantamount to heresy among the viera, and there were a few startled gasps. Except from Veda, who had lived long enough to hear such words before, and see the defiance in eyes such as Reva’s before. Her gaze remained as impassive as before.

“Stuck, and yet, She remains. Our home remains. Our way remains. She has been through things like this before, she will go through much more. She knows what is best, Reva.”

Reva bit her bottom lip. She had little argument against something so eternal as the very woods she was born into, but how could it be right? How could they just ignore this?

It was not the Wood which spoke to her as she addressed Veda, but the burbling of Leviathan, ever-present with her, “Did She not tremble when the stars fell from the sky, those years ago? Stars older than her, stars more everlasting than She?” Her voice sounded petulant, childish, and Reva hated that.

Yet, it caused a reaction. No longer was Veda’s face impassive, but her white brows knit upon her fair face, and she stepped down the stairs that led up to the meeting-home of the elders to join Reva on her own level, “What would you know of this, Reva? You were not even born when such as that occurred.”

“But you saw, did you not, sister?” Reva inquired.

Veda sighed, “All things must die and pass on, Reva, even stars. To be confronted with mortality would cause any to tremble, even Her. It is a hard thing,” Veda allowed, “to know we live but once, to know we shall pass, but we viera become part of the Wood, feed it, nourish it, and speak with it, in our passing. Those who stay.” There was the unspoken unknown of what happened with those who left, “This is our way, sister. Here we begin, and here we return.”

“And when the Wood is gone, what becomes of us after death?”

Veda shook her head, “I know not, Reva. It concerns me not. If we should fade when the wood fades, then we fade.”

“Should we not do more to hold it off? Should we not find more answers?”

“Why do you think we have healers, care-takers, and hunters, if not for such things?” Veda asked, placing her hand gently on Reva’s shoulder. “Do you think She means us harm by directing us in this fashion?”

And yet, in the moment that Reva’s eyes began to water, Veda and Reva both knew what her answer would be. “No, She loves us,” Reva said, sniffing as she accepted that, with her own path laid before her eyes as the vision of Veda began to blur in front of her, “And I love Her, as I love you, Veda, but I cannot stay. I cannot, for love of Her, and love of you. I must see more of the world, I must know what is happening out there.”

Veda gripped Reva’s shoulder a little tighter, “You will be cut from your past, and your future, Reva.”

“No, sister,” she shook her head, as she reached up and lightly picked Veda’s hand off of her shoulder, “I will have my past with me the way we all have it with us, held close in my heart,” she stepped back and rested her hand briefly over her heart, “but my future will not be yours, or of the Wood. It is not cut from me. I am picking a new one. That is all.”

Veda shut her eyes, tilting her head down.

She spared no tears. Though this did not happen often, it did happen. She had to appear strong and continue to uphold their way. “Go, then. Take nothing with you other than what you have now, lest She bar your path.” Her voice was choked with emotion, in spite of her resolve not to cry. A terrible anger, and a deeper sorrow.

Reva thought to protest, to ask for weapon or food, but bit down on that resolve. If she was to leave the Faded Timberlands, she had to leave it all. No longer could she take what it had provided for her. By rejecting it, she also rejected all of that.

She took a step back, sound enough to spur Veda to open her eyes. She spoke no words, for she had said it all in speaking of her love. To respond with anger, bitterness, resentment, or anything else at the end was not how she wanted to leave. She gave a simple dip with an inclination of her head, and turned away in silence.

'Will you stay with me?' She wondered of Leviathan, and felt his presence all the closer as if in response.

 

[Arcanist]

Lixue Virys, Age 28: Shiva's Kiss​

Retching sounded throughout the lab, only heard by Lixue, the retcher himself. It had been long since the researchers hung up their lab coats, bid goodbye to the lab for another day. The young man stayed behind to work late, as he and others of the Virys clan were prone to do. Though, rather than simply catch up on paperwork and read up on the newest case studies for magical enhancement, he was overcome by his own obsessiveness.

As of late, they had acquired large amounts of mana, enough to enhance the strength and speed of large beasts, and making their technology and machinery run more efficiently. If it could do such wonders for machinery and beasts, the process it could make for humans would have been marvellous.

His colleagues and superiors, however, were less than eager. If inserting so much mana into a beast’s veins caused its very heart to burst and kill it, then the same could inevitably happen to a human. Magical enhancements were a boon but they hadn’t been confirmed as safe and effective methods of gaining the upper hand in their subjugation of the rest of the continent. Lixue’s suggestion to bring in willing subjects for magical enhancement testing was denied, the overwhelming majority in favour for the gatekeeping of such measures.

Lixue had no choice but to take it on the chin, to take his defeat willingly and selflessly. Once the last of his colleagues had vacated, the young man was quick to begin conducting his own self-experiment, having injected himself with a large dose of mana, and recording the effects and outcomes of this experiment.

Now, he was suffering the consequences of it.

Lixue spat the last of the yellow bile into the trash can, which had already been amply filled from the beginning of the evening. He lifted his head, and slumped his body back up against the wall beside it. His hand brushed back strands of soot-black hair, feeling sweat stick to his fingers. His veins burned and his body felt as if it had been locked inside a furnace. His body was rejecting the substance he had so willingly put into it, fighting against the potential goods it could do.

Or perhaps the harms.

Lixue didn’t want to think about that. He managed to get himself onto his feet - though, how weak he felt doing so! - and approached his desk. He grabbed some water, taking a swig and letting it swish through his mouth, before returning to the trash can to spit it out again. Even after throwing up the contents of his stomach, he still felt horrible.

Lixue slid down the wall beside the trash can again, the sweat continuing to bead on his forehead. Maybe if he just slept, it would all go away.

…

He awoke in a panic. He grimaced, feeling something clamp onto his chest -- no, his heart -- as it battered against the cage that was meant to protect it. He didn’t know how long had passed. Was it morning already? Had anyone found him? Maybe he was already...no, he was still breathing, barely. Was he going mad?

The longer he sat there up against that wall, assuring himself his heart would slow, hoping he was getting over the worst of it, begging for his body to make it through it, the further his confidence waned. Lixue had bet all he had, his very life, on some unachievable notion he had let himself grow obsessed with. An unlucky bet on life’s game of roulette, and he was set to land on the completely wrong colour and number.

“Fuck,” Lixue whispered, the dire realisation coming over him, panic setting in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He yelled, straining as he clambered onto his feet, though, even as he pushed himself from the wall, he fell straight back down onto the floor. His body couldn’t take it. He tried to push himself onto his hands and knees, but every limb in his body ached and burned and trembled. He couldn’t do it. Everything was turning against him and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Lixue sobbed. He sobbed like a child who couldn’t get its way, his chest heaving, him panting, squirming against the ground in agony. “No...no, I can’t…” He blubbered into the ground. “Can’t...take...anymore…!” He strained through gritted teeth, tears running into the sides of his mouth. He was coming to the end, he knew that. His body was taking its damned well bloody time to shut down on him.

Lixue panicked, lost control of himself, and practically shrieked, “Someone...just...end it! Kill me!!”

Lixue wouldn’t see it, would never have known it, but the strange marking on his back started to glow golden through his clothes. What he did know was that he felt an icy wind rushing past his ears, whistling around him, a cold frost hitting his body. His poisoned mind had thought it was his death finally coming to pass. Ice creeped up the walls, though, he hadn’t noticed it. Lixue waited instead. He waited for this chill to consume him, to stop breathing, for the pain to just ebb away. He thought it was coming, when the room glowed an icy blue.

But something else did. And with each crackling step, ice webbed itself against the ground, not that Lixue was in any state to make sense of it. Two high heeled feet stopped before him, and when Lixue mustered the strength to look up, he realised a woman was standing before him.

His mother? Yenay? Sying?

But he realised she was none of them. In fact, she was much taller, taller than any of them, or him, for that matter. Her skin was coated in a pale blue, with long blue locks, and ornamental hair pieces to boot. As for the rest of her...well, she was a sight to behold. It was clear any man would lust after her, with what little was left to the imagination.

Lixue didn’t want any of that though. He crawled closer to the woman, weakly grabbing onto her leg. He flinched at how cold she was, how ill she must have been to be this cold... Breathless, he requested the same thing that he had only moments before. “Please...kill...kill me…” It was a pathetic sight, Lixue lying on the ground, begging for death in his barely conscious state.

The woman never once thought to mock him. She leaned down to him, helping him onto his knees. There was no pity in her eyes when she looked into those tired, pained eyes. She smiled, placing her hands on his face, while he still gripped her arms for support.

“You needn’t fear any longer,” her voice echoed through Lixue’s head, like the pair of windchimes that always rung out in his garden during seasonal breezes. “I will ease your pain.”

Lixue never questioned her, never thought to ask how she would do it. He only knew that she would fix everything, that maybe he could die with some peace and dignity. And so he never pulled away from her even as she leaned in, and kissed him.

They were so cold against his lips, yet, he felt no discomfort. Even as he felt his body go cold and stiff, his very blood freezing, he felt oddly at peace. He let his eyes close, felt his body go numb.

And he was gone.

~~~~​

“Lixue? Lixue! Lixue--aah, you’re freezing…!”

Conscious ebbed back to him as he listened to the distant voice call out to him. When the spots of darkness burned away, he was met by the distraught expression of…

“Shiva?” He uttered, blinking at the confused expression that overtook the woman’s face. He looked closer, his mind foggy, but he definitely recognised the face, the black hair that had been pinned up so neatly. “Yenay…” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, trying to regain himself.

His older sister closed her eyes and let out a breath, relieved that his brother had at least remembered her.

Lixue found he was sitting up with colleagues swarming him, a blanket thrown over his shoulders. His eyes were unfocused, drifting from face-to-face, one icy wall to another. He glanced back at the cocoon of ice that stood unfaltering, despite its shattered entrance.

“Lixue...what happened to you?”

He glanced back to Yenay. When he opened his mouth to explain, he found that he didn’t know where to start. He looked back to the cocoon, the frozen walls. Shiva...Shiva.

“My Zodiac,” was about all Lixue could muster. Those that surrounded him broke into some murmuring, some claiming that had to be the case, others not being so sure.

Yenay blinked, then her eyes dropped. “I see.”

Such a muted reaction wasn’t uncommon from her. Not when the Aquarius’ Constellation had already caused such a sizable gap between them in the past.

It would have to be addressed another time.

“Please, help me onto my feet,” Lixue said.

Yenay raised her eyes back to Lixue and her lips formed a taut line. “Don’t be stupid, Lixue. You’ve been frozen in that thing for five days. You’re confused, and you’re not well, and--”

“Don’t play doctor with me,” Lixue told her, referring to the woman’s complete dedication to her profession. “Help me onto my feet.”

Yenay was set to protest again, but the watchful eyes of his colleagues and other scientists told her to hold her tongue. It was bad enough she denied him once. Twice would be the talk of the nobility. She helped him up onto his feet, and he groaned, a testament that perhaps he should not be moving so soon.

“Where’s our mother?” Lixue asked, half-expecting her to have been here waiting for him to emerge. Caught up in her research as usual, no doubt.

“You can’t be serious,” Yenay hissed, “you’ve just emerged from that...that thing, and you’re freezing, and you’re clearly--”

“Cocoon, actually.”

“What?”

“Cocoon of ice,” Lixue corrected her again. “Like for butterflies...or whatever else has cocoons….” He waved his hand dismissively, taking a stunted step forward, as if slowly learning how to use his legs once again.

“Lixue…” Yenay sighed.

“Come then, if you’re so eager to nag me, you can do it on the way to our mother.” Though, Lixue realised he was at a disadvantage there. He’d have two Virys’s harping on at him then. He felt Yenay take an arm in hers, helping her brother towards the entrance of the lab. Realising he left the other colleagues behind without so much of an explanation, he looked back to them. Most of them began moving and returning back to their work, not even questioning Lixue.

He’d have to hope they weren’t stupid enough to touch anything.

Slowly, Lixue was learning how to use his legs again. Though, he had been more focused on that than anything else around him, or anything particular about himself, that his sister seemed suddenly keen to point out.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

“Pardon?”

“Your hair. It’s all…” Yenay vaguely gestured with her hand, to which her brother narrowed her eyes. She sighed, turning him towards a window, which barely showed their reflection.

“...blond,” Lixue mumbled. A result of Shiva. Or maybe the magic. He pulled at a tuff and said, “I suit it so much better than you ever did when you dyed it.”

Yenay scowled. “I’m sending you back into that cocoon.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Zariel Arkidos, Age 29: Trisha Vespers​

“Empress.”

Zariel lifted her gaze from a letter she’d read over a thousand times to see the woman brought before. She smiled gently and rose from her seat, gesturing for the blonde woman to take a seat as the guard inclined his head and was quick to head out. The woman marched forward, trying to look as if she had no fear in the room with its high ceiling and long windows. “You must be Trisha Vespers.”

“I am,” she said, sliding into her seat and casting a wary look around, before meeting Zariel’s gaze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Empress Arkidos. I’m not sure why you’ve summoned me.”

Zariel’s smile never faltered, “I understand there has been some confusion about what you are entitled to, given your relationship to my brother. I am hoping we can clarify this together, for Lilia’s sake.”

Trisha tensed, “Don’t bring her into this, there’s no reason to—” Zariel lifted a hand, smile fading, but slowly. Trisha bit down on her bottom lip, but waited.

Zariel continued, “I bring her into it simply because she is the tie that binds you to Oleander and myself, and I understand you have felt mistreated in this situation,” Zariel continued, “I would like to rectify that.”

Trisha folded her arms over her chest, “All I want is enough money to care for Lilia on my own, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You have been granted a stipend, once a year, of 120,000 gil, paid out monthly. That is more than most of our citizens make in a year, even those with children.”

Trisha shook her head, “You’re not understanding,” she said, biting her lip a moment, and feeling tears threaten to spill in spite of her clear resolve to stay strong, “I don’t want to stay in your life, or Oleander’s life, and I don’t want Lilia involved in all of this. I just want one payment – just enough to move and not be found.”

“Or you tell the world that you have Oleander’s child, and you fight for her to have a claim to the throne.” Zariel said blandly, and leaned back in her chair, taking the letter up and flicking it towards Trisha, “He hasn’t read it, if you’re thinking Oleander told me.”

Trisha grabbed the letter and skimmed it, before balling it up and throwing it to the ground, “You take your brother’s mail now?” She said, as if that could somehow inspire guilt or revulsion about what Zariel had done, “You are a controlling bitch.”

The words did nothing.

“Your desire to have Lilia not be a part of this mess, as you claim, seems at odd with your threat. Besides that, Oleander seems to love her.”

“I don’t care,” Trisha said, shaking her head, “I don’t want him in her life, I don’t want any of this in my life, I just want out. I thought two million gil would be a small price to pay to make sure there were no threats to your non-existent dynasty. I didn’t think there’d be any questions like this,” again, the waterworks, “You must understand – it wasn’t – I didn’t want all of this, it was just a night out and this happened—you’ve made sure we wouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

She crossed over her own lines, her own logic, emotions hot, and fear making her stumble. ‘If you were so concerned about it, you could have just cut and run, rather than threaten.’ But she wanted money. And when she had money, she would eventually want the power.

She would use her daughter as a pawn.

Zariel had seen it too often.

And yet, she smiled, and rose, walking around the desk to set a hand on Trisha’s arm, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I haven’t been in your position, precisely. It’s hard to understand the anxiety, but I am listening,” she reassured, “I want what’s best for my brother, but I don’t want Lilia to suffer for it,” she gently squeezed Trisha’s arm, “I’ll have the gil sent to you tonight. You’ll have to cut what ties you have here. I’ll keep Oleander distracted – it should only take a few months before he gives up and gets bored.”

Trisha looked flabbergasted, caution returning in a moment, “R-really?”

Zariel nodded, and went back around to the proper side of her desk, opened it, and tossed the bag of gil she had in it, “There is a down payment,” she said, “take it, and get started for tonight.”

Trisha didn’t look twice. She reached for it, smiling as she got to her feet, “Thank you. I’m sorry—I—I really didn’t know what to do, or how to…thank you.” She didn’t finish her words, bowed deeply, and took her leave.

Only an hour later, Zariel was meeting with one of her assassins.

That night, when Trisha opened the door to someone bearing the Arkidian Empire’s symbol, she would be met with steel instead of gil, and Lilia would be left, to be found later, after the house was ransacked to make it look like a simple robbery. Not that Oleander would ever shake off the suspicion that it was somehow, his fault, for being with Trisha and having a child with her.

He’d never truly know how right that was.

 

[Lucyfer]

Oleander Arkidos, Age 16: Jealousy​

“There you are!”

The look on Zariel’s face as she stepped into the Arkidian Castle, out from one of the secret passages, gave Oleander life. The utter shock was priceless, and he cocked a smirk at her as she tried to regain some of her poise in a glare and straightening up. It didn’t work very well. Not with her hair as messy as it was, or her make-up just barely touched up.

Or the alcohol on her breath when she spoke.

“What do you want, Oleander?” There was a slight drift in her speech, though she held herself up admirably.

“I was thinking we should go talk to dad,” Oleander said, moving forward and catching Zariel’s arm before she could consider moving away from him, “about how that project you were working on tonight is going.”

Zariel narrowed her eyes as Oleander tried to pull her along, digging her heels into the floor. He didn’t have the strength he’d have one day, and while he was stronger than her, it wasn’t by as much as he’d like. “What. Do you want?” Zariel repeated in a lower tone, clearly not wanting to go along with this.

Oleander turned back around to face her and put a hand on the nearby wall.

“I just want to get you in trouble.” He stated, “I’m sick of you getting away with everything.”

“Have you considered learning how to get away with things?” Zariel retorted, and felt Oleander’s grip on her arm tighten considerably. Nearly painful, but not quite.

But, she had his attention, “And how do you propose I do that?”

“Half-lies,” Zariel said, “Omissions. Guard schedules. Bribery.” She was trying to get herself out of this hole, obviously. “I know how difficult it is to be held up that way.”

“You don’t know shit!”

“Why do you think I sneak around?” Zariel was able to wrench her arm out of his grasp, though nearly at the cost of her balance. She stumbled back and had to reach out to the wall herself. Oleander watched her take a steadying breath. “My project is finished, I’ll receive high marks tomorrow for it. Shouldn’t I be allowed to have some fun? Shouldn’t you?” That imploring gaze.

Oleander wasn’t going to argue that he didn’t deserve the same things. “Fine. Next time I wanna go out with you.” Oleander said. He watched her brows knit, “Yeah, yeah, big adult party with liquor and sex and drugs, and your baby brother tagging along – you do it, or I have that party crashed.” He threatened.

“Okay,” Zariel didn’t argue, “I’ll help you come up with a good reason and make sure you have an alibi.” Proof. “Deal?”

“Deaaaal…but I wanna know who you were with.” He put on a cocky smile, “Was it that boy who’s been over here – the one with the really high cheekbones?”

Zariel shoved Oleander into the wall on her way by, “None of your concern.”

He laughed softly, but followed after her, “Come onnnn,” he whined, “I wanna know who the future Emperor is gonna be!”

“Who said it’ll be an Emperor?”

Oleander paused a moment – then quickly caught up, “Wait, wait, an Empress? Two Empresses?” He could see he was getting on her nerves, that she was regretting she’d said anything at all, “I don’t judge, I like both,” he added, “but we have this whole bloodline thing, dynasty bullshit—”

“It’ll be whoever I want, if I want,” Zariel grumbled, “but yes it was high cheekbones boy, will you leave me alone?”

“Deal.” He’d just make sure high cheekbones kid knew he knew in some fashion down the line. He really didn’t think high cheekbones kid was good enough – Zariel was just having a weird phase, which he understood.

She wasn’t wrong – the stress on both of them certainly made them deserve time to get away from it all.

He just hated she always got away with it and was never found.

But at least now she’d teach him. He was excited for that. He wanted in on the big-kid parties.

 

[Arcanist]

Cleon Bandoethel, 13: Brave​

Cleon was lost. Hopelessly and utterly lost. The boy hadn’t enough sense to mark trees he already passed, and now, every tree he did pass looked identical to the last. The trees loomed over him like Ucantis’s blank staring statues. He could feel the darkening evening’s chill against his neck. With the departure of the day’s sunlight behind the mountains in the distance, Cleon grew more anxious with every bit of light that was lost.

But he would not be fearful in the face of adversity. He had to be brave. No boy his age was afraid of the dark or what was in it. He would be resourceful. He would be brave. That was what he had come here to do, after all.

When the darkness did come, Cleon was lucky to have gathered branches, leaves, twigs, anything he could use to build some cover for himself. It was horrible. Even when he managed to find long, sturdy branches, the way they would be positioned refused to stay up. They tumbled down and Cleon awoke during the night with a pile of branches lying on his torso.

If he were not a prince, he would have never been an architect or a builder, that was for sure.

He slept very little as you can imagine one trying to sleep in an open forest. Instead, he stared up at the stars, counting each one in the hopes he might sleep. At one point, he raised his right hand to the sky, imagining how the marking would look up there with all the other stars.

It was a rather simple marking, he always thought. A crooked upside-down Y - from his view. To anyone else, it was an upright crooked Y, moving from his middle finger and branching off over his hand.

“You shouldn’t hide your mark,” he remembered his mother telling him, unwrapping those bandages he had coiled messily around his hand.

“I’m not,” the young Cleon had told her. “I hurt my hand. That’s why I have the bandages on.”

Inara Bandoethel knew better. When she had unwrapped all of them, with little protest from Cleon, and turned his hand for injury...only to find he was right. At the bottom of his palm, the skin had broken raw and there was dried blood at the wound. She sighed, not at him, but for believing he had used the bandages for other purposes.

“I didn’t want to bother you or Reva about it,” Cleon explained, though, ironically, as he said his next piece, tears welled up in his eyes and he threatened to burst into sobs. “But I just wanted to be brave.”

His mother had told him he was brave, but he should have told one of them so that they could treat the injury. And then she had cleaned it up, and bandaged it up again for him, and kissed his cheek, and made it all the better for him.

Cleon dropped his hand from the sky, sighing.

He wished the same looking up at the stars.

~***~​

For the second day, he wandered again. His stomach gurgled at him, demanding sustenance. He lapped up at any bit of saliva that thought to fill in his mouth. Cleon thought about the breakfast he would have missed that morning. Porridge was still a firm favourite of his, even in the early spring. Extra honey, an unhealthy dose of bananas and blueberries. His stomach growled again, and he wished he never thought of it.

Cleon, disappointingly, didn’t find any berry bushes, never mind berries that were edible. Eventually, though, he did find a stream...and had the gall to drink from it. He was desperate enough, and he hadn’t thought of any ill consequences of it. Clear streams meant clear water, didn’t it?

Not quite. But whether or not it was the water that did it or the conditions in which Cleon had travelling in, he felt himself weaken.

He grew too tired to gather any resources to build cover for himself. The most cover he could find was from sleeping under a tree. But even at that, when the rain came, he couldn’t avoid all of it. Usually, he found it relaxing to listen to the rain, but being out in it, impaled by cold slaps of water to his face, took away that joy. Instead, he had been left drenched, freezing, even more, exhausted than he had been before.

Cleon thought about when he was told he was born during a summer rainstorm. He thought about his mother telling him not to go outside without a coat. He thought about how Reva let him jump in puddles, even if he wasn’t allowed to.

He cried when he thought of home and how he so desperately wanted to return.

~***~​

The third and final day was a blur, and yet, it felt like an entire lifetime was passing by him. He wandered again, slowly, and often found himself in another part of the forest he hadn’t recognised. He was thirsty, he was hungry, and he felt worse than he had the night before. At one stage, he sat against a tree, drifting in and out of consciousness. Cleon’s body felt heavy. Lifting any part of his body was an effort.

He hadn’t considered that he might have been dying, that his body was struggling to fight against any possible infection he had developed in the past few days. He was technically a boy still, smaller and weaker than most. There was only so much he could handle, and this was not one of them.

Cleon gave in to tempting thoughts of sleep. He lay down near some bushes, mumbling incoherent words.

He thought he heard voices. Several, by the sounds of it. All strong, loud masculine voices, shouting his name.

He opened his eyes. Though, he hadn’t the strength to cry out or the mental fortitude to alert them as to where he was. It had gotten dark in the past few minutes he had closed his eyes, he believed. It had obviously been much longer, though, he couldn’t tell that. There was the flicker of a warm, golden glow in the distance. Lanterns.

But it wasn’t enough to warrant him to stay awake. Cleon was about to fall back into sleep when he heard another call his name.

A woman’s voice. One who spent all her time calling his name, all her days running after him like she was doing now.

“...Reva...” Cleon whispered, though, it was not enough to be carried to her. He swallowed back and again, tried to call for her. It was a little louder, but no doubt it was being drowned out by the other calls of his name.

“Reva…” Cleon tried again, but he groaned, feeling darkness fall over his vision, his eyelids grow heavier.

Dying still hadn’t occurred to him as a thought just yet. Something wasn’t right, he knew it, but he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind in hopes of rest. In the hopes he would wake up, be well again.

Cleon mumbled again. He could hear Reva speaking, hear footsteps nearby. He heard leaves rustle, then, his name. He felt two hands grip onto him, shaking him. He was drifting far from the realm of reality. The shaking, his name, the orders Reva was giving out, they felt as if they were all happening within a dream.

But he was comforted by it. Even if he couldn’t be pulled out of his heavy slumber, he was at peace.

Cleon knew he would be home soon.

 

[Arcanist]

Jagger Petrea, 23: Plans for the Future​

“Do you ever get bored of doing all of this, Jagger?”

Said woman glanced to Juno, lying in her arms, as her fingers continued to glide over her bare shoulder blades. The heat of the day often carried through to night in Ibec, plus, the two always managed to find a field or an open plain far from camp where they could indulge in their own privacy. In this case, they claimed a large, smooth rock as their property for a few hours.

“Is that supposed to be a trick question?” Jagger asked teasingly, grinning when Juno chuckled. That familiar low and musical hum.

“Just answer the question, dummy.”

Jagger smirked, glancing up at the reddening moon. Most would have thought that to be an ill omen but Jagger and her cohorts knew better. A red sky at sunset, riding yellow waves and a scattered blue sky often meant for fair weather the next day.

"How could you be," Jagger started, nodding to the sky, "when you've got a view like that?"

Juno smiled, though, hadn't turned her head to look at it. Instead, she kept her eyes on Jagger. "I mean, you can get that view from anywhere...right?"

"Ah, but you get the best view of the red skies in Ibec," Jagger countered. "See, you get those fancy sky lights further north, past Ucantis. And then don't forget, storms are best viewed in--"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, no need to be smart about it," Juno attempted an annoyed tone, though, yet, she couldn't stop smiling. Though, she did prop herself up onto her elbow, and Jagger stopped stroking her back, though, kept a hand on it. "I meant, don't you want to go further than Ivocia?"

Jagger hummed, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, I guess it'd be cool." In all honesty, she hadn't thought much about it before. She had been focused on simply walking most of Ivocia, earning enough coin to keep her afloat, and so on. She thought, maybe, they could go further than that, on a few occasions, but…

"Wouldn't it be expensive?" Jagger asked, raising an eyebrow. "Ships are steep, airships are even steeper."

"That's why we save up our gil," Juno said, poking Jagger's chest. "As in, you stop squandering your coin away on ale and food."

"Uh, now," Jagger smacked her backside lightly, causing her to giggle. "Don't forget the inn rooms. Nice ones, I'll remind you."

"I never forget," Juno whispered, leaning in closer to her face.

Jagger chuckled, stealing a quick peck on the lips. Now that she had put the thought into her head, she was curious by it. "So, what's your plan then? We sail all the seas and walk around like regular tourists?"

"Exactly," Juno grinned. "We go wherever we want. Do whatever we want."

"And when we run out of money…?"

"We do what we always did," Juno resolved. "Set up as mercenaries again. Or do odd jobs. Or, if we're desperate, sell off our bodies for some quick coin!"

"Tch, you're on your own," Jagger said, to which Juno laughed. "I'd rather not suffer the creeps."

"We've dealt with plenty of creeps before."

"Yeah, but we didn't have to get with any of them," Jagger pointed out.

"That's true," Juno laughed, returning to Jagger's arms.

The two descended into silence again. Not an uncomfortable one. It had rarely been one of those, unless they had argued about something. They quickly learned not to do that after the whole group of mercenaries were afraid to break the silence in camp.

Jagger stared up at the darkening sky, thoughtful. "Let's do it."

"Eh?"

"If you want to go travelling, then we'll go travelling," Jagger looked to her, smiling. Though, she barely had time to finish her sentence as Juno practically jumped on her. She managed to sit up and kiss Juno, who just giggled. Jagger did pull back for a moment to speak. "On the condition...that you're the one to tell your dad."

Juno laughed and nodded. "You let me handle that beast."

Jagger showed her immense gratitude with yet another kiss.

All she needed to do was not overindulge in ale for a while. Perhaps a long while.

 

[Lucyfer]

Zariel and Oleander Arkidos: Sibling Rivalry​

“Zariiiii~,” the voice was a nuisance to the Empress as she stood watch over the training yards, the Arkidian Army preparing more with magic than they had with other foes because Ucantis, well, wasn’t known to respect the magical arts. That would bite them in their ass, if Zariel had anything to say about it.

Even if the acclaimed general Oleander Arkidos didn’t take to magical training.

At all.

“What?” she didn’t bother to look back at him, watching the soldiers from her balcony perch. “I’m busy.”

“No you aren’t,” he came to her side, folding his arms over the white railing so he could force her to see his face out of the corner of her eyes. “Lixue says I’m finally good to go after all our tests with that new drug, or whatever.” Zariel finally directly looked at him.

He had changed. He was making that obvious by wearing a sleeveless, and practically backless, red shirt. The black markings that traced the flow of the drug in his veins was apparent. It was pretty, in a way, like decorative tattoos, except it moved. That was almost unsettling enough to be sickening, really.

Some would probably find it enchanting. Oleander would no doubt find those people soon enough. “And?”

“And? And?” He looked annoyed. “I want to test it out! And I can’t just test it on the rank and file.” He grinned, “C’mon. You know me better than anyone in a fight. You can see how much better I am now.”

‘I could also just trust Lixue.’ Which, Zariel did rather easily, without scruples, which was sometimes a surprise even to herself. Yet, she couldn’t argue doubt into her heart easily with Lixue. She had tried, of course, but every misunderstanding was resolved with a conversation. Lixue was blunt. He didn’t play the political games.

He wasn’t playing here, with her brother, either.

Zariel relented with a sigh, however. “Very well,” she was bored watching as it was, “although it won’t do anyone any good to see Lixue’s experiments aren’t enough to overcome me.” She allowed the hint of a smirk to be her challenge, as Oleander blew hot air in disagreement, but followed her down from the balcony to one of the training fields, which was easily cleared with a handwave from Zariel.

The commanders shouted their instructions to those training, “Put up a barrier,” Zariel called to one of the nearby mages, who quickly did so, making sure any magic that hit would be dissipated.

“Wait, you’re going to use magic?”

“You said you thought you could beat me,” Zariel noted, “I assume you included magic in your calculations.” Apparently not. “You didn’t think I would fight without it, did you?” She held her own without magic, but a newly supped up Oleander? No, she wasn’t an idiot.

And she didn’t want to lose.

Besides which, everyone knew Oleander never won when she used her magic. It was a rallying cry, in a way – a reminder of why magic was used, and useful.

Just as those captains on the sidelines began to shout out to the troops who had been cleared away from practice – and those coming to observe – to remember that their leaders knew the battlefield! Their leaders fought on the front lines! Their leaders shared in the risks, and that was why they followed them!

Propaganda and truth, of course.

“All right,” Oleander kept his grin, “Bring it.”

It was immediately brought with a fireball launched from afar, though Oleander dodged it and rushed forward, through a barrage of flames that Zariel rained down upon him. He did his best to dodge, too, but Zariel was a fast fighter, and her magic improved, bit by bit, even though it had not come to her in the standard fashion.

When the first fireball hit, the change was noticeable so far as Oleander’s abilities.

For one, he didn’t stop, although it hit him square in the chest.

He pressed on, the tattoos rippling with the strike and seeming to spread it over him, as if he hadn’t taken any damage.

Needless to say, Zariel unloaded after that, and Oleander still tried to dodge, but he took more hits until one went low and his knees buckled – but he was close then, and was quick to roll out of the way of another blast and get to his feet almost at Zariel’s side. She jumped back, grasping her whip and flicking it out once she had some distance again, but he was used to that.

He caught the whip on his sword and pulled it out of her hands before she could respond, closed the distance.

Their swords clashed, and Oleander tasted victory in that instance, when he watched Zariel’s knees buckle against his newfound strength and drop her to them with that first guard.

“Fuck.” The word hissed from between her lips and he just pressed on, not breaking the deadlock as she tried to hold on her knees.

Cheers erupted on the sidelines – some rooting for Zariel to overcome him in these dire moments, and others cheering on the Imperator with bewildered laughter after all the fire he’d endured.

“Come on, Zari. You can say it. You can say I won.”

A pillar of flame that engulfed both of them was her answer to that. Oleander flailed backwards, sputtering as he tried to tap out the flames on his hair. “HEY! Do you have any idea—” a fireball to the face was her precise answer to his complaint about his hair style and the difficulties in managing it. Not that she was flawless, her clothing burnt more than a little, and some evidence of the fire singing her, too.

She wasn’t quite immune to it, but she sure as hell acted like it.

“Desperate much?” he said after catching that fireball on his blade and watching it dissolve.

She made a run for her whip, but Oleander caught up quick – his speed now matching hers, perhaps exceeding hers, he wasn’t sure, and he tried to catch her again with the sword. She refused to block, and dodged instead.

Again, and again, and again, trying to get closer to her whip, and spewing fire as she could. It was evident she’d nearly drained her mana, though. The fireballs were weaker, smaller, and sometimes all that came was a puff of flame from her palm.

At least she’d learned her lesson about blocking, though.

She did get her whip again, and she made her strikes far more erratic, at odd angles, and odd parts, trying to keep the distance as Oleander was now put on the defensive. The tattoos didn’t quite nullify and spread the strikes of the whip the same way it did the magic.

Blood spilled.

Poison cut into his veins.

But Oleander wasn’t going to give up when he’d seen what one strike could do to her, and he managed to catch the whip in his hand when she aimed it at his wrist, and he pulled her right to him, causing her to stumble, and forced to react with a guard when he slammed his blade down.

Again, she buckled to her knees, but he didn’t taunt…immediately.

A boot to the chest sprawled Zariel on the ground, and then – then – putting the boot back on her chest, he let his blade hover over her neck.

“Saaaaay it~.”

Cheers. So many cheers.

Zariel hated the sound of them.

Zariel hated Oleander the moment her back touched the ground, but she always did, when she lost. She couldn’t even summon a pillar of flame to knock the damn smirk off his lips. The poison wasn’t even knocking it off his lips though she saw a small wince that suggested it was still doing its job. It just hadn’t done it well enough to knock him out first.

“Come on, is it so hard to admit Lixue did a good job on me?” It was Oleander’s little ploy to make it easier. To make sure others would volunteer for Lixue’s experimentations. It didn’t make it easier to endure, but she forced a smile.

Anything for the Empire, right?

“No. I can admit Lixue’s bested me,” she said, to an eyeroll from Oleander as he lifted his boot off her chest and offered her a hand up, which she took – before he let some of his weight fall on her.

“Your poison is a fucking bitch,” he whispered, turning his head enough that his wince wouldn’t be seen, hidden by the side of her face.

“Suffer, whore.” It was said so deadpan, one might have thought she really didn’t care. And she almost didn’t, still smarting from the embarrassment of losing even when she had her magic.

But it was playful enough and Oleander knew it. Just as he knew she was equally upset, “Don’t worry, Zari. I’ll keep suffering so you can get better with your little fireballs,” he straightened up, patted her back, and they walked to the edge of the field together, Zariel fairly pristine, but Oleander looking charred and bloodied despite being the victor.

All he had needed to do was get close, after all – and maintain the resilience to do so. “I’m sure you’ll want to keep at this until you can beat me, right?”

“No,” she denied, “I’m pleased to see Lixue’s experiments work as expected,” she was.

“Gonna get some yourself, then? Lead by example?”

“No, I have you for that.”

Which seemed to happen quickly as one of the captains came over, “Oleander – how did you manage to handle all that fire?”

Oleander stopped to talk, still shaking with the poison now and then, as Zariel walked on, hearing a little, “Well – you’d honestly have to ask Lixue how it works, but I just felt a kind of hot pressure that, uh, waved over me? Really, I don’t understand….”

Zariel tuned it out, and tried to ignore that gnawing bitterness.

This was best for the Empire.

This was best for the Empire.

It was wonderful that Oleander was the Strong Hero who could withstand physical blows and magical ones.

It was best for the Empire.

Lixue needed the new recruits to his experiments. They had Ucantis and Rozari to take on.

‘You could have it done to you, too.’ The mere thought was sickening. To have something strange put into her, something unnatural improving her.

No.

She was Zariel Arkidos, and by the Twelve, she was enough!

So she would kick Oleander’s ass one day.

But today?

Today she would grab a pillow from her couch, throw it on her bed, and then throw herself on the bed and scream into the pillow.

And hope Oleander kept ignoring the poison so he fucking collapsed.

Which, it would turn out, he did. Zariel wasn’t supposed to be happy about this…but she enjoyed visiting him in the medbay to taunt him over it anyways.

 

[Lucyfer]

Leander Arkidos: Cremation​

Aquarius was born to Lady Chyou Virys only a year ago. Leander had met with the woman briefly, and seen the truth of it for himself, but another truth gnawed at his mind daily: his mind was going. It had been going for some time, but Phoenix kept it in line, taking over more and more.

The problem was now, that Phoenix’s mind was going, too.

The rot had set in.

Undeath had set in, anathema to the holy nature of Phoenix. Leander kept it at bay with elixirs and potions, but those were starting to hurt him. The evidence was visible now as he stared in the mirror and saw the way the flesh began to necrotize underneath his left eye, spreading towards the mark. Each golden dot of the constellation marking was now a hole in his face, but it didn’t bleed.

‘I can keep you alive no longer.’

Leander barely comprehended the words.

‘We must protect the crown.’

Yes, of course. Leander touched it, that thing which had allowed their fusion to be more solid. He started to take it off, but heard the ‘No!’ snap in his head like a whip and recoiled, almost whimpering as his shaking hands lowered and he looked in the mirror, through his own eyes to the blazing orbs of Phoenix that existed in his mind’s eye.

‘We must go back to the Temple.’

“I…I don’t know…what temple?”

Exasperation.

Phoenix pressed forward, only for the body of Leander to stumble forward and into the mirror, cracking it as his weight fell upon it and he slid to the ground as Phoenix fought to exist in the increasingly unholy body, floundering as he rose to his feet and stumbling steps away from the mirror, reaching for his head and shaking it violently back and forth as if that could clear the taint of undeath.

He couldn’t fight it.

He receded and Leander found himself on the floor, hip hurting, side hurting, from a fall he didn’t remember. He cried out, first from pain, then from the knowledge he was faltering. That cry turned to genuine tears as he wept into his hands, confused as to what needed to be done, but knowing there were actions that had to be taken. The fate of the world was still in his hands, wasn’t it?

Phoenix’s voice eventually returned. ‘Get up. Call for Lord Virys.’

Yes, yes of course. His most loyal advisor would know what to do, and be able to help him. Getting up was a trial, but he was able to manage it, and get to the door to his quarters, where his guards were positioned. “Aah….” They turned quickly to him, concern in their expressions, worry – but of course, the necrosis didn’t get better from a fall! Phoenix pushing forward had just exacerbated the wound on the left side of his face, if anything.

There was a bit of horror in their expressions for that, and Leander felt like recoiling against that look. ‘No, no, vanity has no place here.’ He needed help, though, and so, “Call Lord Virys to my quarters, immediately.” He mustered up his voice for that – only to immediately retreat and slam the door behind himself as he paced further into his quarters.

‘It will be okay. Lavi’s wife is pregnant with the next.’

The next heir to Leo, yes. Leander’s arms wrapped around himself, and his hands twisted around his arms, again and again. He didn’t trust Lavi. He didn’t trust Bellona. Lavi was a pathetic man, and Bellona was, well, quite frankly a poor choice but Phoenix had insisted on it, so he made the arrangement.

It didn’t matter if they hated each other, Phoenix claimed.

Just so long as they conceived at the right time – and they had.

‘But without me to guide the child, how will they know anything?’

As if that were ever a possibility.

He continued to wring his arms, until the door opened, and the black-haired man stepped in. He was getting on in age, too, but he was younger than Leander. Most were – Leander’s life was too long for any human. “Jianyu,” he could still smile as he saw the man enter, to feel genuine happiness at the sight of him.

Jianyu bore a professional smile, “Your Eminence,” he greeted, “what may I help you with?”

“I…I am not certain.”

The expression fell, the confusion returned. Why did Phoenix want him here? Phoenix did not say, did not fill in the blanks, and he looked away from Jianyu, towards the mirror as if that might bring some clarity. “Do you need a new mirror?” Jianyu clearly noticed where he looked, even as he approached Leander. “How did you break it?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t, Phoenix did.” He murmured, “Phoenix said to call for you but now he’s quiet. Oh,” Leander laughed, a sad sound, “I think I am killing him, Jianyu, with this dying business.”

Jianyu scoffed, “You could not kill a god, Leander,” some familiarity entered, “no matter how strong you are,” as if he were still strong.

‘Oh, if you only knew.’ As Jianyu took hold of his upper arm, he looked at him with tears pricking his eyes. How could he tell Jianyu that Phoenix was dead? How could he tell the world such a thing, when it would terrify them?

‘You cannot. And they cannot see what you are becoming. You must die here.’

Oh, was Jianyu to kill him? Yes, that made some sense, Jianyu could say an assassin did it, blame their next target or some such. He would protect the crown. “Oh…oh yes, it was about the crown, and what is happening to me. It must be protected, Phoenix has said, and so you must help protect everything, Jianyu. I need to die.”

Jianyu did look taken aback. “What?”

Phoenix pushed forward.

“Leander must appear to die.”

Jianyu had no chance to truly understand the sudden cost of his loyalty as a white flame engulfed him, turning him to ash on the spot, clothes and all. Phoenix undid the sheath for his own holy sword and dropped it into the ashes, as well as quickly shed a few layers of Leander’s attire, burning them a bit, moving quickly as the rot spread, before it became too much again.

He burst out of Leander, flying and growing in size towards the balcony.

“Come. Now.”

Leander had not the sense to question it, approaching and taking the familiar path up onto Phoenix’s back, “But—but where is—Jianyu? Jianyu? Where—” as soon as Leander was situated, Phoenix flew off the balcony with a deafening cry.

Amarum would remember it as the day Leander was found dead, a pile of ashes in his room – when Phoenix flew and left him, only to return a few months later to mark Zariel. None knew Leander flew off that day to the Temple of Phoenix, or that both faced another death, together, in that unholy necropolis.

 

[Lucyfer]

Sesario Kavalieris (31) and Hector Ilium (11): The Bet​

Perfection was the name of the game for the boy who was called, well, “boy” most often, but occasionally he was supposed to answer to “Not the Moogle”, “Brat”, and “Lue” or “Luwian”, supposedly an elongation of “Lue” that always meant he had seriously fucked up – or simply when his master was drunk and thought Luwian fucked up.

It was not the name his parents gave him, but The Boy was too young to remember that.

The Moogles called him “Little Ilium” after a hero of Escander, because he had a marking that looked like the Virgo Constellation. They filled his head with dreams of freedom and heroics, adventures, and gave him sweet dreams, and in return, he helped them with chores, with knowledge they couldn’t access, and scraps of food.

That day, The Boy was still smarting from a beating of sorts. Oh, it wasn’t anything gloves didn’t hide – but it made everything worse, since his work always involved his small and dexterous hands and fingers, which was exactly the point.

“You need to slow down your work, boy. This will help with that.”

The Boy was lucky his fingers hadn’t been broken. Only the flesh had been broken open and bled at each knuckle, which made working on the engine of his master’s friend’s ship difficult. It was how his master was paying off a debt he owed, using The Boy’s labor to do all that he needed.

There was also no rest for the weary. His master thought his luck was turning around, which meant The Boy had to follow him around to do whatever was needed. Fetch a drink, fetch food, carry the earnings (and not pinch one single gil, so help you Luwian!), carry the drunk bastard home (really drag him with some moogles) and not lose anything, and, of course, be a gambling piece.

Which was why he had to look nice.

No one wanted a dirty slave.

His hair was perfectly cleaned, his hands covered in the black gloves, and his attire fitted – but not well fitted. No one could know the kid was malnourished, that also led to him not being worth much.

Unfortunately, the night wasn’t going well for his master, but the fire of knowing it would get better, had to get better, was still burning in his eyes as he sought out a new mark, leaving behind his current table with what remained his gil in frustration.

The eleven-year old boy followed dutifully behind.

~

Sesario wouldn’t have said he liked Escander. While he reveled in its strange delights and enjoyed various people’s companies late into the night, there was plenty in the den of the wicked and depraved that left a bad taste in his mouth. He had done some pretty terrible jobs in his time, but he was at least paid for it and had some friendly face in the midst of it all.

The slaves here had nothing, owned nothing. Freedom was a dream that was further away than the sky here.

One thing the Empire could have improved here, but instead turned away from.

‘Will you sit and shuffle those cards all night?’

Sesario did not flinch at The Voice’s displeasure. He split the deck in half again, starting over the endless shuffling as he sat with his legs up on another chair. It didn’t scare him like it used to as a teenager, but even when it had, he learned not to react to the booming. He pretended it was another thought in his head.

Though, he still treated it as if it were someone else still – he wasn’t sure when or why he started doing that, but it seemed to help him live with it. “You were the one who told me to come to Escander,” he muttered at his cards, unworried of anyone catching him speaking to himself. The people here were too caught up in their own affairs, and plenty talked to themselves in the streets in drunken stupors. “I thought of coming here first. I needed that bloody engine looked at. A drink and some card games are an just an added bonus.”

He would not have been going anywhere The Voice asked him to without stabilising Valkyrie. Poor girl had been through enough as of late.

‘That boy.'

It decided to answer him, a surprise to Sesario, though, with an observation. He pulled his gaze away from the cards, unable to find who Bahamut spoke of. His eyes evenetually stopped on the man and boy that rose from a table. That shop owner, with a gambler’s determination that things would look up, and The Boy who did most of the hard graft on his engine that day. He looked different. Cleaner. Fancier. And the same gloves.

Who wore gloves working on an engine? Who wore the same gloves to a gambling den like this?

Sesario felt an unbearable weight in his chest. Without so much of another thought, he put his finger and thumb in his mouth, blew hard. His whistle cut through the rowdy gambling, and even if it dragged most of the place’s attention to him, he knew he’d get the attention of the ones he wanted.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Sesario grinned at the master and The Boy, pushing the chair out that he once relaxed his legs on. “You'll do the honours of joining me, won’t you?” He figured it wouldn’t take much to lure the bastard over with the stack of gil he had sitting out.

~

The whistle shattered through the evening, and everyone looked towards the one who did it. The face was vaguely familiar, but The Boy didn’t think much of that. There were plenty of vaguely familiar faces in Escander, and rarely were any of them friendly. Sadly, it seemed the stranger was talking to the Master, Vidar Trutuli.

It seemed it was for gambling.

So, of course, Vidar approached, “You sure about that?” he asked, taking that seat without waiting for an answer, leaving The Boy to stand a little behind. The Boy had once mentioned a way he could win more often with mirrors when it came to card games, and his own positioning, but he’d been smacked for that.

Apparently, cheating was a step too far, but enslaving children wasn’t.

“You could end up owing me that hunk of junk,” he said, eyes turning towards the gil, before sliding back to the stranger, “Luck doesn’t hold for everyone.” And his bad luck had to break. This looked like the perfect opportunity to him.

~

Hunk of junk. Only Sesario could lovingly name his ship so. But, of course he was sure of what he was doing. He lay the bait, and Vidar bit hard. He had a modest amount of luck - Luck of the Dragon he had heard it been called - and so he was quite confident in himself. Perhaps a tad cocky, placing it all on the line down to luck, but he'd add just a little bit of crafty skill in there.

"How about we test it then?" Sesario proposed with a grin, leaning forward to make a risky, but rewarding deal. "The gil," he motioned his head to the aforementioned prize, though never took his eyes off Vidar. "And my ship, if I win. Because I'm feeling generous. And if I win..." His eyes moved to the lurking shadow behind Vidar, before he looked back to the master.

"I get The Boy. I need someone to keep that hunk of junk in the air."

It'd be nice, he guessed. But not what he was after. There were plenty of nimble fingered mechanics to keep his ship going.

~

The Boy couldn’t stop the immediate groan that passed his lips and rumbled his throat as the stranger wanted him. The only good thing about that was the likelihood this man would travel out of Escander, and there he could run off and claim freedom, away from the hunk of junk and the strange man who decided he wanted a boy slave. ‘Hope you’re not into that kind of weird shit.’ The Boy considered himself lucky he hadn’t had to face certain kinds of abuses.

Yet.

Vidar shot a glare at The Boy for the sound, before scoffing, “As if I’d ever lose you, boy,” perhaps it was meant to be reassuring, but when Vidar’s back was to him, and his eyes to the stranger, The Boy gave him a withering glare that should have killed him where he sat.

And then he gave it to the stranger, because he should really reconsider his gamble. Maybe he’d be convinced he’d be killed in his sleep and reconsider

Probably not

Vidar was still alive.

And since Vidar had said he’d never lose, that meant he had to play. “I’ll play you. Pick your cards,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket and taking out his relatively smaller stack of cards, but of course, the size of the deck didn't mean much when one could only use five cards at once. “Closed rules. Makes it more exciting.” Since Sesario already had the board, that would determine plenty of the other rules. “I’ll even be generous and let you play first,” if that could be considered generous.

~

'Sorry, kid,' Sesario wished he had been able to reassure him that he wasn't one of those weirdos who wanted him. He'd like to think he didn't look like one of those kinds of people. Oh, well. All would be clear soon. He just needed to win that boy's freedom first, then he could do as he liked.

And it was obvious the feeling wasn't mutual about master and slave potentially parting, from The Boy's look. Same one that he shot to him, and as much as he wanted to make a face back, he moved his gaze to Vidar as he accepted, demanding he pick his cards. Sesario gladly did, plucking five from his deck. “Agreed,” he responded. He had played open and closed rules before - he had no preference for either.

It was all the bizarre rules he started to get handed when he expanded his triple triad opponent base.

“You’re too kind,” Sesario smiled, though Vidar could stand to be a lot kinder. "Same and Combo, if we're really making this exciting, yes?" He had grabbed a card from his five - a Tonberry, starting off in what was his top left corner of the board.

~

With the five cards selected, the game began in earnest. The Boy watched as Vidar laid down a malboro to take the tonberry, and continued to let his eyes shift between the cards. He knew the rules of the game, and was arguably a better player than Vidar because he understood that Same and Combo could take someone out at the last round.

He didn’t really get to play, he didn’t own cards. He didn’t own anything.

Which was probably for the best.

Some people would literally kill to get their hands on some of the super rare cards, like the Zodiac cards.

Still, despite knowing the rules, The Boy doubted that this stranger was going to come back from the thrashing he was receiving, with Vidar dominating the field by flipping each card, just one at a time, never bothering with Same and Combo wins. There was just one card left to be played, and Vidar looked smug.

“Guess it’s time to kiss those skies goodbye,” he told the stranger with a wicked grin. “Maybe you’ll get up the funds again – one day.”

~

“Ah…shit…” Sesario scratched his jaw, apparently lamenting his horrible choices that led to such a downfall. He watched Vidar play the board the past two rounds. Cards fell one at a time, but he hadn’t been worried. He couldn’t laugh yet, no, he really couldn’t.

Sesario knew a seasoned Triad player when he saw one. Dorokedo Erakedo, his old Lalafell-born captain, wiped the floor with him and the rest of his own crew more times than enough. He refused to play with him once when he asked Sesario to play with him, the losses being too much for Sesario’s pride to take.

“You fall back on the same patterns, boy,” he remembered him guffawing, and the surprisingly hard smack he got upside the head, “that’s how I play so good. I know what you’ll do, and I know what I gotta do to flip yer cards. It takes the old noggin and just a dash a’ luck!”

He only had one card left, but it was the perfect card to play. He set a _ card in the middle of the board. It flipped the cards either side of it as they had the Same values, but the Combo that had been activated meant a wave of blue fell over the majority of the board - enough to snag him the win. The placements aligned perfectly - most of the cards had just happened to have a higher value than the ones they flipped.

Sesario sat back with a satisfied sigh, hands clasped together. “I’ll hold onto the skies,” he looked up at Vidar, the same wicked grin playing on his lips. “Just for another round longer.”

And another round…and the final round after that. He delighted in the way Vidar squirmed each time Sesario used one of the rules, how he looked between the card he wanted to play and where he wanted to set it down. It was amusing to see his mind working, to second-guess himself.

Glory be to Triple Triad.

“Best of three,” Sesario announced proudly as he stood. Another round and another board painted blue. “What is it they say? It’s not about the size - it’s about how you use it.” Even if his deck was big, that didn’t mean he trumped every game. He’d still rub it in though. He looked at the master one last time again before his gaze moved to The Boy. “Let’s go, kid.”

~

Best of three, but Vidar was obviously wiped in two, although it seemed to mean the one who got to three wins first. The Boy wondered as he watched the pirate play, his arrogance on fully display after that first win, and Vidar unable to back down now that everything was on the line. Luck never turned from him, and that last game, he looked quite twitchy.

Quite panicked.

“No—but—please, anything else!” Vidar cried out in frustration as the cards started to be gathered up, “The kid’s part of my livelihood.”

“You shouldn’t bet things like that,” The Boy stated coldly, and quickly flinched as he saw Vidar raise his hand to hit him – as if he were still his property.

~

The man cried out, like they all did, when things didn't go his way. He expected him to fight for him. His reasoning, really, was pathetic, but he didn't know why he thought it would go any further beyond that.

One wrong comment from the kid had Vidar whirling on him, and something hot in Sesario fired up. He never let the hit land. He grabbed Vidar by his shirt, turned him around, and punched him right in the nose. Sesario felt something shift out of place underneath his knuckles, but hadn't stopped to think about it as he slammed Vidar down into the table, holding his head there as he growled.

"Pick. On someone. Your own size. Fucking bastard."

~

The hit never landed.

Vidar was punched instead by The Boy’s new master, which wasn’t a terrible surprise. The ferocity was, and it had The Boy feeling a touch of wariness alongside that strange, terrible feeling of hope. He knew not to trust hope, though. Hope was a lying bitch most of the time, and he had to be wary of thinking there was going to be anything good with a new owner.

Vidar, for his part, looked scared, and in pain, on the table. Wild eyes looked around for help, but everyone saw him lose properly, so he wasn’t going to get any. “Shiva’s tits, all right! All right! I’m gone, let me go, fuck. Keep the bastard. He eats too much anyways – you’ll be selling your ship to keep him!”

And Vidar would go, when released, the Boy watching him leave without any fondness before he turned that hard gaze on the stranger. “What should I call you?” a good first question to get out of the way, and find out how much of a freak this guy was.

Hopefully he didn’t want to be called ‘daddy’.

~

To feel him squirm, to know he was scared, that was reward enough for Sesario. There were plenty of men like him, and worse out there, that were a waste of air. Even as he begged to let him go, he felt like throwing him into the table again. But he wouldn't. He knew he frightened the kid, even if he put on a brave face.

He finally released Vidar, and watched him leave too. He wanted to say The Boy would be no problem, that hunger would be his problem. Of course, he didn't. Sesario knew better.

The sky pirate turned his attention back to The Boy - his reward - as he asked him what he was to call him. He realised it was a title, not a name he was after, and he had forgotten The Boy wasn't in on it. His temper simmered.

"Sesario. But that doesn't matter," he told him. It would be no consequence to him telling him his name - the two would never cross paths again. He tapped the table, motioning with a nod of his head at the bag of gil he gathered up. "You take the gil and get out of this place, kid," he explained, all hush. "I'm not taking you with me. So, go be a doctor or a bard or whatever." He wouldn't subject him - or anyone - to his habits, and his temper, and that strange way of life he had made for himself.

He also didn't need his parents asking where he got the kid from either.

~

Sesario. He’d heard that name before, hadn’t he? ‘Not a common name.’ Not here, he didn’t think it was common anywhere, and his mind was trying to wrap around where he’d heard it before his entire thinking process was disturbed by what obviously had to be a trap as Sesario told him to take the bag of gil and get out of there.

His gaze darted to the bag, before returning warily to the stra—Sesario.

He could take the bag.

He could run.

He could get lost and Sesario would never be able to find him or his gil again. He stepped forward, tempted to grab it and run, but he was still sensible. That was a quick way to lose a hand. “You’re…you’re not kidding?” The Boy kept his own hush, of course, as he got close enough to grab the bag, but didn’t reach for it just yet. He would, but not before he was certain his hand wasn’t coming off with it.

What he’d do with it was a question for later, when he had it.

~

Sesario watched The Boy's gaze dart back and forth between him and the bag. It was natural for him not to trust him. Men dangled freedom for slaves like they did gysahl greens for chocobos. It was how they got their claws into you and never let go.

He watched him edge forward, the bag never out of reach, and just within his vision. Even if he did grab it and run, it wouldn't matter to Sesario. He wouldn't stop him if that was the way he wanted to part. He just hated to see the reluctant hope in him, knowing he'd expect it to be swept from under him.

"I'm not kidding," Sesario reassured him, stepping away from The Boy. "You take care of yourself, kid," he nodded, before he turned and left entirely with his hands in his pockets. How else would he know that this wasn't a trap? Then again, he could have been waiting outside to grab him. Gods knew what The Boy thought he would do.

Even as Sesario left, he felt strange about the situation. He felt bad for leaving the kid...but that was what he was going to do anyway. Let him make his own choices, pursue his own freedom. He had the funny thought though that it would have been nice to have someone with him - even if he did win him off someone else.

A partner. He had considered one a few times now.

'As if.' Like the kid would entertain a thought like that after he was won in a card game.

~

No, it wasn’t a trick.

The man left the bag of gil, turning away, and going.

The Boy still hesitated to take it, but he did, and he opened it to make sure it was, in fact, gil. Which, it was. Plenty of it. He tucked it away and started to walk off, a bit in a daze with the newfound freedom. ‘Now what?’ His mind cycled a thousand thoughts at a time.

Go to the moogles.

Buy a hotel room?

Buy an apartment?

But how would he make rent – and what was stopping anyone from just grabbing him and enslaving him, really? He wasn’t strong. Sure, he was free now, but that status could change overnight, and who was going to argue? Poor kid spent all his gil on something stupid and now he’s in debt, haha, try again next time!

‘You don’t even have a name, kid.’ He scowled at his internal voice.

Okay, he could buy a chocobo and go…where?

He paused in the street, trying not to cry at the lack of the direction and the strange frustration and fear that suddenly accompanied being free. This was supposed to be good! Why wasn’t it, then? Why was nothing ever good?

He grit his teeth and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, before sprinting towards the shipyards, deciding he needed to talk to someone more adult than him, and that someone was an old moogle friend, Kupop, who the Boy found relaxing with a cup of warm tea. “Kupop! I’m free!”

“Eeeh?? Kupo? Really?” Kupop asked, sitting up straight, quite surprised. The Boy nodded fervently, and Kupop put his tea down to rush and embrace the lad, flying up to do so, “Kupo! Happy day!”

“No!” he denied, to a confused outcry, “I—I need to get out of Escander and I don’t know where to go.”

Kupop seemed to see the problem as quickly, “Well, Rozari is nice. Why, kupo! There’s even a Rozarian ship here! This way,” he waddled along, and the Boy followed. “We could get you all nice and packed in, easy!”

The ship was…a wreck. ‘I’ve worked on this ship.’ That was the ship he got his knuckles whipped over, wasn’t it? He worked too fast? Something like that. It was still a wreck. He frowned, but he knew his own work had been good. It would fly.

“The owner might not go to Rozari…and if they find someone stowing away….”

“Nonsense,” Kupop laughed, “We’ll give you all the food you need, and they’ll at least get you out of Escander, right? Even Prumoor is better and they’re at war!” The Boy winced at the thought of going to a warzone. Escander was likely next, once the Empire was done there. “What do you have to lose?”

“Alphabetical list?”

Kupop just laughed at the solemn note, and dragged the Boy along to get him set up to stowaway in the ship, a process that did not take too long at all.

~

Sesario went and did what he did best before he returned to his ship; galavanting and letting himself wander through the streets. Surprisingly, there was no drinking involved. He couldn't stay long - that's what he told everyone, as much as he put off getting back on his ship.

He wasted more time gathering trinkets and silly little gifts. Uncle Ses couldn't return to Rozari empty-handed, or else he would never hear the end of it. Stories and souvenirs were valued commodities back home.

Sesario could not put off leaving any longer, and so he returned to his ship - blasted, beat-up thing, but he loved her all the same - passing by one or two stray moogles murmuring their kupo's. He boarded his ship, and after battling with the cargo door to get it fully shut, made his way into the cockpit. As always, he made all the necessary preparations, ensured things were working as they should - for the most part. The Valkyrie started with a healthier roar than he was used to for a short time.

"That's it," Sesario patted the dash with a smile, "kid done a good job on you."

He could have had him fixed up his whole ship with the gil he gave him. He sighed, dropping into his seat.

Sesario rubbed at an eye. "I'm not lonely," He murmured, trying to sound a little more upbeat. "I have you after all, right?" But he and that Voice, knew better. The Voice didn't make for good company anyway, only showing up when he wished to.

It was back to business, finally taking off into the skies, and edging far from the den of greed that was Escander. He hoped the kid would be okay. He seemed capable. No, he had to be capable, living in a place like that.

~

The Boy found a place with an extra box loaded on the ship. He complained fervently that the box would be noticed, but even when he heard the steps enter the cargo area, the box went unnoticed. The ship started, and The Boy eventually poked his head out as he heard a terrible whining sound from somewhere.

How did this guy get anywhere?

The Boy couldn’t really stand the sound, despite the fact he was supposed to stay hidden, he got out of the crate, and went to where it was loudest, opening up the panel that was in the cargo hold, as the engine was nearer to the back of the ship. Not to mention, it was just easier to put it in a place that had a lot of open floor space, most of the time, and wasn’t fitted for permanent furniture.

The Boy’s eyes went over the couplings between the source of power and the power converters, noticing they were not, in fact, stabilized very well and that was where the whining was coming from. He didn’t have anything on him to fix it, of course, and the cargo hold offered very little.

Still, he was able to find tools enough to start tightening that connection up so the whining lessened. It was going to need a much better fix, though. ‘Gonna get loose too easily, these couplings are so old, augh, what the fuck, how does he think this is safe?’ Because the ship flew, obviously.

He could go back to hiding and not tell the owner, but…well, the guy was helping him, even if he didn’t intend to, he ought to let him know, right?

So, The Boy crept closer to the cockpit, where he heard noise.

A voice.

And he realized it was the same one who gave him the bag of gil.

Trepidation faded in an instant as he popped his head into the cockpit, “Hey, you have like – three couplings going bad for your power converters. I tightened up the remaining ones to stop the whining, but you really need to replace them.”

~

Sesario had taken to daydreaming, for what else was one to do when travelling alone? The Voice would not entertain him, and surprisingly, he had something against drinking while trying to maintain an airship in flight. Probably for the best, given the stories he had heard of others who did not consider the consequences.

Hell, even as he let the ship lull on its way home, he found himself getting sleepier. He though about letting his eyes close over until the Voice decided to grace him with his presence again.

It sounded different, like it was younger...and not at all internal. Sesario didn't take in the words, the things he already did for him, as he shot up in his seat and looked at the entrance of the cockpit. And he rose then, a little too suddenly, astounded.

The Boy.

Had he followed him onboard? Sesario wasn't so dense as to not notice he was being followed, was he? He tried to list reasons in his head why he would be here of all places, after he had no desire to follow him in the first instance.

"How the fuck did you get onto my ship?" Was all he could come out with. “No, no, don’t answer that,” he dismissed the question. He snuck on and hid somewhere. He never thought to do checks this time before he took off. “Why the fuck are you on my ship?”

Furious might have been too strong a word to describe how Sesario was feeling. Maybe. He couldn’t understand why this kid stowed away onboard on his ship when he was free to do as he liked. Did he even know it was his ship? Or maybe the idea of him hearing Sesario talk to himself was kind of embarrassing.

He would have liked a warning that he was practically stealing away this…this child. Though that defeated the purpose of being a stowaway.

~

Of course, The Boy winced at the tone and the curse that left Sesario's mouth, before that wince turned into a glare. Ungrateful! Well, he supposed he'd also be upset if some random stranger snuck aboard a ship he owned, even if they came with information about how to improve it.

He'd probably be more upset than Sesario, actually.

"I needed to get out of Escander." The Boy answered. "I...didn't know it was your ship, Kupop just said it was a Rozari ship and I'd do better in Rozari." Which, if Sesario was also from Rozari, that probably explained some of why he was nicer. Couldn't expect that from Imperials, even if he knew the official stance was anti-slavery.

"If you want gil back for the trip, I'll give it back," he said, hoping that would lessen some of the anger directed towards him. He was realizing rather quickly he had put himself on a ship with a stranger, and revealed himself. He was in an enclosed space. He couldn't exactly run away.

What he could do, unfortunately, was start to let the words tumble out of him, "I just...if I stayed there, I'd have all of it stolen and I'd be back in the same place, or worse, and the other option was to buy a chocobo, but I don't know how to ride a chocobo, and they kick, or I could have gotten a hotel, but even the good ones wouldn't be safe, and the bad ones aren't worth considering, and an apartment I think you need to be--to be a person," not an adult, a person. He didn't have a real name, or a real anything, to show for himself, "and I'm not so I don't think that would have worked, and Kupop was sure this would if I stayed hidden, but I couldn't because your ship was whining so I gave it a look and I saw the couplers and I tightened up what I could but you really need new ones so if you need gil to buy those I can give it back, just please don't drop me off back in Escander."

~

Most pirates wouldn't have listened. Sesario heard stories about ones craven enough to grab stowaways, hell, crew members if they were real pissd off, and chuck them overboard - while in the air. He wasn't sure if they were true, if they were supposed to work as deterrents, but he chose not to look into that.

And so even if he was peeved this kid had snuck onto his ship, he chose to listen to him plead his case.

Sesario softened. Not on account of the gil, although he would admit, it was nice of him to consider giving it back. The kid was desperate, scared. He was just weighing up his options - with help from a moogle, which amused him, just a little - and Rozari was one of the few places unsullied by Imperial hands. It was safer than Escander, but anywhere was.

And as if that hadn't softened him, the kid started spewing everything. His thoughts and anxieties all melded into some ugly ball of things that the boy couldn't quite comprehend, never mind Sesario in trying to follow his words. Something about not knowing how to ride a chocobo, that he was not a person, which Sesario clearly made a face at, because what was that meant to mean? And him hiding, and a problem with the couplers - the couplers? He looked at them? He thought his girl sounded okay, but--

Agh, too much!

"Alright, alright, alright," Sesario motioned for him to slow down, breathe a little. "I'm not gonna dump you in Escander," a big promise, but he couldn't exactly go back right now. "I've got, uh...business in Rozari. Don't have time to go back." No point dumping that information on him. He'd know soon enough, if he really wanted to hunker down there.

Fuck.

What would he do with him?

No, he'd have to think about that later. "I'll-We'll figure out this whole thing later. Right now, uh, we'll get you some food - what do you eat? I don't know what I have stocked...some drink maybe...no, wait, nine year olds aren't supposed to drink..." What age was he? Who was he? His mind went back to the couplers again, how the kid managed to keep them stable enough. He thought for a moment, before he told himself to slow down, and he sat down on the chair, scratching his head.

"Ok, uh...we'll introduce ourselves. You know me, Sesario. But I don't know you. What's your name?"

~

The Boy promptly shut up, almost holding his breath with the rapidity with which he stopped spewing information. It came out in relief as Sesario promised not to take him back to Escander. He had a chance, then! Even if Sesario wanted all his gil back as payment, he had a chance at a life. Even an orphanage in Rozari would be better than…well, freedom in Escander.

“I’m eleven.” Still too young to drink what Sesario had in mind, but he wasn’t a baby. He was almost a teenager!

Food wasn’t the immediate concern, not by the way Sesario took a seat. The Boy glanced at the other seat, but remained standing, a bit too awkward to presume he could sit. Besides, it wouldn’t have helped much in the height department. Standing, or sitting, Sesario dwarfed him. At least with Sesario sitting, they were closer to the same size.

Not that it helped when Sesario asked his name and his gaze lowered. “Um.”

How did you say you don’t have a name?

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “Vidar would call me Luwian when he needed to, but it wasn’t my name. It was just what he used when he was around people who wouldn’t…agree…or when he was angry.” And it was obvious it had no good memories tied to it.

But he wasn’t a name, right? He looked up, “But I’m—I’m good at fixing things! And I understand moogles, very, very, very well. That’s me,” the boldness faltered, “that is…since I can’t give you a name. Oh the moogles called me Little Ilium but that was a stupid thing,” he folded his arms over his chest, “Just a joke.”

~

Eleven...right. He was sheepish in his smile, but he was sort of proud that he was close. Kind of.

Though, the smile dropped when the boy hesitated at his question. Sesario assumed that he was still so untrusting as to not give over his name, though his expression did not brighten at his explanation. He was beginning to see that, really, the kid didn't have anything to his...well, no name. At least if you had a name, you had an identity. You could hold onto some form of yourself.

The boy was clinging onto a semblance of it.

Sesario chuckled a little at the 'Little Ilium' moniker, but not for it being childish or stupid. At least the Moogles looked out for him, tried to keep his spirits up with that. "After one of Escander's heroes," he noted. "I like it." Though, he wasn't sure if he would call him that. It fit him, but there was nothing to say they couldn't try other names first.

Because, well, a kid couldn't just go his own way without some sort of name for himself.

"We'll find somthing that fits," Sesario reassured him. "I don't want to call you 'kid' the whole time, you know?" He grinned a little. He remembered the Boy mentioned about great he was at fixing things - and the man remembered, once again, about the goddamned couplers. "Yeah, the couplers...I didn't thank you for looking at those." Understandably, given the whole situation. "So...thank you." He was thoughtful, before he asked, "Could you show me what you did with them? Not that I want to pick apart your work or anything," he added. It would be nice to see his work.

~

The Boy managed not to roll his eyes at Sesario claiming to like ‘Little Ilium’. He was being nice. The Boy was no hero, the name didn’t suit him…but it had been nice to dream, and now, he could start to work on whoever he wanted to be. Whoevere he was to become. He had his freedom, and this Sesario was going to get him to Rozari.

And help him with a name.

It was one of those weird unwritten rules in his head – and the Boy had a lot – that you could not name yourself. A name was a gift, usually from someone who gave a damn about you, but a gift all the same, and he hadn’t been gifted it. So, he couldn’t have a name.

Would a name from this guy be enough? ‘Maybe.’ It was…a good start to life, wasn’t it? A marker of the change, from the one who changed it. Maybe that was enough.

As for the couplers, The Boy nodded, “Yeah, it’s just in the cargo hold,” as if Sesario didn’t know where it was on his ship, but then again…well, he let it get in this condition so maybe he didn’t do any of the repairs or know anything. “I can show you to the panel that lifts up and the couplings.” and he would, indeed, lead the way.

“What’s the name of your ship? Did you name it?” not that The Boy was thinking about names or anything like that.

~

"Yeah, sure. I remember where they are," Sesario added. Of course he knew where the couplers were! He didn't need the kid telling him that…but he had forgotten about them. But he didn't need to admit that to the Boy. The couplers and the engine apparently spoke for themselves.

But regardless, he let the kid lead the way. And then the subject of more names cropped up, including his ship's. "She's called The Valkyrie," he said rather proudly. "I mean, you've seen her. Ship has a lot to live up to with that being her name, but I like to think that's part of the charm."

When he was a bit younger, he probably never thought much into the reason. Plucked out of the sky one day, like most things. But it stuck, and he never thought to change it.

He quite liked naming things. People, on the other hand, he had never named. That involved a lot of responsibility, now that he thought about it. There was a reason he wasn't allowed to name any kids in the family.

~

‘Yeah, she does.’ The Boy couldn’t help but frown a little at the name, because it really didn’t suit the junk. Then again, it was ambitious, and the ship could be fixed up, repainted, and all of those things, to eventually suit the name. That was the nice thing about mechanical things, they could be fixed, restored, and improved to be whatever one wanted. Humans weren’t that easy. Most didn’t get better when they were broken.

“She’s gonna need a lot of work to earn that name,” he noted as they came into the cargo hold. “I mean, she has potential. She’s not a large ship, so she can be made faster, and it looks like there’s room up front for a couple of nice lancer guns,” if he ever had the money. Lancer guns would suit the name better than other sorts, just for the aesthetic. “If–if you plan to outfit her with weapons.” He shouldn’t assume, but also…who didn’t have some sort of weapons on their ships?

Perhaps he was just too used to Escander and outlaws, though. There were probably some who didn’t prepare for battle.

Idiots.

He knelt down at the lid and lifted it out of the way, “See the couplers?” of course he did, “So, these three are going bad,” he pointed them out, “should be obvious, but they’re rusting, because you haven’t maintained them,” he probably shouldn’t be accusatory, but, “which means they’re slipping a bit, and they were pretty loose. I cleaned them up so the rust wasn’t as in the way, and tightened them up, so they’d hold on better, but they’re still not able to put out as much power as they could from their connections to the converters.” He rocked back on his heels, not even realizing he’d moved onto his toes, and folded his arms over his knees. “You can’t just buy things and not keep up with their maintenance, gears and everything get dirty and need to be cleaned just like clothes, or else you end up having to spend more and replace them, or worse, risk damaging your entire ship.”

~

Sesario couldn't help but chuckle a little at the suggestions the Boy came out with. "You know your stuff." It was not directd in a patronising way, but just with how smart he was about these kind of things. He worked on a lot of ships though, so that was probably why. Lancer guns sounded real good by the way the kid pitched them to him. "I always did think about installing weapons...but..." Never had the time. Never bothered. Just kept travelling to keep that voice happy. Meet people, learn things, and head straight onto the next spot.

Rarely did he get involved in big sky battles. But then he took routes less travelled. Maybe that's why the ship was so banged up.

His poor baby.

Sesario stood behind the Boy, leaned down as he squinted into the box and got a better look at the couplers. He let him explain, going over the state of the couplers, what he had done with them, and it was obvious he was pretty impressed by everything he was told. But he understood it too, and he did get what he meant by having to regularly keep up maintenance. Sesario had gotten lax with that kind of thing since he left that big crew. And drunk. Very drunk most of the time.

"Well, shit," Sesario rubbed the back of his neck, but he laughed a little, like a schoolboy trying to play down the situation. "Yeah, that's...definitely my fault alright." He stood up then, folding his arms. "I've got the gil tucked away. I'll look into it, get this shit fixed up. Thanks for that, kid." He smiled. Though, he wondered. Was he supposed to swear in front of the kid? But then again, he lived in Escander, so he figured that wasn't the worst thing he heard. He tapped his arm for a moment again, thoughtful.

The kid knew his stuff. His ship was pretty fucked up, all things considered. He wondered...

"Listen. I know you're a free guy and all now, but...fancy looking at some other parts of the ship?" Sesario asked, though, rushed to add, "with payment, of course. Fair pay. I could use someone to look at things on here..." Until they got to Rozari. The kid had to find his own way eventually, surely. And he wouldn't want to stay on a run-down ship with a man who bought his freedom.

~

‘Of course I do.’ That’s why Vidar hadn’t wanted to lose him. He was cheap labor, and he was good labor. He learned a lot from the moogles, of course, which made him worth keeping around, but more than that, he just had a quick mind and was very attentive to details. Still, he preened a little under the compliment.

It wasn’t often he got them, despite how good he was.

What was the use of complimenting a slave? It just gave them hope enough to ask when they might be free, or what they could do to earn money, and no one wanted a hopeful slave.

Sesario didn’t deny what was wrong with the ship, or that it was his fault. The Boy wasn’t even phased by the curse; to say he’d heard worse would almost be an understatement with how tame ‘shit’ was compared to the regular vernacular of Escander. He was also being asked to look at the ship, not demanded.

He didn’t really know what fair pay was, though. For all his attention to detail, what the going rates were escaped him since he never really saw that. “Yeah, I can do that,” there was some hesitance. The stranger probably didn’t know what fair pay was, either, actually. Maybe? “Uh, if you want me to just look at what I can before we land, I think, um. 5,000 gil is fair?” Sure? He sounded uncertain, didn’t he? Damnit. “And if you want me to look at things when we land in Rozari, 10,000,” there, that was a little more certain, no pausing, no ‘um’ nonsense. And that was where all the big stuff was, anyways! The important stuff! “I’ll even clean the ship for 2,000! Inside. Outside just another 1,000.” That was easier, but inside?

This place was a tusk-sty.

It needed so much trash picked up, so much scrubbed, brushed, dusted…that alone might fix a problem or two.

“It’ll help you in the future if you keep the place cleaner. You’ll be able to see what’s wrong easier, and notice anything out of place, you know.” Like stowaways.

~

Sesario saw his compliment hadn't gone unnoticed, and he did feel a sense of pride having gifted it to him. He almost let himself be surprised at that, but then he supposed people wouldn't tell slaves what a good job they were doing. They were there to do the dirty work their masters didn't want to do.

He wondered if the kid ever did, before he ended up where he was. He didn't want to think about it really.

As the Boy started rattling through his prices - ones he hesitated with at first - Sesario had been doing the mental acrobatics that involved counting in his head. He'd probably been charged more for less in the past. Or maybe he had been duped just a few times. But he was willing to pay the boy for whatever he wanted to do. He had the gil. Wasn't as if it would get up to walk anywhere. And he couldn't take it with him if he dropped dead any time soon.

He'd get his...18,000. Maybe a bit more. Sesario would play it by ear.

The place needed a touch up. He'd have to thank those servants one day. Cleaning and maintaining everything was a lot more hassle than he expected. And if he did keep it cleaner, he'd notice things more.

"Like stowaways?" Sesario echoed the Boy's thoughts with a chuckle. "Yeah, probably. I got a lot of stuff I still need to unpack and things that are just...here." So many things.

"You'll get your gil, kid," Sesario promised. "Seems like a fair offer to me, with the work that's in it."

~

The Boy did laugh along with the stowaway comment, since he had been thinking it himself, "Yeah, like stowaways. Don't want that happening again, right?" He'd likely not have friendly stowaways in the future, after all. Most weren't friendly. They were there to pilfer things and run off at the next stop, and they wouldn't announce they were there, fixing things.

The Boy added the 18k gil onto what he already had, and considered if that could start him a life in Rozari. Perhaps he'd ask Sesario about what it cost to live in Rozari, later. Right now, he clapped his hands together, "All right!" and then made a shooing motion, "I need space to clean," he wasn't going to ask for help.

Something told him, Sesario would be in the way, more than he'd be of any help, "If there's any room you don't want me in, tell me now, otherwise I'll get started here and work my way through the ship."

~

"I think I've had enough surprises for one day," he joked. Sesario had worse surprises though, ones he could count on both hands. The kid had not been the worst of them by far. A proper surprise, if anything, but one he didn't particularly mind.

For now, at least. The Boy was already taking charge when it came to cleaning, practically shooing him away so that he could get started. That brazenness he found himself surprised at, given how the kid had been with him. "You sure you don't want...?" Sesario would have offered, but then what was he doing that for? He was paying the kid to do it for him!

"Never mind," Sesario murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. He peered past the Boy, further down the back as if he would know what room he would be talking about. "Yeah, uh...just my room. It's the furthest door at the back of the ship." And he'd leave it at that. The kid didn't need the details about that room. "Well, uh, thanks! And have fun. I'll just, uh..." He pointed back to the cockpit, already starting to walk backwards towards it. "Keep the ship afloating." He winked and clicked his tongue.

A force of habit.

Once Sesario got back into the cockpit, he sat back in his seat again, leaning forwards to trigger some odd switches on the dashboard. Keep it afloating he would. He couldn't help but whisper into the dash, "Don't suppose you know any good names for this kid?" Letting him go without some suggestions of one didn't seem right to him. Anyway, Sesario didn't expect an answer from his head, since his questions rarely received one.

'Milo. Victor. Darius.'

Damn. This was hard. Ses didn't like any of them for the Boy.

'C...cl...le--'

The Voice. It wasn't often it spoke, and it certainly wasn't often that it sounded as broken and jumbled as it did. A suggestion for a name? Sesario doubted it, since it didn't always give straight or clear answers. He rubbed his eyes. Why did he even listen to something in his head? No, he'd think of one himself. But then again, he was thinking too long for a boy who was using him and his gil to get away from Escander...

Ilium. Something Ilium. Luca Ilium. Bruno Ilium. Heck, this was--

...Hector Ilium? It had a nice ring to it. He did chuckle a little to himself at the thought of it, leaning over and fiddling with another button on the dashboard. Hector. He'd keep it close to his chest for now. Let it sit.

The kid had to decide where he wanted to go from here.

~

The Boy began, simultaneously cleaning the ship while looking into what things he could about the upkeep it needed beyond cleaning. He eventually found some paper to start writing down everything, even though he knew he’d retain it, he wasn’t sure Sesario would. Sesario would need the information when he was gone so he could get the ship in order. ‘Assuming he’s not bullshitting about that.’

Well, the Boy wouldn’t be around to know.

Which, was starting to feel like a shame as he dug the Valkyrie out of her mess with enough cleaning solution to choke a chocobo farm. He was actually impressed Sesario had everything, until he realized much of it hadn’t been opened. Good intentions, poor executions.

Still, the Boy could see the dream beneath the layers.

He could start to see ways that the Valkyrie could not only be fixed, but improved substantially.

He started up a new piece of paper for that, making notes about all the ways it could be improved, so Sesario wasn’t thinking these were things the ship needed. ‘Of course, it does need them.’ Even the lancers! Those could end up being useful! One never knew when a pirate was going to attack, or, well, the Empire – although Sesario would need a lot more speed to deal with them.

Which was noted. Not dealing with the Empire, but speed to outrun most things, and what he could imagine fitting in the Valkyrie while keeping her aesthetic.

Eventually, the Boy did work his way to the cockpit, and he sighed a bit as he saw it. Not that he hadn’t seen it before, but he wasn’t noticing things then. He began picking up what trash there was, and started to take note on the buttons, positions, and if they all appeared to be functioning, “Any issues with the seats or the console? I’ll add it to the notes for you. I don’t want to touch the console to find out,” he knew how ships flew, but he couldn’t fly a ship.

He didn’t have that kind of training.

~

Sesario thankfully hadn't been talking to himself when the kid arrived in the cockpit. He did have his feet up on the dashboard in his thoughts...though he felt an odd compulsion to bring them down. And he couldn't help but look back at Hector at the mention of 'notes'.

"Notes? That bad, huh?" Sesario didn't need to ask. He was sure if he took a step back - or rather, a step into all the shit he had - he'd see the damage he left behind for himself. He leaned forward then to cast his eyes over the dashboard, clicking his tongue.

"Could do with replacing some of the buttons...they still work, just the actual buttons have kind of broken..." Ses sat back in his seat...which creaked. He hummed. "I've been meaning to oil that...or maybe I need to replace a part of it...oh!" He snapped his fingers. "New seat covers! I don't need them, but I guess they'd be nice." It was kind of like a wishlist the Boy was doing, right? Sort of.

"Console's not that hard to work, by the way," Sesario added, looking round at the boy again. "I mean, there's procedures and patterns, but you learn them pretty well. Should teach you how they work." Though, he realised he wouldn't be around for it. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess it's useful to know. Seeing as you're already good with the engines and all."

~

There was evidently a few things that needed fixed, and the Boy took out his notepad to start jotting them down, noting the creaking chair and the buttons. He looked at the console to try and determine which ones. He saw places where buttons belonged, or where buttons were messed up, but he wasn't certain what function they served at a glance, so he just noted multiple.

Sesario's problem to figure it out.

When he mentioned seat covers, he took out the other set of notes, and added it there, where he'd put the lancers, and other things that weren't necessary, but would be nice additions to the ship. After all, it was an ongoing project, right? And ships could be a part of someone's entire life, if they kept them up! They weren't that hard to add new parts to, or upgrades, as things got better with their technology.

He went on to mention the console, and the Boy paused as he did, seeming to offer to teach him how to work it. How to fly the ship.

'Maybe....'

He offered the two sets of notes to Sesario, before moving to the other seat. "You know, it's gonna take a while to fix these things. And spruce it up. A lot of people would probably charge you way more than it's worth since...sorry, you don't...when they see the ship they're gonna think you don't really know what's going on."

That was fair without saying he actually didn't know what was going on. "And, I was thinking...what if I don't like Rozari?" Always possible, "Maybe I could work on the ship for a bit, in exchange for seeing the rest of the continent? Or some of the islands? I'll figure out where I want to stay eventually, and in the meantime I can fix up your ship for transport, food, and board?"

Asking extra was tempting, but he refrained. He would get some gil out of this and he could tuck that away for when he was ready to leave...and maybe negotiate money for other things. Like cleaning the ship.

"If--if it's not too much of a problem. And I might like Rozari, so, then--problem solved! Well not your ship problems but I'd give you a discount when you stopped in Rozari."

Why would he do that?

"She has a lot of potential. I can see that."

~

Sesario took the notes - two sets of them? - and skimmed through the items jotted down. He sucked his teeth. It'd cost a gil or two, but then again, his girl was in dire need of repair and a tidy up. Kid did pretty good taking down all the things he did...

Though, Sesario did screw up his expression at the Boy's comment. "Yeah, yeah...least I know how to fly the thing..." Was he always this forward? But then he never liked dancing around the subject of things himself.

And anyway, what use was it in knowing how to fly it without taking care of it?

Sesario leaned back in his chair, staring at the Boy. Bold too, in asking him if he could stay. He was forgetting that this was the same kid who stowed away on his ship. He guessed he made his decision though about what he'd do with him a time ago.

"Well," Sesario clicked his tongue, shrugging, not wanting to seem as enthusiastic as he did having someone aboard with him. "It's pretty dangerous for a kid, living a life like this." He wasn't going to live out the rest of his days in piracy, what was he talking about? "And don't use Escander as your excuse. Piracy's a different ball game." Not that Sesario took it too seriously. It was a hobby, turned excuse, turned a good reason to stay away from Rozari as often as he could.

"But...yeah. Let's say you didn't like Rozari, which I'm sure you will, because it's a pretty place," he added, and to its credit, it wasn't a horrible place to look at. "I guess I could let you have a trial run on the ship. Transport, food, and board. And some sightseeing when I go off another a round-trip around the continent. And maybe," he leaned forward then, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "you might earn a little bit of extra gil on the side, if you do make this ship's potential to shine."

He still needed something on his person whenever he decided to leave.

And at some point...nah. Too early to think about retirement. That could wait.

Sesario put out his hand to the boy. "Sound good?"

~

The Boy would absolutely use Escander as an excuse, if only because the ‘you were going to abandon me there with a bag of gil’ sounded many times more dangerous than piracy. Wait, piracy?

‘And no guns? What kind of nutcase are you?’ If Sesario was going to survive, he needed some help. Didn’t pirates usually have crews, anyways? He never heard of a solo pirate before, not on airship, boat, or any other means.

But, Sesario was willing, and even the Boy could see the tease and humor in that smirk as more gil was offered to be earned. ‘Yeah, this will be easy.’ The guy was…a bit soft-hearted to be a pirate, too.

He was lucky the Boy wasn’t inclined to take advantage. Not too much, anyways. After all, he did need some gil for when he found a place to leave Sesario at and go start his own life…but he was still a kid.

He didn’t know when that was going to be, or where that was going to be, and he shouldn’t be thinking too hard about that, right? He didn’t want to just go to an orphanage and try to start a life, and his alternative was getting a job…but how well did Rozari smile upon child labor?

Probably not too well, like any decent nation.

So he kind of needed a keeper, anyways.

So, the Boy took the hand, “Sounds good,” he agreed, firm enough grip for a kid still wearing his gloves to hide wounds he’d hopefully never have again. “I’m not too worried. If you can get by as a pirate in this ship right now, I think we’ll be okay. Especially when I get her all fixed up,” he couldn’t help but grin.

It was exciting, in a way. Freedom!

This was his choice to be here.

It’d be his choice to leave, too.

“Thanks,” he said, letting go, “I mean, thanks for all of…this anyways, but…thanks for taking me on. I promise I’ll do a good job on her. I kinda want to see what she can be – that’s why there’s that second set of notes. Those are the not-needs, just…extras.”

He leaned back a bit in his seat, “Um. I did also take…a bit of food from your kitchen area when I was cleaning it…sorry.” But now he was on the crew so that was expected, right? Still, he’d done it before that, so he confessed.

At least he wasn’t worried about getting hit for it, but he still did look down.

~

To Sesario's delight, the Boy shook his hand. Good grip, but then a mechanic like him needed a strong grip and steady hands for the kind of work he did. "I've been told I'm lucky. Very lucky," he chuckled. There certainly were times he made it out by the skin of his teeth, and he always put it down to that strange luck of his. "And I guess I'll be even luckier to have you fixing up this ship."

Sesario pulled his own hand back as the Boy let go, and aspired to what this beat-up old thing could be. He smiled a little at that. Not many in his position still held onto a spark like he had right now. He'd make sure to keep it going for as long as he could. "Sure, kid. We'll start with the basics, see where we go from there. We can add on as we go on."

He did raise his brow at the 'take' part that the Boy led with. Sesario wasn't sure why he thought it'd be worse than he expected it too - but then again, this was a kid he just met, not exactly an old friend. But it was food, one of the few things most normally took for granted. And he remembered he was going to offer him some. As much as it was just taking. "I can't exactly blame you for that," he sighed. "You must be starving." Definitely not the picture of a well-fed boy, no matter how nicely he was dressed up.

Escander really did get away with too much,

"It's fine," Sesario reassured him again. "Doesn't matter now anyway, seeing as you're gonna be around here for awhile. Guess it's good practice if we ever do go and steal stuff though..." He mused. But he hoped not to get the Boy involved in the thick of it. Unless he wanted to later.

A talk for another time.

"Anyway, you need a whole load of other things," Sesario stood, nodding outside of the cockpit. "I'm sure you saw, but there's plenty of beds for you to choose from. I've got some spare sheets packed away that you can use." Somewhere. He'd find them. Or the kid would find them at least. "And we'll find you some good clothes when we get to Rozari. Practical, with some flair."

Upper echelons had more flair, but somehow even those who weren't as well off had something decent on them.

~

‘You won me, so….’ There was clearly some luck involved in the way Sesario lived his life. The Boy intended to make it so he needed less of it, though. At least…for the while he stuck around. Which totally wouldn’t be for long. Just long enough to get himself stable and figure out what he wanted out of life. What he liked.

Who he was.

At least he was forgiven for stealing the food. “Heh. Still. I’ll…try not to steal from you, but…,” yeah, he was hungry, there was no denying that. And clothes, “I…I can buy my own, when we get to Rozari,” he said, “I didn’t have time to run back to get…well…I didn’t have anything,” it wouldn’t have been given to him, even if Vidar had no one who fit into it.

It didn’t matter.

“If you can just show me a few shops when we get there, I’ll find some things,” he had the gil, Sesario hadn’t asked for it back. Flair, though. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Would he like flair when he wasn’t forced into it? Maybe Rozari’s flare would be different enough to be liked.

~

"Yeah...appreciate you not stealing any more," Sesario chuckled a little. He was a little too trusting of the boy, he'd admit. But he was one of the few who took pity on kids like him.

He deserved his freedom. Everyone deserved at least a fraction of it.

Sesario nodded at the boy, who was insistent on buying his own clothing. "Sure. I know a few good places. You'll have your pick of whatever's there." The kid still had his gil after all, and it was a chance for the kid to make some choices for himself, to own something. Himself, an identity, for once.

"Listen," Sesario put his hands on his knees, leaned towards him, "I don't want to just call you 'kid' or 'boy' while you're with me. And I doubt you want me to call you 'Little Ilium' all the time either," he chuckled. "So, I thought of some names and uh," why was it so hard to get it out? Did he really feel for the kid that much? "I think Hector is a good name. It means 'steadfast' or 'holdfast'. You don't have to take it, or keep it if you leave, but you at least deserve a name to go by." If he left. Not when.

~

The Boy was grateful when Sesario allowed him that little bit of freedom to go buy his own clothes. Soon he’d buy his own food. His own sheets. He’d make up a room for himself. ‘If.’ If he stayed.

If he left.

If.

The Boy wasn’t quite sure what the feeling was that swelled at that word ‘if’. It was like a promise that this staying, too, was also his choice. There wasn’t a when he’d be forced off the ship, just an…if.

He wanted to cry, but that was stupid. He wasn’t sad. So he chuckled and shook his head about the Little Ilium remark, “Please don’t,” that was reserved for the moogles, and he’d find a way to make it up to them for all the years of dreaming now that he was…he was living.

He was living, and he was, “Hector,” he repeated. It wasn’t very flowery like a Rozari name, or what he expected of them. It had an edge, something sharp to it. Something he liked. ‘And a name is a gift.’ This was a gift he liked. But how did you thank someone for a name? People just…got names. And the pirate put thought into it. Not just some name that sprung to mind, it had meaning.

A meaning he was already associating with the Bo—Hector.

Steadfast? ‘Stubborn.’ Still…, “Yeah.” He said, nodding, “Yeah. I like it. I like Hector.” He could grow into a Hector. “It’s a lot better than Luwian,” that wasn’t sharp at all. It was wobbly, and far from strong. Loose.

He would be steadfast. Stubborn. Strong. With an edge. “I’ll grow into it.” He was beaming, not quite realizing it. “Thanks—thank you!” He said he wouldn’t hug him, a thousand times in his head, but there he was, off his seat, and wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders since he’d leaned forward.

He caught himself soon enough and quickly broke, startled and, still, afraid of his own warmth – of trusting it to be seen. “I’ll – I’ll go fix up a bed! And set up a space!” and run out of the cockpit.

~

Sesario waited in quiet anticipation as Hec--ah, well, still the Boy--tested the name for himself. He wanted him to like it. He'd really like it if he liked it. It just felt right to him - and he was already calling him Hector.

And he felt his smile grow wide as the kid confirmed how much he liked it. "I think so too. I think it suits you well." Hector. Hector. He felt rather proud of it, something he hadn't felt for a long while now, and it pleased him to see how happy the kid was about getting his own name.

There was an innocence in that which Sesario took for granted.

What he hadn't expected was Hector to be so happy about it. He practically rushed him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, thanking him for it as if he had gifted him the world. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised by this gratefulness. But he knew it felt good to see Hector so happy. To have done some good for him.

By the time Sesario had gotten over his hesitation, of being unsure of whether to hug him or not, Hector had pulled back. Sesario tried not to look so surprised at him, forcing a smile at the kid before he ran off, insisting he needed to set up his own space.

And when he left the cockpit, he exhaled, not noticing he had been holding his breath the whole time. He felt a strange warmth in himself - a different one, perhaps, of a fire that hadn't been stoked for a long time. Someone else to care about.

Sesario sat back in his chair, sighing again. Sesario tried not to let the flames rise too high. He just met the kid. He was helping him out, that was all. Pulling him out of a bad situation. But regardless of what it was that Sesario tried to swallow, he knew he would help the kid wherever he needed him. He'd try to do good by him.

He would try for him.

 

[Arcanist]

Zariel Arkidos, 7, Lixue Virys, 9, Oleander Arkidos, 4: Children of the Gods​

This had been the fifth time his mother rearranged the neck tie. Lixue had not touched it as requested and yet, she still managed to find another way to style the strings. He stood dutifully as his mother finished tying it and as she moved to straighten his shirt and dust off his shorts. It did not make the time waiting for someone to take them to the future empress move any faster.

“Darling, do try not to look so sullen.”

Their mother tongue - what was now Lixue’s second language and his forebears’ first - caught quick and sharp in his ears. The contempt and impatience was clear in the boy’s face at his mother’s observation. Of course she would have been quick to point it out, like many of the other criticisms he heard her dish out daily. “I feel like a performing moogle,” he mumbled.

“None of that now, Lixue,” Mama Virys reprimanded, tone sharp like the point of a dagger. “Tell me again. How do you address your future empress?”

“Your Imperial Highness,” Lixue answered in the more common language of Ivocia without hesitation, as he had all week when he was quizzed on it. “Must I call her that every time I address her?” He asked as he switched back, and he sighed when she nodded, already exhausted by the notion.

“Unless she states otherwise,” his mother glanced up at him over her glasses. Lixue’s eyes were pinned elsewhere, on a book, wrapped with a red bow, that sat on the small table in the room they waited in. His mother suggested, or rather, told her son, that it would make a nice gift for. Like this girl would want some book with stories of the Zodiacs with his notes scribbled in the margins.

“Lixue. Look at me.”

The boy pulled his gaze from the book to his mother below him. She still had that sharp, stoic expression about her, and a seriousness that was undeniable in her words to him. He felt firm hands go to his shoulders.

“Remember what I have told you. Manners. Politeness. Not a foot out of place. You will be serving Her Imperial Highness Zariel not only for the Empire, but for the Zodiac as well. You must make a good impression upon her.”

Lixue made a face. He hated being told what he must do, how he must act. Do this, say that, glory to the Empire. Did he not have a choice in any of this? In his childish insolence, he protested. “I don’t want to serve her, and I don’t want to be marked!”

The Lady Virys inhaled deeply, rising to her feet. His mother lost his patience before, but never in an explosive way as others were prone to. Hers was a quiet fury that loomed over others, like she did with him now. “Shall I go and tell them then, that my son has refused the fine hospitality the Imperial family has offered him? That he is so disrespectful, he would rather besmirch his own name and walk in shame out of this palace? When others would do anything to be in your position?”

‘Like Yenay?’ He would happily give it all to her. She vied for the attention Lixue did not appreciate getting. He just wanted to be left alone.

Lixue looked down, attempting to seem humble. It would be no use fighting here, to cause a scene. He knew that as much as he wanted to do it. “No, mama,” he whispered. He felt two hands go to his cheeks, lifting his face up to his mother’s that loomed above him.

“I do this for you, because I want the very best for you,” she explained, and Lixue could have sworn he saw a fraction of maternal care in her expression. “The Zodiac have given both of you an important task because of the potential you both have. You must not waste that.”

How Shiva could have known a baby had potential baffled Lixue, but he chose not to question it here.

The door opened and a guard entered, a quick bow of courtesy afforded to both himself and his mother. “Her Imperial Highness will see you now, Lord Lixue, if you will allow me to escort you.”

As fiercely independent as Lixue wanted to assume he was, he cautioned a glance to Mama Virys nonetheless. She handed him the book with a reassurance.

“Go. I will be here when you are finished.”

Lixue hugged the book close to his chest and nodded. He was silent then as he walked to the guard, and after, alongside him as he was guided towards where the daughter of the Emperor waited for him.

The future Empress of Amarum, and truly, of Hyune, was a mere seven years old the day she was supposed to meet Lord Lixue Virys, the chosen of Aquarius, and son of Lady Virys. Zariel had met Lady Virys a few times, enough to appreciate her presence more than she appreciated that of her own mother.

The young princess would have appreciated it then as she fretted in front of the mirror, gold and red sparkles on her fingertips and over her cheeks. She’d messed up the lines again as she tried to trace the image of a phoenix on her cheek between the dots, even if that wasn’t the symbol that Leo actually made. ‘Leo. Lion. The Sleeping Lion, the first to wake, because that’s Phoenix’s guardian and so his symbol.’ The roar that would shake the galaxy, the roar that made Phoenix rise – because Phoenix always rose.

“Mother?” tentative, hesitant, the young girl looked up with her bright eyes towards the woman, “Can you help, please? You’re so much better at artistic things and I don’t want to make a bad impression on the Virys family.”

There was no love in her mother’s gaze. There never was, and Zariel did not understand why it was all reserved for Oleander, who was not there. Oleander had gone to play, likely by hitting other people with sticks. ‘He should be here, too.’ Perhaps then her mother would look at her softer? “You need to learn to do things yourself, Zariel,” harsh. Bitter. “You’re going to be an Empress. If you can’t figure something as simple as make-up out, you’ll be a poor one.”

Zariel refused to let her eyes lower or to even flinch. This wasn’t abnormal. “I know,” she pursed her lips together briefly, “I just need instruction.”

Bellona huffed a sigh but rose and walked to where Zariel was, gripping the side of her face without the mark tight, before grabbing a nearby cloth and wiping at the glittery stains on the other, erasing them all until only a few sparkles remained – it was always impossible to remove all of the glitter. It was harsh, and Zariel couldn’t help but squirm, though otherwise she remained steady.

“There.” Bellona rose and tossed the cloth aside, walking back to her lounge, “It’s fixed.”

It was not fixed, it was just gone, and Zariel looked at the mirror despondently as now her cheek was just violently pink from the removal. “It’s not!” she protested.

“You shouldn’t be drawing attention to it anyways. It’s ugly,” her mother said, “you’re not making it any better with that makeup, either. You should be concealing it.”

“Concealing the mark of Leo?” That sounded blasphemous. She paused, though, wondered if it really was ugly. She touched one of the false-stars on her face, before the door opened and Lavi entered.

“Zariel,” he greeted her with a smile, that faltered, “Are you okay?” his gaze went accusingly towards Bellona, who pointedly ignored him and his entire presence.

Her face was still pink, but that would fade away in time. Though, when she drew her hand away from the little star, she noticed the glitter it left behind. ‘Ugh!’ No, there was no winning here. Least she could do was make it intentional. “Yes, father! I’m almost ready!” She dipped her finger in more glitter, and just swept it over her cheek, making the entire cheek a mess of red and gold.

Fine! She could do this! “Mother was just helping me come up with ideas and I had to redo this several times, but she helped. Thank you!” She cast her a bright smile, but was only met with a withering look that even Lavi couldn’t ignore.

It didn’t matter, now was hardly the time for a scene.

Perhaps he thought Zariel was ignorant of Bellona’s hatred. Ignorant that any help wasn’t sincere. Whatever the case, he took Zariel’s hand and led her out of the room, “Shouldn’t Oleander be here, too? He’s also marked,” she made sure to ask that before they left, so Bellona would hear.

Couldn’t Bellona see she wasn’t an enemy? That she cared for Oleander, too? Couldn’t some of her love pass on for that alone?

Lavi chuckled and shook his head, “Oleander isn’t going to be Emperor, Zariel,” he reminded, “and he doesn’t care about these political things. He’s an active boy, but not a smart one.”

‘He’s four.’

“Let him play, and he’ll grow into a fine warrior for you, one day.”

For her. Never with her. He spoke of Oleander almost as if he wasn’t a son. As if he wasn’t Zariel’s brother, worthy of knowing all that was going on, too. “Okay,” she just sighed, and her father gave her that little smile. Endeared, but exasperated. He was always exasperated. Always exhausted.

And always disappointed.

That Phoenix hadn’t manifested was a disappointment. Advisors suggested when she hit puberty, maybe. Or adulthood. Or, or, or.

Leander left not hints.

She was led to the familiar throne room for the formal visit, guards present in the corners, and Lavi stayed, talked a bit with the guards. She listened, already bored of waiting, so when the doors opened again to reveal a lone Lord Lixue sans his mother, she was at least relieved of her boredom.

And her curiosity peaked to see him alone.

“Lord Lixue!” Her father cried in joy, with that terrible amusement he reserved for children beneath him…every child that wasn’t Zariel, really, “Here all alone already? You are becoming so independent.” Mocking them in a way he thought they wouldn’t understand, in a way meant to be seen as complimentary.

He wasn’t good at it. “Is your Lady Mother well?”

As he asked, Zariel drew away from the throne and walked down the gilded carpet, casting her bright gaze up to Lavi, “Father, may we have the room?” the boy had a book, no doubt a gift. They always came with gifts. Tedious.

He chuckled, “Of course, of course, this is for you two and whatever the Gods have in store, I’m just the facilitator. Give your mother my best, Lord Lixue,” still that terrible mocking tone, but Zariel kept her smile on through it, as if she didn’t notice how her father was acting and how irritating it was.

The guard that escorted Lixue did not attempt to make conversation with him, and Lixue did not attempt conversation with him. What would they converse about, he wondered, if he tried? Something trivial no doubt. He could not face being asked about the weather, or his studies, or his favourite food flavour in all the world. He liked harder questions, enjoyed being challenged.

His eyes instead traced along the reds and golds that lined the walls and floors of the palace hallways. He was used to wealth in all its forms - but the regalia was still grand enough to overwhelm a child such as him. Everything was bright and the ceilings seemed to aim towards the stars themselves. Desperate for answers as he was sure everyone was.

When will Phoenix rise? Why has Phoenix not risen? Why hadn’t Emperor Leander left anything useful behind for them to find?

Similar to his own questions about Shiva.

But then that all seemed too easy. Twelve forbid ensuring the safety of this world was going to be easy.

His meandering thoughts eventually carried him to a large set of doors, that quickly opened without prior warning. The guard urged him to enter, and with little time to prepare himself, he simply had to do it as he entered.

Emperor Lavi was there, alongside his daughter, the princess, the future Empress as he heard so many times. He gave a deep bow to them both, as painstakingly rehearsed, before straightening up again at Lavi’s address to him. He tried not to cringe at the man’s tone, the way it hurt his ears. He tried to practice keeping his expression placid, but he fixated on the question of why adults spoke to him like he was stupid.

He understood now why his mother let him come here on his own. But then he should have known before he came here. He heard her criticisms of him when she thought he wasn’t listening.

“Thank you…Your Imperial Majesty.” Lixue thought he sounded stilted when he answered him. He hoped he wasn’t going to stay. The thought of Lavi standing over them both, making his comments and watching them made his chest tighten. His eyes moved to Zariel as she moved away from the throne as the question of his mother was posed to him. He didn’t get to answer as Zariel had asked for the room to themselves, to the young Lixue’s relief.

His lips twitched at Lavi’s insistence he passed on his good will to his mother. He would have thought it was an attempt at a smile, but he would have been lying to himself. Patience wore thin on the boy. Something else he got from his mother. “Of course, Emperor Lavi.” He attempted politeness once more. He didn't know how Zariel managed to smile her way through it.

Lixue was still as Lavi finally left, leaving both him and Zariel in the throne room. It was only then that he noticed the red and gold glitter smeared across her cheek, where the mark of Leo was. It certainly stood out…but it reminded him of how his youngest sister got into their mother's makeup and covered her cheeks in the brightest red blush she could find.

The application could have been better.

Lixue soon realised he was staring, and he looked down to the book still clutched to his chest. "Um," he started before thrusting the book out to her, "for you. Your Imperial Highness." He rushed to add for good measure, though, he already found himself stumbling. No amount of practicing ever seemed to make this amount of talking easier.

The sooner this was done…

"It's a book with all the stories of the Zodiac. I thought it might be nice for you to have." 'Or my mother did.' He thought ruefully. Did he really have to give it up? And with everything he wrote down in it?

"Oh, and I wrote some things down in it." Lixue thought it best to warn her, should she open it to find the scribbles. Not exactly the best gift if there were already things written in it but… "Just notes about things I found interesting…"

Zariel took note of how stilted Lixue was as he addressed Lavi. How practiced it was, how strained his expression, before he stumbled over himself in speaking to her and offering the book, which she accepted. She also noticed where he looked, and for too long. Of course, it made her self-conscious, but she would not dare to allow that to be known.

‘You need him.’

In theory, she already had Lixue. His family was famously loyal to the Imperial family, but just as Lixue couldn’t avoid staring, she couldn’t avoid noticing the stiffness, and the fact none of this was genuine. Which meant the loyalty wouldn’t be genuine.

She gave the book a cursory look, because that was polite. She already had this book. She had all the books on the Zodiac, because of course she did, she was the Chosen One, and she had to learn everything to figure out how to save the world. The only difference was this one had his personal notes, and his personal findings.

Truly, his book, then.

She kept her gaze on the book as she asked him, “Did you write the notes for me, or for yourself, Lord Lixue?” she had been told that sometimes her look could be too much when she was seeking information. Burnt as bright as the sun. Perhaps it was a pretty compliment, a pretty lie, but she had noticed the way some people, even adults, flinched when she looked at them a certain way. So, she kept her eyes on the book, studying it, as if there really was more to the cover than the title and the color.

'Don't lie, please.'

Lixue watched Zariel inspect the front of the book. Her look lingered too long. It dawned on him that she would have had a whole library’s worth of stories and research on the Zodiac. She probably owned that book. Hardly a thoughtful gift, was it? But then what else would he have brought a princess who could have anything she asked for in the palm of her hand?

Answers, maybe. Like he wanted, but a gift he couldn’t provide.

Then came the question. Did he do it to flatter her? To impress her? Was this a test to confirm some unwavering devotion to her and to his duty? He was not to set a foot out of place. He could stand here and flounder under the mask he tried to hold up. He could try and play the game everyone else tried to play, like he had to learn to play.

But he approached games so differently from everyone else.

“Myself,” Lixue finally answered. “I was just told to read and study books like these. If I was aware I had to show you my notes, I would have at least organised them into something clearer for you.” He felt a strange attachment to those personal reflections, like scholars had for their tomes and scrolls. But this was raw knowledge. His knowledge that he created. Patterns and theories he lost himself in, a maze that could lead him closer to the secrets of the Zodiac.

Or to a dead end. But that only meant more time to explore that maze.

‘So I will find you in here.’ Zariel knew how precious that was even at such a tender age. After all, politics was a game of hiding parts of oneself to be appealing to the masses. Zariel knew that, without it ever being said. So what was Lixue hiding in his honesty? “Hmm.” She dusted the cover with her fingers, turned from him, and went to the throne. “I’ll copy the notes and return it to you when I’m done. We can talk about it.”

Who was she to pass up a chance to know the way his mind worked? She would give it back, though. Only his notes were of interest to her; they’d be honest, findings he never meant her to see, which meant they might be useful.

She set the book on the throne, where it would be safe, before bounding back down to where he was. They were definitely supposed to stay in the Throne Room, but she had other plans, “Come with me,” an order, of course, but she lowered her voice to say, “I don’t want to talk in here,” conspiratorial, perhaps? Definitely. “And I want to hear all about Scorpio. The truth about Scorpio.” Not that the books lied, but...there was something to the way other people interpreted it around her, when Lavi was there, or when Lavi sent them.

And they were always sent by Lavi.

That brightness was in her eyes, the flames dancing with hope that he’d come along – and tell her all about Scorpio. First, he had to agree. Then, she just had to pick the right guard to get by, which wasn’t hard. She knew them all.

He watched Zariel stare for longer at that book, and he felt that childish urge to snatch it off her. If she wasn't really going to appreciate it - not that he intended to impress her with those anyway - he would happily take it back off her hands.

Though, it seemed he did not give Zariel the credit. She would keep it, study his notes before she would return it. He wondered what criticisms she would have of them, if he left any theories behind that he debunked long ago. Those notes of his made him vulnerable, dictated how useful he was.

But it was not as if he could refuse. Lixue did not have that privilege. So he bit on his cheek before answering, “Of course. Thank you, your highness.” He imagined it would be some time before he got that book back. By then, he was sure it would hate half the notes in there, and fill his head with brand new ideas.

Lixue did narrow his eyes at the order that was given, but even more so at her desire to know all there was to know about Scorpio. “Scorpio?” He whispered, blinking. Oleander was Scorpio, her brother. And she was Leo. She would have known everything - at least, what she could know - about all the Zodiac. Why would she need him to explain anything about Scorpio? He could not ask that here. Not with the guards and their eyes that they did not look with, but still saw all, and their ears that they did not listen with, but still heard all.

Lixue’s gaze moved to the side, careful not to be obvious. He was curious. And he still held the rebelliousness in him that started when he protested about being here.

“Alright,” he gave a slight nod, voice also low in their upcoming conspiracy, “I’ll follow along. Do you have a plan?” Lixue hoped so. He would get pathetically lost in these hallways, never mind struggle with trying to escape the confines of the throne room.

‘You don’t like this, either.’ Zariel could see it in his begrudging acceptance of her taking the book, and the title. She had to accept that, of course. And she did, easily enough. It washed over her as if it wasn’t even said, because that was normal. She was the future Empress, and despite everything, she did know it, and the benefits it entailed.

Which meant her plan didn’t have to amount to much at all, as she let her lips quirk in a grin at his question. He was willing enough to go along with this part of things. “Just agree with me, and press if needed.” It shouldn’t be needed, really.

Zariel walked from him, though made a small gesture with her hand for him to follow as she walked to the back of the room, where a guard was positioned near one of the exits that was not, in fact, terribly obvious. It blended in, but the guards knew of them anyways. Hidden passages were not meant for children.

“Your Imperial Highness, is there something you need?” the guard asked, looking doubtful.

She beamed up at him, “Yes,” she answered, recognizing she could not, in fact, tell him her plan, she said instead, “We need to go to the library. I forgot to bring Lord Lixue a book – we had the same idea,” her smile became a little sheepish, “Can we go to the library?”

“If you tell me the name of the book, I can grab it for you instead.”

She pursed her lips together and looked down, “I don’t remember the name of it,” she looked back up quickly, “but I’d know it if I saw the cover. I know about where it is! Please, Daniel?” she clasped her hands together, “I’ll be quick, I promise!”

“The last time you said that, you almost got me in trouble.”

“But I didn’t!”

He sighed, smiled, glanced around, “Okay, okay – I’ll take you two to the library.”

“Thank you~,” sing-song, sweet, as he opened the panel. The other guards did look, and did notice, but none moved to question him or stop him.

Daniel was, as Zariel knew, the senior member of this group of guards.

Lixue clocked the signal, and followed behind her. Many would worry about looking guilty in this moment, but Lixue practiced passivity in his expression. Guilt was not something he felt in the moment. He didn't see why either of them should be forced to stay here. Especially if they were chosen by the gods.

That excuse never worked on his family when he wanted to do something, as much as he loathed the idea of such responsibility.

Lixue stayed silent during the exchange. The princess had done this before. Her words were sweet and innocent, her behaviour fascinatingly manipulative. Or perhaps the guards were naive enough to think a little girl wouldn't deceive them.

That she was smart enough.

And sure enough, Daniel buckled in the end. He moved to touch a part of the wall Lixue had found odd of him to be guarding, but quickly understood the purpose of it. Of course this palace had secret little doors like this! It was perfect hiding spot. Also a good way to escape in an emergency. And now, it was perfect for their little scheme.

Daniel led them through the confines of the dimmed secret passageway, not terribly tight for children, but their guide was a little more careful leading them through it. His eyes moved between Daniel and Zariel, silent. He did not expect either himself or Zariel would give the game away, but there was no harm in exercising caution. Best not to raise eyebrows.

He was naturally quiet too, which helped.

They manouvered with several rights and lefts that Lixue attempted to count and keep in his head, before Daniel opened another panel. It moved with much more effort, like a panel that had to be dragged across. When they stepped through, they were faced with ceiling-high bookcases. Lixue glanced behind him, finding the panel was actually one of the connecting bookcases. He would have admired its ingeniuety had Daniel not urged them onward.

"Quickly now. I'm sure you both still have much to talk about after all."

Zariel didn’t actually need to keep track of where they were going. She knew the route to the library, and several other places in the palace. It was why Lavi had to position guards there, not that it ever worked. Despite everyone knowing she was Leo, despite everyone knowing what Leo meant, they never suspected the sweet little Princess of being the commanding leader that Leo was born to be.

Because, of course, who could call this commanding when she looked innocent and sheepish?

Zariel knew what she was doing, and was glad Lixue played along, silent as they moved, and silent as they exited into the library. “Thank you!” she said again as she stepped out into the light, “we’ll be quick!” though Daniel likely planned to follow, Zariel sprinted and hoped Lixue followed.

The maze of books was another one she had memorized to get to yet another passage, this one unguarded, because there was no reason to have it guarded right then. In the future, Zariel would have every passage guarded. Not obviously, but there would always be a guard able to see it. She wouldn’t forget her own escapades.

Into the passage she went, this one not involving an entire bookshelf, but a sconce that served as the lock to the wall it was upon. A simple turn and the wall opened to her, allowing her to slide in, and let Lixue slide in as well, before she’d shut it on them both and let out a sigh, walking on ahead.

Daniel still knew the passages and would check them. Better to be further down by then. “They’re not really hard to get by. It doesn’t help father’s instructions are often contradictory with how they should treat my demands.” It helped her plenty. She looked back at Lixue, “Now, Scorpio? I want to hear what you have to say about Scorpio, and Ixion,” and Oleander himself, but she wouldn’t ask that directly.

First things first, to see if his words differed from the interpretations of others.

Zariel wasted no time in making her next move. She gave her innocent thanks to Daniel before she bolted off furhter into the library. Oh, they would be quick, Lixue imagined. Quick in making their escape out of here.

"Y-yes, thank you!" He gave his own hurried thanks before he rushed after Zariel. He was sure they would be followed, hence the way Zariel weavd in and out of the roows of bookshelves. She had already memorised each turn she needed to take to get to their destination. Any wonder the guards were posted by all these secret little exits. Though, they never seemed smart enough to predict when Zariel would try to make use of them.

As they arrived at another passageway, and she operated the sconce, Lixue peered over his shoulder and back to Zariel in quick succession. He silently urged her to hurry and get this thing open so that they weren't caught. Though, it was still a thrilling experience, being on the precipice of being caught. Zariel, however, was rather relaxed, even as the wall opened another passageway for them. She slipped through first and Lixue did not hesitate to follow before Zariel shut it behind them.

Lixue let slip a quiet exhale, only realising how hard his heart drummed against his chest. Zariel seemed unphased by the whole thing. Were the guards really so bad as to let Zariel get away with whatever she wanted, to the point where she was this brave and bold? Apparently so, by the way she spoke so casually of it.

No, he would reserve his criticisms. It had gotten them out of that throne room and spared any political pleasantries he was forced to perform.

The guards' incompetence did not remain a focal point for long. She was desperate to hear more about Scorpio and Ixion. Lixue was silent for a moment as he followed, eyes narrowed in thought. He would give her all that he knew - that he thought - about the Zodiac.

For an answer.

"Why is it so important that it must come from me? I would have thought the princess with the mark of Leo would know something about Scorpio already." Lixue's questioning was bold. Perhaps not very indicative of his lower position to Zariel, but he would chance it.

Zariel would have to earn loyalty and respect before she could demand it, at least with an answer he found satisfactory.

‘You’re mocking me.’ Zariel’s own eyes narrowed a moment on the boy who questioned her. This was…new. People didn’t really question her. People didn’t demand things from her. Not even Lavi, really. And this boy was only a year or two older, wasn’t he? Stick-thin and fragile. ‘Aquarius.’

Did he speak so because the eyes and ears were away? Because he considered himself on par with her, as a chosen of the god?

‘Intelligent. Independent. Like air they defy categorization, and their symbol makes one think of water, as does Shiva, but they do not conform like water. Eccentrics.’

No, if what the scholars said of Aquarius was correct, then this was a show of who he was, what she would see of him when she read his thoughts in the book – a mind guided not by others, but by himself. No, he wasn’t mocking, although she didn’t like ‘Princess of Leo’ one bit. “I’m not Princess with the mark of Leo, I am Leo,” Zariel snipped, folding her arms over her chest, “I’m Princess of Amarum.”

Being huffy wouldn’t get her anywhere, though. That was the negative trait of Leo. Arrogance. Vanity. Haughtiness. Didn’t mean it wasn’t still a fight to lessen it and humble herself, and she tried then, blowing out air through her lips and shutting her eyes, counting back. Breathing in deep. Exhaling softer.

Fire and tempers went hand in hand.

She opened her eyes, “I want to know because no one is telling me the truth.” She said, “I read it in the books, but then all my scholars interpret it…weirdly, when I ask questions. Or they dismiss it, because he’s—because Scorpio is a water sign and he’ll conform to whatever I need or demand, and I shouldn’t worry my head over it.”

But that wasn’t it.

Scorpio was lightning. Scorpio was ambitious and controlling, a promised clash, not a promised union. Scorpio was known for having passions as volatile as the fire signs!

“I think my mother is more on the right track,” which was bitter to say, especially, “she says Scorpio is dangerous and I should keep my distance, but…,” but she said the same thing to Oleander, about her. She’d heard it – that Oleander was being taught to fear her and feel threatened by her, and Lavi wasn’t doing anything! Lavi said she didn’t need to worry about Oleander, because Oleander was just a conforming water sign!

Wouldn’t he conform to Bellona’s whispers?

Lixue eyed Zariel, a girl determined and assured that she was Leo. He bit down on his tongue, bottled the scoff that threatened to slip. She was as much Leo as he was Aqaurius. They would never be their gods. Merely tools and weapons for them to wield because they did not have their full power.

He wondered if Shiva was so appreciative of his pessimism.

But he would not push that thinking onto the princess. Fire signs were haughty, temperamental creatures. He knew that Zariel knew that as he watched her regain her composure. Lixue, knowing whose domain he was born under, was stubborn to change, stubborn to conform. He was different from everyone, not in the way of being marked, but in his thinking. It was extreme and unconforming.

Perhaps he did not give Shiva enough credit. He was as strange as Aqaurius was, as she could be in those stories.

But he liked being that way, with his strange way of thinking.

And he was learning that was what Zariel needed.

“People say what they want others to hear,” Lixue told her, having observed this practice many times before, and would observe many times after their conversation. “I suppose your mother is right. Scorpio’s venomous sting is a weapon they use in getting what they want. Control is something that Scorpio craves.”

Not what a future Empress would hope to hear. Wouldn't she rather hear that than lies from boot-lickers? And wasn’t there a darkness in all of them, that no one was allowed to bear witness to?

“That being said,” Lixue added, “Scorpio can be loyal to those they can trust and connect with. They are war-like and aggressive, and a vicious, rolling storm that looms overhead. You cannot control it, but you can learn to direct the worst of that storm in another direction. Keep Scorpio’s secrets and they’ll protect yours.”

‘I know that.’ Zariel knew that very well, which was why she suspected her mother was the only one being any bit truthful, because she never told Zariel what she wanted to hear. Somehow, that translated to truth, when surrounded by bootlickers, which almost made her lift her hand to scrub at the make-up on her cheek.

She clenched that hand into a fist instead.

It was fine.

She would make it fine.

Lixue’s words matched up more with Bellona, but also more of what she had read, before it was all filtered through the scholars. Control was not something Zariel would give. It was in her power to, but not only did she not want to, she also knew what it would mean for the morale of Amarum. She’d been born as their guiding light, after all. She couldn’t step away from that, it would be a catastrophe, even if she was still going to be serving Amarum, just under a younger brother.

A younger brother that she did need to know. “You understand,” both the lie, and what Zariel sought in asking. “So you understand I also want your loyalty, and I know I don’t have it. I saw you flinch as I said I’d take the book to study. I won’t be reversing that.” Obviously. “It was your mother’s idea.” It wasn’t his father’s, and she didn’t know his sisters really, but she knew his mother. “You don’t even want to be around me, do you?”

No one did. Not really. Isn’t that what Bellona said? They were just forced to.

Clever. Zariel could read him, at least. But then he never sought to hide anything by wearing his strange little heart on his sleeve. Lixue did not hide knowledge about Scorpio, her brother, and what he thought needed to be done to keep him under her foot. He also would not hide that he didn't want to be here or that he didn't want something of his being taken to be used by others. Of course it was his mother's idea. It was always someone else's idea.

There was a childish thought in him, that if he complained, protested, rebelled just enough, Shiva would change her mind and choose another to take his place in this. No such luck so far. She clearly liked him too much to do that. Or maybe she couldn't leave him and that was the problem.

Lixue hadn't turned to look at her. "No. Not really," he answered bluntly. Was there any point in hiding himself when Zariel had exposed him so effortlessly? When no one was around to criticise his behaviour? Though, he wasn't so crass as to leave his answer there. "But my reasoning isn't exclusive to you."

He should have led with that. He did not despise her, even if he came off so aloof. Lixue was no social butterfly and he could accept that, but others could not. He sighed. "I just don't want to be doing any of this. I'm bound to a task I didn't ask to do. I study so earnestly because that is what's expected of me. Because it's what I was born to do. And when I try to study it my way, I'm considered an outlandish blasphemer. Forgive me if I'm possessive over that."

He wasn't given a choice who to be in all of this.

And that was what irritated him the most in being Aqaurius.

Knowing didn’t make it hurt less. That was something Zariel was intimately familiar with. All it did, was make it easier not to flinch, and so she didn’t when Lixue confessed to not wanting to be there. That temper that wanted to flare and shove him through one of the passage exits where he’d be hopelessly lost was easy to keep down.

She was not a tyrant.

She would not be a tyrant.

Lixue did elaborate. It did little to stop the initial pang, but Zariel heard it. “There’s nothing to forgive,” there was nothing forgiven, “So you like studying,” Zariel said, shifting to practicalities, because that was easy where emotions were hard. “But not the way others force you to study.” Simple fix. “How do you prefer to study? It wouldn’t be hard for me to ask for additional meetings with you and make it into a space for you to study as you like instead.” She had already shown she could pull them into secret tunnels to get away from ears and eyes.

If he needed help studying how he wanted, and needed it kept from others, she could do it. He might not like her for it, but he would be happier, and that was…something, wasn’t it? Something to protect, something to want, and to take hold of. To keep. Which meant keeping her.

That was close enough to loyalty, right?

Besides which, the only thing he actually needed to be doing was making Shiva appear, but…well, who was she to force that upon him when she couldn’t make Phoenix appear? No, until she figured it out, she couldn’t expect it of others.

Zariel plainly put that his forgiveness would be thrown to the wind. He imagined it would hurt. It happened before when he gave the truth that people so desperately asked for. Most of the time, they didn't like to hear it. He was yet to develop any sort of skill in curbing his tongue and jibing at others in sleek ways. He wasn't sure he ever would.

So, Lixue did the same, focusing on the practicalities that Zariel put forward. It was what their whole meeting was about after all. He did let some intrigue betray his placcid expression at her mention of a study space, under the guise of meetings. It still meant he would have to meet with her, which he had to keep a scowl from forming at, but he was not in a position where he could stay away from her. Their fates were too tightly bound to one another for him to avoid her entirely.

"An isolated space would be good," Lixue agreed, nodded as he considered the thought further. "I simply don't like people constantly looking over my shoulder, trying to correct any of my theories with common drivel. They don't know if anything they're telling me is right." And neither did he know with what he tried to piece together himself. But how else would they find out anything if they kept walking along the same path, never diverging?

"I want to test hypotheses too," Lixue explained, though, did add, "one day. I'm too young to be conducting any sort of experiments. But I'm curious as to how things work. How to make things work better." Meaning and reasoning was all well and good. Learning how to utilise it was best of all. "I suppose I'll need all of that, if I'm ever to make Shiva appear..."

The bane of his life. The questions of when, how, why not yet?

Zariel plainly put that his forgiveness would be thrown to the wind. He imagined it would hurt. It happened before when he gave the truth that people so desperately asked for. Most of the time, they didn't like to hear it. He was yet to develop any sort of skill in curbing his tongue and jibing at others in sleek ways. He wasn't sure he ever would.

So, Lixue did the same, focusing on the practicalities that Zariel put forward. It was what their whole meeting was about after all. He did let some intrigue betray his placcid expression at her mention of a study space, under the guise of meetings. It still meant he would have to meet with her, which he had to keep a scowl from forming at, but he was not in a position where he could stay away from her. Their fates were too tightly bound to one another for him to avoid her entirely.

"An isolated space would be good," Lixue agreed, nodded as he considered the thought further. "I simply don't like people constantly looking over my shoulder, trying to correct any of my theories with common drivel. They don't know if anything they're telling me is right." And neither did he know with what he tried to piece together himself. But how else would they find out anything if they kept walking along the same path, never diverging?

"I want to test hypotheses too," Lixue explained, though, did add, "one day. I'm too young to be conducting any sort of experiments. But I'm curious as to how things work. How to make things work better." Meaning and reasoning was all well and good. Learning how to utilise it was best of all. "I suppose I'll need all of that, if I'm ever to make Shiva appear..."

The bane of his life. The questions of when, how, why not yet?

Isolated, without anyone to look over his shoulder. Zariel would have to be there, but she could do any manner of thing to stay out of his way. She nodded. Isolated was simple enough. They had the entire throne room this time. Such a grand space wouldn’t be afforded in the future. “I can arrange it,” there were rooms without hidden passages. Those would be the only ones Lavi would trust.

‘Do it and ask nothing in return.’ She wanted to ask for information. For results. For anything, but she knew that in this offer, she could demand nothing. This was for him, and only him. He would present findings if he wanted to.

“You’re not too young to do experiments,” she added. “I would only need to know what sort you want to do, and what you would need. I can arrange the rest.” Why would he think he was too young? “Many things are better to learn young,” languages one of them, but certainly even other skills could be learned young and it’d be immensely beneficial.

“Combat, dance, magic, language – all of these, the best practitioners, learned young. I’m sure it carries over to other practices, and we all need to find ways to bring for the gods,” her, most of all.

Which reminded her, “Do you know why?” wasn’t that what she was actually supposed to be discussing? Probably. And there was still a walk through the passages. “That they’ve chosen us, that is. I don’t know what Lady Virys has told you.”

‘Just like that?’ Lixue wondered. This was when an exchange of something was mentioned. An angle, an ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine.’ None such came, even though Zariel was in the highest position to ask it. So why not? But he had sense not to question - at least, for now, and so he nodded. "Thank you." At least Zariel tried to help.

Lixue was surprised by allying himself to Zariel’s beliefs. Nothing should have been off limits to even the youngest, most curious minds. Knowledge was not something that should have been kept locked away.

But his desire for knowledge extended beyond the innocences of combat, dance, magic, and languages. While he had always been eager in his studies of magic, he wanted to go beyond just learning incantations. He wanted to take it further, see how else it could be utilised, what it could be mixed with.

Like Mist. If he could ever get close to it.

Stories and assumptions of its effects on the world, on monsters, on humans were not enough to sate Lixue.

There was time yet to disclose those secret desires to Zariel. He nodded and showed his own agreement to Zariel’s words. He regarded Zariel and her question, pausing only to recall what he had been told of his situation.

“She repeated to me what the late Emperor Lavi had explained to her when he came to see the proof of my mark. About the World-Eating Serpent, Ophiuchus, how the gods fell from the sky and seek those born under their domain to help them rise against him. I’ve known this some time now.” And he did not feel all the better for knowing it, being saddled with such responsibility and knowledge.

“I don’t understand how they would know to choose us specifically,” Lixue mused, a question he constantly battled with. “Yes, those born at certain points of the year, but how did they know to choose between those who were potentially born on the same day? My mother believes I had some innate quality that Shiva saw in me, but I find that hard to believe when not even my mother knew who I was before I was born.”

The gods are all-seeing, all-knowing. “That being said, I read somewhere that claimed Asura knew each mortal before they ever came to be. Faces, voices, personae. She could pick her hero from the library of mortals that even their grandparents don’t know yet.” Lixue shrugged, scepticism rolling from his lips. “But then if she or any of the gods knew that, wouldn’t they have known the danger that was coming for their world?”

By now, this was the part where he would be chastised for thinking such thoughts, or sent away to dwell on these things without an audience. For all of Lixue’s apparent displeasure in being stuck with Zariel, his tongue felt looser in her presence, freer.

Lixue was not entirely ignorant. That was good, Zariel wouldn’t have to try to explain it in her own words. What he wasn’t sure on was why he was chosen. It was something Zariel had never questioned: she was the right bloodline. Why that was so important had only crossed her mind a few times. There were other monarchs in the world, and while she obviously believed she was worthy as the descendant of Lavi and future Empress, there was still that question – why?

Or rather, why not a Bandoethel or a Kavalieris?

Lixue’s queries were not quite questions she had gotten to at her age, but they circled around questions she had: why don’t all the others know? Yes, she was sworn to a certain secrecy, because there were villains known as Cardinals killing them, but even so, there was something…off. Lavi should have united all the Zodiac in his time. He had a lot of time. As soon as they manifested, they should have known.

But, they didn’t.

That was why she had to ask Lixue. They didn’t know, which meant another thing: maybe they didn’t know who they were picking.

“I was always told Phoenix had to pick an Arkidos born at the right time. My father told me that was very important,” the importance went beyond her understanding for the impact it had on Bellona, on their relationship. “My grandfather told him that, as if Phoenix has no choice,” was that possible? Saying it like that, with Lixue’s doubt, made her wonder if it was a matter of choice.

With the situation as it was, why wouldn’t Phoenix fly to some other family, some other worthy hero? “Phoenix never meant anything to our family before,” now their identity was built on it, to the point people forgot it had ever been otherwise. Nearly a century would do that, though. “Not more than the other gods. So…I’m not sure the Gods have much time to pick and choose, Lix—Lord Lixue.” Formality still. “We have to become what they need.”

Lixue listened to Zariel's explanation, attentive to every detail she chose to diverge. Now that he thought more on it, it was curious how Phoenix stayed with Leander’s line. But then it had always been that way, even when his mother was young. Yet, there was no history or mention of Shiva in his family, or any other gods for that matter. Perhaps Zariel had the right idea. They were drawn to whoever was closest to them.

Before he answered her, he found himself resisting Zariel's correction, “Lixue. Just Lixue is fine.” With other ears, most definitely not. In private it could be excused. The title felt like trying to pin something to a wall without a pin itself anyway. It did not stick.

“It seems the others don’t think in the same way,” he said. “There are only three of us here in Amarum, and the other nine are scattered elsewhere. Phoenix is a sigil of your family, a beacon for the marked and the gods.” But then not everyone was born in Amarum. Not everyone was Zariel, or Oleander, or him. The marked did not know their significance, and their gods couldn’t tell them of that significance if they didn’t manifest.

It was why they were an Empire now, why Leander spread those great flaming wings and took much of the continent under them. Yet, why were not more brought together here as he had planned to do, urgent as this emergency was?

He had many questions. He thought, and thought, a spiderweb of hypotheses and solutions ever spiralling. What they were doing, what they weren’t doing, what needed to be done. “What the gods need is us to gather them all here and to tell them what they must do. We cannot sit and expect them to come to us.” That much was obvious. Leander had the right idea combing the continent and expanding.

But it stagnated as Lavi came to rule. He had seen it, though, he had his mother to point that out to him, among her criticisms of him. Lixue wondered if she had a special privilege to speak her mind because of his position.

Lixue. Just Lixue. There was a part of Zariel that was immediately suspicious of this. People who wanted to be familiar were often looking for additional favors they thought could be won by ridding themselves of the trappings of titles, but Zariel felt that suspicion melt the more he spoke and the more she reflected on how he had behaved already.

Aquarius were the eccentrics, the non-comformists. What was more non-conforming in their social circles than a lack of tact and blunt honesty?

"Lixue then," she consented, "And I'll be Zariel, private or public," he may not wish the attention of it in public, but she extended it, "we're equals, only the accident of my birth has lifted me higher, and my place as guiding the other Marked to us so that we can destroy Ophiuchus."

Which brought her to the real point of her venture, as she came to the point in the passage where they were going to make their escape, "Which is why I'm taking you to meet my brother. My father didn't think he needed to concern himself with this, but I disagree. My brother is as much a part of this as we are and should know who he's destined to stand besides."

If only her mother understood Zariel bore him no ill will.

Perhaps she did, though, and intended to keep him from positive associations.

Zariel touched a stone in the wall, no different from the others, and a glyph lit up. The once solid wall vanished into nothing, revealing they outside of the vast castle, near the sewer system, but still within the walls. "He'll be training with the guards."

“Of course, Zariel." The name felt foreign without the title behind it, but Lixue welcomed it. As did she with his own name. At least they would not have to be burdened with social trivialities and constraints. It only added to their equal standing - other than Zariel’s position as a leader among them.

He preferred that. He did not consider himself a leader of men.

Lixue looked at Zariel, brow lowered. Oleander was younger, sure, but it didn't mean he should be any less involved with them. He could almost hear his mother's choice names for Lavi, and dare he say it, he was starting to agree with her. It was clear as day in his expression. "I agree," Lixue affirmed. "It would do no good for him to be left out of such discussions." He would learn in time, even if he did not understand all of it now.

He watched as they reached another exit, and Zariel gained them passage once again. Lixue was not immune to the impressive features of these walls and as he followed Zariel, he turned and stared at the castle exterior in some lengthy awe. He turned at Zariel's voice, and he couldn't help but scoff, amused at the idea of little Oleander sparring.

"Making a warrior out of him already," Lixue said as he walked with Zariel, though he was not surprised at this. Amarum had a way of instilling discipline and breeding skill into its youngest denizens.

As they walked along, steering clear from as much of the sewer system as they could manage, the ringing of blades and shouts got louder. It wasn't Lixue's idea of entertainment, and he was sure it would never appeal to him. He kept his eyes ahead, watching who he was sure was the small Oleander in the distance swinging some weapon around.

Zariel did notice the way that Lixue slowed, taking in the walls, and everything else. She almost sighed. So young, and already exasperated with the wonder, already too full of what needed to be done. Not that it hurt to delay a few seconds and slow her pace to let Lixue keep his. She was yet a child! And yet, her patience was thin when she considered how quickly things could go south.

It was hard to find Oleander without his mother – their mother – on watch, or one of the guards more inclined to favor Bellona over Lavi present.

“Mm.” Not that Zariel was without such training, but she knew Oleander’s was far more intensive. That was, perhaps, the only thing Lavi and Bellona agreed upon: Oleander would be a warrior, capable of slaying the gods…and those things which threatened the gods, of course.

Thus it was no surprise he was out training, only just five, and holding a metal sword suited for his size – blunted, and in armor, with a small shield, while a lalafell stood as his opponent – Company Commander Momoko, who had retired from active duty some years ago, but had ended up dragged in to training all the noble children because, well, she was friendly and skilled.

Kids liked her.

And her size helped, something she knew.

Zariel never got to train with Momoko, of course, but Momoko knew her face as she approached with Lixue. “Halt!” She cried, not that Oleander was quick enough to register that, and when he swung his sword at her, she easily parried and knocked him flat on his butt.

“Oomph! Ow – I hate this armor!” he complained, a complaint that Momoko was only too used to, and empathized with. It wasn’t the best quality, nor tailored to him. Jagged metal bit into him when he fell or got knocked around, which was often enough.

“Your Imperial Highness,” Momoko greeted, which caused Oleander to tense up, and then scramble to his feet, moving immediately behind Momoko and looking at Zariel from behind his helmet’s visor with the wary fear of a cornered animal. “What brings you here?” Momoko’s tone was also wary.

To say she was on Bellona’s side of things was an understatement.

“To introduce Lord Lixue to Prince Oleander,” Zariel said, stepping back to let Lixue be forward, “That is all. He is Aquarius, and should meet Scorpio.”

“Aqueeus?” Oleander repeated, poorly. Trying the other name seemed like a bad idea. Licksyou? How could that be a name for a real person? Sounded like a dog’s name.

Lixue almost mistook Company Commander Momoko for a child before they approached. Of course, that was not the case up close when he recognised the universal childish lalafell features - still noticeable even after her many years of service. Her years of service proved more noticeable in her command to them and her simultaneous parrying of Oleander’s strike.

For someone so small, she was quick and oozed authority. There was something fascinating in that, and intimidating knowing he could be knocked off his feet just as easily as Oleander had.

Lixue’s eyes moved to the young prince, who cowered behind Momoko. He did not show it, but he was intrigued and confused all at once by his reaction. This was Zariel’s brother, an energetic little boy, Scorpio, and yet he quaked in his poor armour at the sight of his own sister. Hardly controlling, incredibly conforming, but certainly not to Zariel.

Lavi did not see the need to introduce Oleander to him. Zariel took him on this winding journey just to get to him. He wondered if this was common practice.

“Prince Oleander, a pleasure to meet you.” Lixue nodded to the boy. The temptation to help correct his botched pronunciation was strong, but he resisted. “Lixue Virys. I am Shiva’s chosen. I was meeting with your sister today, and she insisted I meet with you as well, seeing as we’ll all be working together.”

Lixue could feel the heavy stare of the commander on him. He thought more on how wary she sounded when they approached, something he did not understand quite as well as what Zariel would have. How easy it would have been to glare back and to tell her this meeting was none of her concern.

But it would do no good to be so hostile in front of her.

“We do appreciate you coming here to introduce yourself to Prince Oleander,” she forced a smile to them both, “but forgive me, my lord, your Imperial Highness, we still have a lesson to finish. There is still much to teach and much to learn before the day is out.”

Oleander nodded as Lixue mentioned Shiva. He knew that. He knew the other word, too, just…not as well. The names of the gods were easier than the houses they represented. Who could say Sagittarius? Oleander was intrigued, though. He knew Zariel was like him in many ways, but mama said she also didn’t like him, and he shouldn’t trust her.

But she didn’t say anything about Licksyou.

“Captain Momoko,” Oleander spoke up, “I need a break, you were telling me before,” but he kept pressing, “I can take one now to meet Lord Licksyou,” he saw Zariel’s move to press her hands to her lips and her turn away, though he didn’t understand the gesture as her shoulders shook, “Right?”

Captain Momoko sighed. “Yes, my prince, if that is your wish….”

“It is!” He said, and Momoko nodded, and moved off, her blocking presence suddenly gone. Oleander immediately wished for it again, but tried to stand up tall anyways. “Um.” He realized he had no idea how this was supposed to go. “So. You’re gonna help with the serpent thingy?”

“Ophiuchus.”

“I know what it is!” Oleander snapped immediately at Zariel, “Ophi.” He knew he butchered the full name. He’d tried and tried but he was terrible at it. He hadn’t wanted to say it, and now she tried to embarrass him, in front of someone new! "But you are, right? You and Shiva and all the others. Are the others here?"

Zariel shook her head.

"Oh. Why not?"

Oleander insisting on a break was most ideal, an opportune moment for them all to speak to one another. Though the feeling of triumph evaporated at the young prince's attempt to address his name. He glanced at Zariel, who had already turned away to mask her amusement, and Oleander stood clueless to his mistake.

"Lixue," he muttered his correction. Vexation reddened his cheeks.

'He's a child. Of course he can't pronounce it at all.' Lixue reassured himself and excused Oleander's continued mispronunciations. He couldn't help it.

It was not as bad as chirpy little Sying, only three, calling him 'shoe' on purpose just to get a rise out of him.

Regardless, Momoko left them to converse, and Oleander scrambled for conversation. Naturally, it turned to Ophiuchus, which he insisted he knew a about even after Zariel's correction. At least he was not ignorant of Ophiuchus and the others who would help them defeat the serpent.

He was, however ignorant of the other marked's statuses.

"Not all of them will have been born here when the Zodiac came down," Lixue explained. "Some of them might even be across the continent or on a different one, it depends. So, we'll need to find them and bring them here, so that we'll all fight Ophi together." Agh! Even Lixue decided to shorten it without meaning to. Though, perhaps Oleander would like it better that way.

Lixue cleared his throat, brushing that initial wave of embarrassment over him. "And you'll help in the search for them too. We'll be able to look for them together." There was a little spark in his chest at the thought of that. Perhaps it was comforting knowing that this burden was his to carry alone. There would be some company.

Oleander was agreeable. He just needed to be agreeable with them long enough so they could kill the serpent. So for now that meant dealing with a lot of questions, and a lot of comments regarding his role in all of this.

As blunt as Oleander was about his physique, Lixue knew he was no warrior, and had little desire to be otherwise. Out of twelve of them, he was sure there would be plenty of strong, physical fighters. He hoped, at least. What he lacked in physical combat, he would make up with strategy and growing knowledge, as Zariel rightly pointed out. Already she put that much faith in him.

But then she needed him too. Not eleven, not seven, but all Twelve of them. He would admit, there was something flattering about her already acknowledging a strength in him, instead of glaring weakness like Oleander had pointed out.

Lixue did not intend to be wholly incapable of combat. He was already studying magic, his disinterest in other forms of fighting driving him to that alternative.

Alas, physical strength triumphed over all, and Oleander insisted he would come out the strongest between the two siblings.

‘And let’s hope that strength isn’t used against her.’ That would not do at all. Zariel had her reservations about Scorpio and the need for control. Oleander could be allowed to stray so far, but he equally would have to be reigned in. “Well, Zariel, myself, and the others are going to need every ounce of your strength. All of us will have our own talents that will be needed to bring down the serpent. I intend to further my studies in magic to make up for my…lack of physical skill.”

“But most importantly, we need to put our trust into one another,” Lixue focused a serious stare at Oleander. Rapport, trust, whatever they wanted to call it. “We need to be united for when the time comes, don’t you agree?”

Zariel did not know about the magic.



She was impressed.

Magic didn’t come naturally to her. She had attempted the study, of course, and fell flat at understanding it, something that infuriated Lavi even if he tried to keep calm. Apparently, Leander could manipulate fire like no one’s business, which made sense. So why couldn’t she? A problem the scholars still tried to work out. One she still tried to work out.

‘Maybe he can help.’ It would at least be worth asking, when Lixue came into his own.

The thought wasn’t even an ‘if’.

“Hmmm.” Oleander seemed to doubt that things were going to work if the others couldn’t fight physically, which was fair. Zariel barely knew how you fought something like Ophiuchus, though swords and magic seemed the way. There was likely more to it, or she could just take the Amarum army against Ophiuchus. There was a piece she was missing. Something Leander didn’t tell Lavi.

Something Phoenix would tell her.

“I guess not everyone can be strong,” Oleander sighed, but then seemed to frown deeper as Lixue mentioned trust. That suspicious gaze found Zariel, “And what do you do? If he’s strategy and I’m strength.” It was almost daring her to say something, though Zariel couldn’t read what. She wasn’t even sure if Oleander knew.

“Do you remember when you were trying to find your lost chicobo at night and got scared?”

“I wasn’t scared!”

“Okay,” Zariel didn’t believe him, “but you remember it was really hard to find her?” He nodded. “I’m the light in the darkness. Some of the zodiac were able to see that, and so they’ve marked people close,” she said, “but others weren’t so lucky – they got confused. But they’ll see me, and they’ll come together. That’s all I am.” And then, she added, “because Phoenix is really just a giant fireball with wings, you know?”

His lip twitched, an almost-smile, an almost-laugh, “That’s blasmowthy.” Yet another word he couldn’t say, but he’d clearly heard enough of. And he clearly liked it, although he knew he wasn’t supposed to. “And that’s not gonna do much against a serpent.”

“No, it’s not,” Zariel conceded. “Not when it matters. That’ll come down to you, Oleander. You’ll be a hero.”

His eyes seem to glisten with sudden energy at that. Of course, he always knew he was going to be a hero. He heard that all the time, but from Zariel? Wait, this was Zariel. Suddenly, his expression darkened, before twisting to confused. He didn’t understand it, not really. It was in his head not trust her, the way it was in his head that he shouldn’t touch fire, but he didn’t know why. He’d never done it.

So he smiled again, because it felt nice. “Guess I gotta.”

The light in the darkness. If Cancer was the moon, Zariel would be their sun. He hoped there was some semblance of truth to her words, that their Zodiac had been smart enough to see Phoenix's beacon. But it bothered him about how the others did not and landed elsewhere. It truly was like they had gotten lost or confused.

It would not do to voice his concerns and his theories at the moment. He didn’t want to muddle things up for the young prince, just as Zariel seemed to be getting him on side and he was starting to get comfortable.

He cracked something of a smile to himself over the ‘blaspheming’ so vocally addressed by both siblings. He felt more at ease here. Lixue was glad of how it was not all holy reverence and fate and duty and responsibility. It was stifling to breathe in otherwise.

And yet, there was equal parts ease, and an underlying tension Lixue hadn’t been able to decipher. Even Oleander confused himself in the presence of his sister and with her words. It had not looked like he was used to compliments or assurances from his sister. He hid himself from her, puffed his chest out like so many did in an attempt to convince her - and himself - that he was not afraid.

Why was he so afraid?

Lixue wished he could be candid and ask that, but that came with repercussions.

But still, Oleander smiled properly for once in this entire meeting. A breakthrough for them, even if it was a small one.

“I’m glad you agree,” Lixue said finally. “We’ll be able to gather the other nine and put down the serpent quickly at this rate.” A pipe dream, but some light encouragement never went amiss. Perhaps if he said it enough, it would come true.

But even in the wake of a small victory, Lixue caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone short, and someone much taller, moving towards them as if to pounce.

“Zariel,” he whispered a warning. Their presence was not welcomed here, he knew that much. They had strayed from their meeting place after all.

Lixue’s addition was enough to keep that faint expression of friendliness on Oleander’s face, which was…well, progress. Not that Zariel hadn’t seen it before, but getting to Oleander, and getting him alone, was the hard part. Lixue proved a decent excuse, but not one she’d be able to pull often.

But Lixue seeing Oleander on his own, now and then? That might help. That might even be allowed.

Zariel couldn’t think about it long. She heard Lixue’s whisper, something Oleander didn’t hear, but saw, and frowned, “What?” Oleander demanded, that pout of not knowing something coming out in that accusatory tone.

“Our mother is here,” Zariel said, and knew there was no running even if she wanted to. Still, Lixue gave her warning enough that she could step ahead. She touched Lixue’s shoulder with a slight pressure back to keep him there, to not follow, as she went to greet her mother and Momoko in their approach, to help draw off any attention Lixue might face.

It was never good attention.

“Is everything all right, mother?”

“No,” Bellona didn’t even hide it, “Does your father know where you are?”

“He knows that I am meeting Lord Lixue,” Zariel answered, an evasive truth. Her mother’s eyes flicked to Lixue, as sharp as daggers, before flicking back to Zariel as she continued, “and Lord Lixue came to meet my brother.”

Bellona’s nose wrinkled, but Zariel kept her face impassive, a feat for a child who wanted to scream and cry in the face of such blatant disapproval. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” The whispered query was as sharp as that terrible gaze before Bellona knelt down to Zariel’s height and brushed an agitated hand by Zariel’s face, removing the sparkles on her cheek as if that was her real concern, “I have told you Oleander is dangerous. You need to stop this.” Pinched at the end, as if pulling off the glitter, before she dropped her hand, “Do I need to send Captain Momoko with you to go back to the throne room?”

“No, mother.” She didn’t look down. Her eyes watered at the rough treatment, but other than that, she held firm.

“Good. Go.”

And she rose, as Zariel turned away and walked to Lixue, gave a nod, and started to walk off.

“Wait! Licksyou! Mom, why are they going?”

“They weren’t supposed to be out here, baby,” Bellona answered, “I’m sending them back so they don’t get in trouble with Lavi.”

“Oh….”

“Besides, Lord Lixue is an academic. He probably thinks your swordplay is quite, well, silly,” an easy chuckle as she gave poisonous opinions to Lixue, to poison Oleander against him, as she always did. As she always would.

Lixue ignored Oleander even as he demanded to be let into that discreet warning. Zariel announced her mother’s arrival, walking on ahead to greet her. He shifted as if to move behind her, though, glanced to the hand on his shoulder that ordered him not to follow. He obeyed and watched from a safer distance, while Zariel walked straight into the firing line.

He found he would be grateful for that, when Bellona spat her displeasure as Zariel spoke with such an even temper.

Lixue quickly met the eyes that turned on him at the mention of his name, but even he wasn’t immune to the sharpness of those eyes. The suffocation he felt under that gaze disappeared as quickly as it came upon him. He could imagine how stifling it was being directly under her gaze. He did not need to imagine the mother’s insistent whispers and the sly, rough handling of her daughter. That was plain enough to see.

The pieces fell easier into the place now that Lixue witnessed Bellona with Zariel. And he could not help but feel the frustration and the anger on the girl’s part, even if Zariel had taken it all on like the grace of the ruler she needed to be. Carrying it on, she nodded to him, releasing him from his spot to follow her once again. And once again, he did so.

As Oleander called to him and Bellona had woven her little telltales, he did slow, tempted to turn and spit his own vile words at that viper. But he was not fire, he was air. Temper did not suit him, and Lixue was smarter than that. He would play the game and lose this round.

Let her think she was winning.

Lixue caught up to Zariel again and met her pace, though, he walked with her in silence. He was much too focused on what he had witnessed, the obstacles put down in front of them. He wondered, why would adults allow children to speak and plan such things alone, if they were only going to meddle and make their stupid opinions known? Did things really need to be made so much more complex?

Silence the entire way back would not do, not now with what he knew.

“I understand you a little better now,” his voice felt loud as he broke the silence, despite how conspirative he sounded, “and about the warnings your mother put out about Scorpio.” Why she warned him about her. He was aware of the direction of Scorpio was being pushed in. They needed to pull him the other way. “You’ll help me with what I want,” he murmured, "let me help you with what you want.”

‘We’re even.’

Zariel didn’t say it, but she felt it as she imagined there was enough distance between herself and Bellona to safely wipe at her eyes and rid them of any watering. She could empathize with having personal things laid bare, as Lixue was soon to have his thoughts laid bare when she looked at the book. This felt worse, but she knew it wasn’t proper to compare.

Or to mention it.

The silence was heavy, but she wasn’t sure how to break it. So she kept walking, intent on focusing on the mission of returning them to the throne room before they could be in trouble. She brought them back to the passage, and then Lixue spoke.

The closed in space made his voice all the louder, and she did jolt, but still heard him clearly through the surprise. He did understand what he saw, which was…terribly revealing. Zariel didn’t like it, even if it gained her one very obvious thing: a very good ally.

He volunteered the help. Not that he wasn’t going to receive much from her, but still…she had not asked this of him. ‘Air breathes life into Fire.’ Some part of Zariel knew, then, what she had found in Lixue, although the true extent of it would take years to flourish, as they both grew, not only older, but also, apart.

But never away.

“Thank you, Lixue.”