Zagreus had been so glad to return to his room on the Train, despite its emptiness. Despite trading one gilded cage for another. This one, at least, was familiar.
He sighs and lays down in his bunk, just wanting to rest his eyes a little before he talks to the rest of the Train about his interaction with the Void Inspectors. He tosses his forearm over his mis-matched eyes and sprawls out his legs on either side of the mattress, his flaming toes dangling off the side to prevent any singe marks. Siri and Artie had been so straightforward, so intimidating with their presence alone, demanding information of him with rules and strictures they had defined while under the guise of asking simple questions. He was not in trouble, you see, but cooperation would make his life so much easier. He'd be returned to his crew within a day, as long as he gave them information about his movements. Zagreus let out a snort of laughter, the distaste in his mouth an even more familiar sensation than the mattress of his bunk. They were so much like calmer versions of his Father.
... Father...
The prince finds himself thinking about the King of the Underworld for the first time since the mission on Kamakan. The contempt in glowing crimson eyes, the disappointment in that booming voice, the snide remarks to everything Zagreus said or did. Was it terrible that he kind of missed that? Probably said more about him than it did about his home world.
And then suddenly there's a sharp pain at his temples, and Zagreus winces, his vision turning white. What was happening? His hand comes to his face and clutches tight as he sits up, suddenly grimacing with the pain, letting out a yell that he stifles by gritting his teeth and closing his mouth. A flash of a figure in pure darkness wearing a white robe, the tell-tale sound of a heart pounding impossibly loud in his ears, a crimson seal, and a warrior appearing to be made entirely of white marble clad in gleaming armor of silver and blue-green. Then his vision shifts so quickly it almost makes him sick, to a blue crystalline floor and thirteen curious stones scattered haphazardly on the floor. Ghostly white hands picking them up, impossibly small. But something feels wrong, something is missing. The faintest impression in his mind that there were only ever meant to be thirteen.
The images vanish as quickly as they came, and he's left to gasp for breath, not knowing he had stopped breathing during that brief moment. "Wh-what the Hell was that," Zagreus says to himself, as if expecting the Old Man from home to answer him. But the narrator of his life had been notably silent on the Train, and the deafening silence that follows only confirms that fact. Irritated now, Zagreus rises from his bed, his mind trying to return to the hazy images and the feeling it had instilled in him. The energy of the thing that had happened to him seems familiar somehow, and it takes him a moment to figure out why, before it hits him all at once.
It's the same sea of dark and light energy that he sensed when he first witnessed the web of a life line that belonged to Elidibus.
His lips clench together in a thin line, jaw set and fists constricted his knuckles are paper-white. Without another thought he lunges out his door, dashing forward with all the speed he can muster, his gaze catching onto a branching strand of that impossibly long life line and following it to its source.
~~~
Something goes wrong when Elidibus uses the Echo, this time. Not wrong, per se, but it seems that touching the young God's mind alters Elidibus' control of his own power, almost as if Zagreus is inadvertently hijacking part of the power for his own. Granted, this also means Elidibus sees the same flashes of images Zagreus sees, hears the same sounds Zagreus hears, and feels the same familiar pain in the temples from when he first began to learn how to use the Echo's power, many eons ago. And then there's a shift far further back in Zagreus' past than Elidibus had first intended, as if the Echo has hijacked itself now. When it's done, and Elidibus has the Echo completely reined in once more, he peers back...
... to a silent winter's night, in a clearing outside the entrance to the Temple of Styx, the nip of the chill air fogging Zagreus' breath as he steps out into it. A strange force presses against his skin, sending chills down his spine and his laurels rustling helplessly into the air, performing small twirls and dances before snuffing out as before. The prince stares with widened eyes at the marble columns and headstones grouped closely together, at the foot-high mound of perfectly undisturbed snow glistening in the moonlight, and is startled by the hiss of it melting beneath his fiery soles. He glances up into the night sky, the true night sky, the one made by Nyx, and the moon, that must be Selene, the moon, that bright white orb in the sky! "Wow..." he finds himself breathing the word at this gorgeous scene, whispering it almost like a prayer. Zagreus slowly walks forward, taking in every single detail of the surface world, of crystalline blue water rushing past him in a river, of the sound of his feet crunching into the snow and leaving behind perfect icy footprints, of the trees-- those must be trees! Real ones!
And then he spots a crimson cape, a familiar silhouette. "Oh. Of course." Zagreus' murmurs disdainfully to himself as he comes to a stop several yards away from the figure of Lord Hades, God of the Dead, standing with his back turned gazing out over a moonlit pond. His Lordship wastes no time with in speaking.
"... I never grew accustomed to the air, up here. It gusts senselessly whichever way it pleases. I suppose you must prefer it to the stillness of the air below." Lord Hades' voice booms unnaturally, filling the whole clearing with even the smallest word, a true testament of his Godhood.
Ah, Zagreus thinks, then that thing before must have been the air. The excitement of learning that fact is quickly dampened by his Father's continued presence. Zagreus tries to keep his countenance neutral as he speaks. "You know, you're right. The air up here seems pretty good so far. But I will reserve judgment 'til I've had my fill. I have to say, though, Father: The Helm of Darkness suits you. I'm touched you'd dust it off on my account."
"It should not have had to come to this. For all your antics with me and around the House, I always kept my temper, have I not? Unlike you." The words of his Father are said in low disappointment, something Zagreus has always expected to dig into his ribs in a painful, uncomfortable way.
Zagreus' jaw clenches, his attempt quickly failing. He keeps his voice low and calm, but the resentment and anger begin to bleed into it almost immediately. "Well let's see. You've berated me repeatedly and often. You've lied to me. Mustered a bunch of incompetent wretches to try to kill me. But, sure, I'll grant you that you've always kept most of your anger bottled up. All that's about to change, then?"
Hades answers immediately, his voice pointed despite being turned away. "We're gods, boy. Killing one another is our lot. Although, I always thought I was above it. I told you that you cannot leave this place. It seems I must enforce my rules myself. I'm sending you home, now." The last word stings at his ribs again, sharp and aggravating, a metaphysical pain that only makes the physical wounds he's sustained in this last escape attempt feel like simple scrapes.
The God of the Dead turns to face his son, then, flinging his red cape off his shoulders with a raise of both fists, the fabric instantly bursting to flame and vanishing into ash. Through gritted teeth, Zagreus responds, "No. You're going home, not me." From a summoning portal that appears the ground comes a massive two-pronged spear, Gigaros, into Hades' waiting hand. It is larger than even the God is, dwarfing Zagreus as he rushes into close range, Stygius already swinging for his Father's side.
The scene, thankfully, cuts itself off before Elidibus can witness who was slaughtered, and who was the victor.
~~~
Shortly after Elidibus returns from his vision, he hears the telltale sound of Zagreus' Dash echoing down the length of the Train, and soon Zagreus is rushing into the car, scanning the Food Stores car for any sign of life. "Elidibus!" He calls to the presumably empty car, before his stare follows the lifeline to its origin point, and Zagreus glares daggers at the exact spot the Ascian's aether is inhabiting. "We need to talk." His voice is clipped, indignant. The jig seems to be up.
I [MAJOR FFXIV SPOILERS, be warned]
He sighs and lays down in his bunk, just wanting to rest his eyes a little before he talks to the rest of the Train about his interaction with the Void Inspectors. He tosses his forearm over his mis-matched eyes and sprawls out his legs on either side of the mattress, his flaming toes dangling off the side to prevent any singe marks. Siri and Artie had been so straightforward, so intimidating with their presence alone, demanding information of him with rules and strictures they had defined while under the guise of asking simple questions. He was not in trouble, you see, but cooperation would make his life so much easier. He'd be returned to his crew within a day, as long as he gave them information about his movements. Zagreus let out a snort of laughter, the distaste in his mouth an even more familiar sensation than the mattress of his bunk. They were so much like calmer versions of his Father.
... Father...
The prince finds himself thinking about the King of the Underworld for the first time since the mission on Kamakan. The contempt in glowing crimson eyes, the disappointment in that booming voice, the snide remarks to everything Zagreus said or did. Was it terrible that he kind of missed that? Probably said more about him than it did about his home world.
And then suddenly there's a sharp pain at his temples, and Zagreus winces, his vision turning white. What was happening? His hand comes to his face and clutches tight as he sits up, suddenly grimacing with the pain, letting out a yell that he stifles by gritting his teeth and closing his mouth. A flash of a figure in pure darkness wearing a white robe, the tell-tale sound of a heart pounding impossibly loud in his ears, a crimson seal, and a warrior appearing to be made entirely of white marble clad in gleaming armor of silver and blue-green. Then his vision shifts so quickly it almost makes him sick, to a blue crystalline floor and thirteen curious stones scattered haphazardly on the floor. Ghostly white hands picking them up, impossibly small. But something feels wrong, something is missing. The faintest impression in his mind that there were only ever meant to be thirteen.
The images vanish as quickly as they came, and he's left to gasp for breath, not knowing he had stopped breathing during that brief moment. "Wh-what the Hell was that," Zagreus says to himself, as if expecting the Old Man from home to answer him. But the narrator of his life had been notably silent on the Train, and the deafening silence that follows only confirms that fact. Irritated now, Zagreus rises from his bed, his mind trying to return to the hazy images and the feeling it had instilled in him. The energy of the thing that had happened to him seems familiar somehow, and it takes him a moment to figure out why, before it hits him all at once.
It's the same sea of dark and light energy that he sensed when he first witnessed the web of a life line that belonged to Elidibus.
His lips clench together in a thin line, jaw set and fists constricted his knuckles are paper-white. Without another thought he lunges out his door, dashing forward with all the speed he can muster, his gaze catching onto a branching strand of that impossibly long life line and following it to its source.
~~~
Something goes wrong when Elidibus uses the Echo, this time. Not wrong, per se, but it seems that touching the young God's mind alters Elidibus' control of his own power, almost as if Zagreus is inadvertently hijacking part of the power for his own. Granted, this also means Elidibus sees the same flashes of images Zagreus sees, hears the same sounds Zagreus hears, and feels the same familiar pain in the temples from when he first began to learn how to use the Echo's power, many eons ago. And then there's a shift far further back in Zagreus' past than Elidibus had first intended, as if the Echo has hijacked itself now. When it's done, and Elidibus has the Echo completely reined in once more, he peers back...
... to a silent winter's night, in a clearing outside the entrance to the Temple of Styx, the nip of the chill air fogging Zagreus' breath as he steps out into it. A strange force presses against his skin, sending chills down his spine and his laurels rustling helplessly into the air, performing small twirls and dances before snuffing out as before. The prince stares with widened eyes at the marble columns and headstones grouped closely together, at the foot-high mound of perfectly undisturbed snow glistening in the moonlight, and is startled by the hiss of it melting beneath his fiery soles. He glances up into the night sky, the true night sky, the one made by Nyx, and the moon, that must be Selene, the moon, that bright white orb in the sky! "Wow..." he finds himself breathing the word at this gorgeous scene, whispering it almost like a prayer. Zagreus slowly walks forward, taking in every single detail of the surface world, of crystalline blue water rushing past him in a river, of the sound of his feet crunching into the snow and leaving behind perfect icy footprints, of the trees-- those must be trees! Real ones!
And then he spots a crimson cape, a familiar silhouette. "Oh. Of course." Zagreus' murmurs disdainfully to himself as he comes to a stop several yards away from the figure of Lord Hades, God of the Dead, standing with his back turned gazing out over a moonlit pond. His Lordship wastes no time with in speaking.
"... I never grew accustomed to the air, up here. It gusts senselessly whichever way it pleases. I suppose you must prefer it to the stillness of the air below." Lord Hades' voice booms unnaturally, filling the whole clearing with even the smallest word, a true testament of his Godhood.
Ah, Zagreus thinks, then that thing before must have been the air. The excitement of learning that fact is quickly dampened by his Father's continued presence. Zagreus tries to keep his countenance neutral as he speaks. "You know, you're right. The air up here seems pretty good so far. But I will reserve judgment 'til I've had my fill. I have to say, though, Father: The Helm of Darkness suits you. I'm touched you'd dust it off on my account."
"It should not have had to come to this. For all your antics with me and around the House, I always kept my temper, have I not? Unlike you." The words of his Father are said in low disappointment, something Zagreus has always expected to dig into his ribs in a painful, uncomfortable way.
Zagreus' jaw clenches, his attempt quickly failing. He keeps his voice low and calm, but the resentment and anger begin to bleed into it almost immediately. "Well let's see. You've berated me repeatedly and often. You've lied to me. Mustered a bunch of incompetent wretches to try to kill me. But, sure, I'll grant you that you've always kept most of your anger bottled up. All that's about to change, then?"
Hades answers immediately, his voice pointed despite being turned away. "We're gods, boy. Killing one another is our lot. Although, I always thought I was above it. I told you that you cannot leave this place. It seems I must enforce my rules myself. I'm sending you home, now." The last word stings at his ribs again, sharp and aggravating, a metaphysical pain that only makes the physical wounds he's sustained in this last escape attempt feel like simple scrapes.
The God of the Dead turns to face his son, then, flinging his red cape off his shoulders with a raise of both fists, the fabric instantly bursting to flame and vanishing into ash. Through gritted teeth, Zagreus responds, "No. You're going home, not me." From a summoning portal that appears the ground comes a massive two-pronged spear, Gigaros, into Hades' waiting hand. It is larger than even the God is, dwarfing Zagreus as he rushes into close range, Stygius already swinging for his Father's side.
The scene, thankfully, cuts itself off before Elidibus can witness who was slaughtered, and who was the victor.
~~~
Shortly after Elidibus returns from his vision, he hears the telltale sound of Zagreus' Dash echoing down the length of the Train, and soon Zagreus is rushing into the car, scanning the Food Stores car for any sign of life. "Elidibus!" He calls to the presumably empty car, before his stare follows the lifeline to its origin point, and Zagreus glares daggers at the exact spot the Ascian's aether is inhabiting. "We need to talk." His voice is clipped, indignant. The jig seems to be up.