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FFXIV Writes 2023 - Day 2 - Bark

Spoilers for the start of Shadowbringers and some minion flavor text. This is set before my canon WoL fantasias himself into a Viera, so he's a Hyur for this.

Gods, there are so damned many of them. Xander thought, horror coiling like a freezing-cold serpent around his gut.

Ahead of him, the mysterious Crystal Exarch (who'd momentarily earned his trust, if not yet discharged his suspicion) charged forward, driving conjured sword and shield deep into a feathered cocoon before it could hatch to birth a new monstrosity. Selene flew close behind the Exarch, tethering herself to his aether to keep his wounds from getting too severe. Wind tore a few stray hairs from Xander's well-kept bun as Lyna, the captain of the Crystarium Guard, dashed past him with chakrams in hand to tear apart what looked like it might once have been a Gremlin limb from limb before its taunting could dampen her lord's resolve.

"Are you all right back here?"

Alisaie's voice startled him momentarily from his contemplation as she skidded into place next to him, having backflipped out of the way of the former bull, now Sin Eater that broke through the fence before them. She wiped the sweat from her brow and readied her rapier before looking to him once more for an answer.

"So far, yes. My shielding spells haven't broken, and it looks like the Exarch is well on his feet, thanks to his more measured pace. If it'd been Celeste leading the vanguard, she'd have charged through every single foe and dragged them behind her to reach that thing we fought back in the clearing."

"I heard that, you arse!" his one adventurer ally mired in the First with him snarled back from the fields over the fence, her sword dripping with Darkness as she tore yet another newborn Sin Eater apart.

As his eyes swept over both the road (his immediate battlefield) and the fields beyond, now laden with Sin Eater cocoons instead of sheep and livestock, a small tendril of anxiety crawled up Xander's spine. All these sheep and no shepherd. Did he manage to escape, or...?

His unease only grew as a familiar sound carried over the chittering noises of their foes and the distant crackle of flames and echoes of screams ahead. Sharp, repetitive, high-pitched, and utterly terrified barks cut through the din.

There's a dog near here, but where-?

He got his answer a moment later, azure eyes widening in dawning horror as he saw the horse-human-winged abomination that most people became when turned into these monstrosities hovering before a dog about the height of his knees. A black dog with white brindle markings and a red collar around its neck that snarled and snapped and barked at the uncaring creature before them.

Xander received cries of alarm from his companions when he vaulted the fence to enter the fields, but he paid them no heed. The dog. He had to protect the dog from becoming one of those monstrosities. He threw a shielding spell around the both of them, clutching both book and animal to his chest as he knelt over it, feeling the Sin Eater's claws rake at his back. Enough to rend his shield and his clothes, but not his skin.

He held the glyphs for his most powerful offensive spell using arcanima in his mind's eye, holding his hand away from both himself and the now-squirming dog as fiery aether coalesced around it. When the spell was done charging, he twisted up to face his foe and blasted it right in the face with broiling hot aether that forced it to withdraw, covering its eyes. That made it an easy target for both Lyna's charkrams and Alisaie's magic, dissipating its essence into nothing.

The dog in his arms no longer squirmed, but poked their head over his shoulder, barking and whining right in his ear and pawing against his back as if reaching for the retreating form of their attacker.

In that moment, Xander reached a terrible understanding: That eater must have been the dog's former master. The poor thing must have thought they were playing at first, then gotten scared and confused when something that smelled like their master but didn't act like them emerged from that feathery cocoon.

"That was decidedly reckless! Are you all right?"

The Exarch's voice broke through Xander's thoughts, forcing him to stand, carrying the surprisingly hefty dog with him. All things considered, the furry one tolerated being carried rather well, in sharp contrast to when he first found his dog Gestahl wandering the streets of Ishgard on the Source.

Clambering over the fence without the aid of his arms took longer than Xander would have liked, given the emergent nature of the situation, but he managed, and soon reunited with the others on the main road.

"That's a black hayate." Lyna noted, a hint of awe coloring her voice. "I've only ever seen them in books that a few refugees from the eastern lands managed to bring with them. One of them must have taken up residence here in Holminster Switch and used it as a guard dog."

Alisaie's face twisted in sympathy. "Oh, then that Eater we just killed must have been its master, the poor thing..."

Xander sighed, rubbing the dog's incredibly fluffy back. "I thought so too. Obviously, I can't just carry our new friend with us, but I worry that if I let them go, they'll just get themselves into trouble again..."

He looked behind him to discover that Alphinaud and Celeste had gathered on the road to see what was going on. Alphinaud's Carbuncle sniffed the air as Xander leaned down to hand the dog off to the smaller elezen. "Can you hold him and look after him while the rest of us take care of the threats on the road?"

Alphinaud stammered, but did not complain as he took hold of the dog. "I- well, of course, if that's what you want, but how am I supposed to heal those in need of succor if my hands aren't-?"

The tell-tale swish of aether around someone who'd just taken hold of a different Job Stone filled the air, and where once Celeste stood in armor torn from the chassis of Omega with forged moonlight greatsword in hand, now an icy tree branch chilled the air around her, layers of flowing white and red cloth draping across her tall and slender form. "I've been getting back into practice with white magic, love, leave the healing to me. You just focus on keeping our four-legged friend here well in-hand."

Celeste scratched one of the Black Hayate's ears, and it let out another bark, this time of happiness. The sound made Xander let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't realized he was holding. There would be time enough to get to know the dog and enjoy their company back at the Crystarium. For now, he had to get back on the road.

He gave the dog one last scratch beneath the collar before returning at last to the vanguard, sprinting to keep up with them as they made up for lost time and charged for what once might have been the main planting area for the farm. An area over which a suspiciously and horrifyingly familiar shadow now loomed, wings beating erratically as it descended.

Alisaie's dull "So this is where you went..." confirmed his worst suspicions: They'd have to put down Tesleen to advance any further. Xander set his mouth in a grim line and pulled his codex from his hip, readying himself for what would surely prove a trying battle.

FFXIV Writes Day 4 - "Off the Hook"

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

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

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

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

All the elezen left behind was a note.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thump.

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

Thu-thump.

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

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

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

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

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

"Answer the question."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 5 - Barbarous

Spoilers for Endwalker MSQ, circa level 82-83.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No better.

"Farewell, my first friend. My enemy."

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

FFXIV Write - Day 9 - Fair

Early ShB spoilers

Halone's frozen tits, this is the FUCKING worst. Celeste groused to herself, massaging her feet with oils after yet another long day in the Crystarium.

None of the other Scions decided to remain here, I've become the errand girl for the Crystalline Mean, and to add insult to injury, I'm not even here because I was WANTED or NEEDED. I was just a bloody casualty in the Exarch's attempts to reach his real target, Xander. Because of course it's Xan. It's bloody well ALWAYS Xan.

She threw aside her gauntlets in disgust as she recalled the sheer reverence in the Exarch's voice as he 'apologized for the inconvenience of her summons' and told her of his intentions to bring the Warrior of Light across the Rift. Suppose I should consider myself fortunate that he even knew who I bloody well was, though hells if I know how he knew of me. But GODS, this isn't FAIR.

She flopped back on her well-appointed bed in the Pendants, staring at the ceiling. Even despite the curtains she'd drawn shut, Light leaked into the room, all but blinding to her bleary eyes. Can't even have the decency of calling me directly, and now I'm run off my feet just trying to help the city run smoothly.

[You could just say 'no'.] Fray's familiar voice rumbled from the corner. [You're under no obligation to help these people. This isn't your world, and they're not your concern. You could just while away the hours until your comrade arrives.]

Celeste sighed at her other self's words, laying her forearm over her eyes as she delivered her rebuttal. "No, I can't. My world or not, it's where I'll be living for the foreseeable future. And these people need my help. Plus, I'd be bored just waiting around for Xan to drag his arse over here. And, well... if he doesn't show up..."

While he'd been sparse on details, the Exarch told her when she arrived that her Blessing of Light would be crucial in the days to come, should his summons fail again. Which meant, more than likely, that if Xander didn't show up the next time the Exarch tried his little 'expanse contract, eon become instant' ritual, that she'd become the linchpin to his plans to save the First. If he didn't arrive, then the burden of saving this world would fall upon her.

The thought of truly carrying the world's fate across her shoulders alone sent a chill down her spine. If she wasn't up to the task, how could she ever face all the people she'd volunteered to help since her arrival here? How could she face the Scions? Herself?

...is this what it's like for Xan, I wonder? All this running about like a headless dodo and this relentless pressure to perform acts of heroism?

She shuddered.

Maybe I haven't been fair to him. All this time, I thought he just got off on the plaudits and the praise and all that rot. That he loved soaking in the attention being THE 'Warrior of Light' got him. ...but maybe, in his heart of hearts, he feels as scared and alone as I do right now...

Considering that possibility made regret squeeze around Celeste's heart like a vice. Though she'd long since forgiven him his priggish behavior before entering Ishgard, and he'd done likewise for her behavior after their arrival, she'd not really let go of her resentment that he'd stepped forward as the face of the group. A face that wouldn't have been nearly so charismatic without her help in tailoring his approach to his audience.

Him stepping into the healer's role and offering his critiques from his limited experience only solidified Celeste's anger and bitterness at being replaced within their merry group. And that wasn't fair to him either, when he'd simply wanted to expand his knowledge base and offer assistance. Then again, it hadn't been fair to her to expect her to simply accommodate him changing roles on a whim back then, either.

As her reflections on the past gamboled over one another in her head, a knock on the door startled her from her thoughts.

"M-Mistress Celeste? I was told to come and fetch you post-haste. You have a comrade waiting to see you at the markets."

The duskwight all but catapulted herself from the bed at the hailings of the elezen- elf, they were called elves here- who worked the front desk. She didn't dare to hope, to believe that it might actually be him, but she had to see.

She threw on some clothes and offered a hurried apology to the young lad as she barreled right past him and charged full-tilt for the Musica Universalis. She only stopped running when she passed the Market Board and saw a familiar head of blond hair seemingly having a little chat with Bragi, jotting notes down in that ever-present Codex of his.

When at last he finished taking his notes and took his leave of Bragi, Xander paused in the busy marketplace, staring right at Celeste as if in disbelief.

She didn't know who started running for the other first. All Celeste knew was that she had her arms wrapped tight around her friend while he practically sobbed into the bodice of her dress.

"...sorry- all my fault- here because of me and it's not fair-!"

As Celeste ran her fingers through his carefully styled hair to comfort him, the thought she'd tried to keep buried for nearly six moons came rushing forward to stab at her heart. If we don't succeed here, then he's going to die.

As unfair as her circumstances were, as much as she bitched and moaned about being dragged into this entire affair, Celeste knew one thing for sure: Abandoning her friend to die in whatever future Urianger glimpsed from the Rift would be the most unfair act of all.

And she would never allow it to happen.