#conversations with Xixa

[an-ishgardian-tale]

"So I hear congradulations are in order, dear." It was rare that Viviane was so lost in thought that someone could make it through the door of the bakery without her becoming keenly aware that they were there. In fact when she heard the voice she practically jumped out of her skin. This voice was far away from where it should have been, especially in her current condition.

"Xixa?" She practically dropped the cup of tea she had been sipping at without thought "Twelve, does Liri know you-"

"Don't quite care what the child knows. Now I will take a cup of that Moko tea you make with the mint and you will come sit with me." The tap of her can could be heard across the wooden floorboards, and her sightless eyes peered out just enough from behind the dark glasses she wore that Viviane could make out the blank white space they had become.

"Yes of course." Vi straightened her back and set down her cup, quickly bustling into the kitchen where she fixed the cup of tea Xixa requested, then filled her own again, dropping dollops of golden toned honey into each before picking them up and returning to the seating area.

"It is good to see you have been taking care of yourself. Your Aether is at the strongest I have seen it since you arrived in the Shroud." This was the eerie part she had learned about Xixa's ability, once her sight was gone she could see things in the Skein that no other could, or at least no other Vi had known.

"He has helped a great deal." She said quietly, setting down the cups on the table then turning towards the door to pull down the shade and slip the lock into place so they would be uninterrupted. The last thing she needed was someone else coming in through the door while she was talking about personal matters. Her recent marriage made her keenly aware of both of her husbands' influences in their work and beyond.

"I can see that girl" Xixa locked her gaze on where Viviane stood, it was terrifying really that a blind woman could so easily find her. "Come and sit I have something important for you." The was a rustle in the old bag the Miqo'te carried and by the time Vi sat down adjacent to her a brown wrapped package sat on the table near the Elezen's tea.

"Before she passed your Aunt Doshaine entrusted this to me. She knew the lifestream called for her. She could see the waters rising around her ankles and the chill tugging at her soul. Now go on open it and I will explain." Xixa carefully reached out in front of her finding the cup of tea with relative ease and she lifted it to her lips while Vi shakily reached for the package.

"Still odd heading her called Aunt. All those years and I never found out until after she was gone." Nimble fingers tugged at the strings that bound the package there was such precision in the way they moved and in no time the paper fell away to reveal a familiar journal only this one was not as old looking as the others in the collection.

"Twelve is this?" She found herself barely speak the words, her hand reaching out to rest on the cover, the soft leather with its long ties made her smile and she could almost sense her Aunt's energy patterns there upon it.

"Started the day you arrived in the Shroud and written in every day after until she returned to the Sea." Xixa replied with a curt nod. "I know it is difficult to understand why you were never told until she was gone, but you arrived with a great deal of hate in your heart. You didn't need to find anymore of your Mother's secrets, Girl."

Careful fingers traced the cover, releasing the old scents of cinnamon and honey that Doshsine always carried as a scent. There were times when she was baking that the same scent would catch her attention and it always came with emotions she fought hard to contain.

"She told me right before she passed that I was to give you this only when you had settled into your path and moved on. Your recent wedding makes it a fine time and a good gift. That way she shares it with you. Book is enchanted, you can read no more than two pages in a sitting and if you try the pages go blank." A chuckle came from her then which ended in a wheeze and a hiccup "Spinner bless her. She had such a way with weaving Aether." Reaching for her tea again Xixa looked Vi's way.

Viviane looked from journal cover to darkened shades only to look back again. "The history of her and my Mother's childhood then?" It was times like these she thanked the stars above she did not have to breathe for it would have been impossible had she tried.

"There are things in this journal that will break your heart, secrets that you will find that will take Moons to digest. This is the tale you have sought the least and feared the most. I think you are ready for it, it will hurt but then it will help. It is more than their childhood it is their story, all of it." Sitting back in her chair then the Miqo'te brought out a small pipe, filled it with tobacco and then puffed on it till the scent filled the room.

"She loved you more than she could tell you girl. Words always got in the way. Only reason I could see it was she was like a Mother to me as well. I knew love when I saw it on her face. That journal will give you no great power, there is no spells to find. It will give you knowledge, though. Hells I almost wish I could read it myself, but that is not in my cards, only yours."

The scent of the smoke sent Vi into her apron for her own smoking case, there was silence in her motion in was that quick that even if Xixa could see she would not have noticed.

"You will not be getting your sight back again will you." The question had lingered on her tongue for a sennight now, while she could see the Aether that lingered there it felt empty to her, an unfilled space and it had dawned on her the truth.

"In time I will, girl. Doshaine told me turns ago a day would come when I gave my eyes to someone in need, an important sign. Used to think it was you but my sight came back in days. I laughed at her then, told her I would never be so foolish. In the end, it wasn't a fool thing at all, came out of my old dusty heart. Could you keep that out of your Brother's pointy ears for now? I have one nursemaid following me like I am a wee one who can't care for herself. Don't need that red-headed jerk of yours doing it too."

Vi snorted and then picked up her teacup her head shaking lightly "Say it like that I would think you had a crush on him Xixa. Reminds me of when I was a young girl smitten." Out of the corner of her eye, she looked and she smirked at the reaction she got.

"Did it rain when you did the handfasting?" The Mooncatte replied with a well-placed change of subject; her own grin lingering on her lips.

[starres-stuff]

Day 9: Lend an Ear -FFXIV Write 2024

Lend an Ear: listen sympathetically or attentively.

“Why do you do it? I will never understand that. They are in and out of this house more than your children, Mother.” 

Xixa's oldest daughter was in a tizzy that morning, her daughter Lunah, had her first teeth coming in and hadn't let the girl sleep a wink. When she showed up on Xixa's doorstep it took the Viera no more than a few minutes to settle the baby down in the spare room with a teething rattle she kept in the freezer for such occasions. Now Xixa was making breakfast for the rest of the house and entertaining Liri's grumpy questions.

“Best to open the door to others than close it in their face. We all need someone to talk to, girl. Doesn't hurt a bit to lend an ear to a troubled soul.” This morning it would be pancakes and sausage for them all, the platter was already piled high and Xixa kept adding more. She was always prepared for guests, she had to be. 

“But who do you talk to when you need someone, Mom? You are everyone else's sounding board like Lady Vi says, but who do you turn to?” Liri felt like she had a hangover at the moment from the lack of sleep, and she was already prepared to get some sleep after breakfast, on the couch so she wouldn't wake Lunah. 

“The trees, girl. The grass, the elements, and the Shroud herself. Some of us are put here to help others, Liri. We don't think about our needs, we aren't selfish about our time or our love. We just open ourselves to the turn of the Wheel and what comes through the door, Spinner provides, is ours to handle this day. Today it was you and my screaming Grandbaby. Tomorrow, who knows.” Another pancake hit the pile and then Xixa turned to grab the sausage, tossing it into the same cast iron pan she had already used. The sounds of Lahsih and Volhi filled the house as they woke to the smells of breakfast and scrambled to get ready for lessons in town. 

“Don't you feel used though? People are always here with their problems instead of seeing you?” Liri rested her chin on the edge of her cup, her long ears just falling flat from exhaustion. 

“If I did, girl, I would have shut the door in your damn face this morning or not gotten up to answer it at all. It is my path in life, and I was given the tools I needed to walk that path. There is nothing to feel used about. People just need an ear. Life is hard, look at yourself just nineteen with a daughter going on two. We all need someone, and I just don't mind being that person. Sure it hurts sometimes, people ignore you and push you away.” Xixa's shoulders raised into a shrug, but her ears stayed alert, the sounds of the house never allowing them to rest. It was her responsibility to keep the others safe. 

“I don't see the happiness in that. There must be something you want in return, something you search for from them that you let them in.” Liri was at the point of passionate protest which was nothing new for the young woman, she still had a lot of growing to do. 

“Go get your sisters for breakfast now. I'm just about done.” This was the end of the conversation and as Liri huffed then stomped out of the room, like the brat she always had been, Xixa shifted her eyes to the window and looked out it at the sunny morning the Shroud had given them, a measure of sadness in her eyes and she whispered to herself. 

“Just want them to love me. No matter how far apart we are, no matter if we can ever be together. That's what I want. That they would just be with me and just stop running away.” as she finished speaking a soft wind blew in the window to ruffle her hair and wrap her plump frame with a hug that only the air could give. 

[the-sharlyan-song]

The Pictomancer??

"What are you doing, Kupo" the voice came out of nowhere causing the Sharlyan to swivel his head this way and that. Dimitri had taken the morning to paint a rather pleasing location in the depths of the Shroud where a waterfall rushed over a study rock face into an abnormally clear pool surrounded by trees and lush greens. In all the Moons he had lived there now, he had still not adjusted to stray voices in the woods. This, however, was not a normal voice and these were not just anywoods.

"I am painting." it was the simplest answer he could muster and he found himself hoping that it would be all he needed to say to encourage whomever had come upon him to leave so that he might continue his project.

"Painting, strange magic you have there Kupo." The voice continued on, and again his head moved. This way and that way causing his long ginger hair to slap him in the face a few times before he finally just sighed. "Well come out already if you are going to keep talking at least let me see your face and why are you calling me Kupo? Are you pretending you are a Moogle today?" Dimitri was a master at keeping his voice even and polite even when inside he could feel his irritation growing. Painting was one of the few things in life that stilled his spirit besides an afternoon hike with Laurent and the untimely interruption had taken that from him. Still, Xixa had warned him of wood sprites, sylphs, and all forms of other creatures that lived in the Twelveswood and enjoyed sneaking up on those who believed they were alone.

"Well, Kupo. It may have to do with the fact I am what you call a Moogle." This was when Dimitri heard the air around him tear apart as something swiftly moved through it, the sound of wings buzzing past his ears and then there it was. The white-furred, black beady eyes, small winged and orange pom, shape of one of Eorzea's strangest creatures. "You may call me Mogbius"

At first, the Sharlayan sat there staring, this was in fact one of the things that Xixa had warned him about. It was not rare to see them in the woods, but it was rare for them to approach one of the humanoid races unless something unique attracted them and it was rather hard to determine what Mogbius could have found interesting at this stage in the conversation.

"You do know, Kupo, it is polite to introduce yourself." The creature nudged, leaning in just a bit further so that their noses almost touched "I am Mogbius." it said again "And you are?" Dimitri found himself swallowing hard, there were stories all over Sharlayan about not giving things that asked your name because you never knew what power they gained when they did. This was especially important to the Occult Investigators as their line of work was rather volatile at times.

"Pan!" he squeaked out, out of nowhere thinking of the cast iron frying pan he tripped over that morning on his way out of the cottage door, he had set it on the ground the night before to catch droplets of rain from holes in the roof and then forgotten that it was even there. Of course this way pre-coffee and he was rather surprised he didn't break his foot in the process.

"Pan, that is a strange enough name Kupo, but I accept this." Around his head, the moogle moved several times and then it came to a stop in front of him again. "You are a strange one, come here paint for me, Kupo. I must see if I see it again."

By this time the entire interaction had Dimitri on edge, but he turned his attention back to the scene on the easel and nodded "Is there something particular that you wish to see Mogbius?" one thing was true even in the strangest moments of his life, the Duskwight was always polite and kind, even when his heart was racing out of his chest like it was now.

"I noticed the glimmer when you were painting this, Kupo." outstretched a paw and it pointed towards the rushing water over the rocky face. "Paint more of that, Kupo, I must see up close to understand you."

A rather odd look appeared on Dimitri's face then he dipped his brush into the mix of white and grey that he had prepared for that particular part. That was one odd thing about the Shroud, almost none of the water he had ever seen while exploring carried that blue tone that you often saw in other bodies of water. The water here either carried shades of green, shades of grey, or if you were lucky sometimes both from the light that streamed through the trees and created the stunning aesthetic. "Alright then, I was just about to start the pool when I heard your voice." He commented finally, his hand reaching out steadily and his mind following after it, thankfully he had sketched the lines for this particular piece before he had arrived to paint it that morning. It made it rather easy then follow his process and begin to fill in the colors where they belonged.

"Yes, yes there it is again, Kupo." The Moogle said excitedly, spinning around in mid-air gleefully. "Can you not see it, Kupo, the water is moving in the painting." Its paw moved again to a particular place in the area Dimitri had just painted. "What you paint comes to life! Oh, that is very good. It has been a while since I met one of your kind, Kupo."

"One of my what? What do you mean kind? Is this one of your Moggle mind tricks? I've been warned about the lot of you a few times over by my Mentor." he brandished his brush then like it was a weapon even swiping at the air in front of him in erratic motions.

"You are a Pictomancer, Kupo." the creature replied proudly like it had just found a shiny little treasure in the woods all its very own. "You look young, Kupo, so you cannot be from long ago but I must know, has anything strange ever happened, Kupo, while painting?" The question made Dimitri blink and he found his head nodding. "Well yes, when I was younger I was painting a kitten and I accidentally trapped it on the canvas. Oh, they were most cross with me, and it took the Professors bells to figure out how to get it back out. They eventually did, of course, and the darling was not harmed at all. After that, I was not allowed to paint anything living and I had special lessons that discouraged me from ever doing that again. Eventually, I stopped using magic altogether, the Sharylans were not much for fighting, I did lean standard hand-to-hand combat. It was not until recently that I began exploring my magical capabilities again under the guidance of my Mentor." a frown appeared on his youthful face.

"It is just magic, Kupo, strong magic yes but just magic all the same. Instead of telling you no Kupo, they should have taught you how to use it. You can still learn Kupo, there is time." Mogbius finally came to a stop right beside Dimitrti again, watching the painting and what he could see there that was hidden from the Duskwights eyes.

"How can I learn what I cannot see?" It had always been a question that rose in him when magic was involved. He felt so stunted in his growth compared to his Sister, and this just made him feel a bit worse than he already had.

"It is an old art, Kupo. Far older than any Moogle had ever lived. You will figure this out, Kupo! Give it time." and right before Dimitri could ask another question the creature disappeared into thin air leaving him in the clearing alone again which was another thing that Xixa had warned him about. The never stayed long, often gave you more riddles than truths and then vanished leaving you with far too many questions for you to answer.

"Well fuck, now what." His eyes returned to the painting and he stared at it, trying to see the water move like the Moogle had but all he saw was paint.

[greybat]

Fire & Leeches

Summary: Modern!AU (with magic.) Xixa is... well, not really enjoying but not hating a night out with Asra at one of Vesuvia’s famed clubs. However, her curiosity and interest become piqued when a particular band takes the stage.

Chapter 1: Tight Pants

Friday night. Party night pretty much everywhere. Especially in Vesuvia’s famed club: The Garden. Xixa perched on a tall stool, sipping at an alcohol-infused orange soda. To be perfectly honest, this wasn’t her scene. Others chattered away, in flocks, breezing from group to group. Even from her little corner, she spotted more sequins, sheer material, and tight pants than she’d seen… well, ever.

It wasn’t that Xixa was a prude and she had nothing against exuberant social outings, but she had focused so much time on the little mystical store and studying magic. Between general day-to-day upkeep and various divination readings, Xixa didn’t feel much need or have much energy to socialize in noisy settings. Not that she had much of anyone to socialize with, either.

However, her roommate/co-worker had finally returned from one of his many road trips. She had agreed to grudgingly celebrate, despite all the work that had to be done. Xixa had already heard, over the last two days, every minute detail of his last journey. Not that she didn’t love hearing about his journeys, but there was only so many times you can listen to a man talk about how delicious blue-tailed skink was before you worried he’d land it on the endangered species list.

On the stage, the warm-up band had finished their set. The performers bowed while the emcee took the stage. “Weren’t they awesome? Now, welcome back to the stage, the Fire & Leeches!”

Across the table, Asra stiffened, his lip curling in disgust. “Ugh, he’s playing?”

The sudden shift in temperature around the table caught Xixa’s attention. Her gaze flickered to her roommate, curious about the sudden chill in the air. ‘He?’ Did Asra mean… “Your ex?”

Her roommate sniffed and shifted. “Yeah.”

Xixa sighed after a sip of her weak alcohol. The desire to leave fought with her eternal curiosity. It wouldn’t do to make him stay, though. He’d be a quiet grouch for the rest of the night, if not week. “I’m sorry, Asra. Do you want to leave?”

“No, I’m not going to let him ruin my night,” groused the white-haired man. Nonetheless he dismissed himself to use the restroom.

As Asra took off, weaving his way through the thick crowd, Xixa sighed. A quiet bubble descended around her while everyone else gossiped and guffawed. Though it wasn’t her scene, having someone to talk to would have been nice.

After a few parting words from the previous act, and the band bumbling off the stage, the lights dimmed. Three figures took the stage, prepping their equipment. Xixa took mental notes of the members, reaching out her intuition to gently read their auras.

An extremely tall, muscular figure stood near the back, fiddling with a guitar. Their long hair was pulled into a messy bun, but long bangs framed their square face. Dark green hovered around him and, in Xixa’s intuition, wolves fluttered about. No, Asra described his ex as a redhead.

The second person on stage tossed his dark, long braid behind his back as he adjusted his strap to his bass. His muddled seemed muted, possibly from own innate ability. Or he was good at hiding himself. Either way, he wasn’t a redhead, so Xixa moved on.

Another band member – curly red hair pulled into a ponytail and streaked with blue, matching her eyes – sat behind the drum set, twirling a drumstick and calling out laughingly to someone still behind the curtain. Well, unless Xixa had completely misunderstood Asra, that wasn’t him either.

So, that meant he was still behind the curtain.

The drummer rapped her sticks together, jolting conversations to a halt and drawing slightly irritated gazes her way. Though, there seemed to be a breathless anticipation.

“Hey, ya drunken fuckers!” The drummer grinned as some of the groupies in the crowd cheered. “My name’s Portia and we’re the Leeches…” She indicated herself and the other two with the drumsticks. The big one didn’t seem to notice or care, however, the bassist frowned deeply at the name. “Fire is having a wardrobe malfunction backstage, so it’ll be a few minutes. Sorry about the delay.”

Xixa and others chuckled at the announcement. Someone flung out a half-muffled quip from across the room. The redhead on stage laughed and pointed to whoever it was, nodding her head animated.

“Can I go help him?” shrieked some woman near Xixa’s table.

A tall figure finally stumbled on stage, glaring daggers at the drummer. He was tall, but not quite as tall as Muscles. Lithe with broad shoulders, dressed in all black – with a particularly tight pair of pants – Xixa could grudgingly see where the screaming woman was coming from. His curly red hair fell over an eye patch, prompting Xixa to wonder if the patch was necessary or a gimmick. A guitar bounced against his hip as he took his position at the front of the group, wrapping his fingers around the mic stand.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, hovering close to the mic. A charming smile quickly slid over his lips. “You all know us, we’re Fire & Leeches. If this is your first time, though, we’ll be gentle.” The man winked to the audience. Xixa hid her amused smile by taking a drink of her orange soda. What a dork.

About three songs into their set, Xixa surprised herself by enjoying Fire & Leeches. She found herself nodding to the rhythm or tapping her fingertips to the songs more than once. Plenty in the crowd seemed to be great fans, shouting out lyrics or requesting specific songs. They weren’t a bad band.

Somewhere in her chest, she felt as if she was betraying Asra. However, she reminded herself enjoying a band wasn’t a deception. Though, she did find her eyes drifting back to the redheaded guitarist, who also acted as the lead vocalist, quite often. Something about his lips was alluring. In between lyrics, he had a habit of biting his lower lip as his long, nimble fingers plucked away at the guitar. Imagining how deft those fingers were, Xixa knew why Asra got involved with him. Well, on the surface, at least. Realizing her mind was drifting, the woman shook her head.

At the thought of Asra, Xixa glanced around. He had left for the restroom a long time ago. Had he gone to refill his expensive drink? That was likely. Another likely outcome was he ran into someone who hadn’t heard about his latest trip. Xixa decided to wait until the band was finished. There were many more bodies crowded into the room since Fire & Leeches began.

The band finished up their last three songs with Xixa worriedly checking her phone for a text from Asra. As they made their closing remarks, people whooped and cheered and applauded. Xixa joined in with a bit of clapping.

From across the table, a sour voice registered, “Guess he’s popular.”

Xixa turned quickly, slightly shocked to find Asra in his seat with a refreshed drink. She had been looking out for him. How could he just slip in without being noticed? He brought with him a shadowy, negative aura as he watched the band finish cleaning up their equipment. Xixa threw a sidelong glance at the redheaded guitarist, itching to ask Asra if that man was his ex. Getting anything out of her roomie tended to be like pulling teeth. Asra muttered, as if reading Xixa’s mind, “Yes, guy with the eye patch.”

“Oh,” Xixa replied, a little awkwardly. She fiddled with the bottle of her drink, long drained, as she scrabbled for something to say. Sorry your ex is popular with fans, but – to be fair – he’s hot? Yeah, that’d go over swimmingly. Asra would be petulant over the next couple days, perhaps even schedule another road trip. The thought of being without her roommate brought a dreadful knot to her stomach. Xixa settled on asking about his absence. “What took you so long?”

“Ah, I ran into some old friends,” Asra replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I think I’m going to head home. My head is hurting.”

“What about your drink?” Xixa bit her cheek, realizing she sounded a little desperate to stay.

He gave a non-committal shrug as he stood. As he gathered his jacket and bag, his purple gaze swept over Xixa’s form, still seated. Asra tilted his head toward her, eyebrows raised, “You coming?”

“No, I’m enjoying people watching.” While that wasn’t entirely true, it wasn’t wrong. She was enjoying watching the patrons of The Garden. Especially that redheaded singer.

A look of confusion passed over her companion’s face. She couldn’t blame him for that look. Enjoying being in a crowded space – loud, full of inebriation, dark – without him wasn’t usually something she’d do. Then again, she didn’t usually get a chance to pry another person for information about Asra.

“All right.” The look of concerned bewilderment lingered, but Asra started his way for the door, throwing Xixa one last wave. When the white-haired man was out of sight, Xixa glanced back to the stage. It was dead empty. Dammit.

Her chin in her hand, Xixa tapped a finger against her lips. Well, she couldn’t call a cab this soon after Asra left. Sighing, she grabbed Asra’s abandoned cocktail. Taking a sip – wincing at the alcohol content – Xixa wondered what she should do to pass the time. People watching in the bar only garnered so much amusement. Maybe another band would take the stage.

Lost in thought, she almost didn’t notice the man carrying an armful of beer. Well, not until he got stopped by a fluttering fan right by her table. Well, it seemed fate was on her side.

“Julian, the show was fabulous tonight!” A fan gushed, fluttering their eyelashes.

“Thank you, but it wouldn’t be a show without such a beautiful audience.”

Xixa covered her mouth, hiding the smile and biting down a laugh. She hadn’t known someone with such a penchant for sweet talk before.

The fan leaned closer to the man, a flirtatious smile stretched over her lips. “I was just wondering what kind of wardrobe malfunction you suffered, backstage.”

“Oh, uh, you know, zippers…” His ears pinked as he fumbled with the bottles in his hands, slightly embarrassed about his earlier snafu being brought up.

“Is that so?” Eyes trailed down the man’s body, plainly lascivious. Her eyes lingered at the crotch of his pants. “I can kiss any injuries better, you know.”

Xixa couldn’t help the laugh that popped out of her mouth. The redhead jumped, startled by the sudden sound, and dropped a couple beers. A cuss flew from his mouth a second before the glass bottles smashed on the floor.

Except, the bottles didn’t smash. They hovered in the air - encased in a gentle glow - a microsecond from the ground. Xixa leaned over, plucking both bottles from their levitated positions.

“Thanks.” Xixa thought a tone of wonder and curiosity filled the redhead’s voice. When she looked up at him, his ears looked about ready to burn off.

“No problem.” She smiled, about to hand him the bottles, before she realized he had very little room in his arms. A tingle crawled over Xixa’s body as he continued to intensely stare. Clearing her throat, the woman nodded toward the bottles he held. “It looks like you could use a hand.”

“An extra hand is always welcome,” he grinned. Xixa wasn’t sure if he meant for the slight double entendre or if she was just being a horndog. So, why not assume both?

Sliding out of her chair, Xixa made sure to gather up her purse and the beer, before turning to the man. Dear lord, he was tall. She shoved the fluttering nerves away and smiled at him. “Lead the way.”

As the two started toward backstage, the fan popped in front of them, having been ignored for too long. “I can help, too!”

“I think we got it.” This time, he didn’t even stop. He simply sidled passed the fan, tossing her a charming smile as he managed by. “Always a pleasure to see you at a show, Fieura.”

Despite Fieura’s glare at the back of her neck, a sense of success radiated inside Xixa. She attributed the fluttery feeling to finally getting a chance to get more information on Asra. Though, her subconscious was starting to believe she had more reasons than prying,as her eyes trailed down her companion’s back to… assets currently on display in those famed tight pants.

[starres-stuff]

Day 1-Steer FFXIV Writes 2024

Steer: a piece of advice or information concerning the development of a situation

The whole way home Vi had fumed, there were even points where it sounded like she was stomping her feet and others where rocks could be heard bouncing off every surface, one clipping her right in the arm which resulted in her yelping so loud that flocks of birds scattered thinking they were in danger. 

What had started the mood was Xixa making a snide remark as they locked up the Bakery for the night. “Maybe tomorrow you'll remember that we start baking at five in the morning and be here on time so I don't have to do it all alone?” Just thinking about it again made Vi grit her teeth. It was her bakery after all and she could start when she wanted! She was well aware that the Viera was trying to steer her down the path of responsibility and she was grateful that the woman came to help her bake, but Vi paid her to work for her, which was a handsome sum. 

Thankfully once she made it home her husbands’ managed to whisk away Xixa's burst, replacing it with good food, lovely conversation, and an early bedtime, which was often one of her favorite things when work had been trying; though sleep would not be on the dossier for hours to come yet. Eventually, they would wear each other out and sleep would become a must. This particular night before Vi drifted off to sleep she set the alarm on her Chronometer for four and a half bells believing the noise alone would get her out of bed and at the bakery on time. 

It was such a sound plan to the Elezen that she fell asleep rather easily on this specific night, and she slept through it without a single awakening, a true rarity for her, and just as was expected the alarm on her Chronometer sounded at four and a half bell. It was terrible to wake up that early, though she did have a few protests in her mind about pulling back the warm blankets and getting out of the comfortable bed where one of her husbands was still sleeping, and for a long moment, she stared at his face, a small smile appearing on her own at how adorable he looked. Vi hated leaving him this early in the morning but eventually, she forced herself to move, her feet just about to touch the floor when she felt strong arms go around her waist. 

“Not yet” a sleepy voice murmured, still rich with the accent of the Corethas Highlands but tempered by Gridania undertones from the time he had spent living there. “Too early.” 

Vi felt her heart sink, this was what she was weak to. Both of her husbands had this sway with her and she found herself looking back over her shoulder hoping that this one would fall back to sleep. Alas, she would find a pair of mismatched eyes, one as bright as the sun and the other as bright as the moon, gazing back at her with an impish grin on her face. The impish grin he wore told her he was wide awake and likely woke up with her alarm. 

“You are such a brat, Clement.” she couldn’t help but laugh at the second tug that came at her waist. 

“Come back to bed, it is too early for work.” He protested, his arms growing tighter around her “I haven’t even had a proper chance to bid you a good morning yet.” Those stunning eyes of his took on the look of what Xixa called ‘puppy dog eyes’ and Vi felt her resolve melt away a little bit more. 

“I have to go beloved” She shook her head and tried to pull away from his arms, but he tightened them again this time succeeding in moving her backward when he tugged at her waist. 

“No, you don’t it is too early” He protested again, placing a few kisses on her back rising upwards to leave further kisses on her shoulder, her neck, and then finally her lips. 

At this point, Vi had lost the ‘get out of bed early’ battle, and all the work she had put into being to the bakery on time to help Xixa with the list they had made before closing was lost to Clement’s eyes and his kisses. The next thing she knew her normal eight bells alarm went off, and Clement gave her a wink. 

“It is time to get up beloved, you will be late for work.” This was one of those mornings that Vi punched him in the shoulder and rightfully so. 

[starres-stuff]

Day 23: On Cloud Nine FFXIV Writes 2024

CW/TW: Difficult Childhood, Difficult relationship with parent

On Cloud Nine: to be extremely happy and excited

“It was difficult being around her at times. It felt like she could suck the happiness out of a room in one breath. I remember the summer I was accepted to train as a ballet dancer for one of the larger Ishgardian groups. I ran to her office with the letter in my hand, I was so excited to have the chance and all she did was pluck it out of my hands, ball up the invitation, and toss it in the garbage. All while looking right through me and simply saying no.” 

Viviane's nose crinkled profoundly as she finished telling Xixa the tale, the pair had been exchanging stories about their childhood and their parents as they baked cookies and iced cakes for the next day's business. The long hours they often spent together in the small bakery they have created a friendship between them that went beyond mentor and student as they had once been when Viviane first arrived in the Shroud. 

“Something I learned from my Mother that yours could have used. You can't take your issues out on your children. You are responsible for letting them live out their lives while gently nudging them forward to adulthood. I can't tell ya the number of times I pretended to be on Cloud Nine for one of my girls, all the while crying on the inside because I had a shitty day, even when my Liri came home pregnant at seventeen I hid all the things I wanted to say because she was happy.” 

Xixa lifted her arm, her hand dragging across her forehead to wipe away the tiny beads of sweat that had formed from having the four ovens going. The good thing was the Shroud was preparing for another autumn season and the temperatures were not as bad as they had been all summer, but the heat these ovens could pump out was enough to feel like you were in one of those sweat lodges she had seen at those new-fangled spa places she kept hearing about. What she did not realize was that she had left streaks of flour going up into her mostly jet-black hair, which made it look like her natural silver streaks had grown bigger. 

“You can't punish your children for your life, always remember that if you have your own. Hurts like the hells bit you when you realize what you missed out on but it is for the best.” 

Across the room at another oven, Vi was taking stacks of chocolate chip mint cookies from the oven and setting them on the rack before placing another full pan in and setting the timer for them to back. These conversations had always made her feel like she had found the Sister she wanted in Xixa, the Viera was older than she and had experienced many things that she was willing to share. “She was a very cold woman, colder than even me. Even when we reconnected after she arrived in Gridania, she was aloof at best. I would try to get her to talk about family history or the things that I needed to know about running the house or managing its assets. She would hand me books of instructions to read and she would wave me off like I was some staff member being shooed off to work so I stopped bothering her. The odd thing was, she was much kinder to everyone else than she was to me.” 

All Xixa could do was shake her head “Well anytime you have good news you want to share come see Vi if your husbands aren't home. I'll hoot and holler with you, dance around on cloud nine. I don't make light of how that woman treated you. Your Aunt Doshaine used to tell me the same about her Sister. Only met her once myself. She handed me her bag and coat like I was house staff. Doshaine apologized to me for that for turns. The thing is as we get older, I think we have to be our, own, parents if it makes sense. What happened, happened. It is behind you now, but the things that make you feel the worst, change them into things you like or ways you would have enjoyed. Used to tell one of my patients to talk to herself, adult to child when the memories hit her, you are safe now after all. That woman has no power here.” 

Outside there was a sudden clap of thunder and three cracks of lightning, then the rain came, the sound of it hitting the roof made Vi look up towards the ceiling. “It’s creepy how when you or Dimitri give advice there is a storm.” It was a change of topic, but Xixa understood it, some things were too hard to talk about. They took time to take seed and grow in a person’s mind. 

“Maybe it’s Shroud Magic, maybe it is a coincidence.” Xixa grinned and gave Vi a wink. “Don’t rattle your pan about it too much, girl, it will leave you confused and without answers.” 

[starres-stuff]

FFXIV Writes 2023 | Day 19 | Weal

After being stung by something in the yard Dimitri's Sister, Viviane takes care of the weal and gives him a lesson in the history of the War of the Magi at the same time.

“What happened to you?” The question came the second he sat down on the front steps of the cottage, only it wasn’t Xixa who asked it, instead, it came in the familiar voice of his Sister who just happened to stop by.

“Stung by something,” Dimitri muttered, as he suspiciously looked around to make certain Xixa wasn’t about to join this conversation. “I was trying to get a piece of paper that blew out of my hand out of that area over there and next thing I know there’s a sharp pinch and something flies off angrily.”

With a soft sigh Viviane sat on the steps next to him and then pulled his arm into her hands “Let me look at it, how are you feeling? Any tightness in your throat? Any trouble breathing?” He let her have the arm without much of a fight and marveled as she searched the raised and reddened area for any signs of a stinger.

“I feel perfectly fine, that thing itches like mad.” It was now day four since he had arrived at the cottage to prepare for his woodsin cleansing and do some work around the cottage to prepare for him to move in, in a sennight or so from today. It had been one mini catastrophe after the other and he was ready to tell Vi to take her job back at this point.

“It’s called a weal,” she explained, looking up at him. “It can happen with sudden pressure, allergy, or as you have found out; bug bites. It was likely nothing deadly or you wouldn’t be sitting here talking to me but I can at least ease the swelling for you. There are some herbs in the garden we can crush into a paste just in case there is a stinger in there that will also help with the itching. You will be fine and even better once the cleansing is done.” Dimitri could feel the aether move around him, and then a very dedicated sense of ice focused down on the small swelling to relieve it.

“How did you learn to do that? Without a staff I mean? I have watched you do magic more than once and I cannot understand how it is that you don’t need a focus to do it.” This caused Viviane to look up at him, her eyebrow even arched a little. He never asked about her magic before, in fact, he always seemed like he feared her because of it.

“Tools aren’t as needed as people think they are.” She started to explain. “Sure if I used a staff as a foci I would have an even better focus than I already do, and sometimes I will use one most of the time I simply touch the aether I want and then just use it. I have thought for ages now that it was a system of checks and balances. A lot of things you cannot get unless you are a member of one of the Guilds or you know someone who knows someone.” After a few minutes of the direct cold, she removed her hand and placed his arm on his leg while she went to pick a few certain herbs from the Garden. Her voice carried back to him as she did.

“It is easier to control people when you make them all believe that they have to do this thing and if they do not they will never be what they want to be. What most do not see brother is that by going to the guild they are also turning their names in to be kept on record and accessed by anyone. It is a roster of who has what type of magic.” A leaf here, and a lead there fell into her hand as if the plants just gave willingly to her then she rose to head inside to make the paste she spoke of in the mortar and pestle that she had left for him to use.

“I do not quite understand why?” Dimitri replied standing up and then following her in the door at least today he did not end up with the door in his face. He also tried not to scratch the hell out of his arm while he waited, instead leaning on the wall by the front work area while she created the paste.

“Something changes in you.” Vi looked up for a moment, this had been the first real talk they had had in ages. Most of the time when they chatted it was they slapping each other with sarcasm and wit but this Dimitri was far more open than usual which she recognized as something she had gone through as well, the period of questioning that came from being exposed to the Elements, even though they rested.

“Your mind is opening to new possibilities, I admit I am proud. I know you don’t know Eorzean History as I do, but I attribute much of the need for control to the War of the Magi.” She continued on, working the herbs into a fine powder, then grabbed a few alchemical agents she left behind to mix in. “The War of the Magi involved the void mages from the City of Mhach, the Scholar from the Floating City of Nym, and the white mages of Amdapor. They were three extraordinary powers and there is not a single historian alive that knows why the war broke out.”

Dimitri found himself sitting there quietly, watching as she worked on the paste and listening intently to all she had to say. He had known for some time that his Sister was a Historian, that it had been her path since she was young like following in their Mother’s footsteps but what he never could grasp was why she often acted as if she knew nothing at all.

“The Jienuex Family is a descendent of a Researcher who was from the City of Mhach. This is nothing to be proud of Dimitri, and please never let it go to your head. The Mhachi people were ruthless and frivolous. While it was a War all sides were guilty of their crimes. The Mhachi were ruthless in their use of magic. They summoned things from the void without thought. They sent a creature to the Floating City that started the Green Death which resulted in the creation of toneberries and to Amdapor they sent Diabolos.'' Her face grew more and more serious as she recounted the tale, the paste thickening under her careful work with what appeared to be a stirrer made of wood and once she was happy with it she approached.

“The three sides together eventually tipped the balance of aether to that of water, causing the Sixth Umbral Calamity.” her head shook “They had been at it for centuries when it happened, generation after generation joining the fray. It was an abuse of ambient aether that caused it. The natural aether that touches us on all sides. Not the aether that we store within us.” giving a soft hum, Vi dipped her fingers into the paste and started packing it around the weal which had gotten angrier looking while she had been working on the medicine for it.

“It is my belief that because of this, when the Sixth Astral Era arrived the modern City-States rose from the wreckage of the Great Flood. They chose to manage magic in a different way, by making supplies hard to get and registration with the Guilds the only way to make the connections to get them for you. The exception was Ishgard who simply focused on educating any and all who managed to make it in the door of the Scholasticate. There is no access to the Guilds there, and I cannot see there ever being. Last I knew there wasn’t even a representation of them there. I am like Mother, a Thaumaturge. My years in captivity with the Lambs taught me ways to use my magic that require me only to be present in my body. It is terrifying Dimitri even to one who has it.”

Scooping the last of the paste from the small bowl she had placed it, she instilled a chill into it with her aether to keep it cool and then began to clean up after herself. Whispers of thanks to the sleeping elements ringing in Dimitri’s ears as she did.

“So in many ways, it is like Sharlayan then?” It had been something he thought about a lot lately, the way the people of the Island were raised, the training they went through. The lack of uniqueness and white walls everywhere. It was cleansed, pristine, and in the outside world he had come to realize it was quite strange.

“In a way I suppose. I do not know much history of your culture or the Island. They have done well to obscure much of it and they tend not to share much which keeps us Historians from analyzing records and data for truth. It is also not proper to just guess that is how information becomes corrupted.” She looked at him for a long moment, then offered him a bit of a smile.

“I do recommend not going back there, however, it sounds like you have lived in a cult for twenty-eight years. Either do as you are told or suffer the Forum's wrath. That is what it felt like being one of the Lambs, especially as I got older. I was not allowed to be anyone but who they told me to be. The thing you have to realize is not all cults are interested in ending the world. Some just want to control people.”

Something on her brother’s face made her stop speaking, her eyes widened for a moment and then she returned to her cleaning. Letting the silence of the cottage wash over both of them.

[greybat]

Fire & Leeches - Ch. 5

Summary: Modern!AU (with magic.) Xixa is… well, not really enjoying but not hating a night out with Asra at one of Vesuvia’s famed clubs. However, her curiosity and interest become piqued when a particular band takes the stage.

Chapter Summary: Julian and Muriel visit Xixa at her shoppe. Death comes to visit.

Ao3 Link Tumblr Links: Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 

“Is Asra here?” Muriel asked, his voice deep and gentle. Julian didn’t meet Xixa’s eyes as she turned curious eyes on him. Internally, he cursed Muriel for being so forthright. Couldn’t he have handled this a little more discreetly?

She looked between the two of them, before shaking her head. Faintly, she wondered if Julian would bolt if she muttered an affirmative answer. “No, he left a few days ago. There’s a metaphysics convention somewhere up north.”

Muriel turned toward Julian, a slightly put-out edge to his voice, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, can you manage?”

The flush finally crawled over Julian’s cheeks, feeling like he had been reprimanded for being childish. Of course, he couldn’t blame Muriel’s irritation. His friend – too – had to listen to the redhead bemoan and pine over his phone for the last couple weeks, waiting for a text from Xixa. Still, Julian puffed up a little in irritation, but nodded. Muriel, satisfied with Julian’s wordless reply, wandered off toward the books, stopping to scrutinize a wolf statue on the way.

Xixa and Julian stood by the front door, awkwardly. Neither knowing where to look. Xixa had gathered, from the exchange between the two, that Julian held apprehensions over seeing Asra. Or maybe being seen by the magician? It boiled down to the same thing, regardless.

“So,” Xixa pressed her lips together, not entirely sure how to start a sudden conversation. It was easier with alcohol. She fell back into her salesperson routine, “Are you looking for anything, in particular?”

“You, to be perfectly honest.”

“Oh,” A flare of heat crawled down the back of her neck. Xixa’s mind scrabbled for a witty retort and simply landed on, “Um, so the scrubs?”

He glanced down at his uniform. After a moment’s debate, Julian decided on his answer. “I work at the hospital. Remember?”

Xixa fingered through her memories of that night. All the things said, all the feelings. She suppressed a shudder, thinking of the touches shared, and found the words she sought, “Oh, right, your morgue connections and the hearse.”

“Not as entertaining now that you’re sober, is it?” This was something Julian feared. If all of her amusement at the Garden had been assisted with inebriation. Right now, he could use a drink.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she flashed a slight smile. Her eyes took on a mischievous glint as she trailed her gaze down him. “I have many of the same opinions from that night.”

This time, the flash of heat went down Julian’s body. He averted his eye as a flush crept over his cheeks, finding his gaze trailing toward the collection of tarot cards. On impulse, he said, “So, do you do readings?”

“Allegedly, I’m the best diviner in the city. Next to Asra, but he’s hardly around, so…” Xixa finished her commentary with a shrug. As if to say, ‘it doesn’t really matter.’ In truth, it didn’t really to her. Even when she gave readings, more than half of her clients were first-timers who didn’t listen. The rest listened to her a little too intently. Xixa had to establish a one reading per day rule, otherwise people were calling her up, asking her what they should order at Le Restaurant or what channel they should watch for optimum entertainment.

“Read my cards?” Julian turned his gaze toward Xixa. Only a handful of fortunetellers and witches had ever read his cards. To be honest, he was left less than impressed. Except for when Asra had done it. Julian caught Xixa’s gaze flickering to his companion with uncertainty. Following her gaze, he waved her worries away. “Muriel will be fine.”

Apprehension licked at Xixa’s mind, though. Usually, she scheduled readings for preparation. The day had been slow, but leaving Muriel to the front meant potential customers may wander in and maybe even ask him questions. She could just lock the door, but then she missed window shoppers.

The way Julian watched her, a mixture of challenge and yearning, in his eye forced Xixa’s hand, though.

“All right, follow me.” She led the way through a curtained doorway, into the back room. Compared to the front, this room had been decorated for atmosphere. A single table sat in the middle of the room, draped in a tablecloth. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, swathed in sheer draperies that seemed to be born from the walls. A squat bookshelf held Xixa’s preferred methods of divining: tarot and oracle cards or, if the mood struck her, her crystal ball. On a lower shelf, bags of runes and a case that held her pendulums sat, a little dustier. On the very top of the bookshelf, an incense burner sat next to several scents.

Julian inhaled sharply, remembering this room. Memories of when it looked different, of coming back here with the magician, ticked at his brain. Xixa didn’t seem to notice his reaction as she bent down to go through a rather extensive shelve of tarot cards.

Out of habit, Xixa reached for her most commonly used deck. However, she paused. Her first deck, and the most used, was a deck from Asra. Would Julian recognize it? Xixa didn’t want to chance upsetting him. Her fingertips skimmed over the cards, landing on a group that tugged at her energies.

As she sat down at the table, shuffling the cards in hand to charge them with her energies, she eyed Julian. He had taken a seat at the table, as to be expected. He lounged in the chair across from her, the scrubs clashing with his almost cavalier attitude. Though he seemed at ease, his eye watched her with an almost nervous intensity. Clearing her throat, Xixa managed to ask, “What would you like to ask the cards?”

“Uh…” Shit, he hadn’t really put much thought into that. “How’s the rest of my year going to go?”

Xixa tried to keep herself from wincing. It was a go-to “simple” question for the cards, from the eyes of someone unfamiliar with tarot reading. She found it so much harder, though, than simply asking what the day, week, or – at most – the month held in store. A year? It just seemed to strain the cards and herself. But, she focused her energy and shuffled the cards, gently.

She waited until her fingertips itched with energy. Flipping over a card, she quietly prayed it wasn’t ‘Lovers.’ She wasn’t going to keep a straight face if it was that card. Sometimes, this deck liked to tease her.

“Death.”

Okay, cards, let’s not go completely the other way.

The two stared at Death, Julian with obviously more apprehension. He shifted in his seat, lips twisted into a frown. “So, I suppose I should start divvying up my estate?”

“It doesn’t mean it like that.” Xixa sighed. People tended to freak out when Death came calling in the cards. Picking up the Death card, she closed her eyes and focused, trying to find the best words for this particular situation. “It’s circumstantial and Death isn’t saying you’ll die. It’s about the metaphorical death of situations and feelings. Though, I can’t guarantee it won’t be painful, you’ll finally put some a big issue – or multiple issues – to rest. And then you can move on.”

When she opened her eyes, Julian’s heavy gaze studied the table cloth. Though she couldn’t see his eye, she could feel an inner struggle radiating from him.

“I actually like the Death card, to be honest.” Xixa laid the card down gently, garnering Julian’s attention. Her gaze traced the image on the familiar card. The card depicted a figure in profile, shrouded in a black cloak or coat. It wore a beak-like mask, carrying a bag in one hand and an iconic scythe in the other. Behind the figure, a cascade of glowing blue flowers, in various states of bloom, trailed after their feet. Meanwhile before them, silhouettes of sickly trees stretched before them. “Shucking old pains, overcoming, heading off into a new life, so to speak. It starts with the death of an old situation that may be problematic or simply not ideal for you.”

Sudden weight on the table made Xixa look. Julian leaned his elbow on the table, chin cupped in his hand and a masked look in his eye. His gaze fell down to the card, studying the image. “You know, plague doctors were awful human beings?”

“Oh?”

“They did all sorts of nasty things to their patients. Blood-letting, leeches, baking mercury-coated patients in an oven are just a few examples.” His other hand counted off the transgressions, before curling in on itself. “A lot of them had never been through any sort of medical training, either. Fakes.”

“I see,” Xixa smiled, slightly narrowing her eyes. Intuition was telling her Julian’s feelings were of a more personal nature, warping plague doctors into something closer to home. What the truth was, Xixa wasn’t sure. “I’m sure some were trying their best, though. To keep patients alive and well.”

Julian let out a bark of laughter, rough and loud. And none too funny. It was bitter and, to Xixa, sounded a bit self-deprecating.

Tentatively, she decided to poke at the negative energy surrounding Julian. “You seem to be in a bad mood.”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, gaze drawing away from her.

Xixa slipped the Death card back into the deck and shuffled them. It kept her hands busy. “In my experience, my clients talking about how the reading makes them feel gives me more insight.”

Julian heaved a sigh. “It’s just so vague and there’s so many situations that could end. My job at the hospital, for starters, stresses me out. Long hours, long nights, little appreciation. Then there’s the band and general inner turmoil things. And then there’s-” Julian stopped short. He had almost spat out ‘you and Asra’ to Xixa’s face. A flush clawed across his face.

“And then there’s…?”

Something about Xixa’s soft tone drew the word from his lips. “You. You’re Asra’s… something and you could be screwing with me and you didn’t even text me… Ugh!” Julian sharply leaned back in his chair, covering his eye with his hand. The chair creaked under his weight and sudden position shift. “I’m sounding like a teenager. Maybe, I shouldn’t have even come here.”

There was a beat of silence between them. Xixa’s eyes wide, not quite caught off-guard by Julian’s words – since she had shared some of the thoughts – but still surprised. Realizing the situation, soft laughter started to fall from her lips. This was like an awful romantic comedy; both being too awkward or uncertain to text back? Worries about Asra’s connection – past and present – to each other?

Julian bristled as soon as she started snickering, one word echoing in his thoughts: Leave. Suddenly, he pushed away from the table and started for the exit. The witch scurried from the table, blocking his exit and holding up her hands. Julian stopped just as her hands pressed against his chest, sending gentle tingles down his abdomen.

“Those weren’t aimed at you,” she gasped, trying to swallow down more laughter. To her, hearing Julian actually talk to her about things made her somehow giddy. Living with Asra, she had forgotten how nice it was to have someone she cared about confide in her. Or suddenly bombard her with personal feelings. Plus, knowing he wanted to text, but was waiting for her, tickled at something in her. “Well, I mean, they kind of were, but also at myself.”

Julian stared down at her, face flushed and uncomprehending. He looked unsure and almost wary. Xixa hadn’t forgotten his worries over her connection to Asra. How many obnoxious movies and stories involved an ex getting revenge on another ex through a third party?

“I wanted to text you, but with all the past stuff between you and Asra, I thought I should give you the opportunity to text first.” Xixa started explaining, her hands drifting from his chest when she was sure he wasn’t going to dart off. “Plus, there had been drinking that night and…” Xixa’s words trailed off, face flushing as she remembered Julian writhing against the brick wall, “otherthings that happened and I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me, again.”

As her rambling died down, Xixa’s gaze flickered toward the floor. She suddenly felt very juvenile and vulnerable. Julian stared at her, surprised at her own personal confession. Asra had been… difficult for him. And the following dalliances had been brief distractions, one after the other; sometimes repeated.

Her imagination wouldn’t abandon the image of Julian writhing in the alleyway, though. It kept creeping up in Xixa’s mind. A tingling blush bit at her cheeks. She bit the inside of her cheek, unable to bring her eyes to him. The witch wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do, completely sober, with that image flaring through her brain.

Apparently, Julian had his own ideas. His palms brushed the sides of her face, fingers burying into her hair, and tilting Xixa’s face up toward him. The kiss came on fast, but gentle. Soft touch of lips on lips, eyes fluttering shut, heat rising. A trace of neediness slipped into the kiss, drawing the two closer together.

[greybat]

Fire & Leeches - Ch. 7

Ch. 7: We Need To Talk  Alt Title: I swear I wrote this before the last update...

Ao3 Link

General Summary: Modern!AU (with magic.) Xixa is… well, not really enjoying but not hating a night out with Asra at one of Vesuvia’s famed clubs. However, her curiosity and interest become piqued when a particular band takes the stage.

Chapter Summary: Julian drops another surprise on Xixa during the show. When he approaches her afterward, she tells him they "need to talk" and drags him out to an alley.

The witch blinked, startled at the sudden interruption to her introspection. Her gaze flickered to the source just as Nadia placed a hand on her shoulder. The purple-haired woman always gave Xixa comforting and warm touches. Xixa smiled up at the imposing figure as she helped herself to a seat, settling her pink cocktail drink onto the table.

Xixa’s brain finally pieced the voice to her face. “Nadia! Good to see you.”

“So, what are you doing at this…” Nadia paused, looking around the pub. True to its name, the Rowdy Raven was full of loud raucousness and some rude gestures. The woman simply settled on, “Establishment?”

“A friend’s band is playing.”

“Really now?” Nadia raised her eyebrows, but there was a slight glint in her red eyes. “I thought only the Fire & Leeches were playing tonight.”

A mildly forbidding miasma descended on Xixa’s intuition. Was that a mistake to talk about? Regardless, the witch knew she was in too deep. “That’s the band.”

“You do realize that Asra’s ex is part of that band?” Nadia’s eyes widened, but – despite her apparent shock – the woman took a sip of her drink.

The miasma darkened a little further. The witch’s heart pounded and her palms itched with nerves. Xixa’s mind raced for an answer to the situation. As she fell silent, Nadia stared at her with prying red eyes. She agonized over running into Nadia, over letting slip why she was there. Xixa could have very well said she was taking in the nightlife, as unlikely as that was.

“What are you doing at the Rowdy Raven, Nadia?” Xixa suddenly asked, raising her eyebrows at the elegant woman. Dressed in a dark purple cocktail dress, Nadia reminded Xixa of a rather casual imperial empress and not a barfly. “It doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“Nor yours,” Nadia replied, a contemplative look crossing her features. Turning her eyes to the stage, where Fire & Leeches were set up and, apparently, discussing a last minute detail. Her lips twitched into a slight frown, “I, too, have an acquaintance in the band. He plays bass.”

“Valerius?” Xixa squawked. She couldn’t imagine Valerius and Nadia knowing each other. It seemed to surreal. Then again, Asra and Julian had been an item, so their friendships were bound to have some overlap.

The woman didn’t answer Xixa. Instead, she sipped her cocktail while staring intently at the stage. The lights were dimming and Julian seemed to be doing his introductory spiel. It seemed the conversation had ended. Turning her attention to the stage, Xixa wondered if Julian would recognize Nadia.

Xixa recognized most of the songs. Drag That Blade, a slow and oddly erotic melody with somewhat bittersweet lyrics. Bottom’s Up, a light-hearted and somewhat jokey tune. A Raven’s Warning, fast-paced and desperate and always made Xixa’s heart race with excitement. She couldn’t fully enjoy the music, though. Her eyes kept drifting back to Nadia, her expression a neutral mask.

After about nine songs, the show seemed to be winding toward its end. Xixa thanked the stars, eager to leave Nadia’s presence. As much as she enjoyed the woman’s company, this setting and situation was grinding on Xixa’s worries. She just wanted to enjoy the night with the band, particularly Julian.

“This is our last song of the night. I know, I know, you’re going to miss us.” Julian grinned as the crowd jeered and whooped. His eye drifted across the audience, lingering on Xixa. His lips twisted into a smirk, despite the dusting of pink across his cheeks. Then again, it was probably hot under those lights. “This song was inspired by a particular person I’ve met recently.”

Oh no, was he meaning her? Xixa could feel her face heating with embarrassment. From Xixa’s peripheral, she noted Nadia’s head tilt toward her, eyebrows raised. Oh gosh, she was giving Xixa her subtly judging look. The witch’s face tingled from heat and she fought the urge to sink in her chair.

Without prompting – or perhaps that’s what the discussion before the set was about – a spotlight shifted toward Xixa’s table. It landed on Nadia. Xixa held her breath, watching Nadia warily. The purple-haired woman was clutching onto her drink so tightly, Xixa thought she heard the crack of glass.

Julian’s eye widened – Portia, meanwhile, was stifling giggles – and waved a hand. “Oh, god, no, not her. She wants me dead. The other one.”

The spotlight shuddered and swung to Xixa. For a second, she forgot how to breathe. The light was blinding compared to the darkened atmosphere before. Her body heat started to rise, making her cheeks and ears tingle with a livid blush.

Xixa faintly heard Julian clear his throat, before the lilt of music began. The words blurred together, melted, became a lump in her stomach. Vaguely, she caught lyrics about dancing and pain. The witch was aware of Nadia closely watching her.

What was she supposed to do? Her mind was racing with clashing thoughts and confusing feelings.

It wasn’t until a rousing round of applause, and jeers, sounded when Xixa surfaced from her inner turmoil. The band gave parting remarks, bowed, whatever it was bands did. Xixa still hadn’t fully recovered from her shock. Thankfully, during the song the spotlight had lifted from her.

“Do you want to slip out?” Nadia’s murmur dragged Xixa the rest of the way to awareness.

The witch turned her eyes to the woman. Nadia’s lips were turned downward, but concern was clear in her red eyes. Xixa chewed the inside of her cheek, glancing toward the exit. The idea was tempting, but something kept her glued to her chair.

Nadia leaned closer, her hand on Xixa’s shoulder. “We won’t have much time, Xixa.”

“I-I’m fine,” Xixa stuttered, heat licked painfully up her throat.

“Are you sure?” Worry creased at Nadia’s brow as she comfortingly squeezed Xixa’s shoulder.

Unable to find any more words, Xixa simply nodded. Nadia didn’t have a chance to further press the issue as a newcomer approached the table. Clear distaste sounded in Nadia’s voice as she greeted him. “Devorak.”

“Nadia.” Julian nodded, before turning his attention to Xixa. Leaning down, pressing a hand to her free shoulder, he whispered, “What did you think of the song?”

Something snapped in Xixa. She couldn’t do this. Abruptly, Xixa stood, grabbing Julian by the front of his shirt. The witch bodily dragged the man from the pub, without answering his yelped inquiries.

Nadia watched with quiet pensiveness as the witch and the redhead left the pub. Once the two were out of the door, the woman remained seated, staring at the exit. Something of great import weighed down on her thoughts. Finally, she rummaged around in her purse until she found her phone.

x x x

Outside the Rowdy Raven, the cool of the night washed over Xixa. She didn’t stop at the threshold, though. She nearly charged around the corner of the building, seeking quiet refuge.

“Xixa! What’s going on?” Julian squawked. His hands gently wrapped around her shirt-grasping fist. Concern bubbled up in his thoughts. Xixa had been sitting with Nadia. Who knows what they discussed?

Finally, Xixa found a quiet place near the back of the bar. She released his shirt and took a few steps away. Turning toward him, her face still burning with mortification, she crossed her arms. “We need to talk.”

Julian’s heart sank. Oh god, what had been said? Or had he done something wrong? He forced an easy-going smile to his lips, leaning back against a wall. Despite the nonchalant expression, his insides coiled with chaotic worry. “What’s on your mind?”

The witch closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She sorted through the swirl of words in her brain, trying to carefully pick her way around her feelings. “That was… That was too much.”

“What?” Julian blanched, a chill shooting through his chest.

“Putting the spotlight on me? A song?” Confusion tensed Xixa’s muscles as her fingers tightened against her arms. Her eyes drew away from him, staring toward the darkness at the other end of the alleyway. “And what was said in the dressing room?”

Julian’s mind ricocheted with Xixa’s words. She inspired the song, giving her recognition seemed appropriate. And the dressing room? His mind rewound until he could replay the brief time spent in the back with her. Portia had arrived, he was annoyed, Xixa was there. Valerius had been disgusted, Portia had teased about jealousy, and… he said ‘Of our love, of course. Isn’t that right, my dear?’

Oh, he fucked up, hadn’t he?

His stomach clenched and a cold shudder ran through his heart. One of Asra’s favorite complaints rang in his head: ‘clingy.’ Julian ran a hand through his hair, a desperate edge outlining his tone. Pushing himself off the wall – distancing himself away from the accusations ringing in his brain – Julian winced, “I had been joking in the dressing room!”

“But the song?” Xixa turned beseeching eyes toward him. Something in her trembled at the thought of Julian giving himself over to her. Entirely. It tasted like fear.

“It was true, you had inspired it.” Julian mentally floundered, running a hand through his hair. He had written the song in a flash of inspiration one slow night at work. The band had spent the last week toying with it, changing words and rhythms. With Xixa’s attendance, it seemed like a good time to debut it. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Julian shifted his weight and averted his gaze to the wall, remembering how nervous he had been to show the band those damned lyrics. “What was wrong with the spotlight?”

“You put me on the spot!” Xixa’s voice came out with a slightly hysterical laugh. Down the alley, a cat yowled in response, knocking over garbage cans. The clattering shot Xixa’s nerves with every tinny bang and clang. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. When she trusted herself to speak more levelly, she added, “I wasn’t prepared for it. I mean, couldn’t you have asked first?”

Well, that was reasonable. Julian’s bristled attitude smoothed a little. His shoulders sagged a bit as he looked away from the woman. Like a scolded child, he mumbled, “It was a last minute idea. I’m sorry.”

A bubble of quiet blossomed around them. Julian waded through his own guilt, unable to meet Xixa’s eye. The witch, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes from him now. Defeated and deflated, the man lost the glow he’d had from his show. She felt awful.

“It’s a lot to take all at once,” Xixa sighed, rubbing at her arms. Her gaze fell to her feet, worrying the inside of her cheek. “Asra is very hands off and, I guess, that’s what I’m used to.”

A sudden uncertainty sliced through Julian’s thoughts. Turning his gaze toward her, slowly, he narrowed his eye. There was a wary electricity buzzing in the air. Xixa noticed the changed and looked up in time to be faced with an almost accusatory question, “Are you two lovers?”

[greybat]

Fire & Leeches - Ch 8

Chapter 8: Bound To Come Up

Summary: Modern!AU (with magic.) Xixa is… well, not really enjoying but not hating a night out with Asra at one of Vesuvia’s famed clubs. However, her curiosity and interest become piqued when a particular band takes the stage.

Chapter Summary: Julian and Xixa have their conversation, touching on topics that were bound to come up.

Ao3 Link

A sudden uncertainty sliced through Julian’s thoughts. Turning his gaze toward her, slowly, he narrowed his eye. There was a wary electricity buzzing in the air. Xixa noticed the change and looked up in time to be faced with an almost accusatory question, “Are you two lovers?”

“No! But…” A flush scrabbled across Xixa’s face, memories of her own fawning over the magician teasing at her thoughts. Under Julian’s piercing gaze, she struggled to find the right words. “You spend enough time with someone and feelings can get complicated.”

“So, you love him.” Julian averted his gaze again. He wasn’t sure if he could keep Xixa from seeing the look of betrayal and bitterness on his face. Of course, she’d have feelings for Asra. Julian couldn’t blame her; the magician had a certain allure that still made Julian's own heart flutter. That’s probably why she approached him to begin with. That painful realization brought him no pleasure.

“I didn’t say that,” she bit out, angry with the words being put into her mouth. She had never explicitly stated her feelings about her roommate and didn't appreciate it when others did it for her. Though, she had a feeling that plenty of the other shop owner’s on her block suspected her feelings. “I am fond of Asra, but I’m not sure if it’s love. He’s been there for me and he’s taught me a lot, but he’s also constantly gone.”

Emotions warred inside Julian as he watched Xixa. She had just admitted to having feelings for his ex and, still, a fuzzy warmth coiled around his heart when he watched her. At the same time, he recognized that pinched look of struggle on her face. She truly didn’t know if she loved Asra. Maybe she didn’t even know what love was. Or maybe he was projecting onto a woman who didn’t need his issues.

“Julian,” Xixa shortened the distance between them, her hands brushing against his arms. “I’m fond of you, too. Like, ridiculously fond of you. You’re just… just going too fast for me.”

For a moment, a flare of delight shot down Julian’s back. She was ridiculously fond of him. That sounded promising. Then those four words chilled his warm joy: You’re going too fast. That had been a complaint from Asra, as well. The muscles in Julian’s arms tensed at the memory. His mind hitched on something Xixa had said, though. “He’s your only friend?”

The witch shirked back a little, discontent settling in her stomach. Her only friend. It made her sound so pathetic. “I don’t get out much.”

Julian narrowed his eye. Something was wrong here. “Surely you know other people? What about your family?”

“I… It’s complicated.” Xixa ran a hand through her hair, looking away from Julian’s penetrating gaze. Whenever she talked about this, a headache plunged through her head. Asra never prodded and the other shop owners on her street knew better, probably vetted by the magician. “A large chunk of my memories are gone.”

“What?”

Xixa swallowed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to go through this with Julian. Let alone in an alley. But, if Julian wanted anything to do with her, he had a right to know. Didn't he? There were too many sticky questions, strange situations, where this would come up. It was just better to get it off her chest. The witch opened her eyes, biting her bottom lip under Julian's steely gaze, as she answered, “I just remember waking up a few years ago, in the alleyway behind the shoppe.”

Shock slapped across Julian's face, but Xixa ignored it. She could still see the alleyway – dingy, dirty, heaps of trash – and Asra’s concerned face hovering over her. His purple eyes brimmed with tears and his white hair a glowing beacon in the dark alley.

“Asra was huddled over me, asking if I was all right. I didn’t know who he was, at first. He explained he was my roommate, we ran the shoppe together. I had passed out or something. Hit my head.” Xixa rubbed at her temple again, trying to ignore the sickly feeling of incompetence as tears pricked at her eyes. “When we went to the doctors, they said I had amnesia. I was at the hospital for a week of observation.”

Saying it out loud, Xixa knew it was too strange for anyone to readily accept. Maybe that’s why she hesitated to go out, to make friends. Having to explain that part of her life, it would have been met with skepticism and inquiries all the time. She didn’t know what had happened to her, who had been the source of her state in the alleyway. The doctors had checked her over for signs of violation, but they assured her she was fine.

She let go of a breath she was holding. Xixa knew she wasn’t fine. Especially under his intense stare. She wanted to melt into the pavement, forget all this ever happened.

Julian’s eyebrows furrowed, face set in a serious expression of deep thought. This felt like a sucker punch. His gut twinged, painfully. When he spoke, his voice was soft, as if he were afraid speaking too loud would fracture Xixa. “You have no memories of your prior life?

“There’s snippets. Growing up, playing in a field, some animals, sitting at a desk, people looking after me…” She made a motion with her hand, before lifting her palm to her temple. A little throb kicked at her head, a warning to a greater headache brewing if she continued, “But, every time I concentrate on the memories, my head hurts. So, I don’t think about it.”

Quiet sunk between them. From the Rowdy Raven, as if to make up for Julian and Xixa’s silence, people stumbled and sang bawdy songs or told obnoxious jokes at the top of their lungs. Cars raced by along the front street. Somewhere, a garbage can clanged, followed by the squeak of rats, down a back alleyway. Yet, between them, a bubble of silence had ballooned, impermeable. Xixa chewed on her lip, uncertain of what to do. Was he angry she kept this from him? Was he stunned? Disgusted? Her heart raced, hoping he’d say something and end this curious torture.

Julian didn’t say a word, though. He kept turning over her confession in his head. There had to be proof, another answer, something to make sense of this sudden upheaval. No memory beyond a few years ago, Asra found her in the alley behind the shop, observation at the hospital. The hospital. Abruptly, Julian turned, taking two steps down the alley.

Xixa’s confused shout caused him to stop. “Where are you going, Julian?!”

“I need more information.” He paused, swallowing hard. Synapses were racing, buzzing with ideas and thoughts and plans. “I’m going to the hospital. I’ll pull up your records and-”

“Can you do that?”

Julian paused, lips pressed together tightly. With his back to Xixa, he had no idea what sort of expression she wore. Astounded? Appalled? Outraged? “I can manage it. That’s what matters.”

“How do you have access to patient records?” Xixa moved toward him, stopping behind him. Her eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “I thought you only worked in the morgue.”

Julian closed his eye and took a deep breath. This was bound to come up, at some point. Just as her memory loss would have come up, at some point. This conversation was inevitable since he wrote a song for – inspired – by her. Especially since he wanted… more. “I’m a doctor.”

“A doctor in a band,” she replied, with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. Xixa didn't remember Asra mentioning this tidbit. Then again, weren't doctors highly sought after from single people?

His shoulders lowered from their tensed state. Morosely, he added, “Well, I was a doctor.”

“Which means you aren’t any longer,” she pressed, her mind spinning with the implications. What happened? What changed? What had he done?

“My credentials haven’t changed!” He spun on his heel, facing Xixa again. His fists were clenched with frustration. All the work he had put toward his doctorate – all that knowledge and experience – was still there. Just because they had taken his license didn’t mean he had lost the ability to help. “I can just… can just get my old doctor’s coat and my old ID. The people in the records office won’t know.”

Xixa’s lips pressed together, trying to keep from grinning. The level of absurdity in this man knew no bounds. “That sounds illegal.”

“It is. Patient privacy and what not.” Julian waved his hand almost dismissively, but averted his gaze, realizing how foolhardy he was being. Stampeding into the hospital for private records? Impinging the privacy of all for information about one? Still, there was an urge in him, a drive, to go forward with the plan.

“So, let me get this straight: you want to charge in there, grab my private information, and pry into my medical life?” Xixa crossed her arms, shifting her stance slightly. She cocked an eyebrow at him, still fighting against a smile. She really shouldn’t encourage this plan, after all. “You’re willing to go to jail for an answer.”

Julian opened his mouth to retort, then promptly shut it. He realized he didn’t have a good enough reply for Xixa. “I guess.”

“Julian.” Despite her stern tone, the corners of Xixa’s lips continued to twitched.

“I won’t do it if you tell me not to."

Xixa stared up at him. Maybe it was the cool air finally sinking in, but relaxation eased into her bones. Now that her mind wasn’t abuzz with chaos, Xixa had a chance to analyze the situation. This man was quick to act on his feelings. Surprised by your ex’s roommate sitting on your lap? Shove them off and leave the room. Enamored and enjoying time with someone? Write and perform a song inspired by them. Find out someone you care about has severe memory loss? Go to the fucking hospital, break in, and take a peek at their medical records.

“You’re so… outlandish and dramatic, Julian.” Xixa laughed, but a part of her wanted to know, too. Asra had been her self-proclaimed guardian, at the time. She wasn't even sure how he pulled that one off, without documentation. He handled the details while Xixa sat in the hospital, fretting over what happened to her. To say she had never been curious about her records would have been a lie. However, another part of her held her back; did she really want to know what printed down?

Julian hung his head, suddenly feeling like a child. A foolish child. This intent drive had gotten him in trouble more than once, and, on one occasion, he got in trouble with the law. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand wanting to find that information.” Xixa admitted, moving closer until she could feel Julian’s body heat. “Though, I’d rather you not get in trouble by violating privacy acts.”

“Right.”

Xixa fell silent. She hadn’t been to a doctor in a long time. The week in the hospital soured her on the thought and Asra never seemed to push the aversion. Though, there was much to be said for ironic humor. ‘So, you’re not going to see a doctor on you own? Here, get romantically entangled with one who happens to be Asra’s ex. Hahaha.’ Oh, universe, you jerk.

“Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t do this.” Julian said abruptly, staring at his feet. He writhed in discomfort as Xixa’s silence progressed. She had to be angry with him, right? They weren't even together and he was 'breaking up' with her. That’s why she was so silent.

The witch’s wide eye shock latched to his face. “What?”

“This.” He willed himself to look at her, his expression twinged with bitterness. Julian motioned back and forth between them. They’d never officially started dating, so Julian didn’t even have a word to associate to their relationship. All he could think of, now, was rushing to the hospital to get the records or seeing Xixa’s hurt expression from earlier. One way or the other, he was going to hurt her. His heart sunk deep in his chest, into a quagmire of self-degradation. “I rush into things, make huge mistakes, give my all even when it’s not wanted. I push and people get hurt. I… I don’t think you want any of that, Xixa.”

More silence. It pierced him and brought a clamp of woe around his throat. He blinked back tears, biting his bottom lip.

“I’m perfectly fine with most of it.” Xixa said softly. “Just proclaiming love after so short an acquaintance is… excessive for me.”

Julian drooped, even more sullen than before. “See? You consider us acquaintances.”

“Oh my spirits, Julian,” Xixa huffed, reaching up and grabbing him by the sides of his face. She could see where Asra would have gotten tired of this. The magician didn’t have patience for emotional drama. Julian stared down at her with a sullen expression. Around him, the air seemed to drop a couple degrees from depression. “Seriously?”

She didn’t give Julian a chance to respond. She pressed forward, irritation evident in her voice. “You and the others are, literally, the only other people – beside Asra – I’ve felt comfortable being around, been able to drop my guard around. Do you think – do you seriously think – I’d prefer loneliness to this?”

He averted his gaze, ashamed to look Xixa in the eye. “You have Asra.”

“And he’s constantly gone. Won’t even text me back, even in emergencies!” She sighed, exasperated and frustrated. Both with Julian’s current state and reliving Asra’s hands off approach to friendship. “I can text you and get a reply back within an hour, no matter what you’re doing. Work, practicing, sleeping.” She grinned, her heart warming as she thought of the gibberish replies she had gotten the times she texted him while he slept.

“But-”

“Okay, sure, you’re a bit much. Just listen to what I’m saying, though: I don’t want to end this,” Xixa mimicked his motion earlier, her hand signaling to his chest and hers. “I don’t want you to stop being you, but talk to me before you put me on the spot, publicly. Please?”

Another bubble of silence. Julian shifted, a flush creeping over his face as Xixa stared at him. He ached to give in to her. But something stopped him from simply agreeing.

He looked down at his feet, reliving another time his quick lovestricken self had also gotten him in trouble. That crush hadn’t ended well. He mumbled, while still looking at his feet, “To be fair, the song wasn’t necessarily about love.”

“Yeeeaaah,” Xixa bit her bottom lip, realizing she couldn’t recall most of the lyrics. Her mind swirled with confusion and fright, at the time, the witch hadn’t paid attention. Just knowing Julian’s motivation, though, had been enough. Now, the witch wondered if she had overreacted… just a little. “I didn’t really listen to it, since I was mentally freaking out after the ‘you’re jealous of our love’ joke.”

His wide-eyed gaze snapped to her face. Her face burned with embarrassment. He opened his mouth once, snapped it closed. Finally, his eyebrows furrowed, a shit-eating grin twisting at his lips. “So, you dragged me out into an alleyway to berate me about a song that you didn’t even listen to?”

Julian bit his tongue to keep from adding ‘and people call me dramatic.’

“I am not berating you,” Xixa gasped. She crossed her arms, shoulders crammed up to her ears. “I heard some lyrics about dancing and pain. And we both know how you feel about pain.”

A flush tickled over his cheeks, but Julian still squawked, “Still, you didn’t even listen to it!”

Cold awfulness sifted through Xixa’s thoughts. There was a string of rebelliousness in her synapses. Her reaction may have been a little… much, herself. However, her feelings on the matter were justified! Her lips twisted into an apologetic smile, but there was a challenging glint in her eye. “Then sing it to me now, Julian.”

[greybat]

Memories - Ch. 5

Ao3 Link

Xixa and Asra have a confrontation about her returned memories.

(There’s more to come - I swear! - for those worried about Asra getting bashed and left with a bad ending.)

Warm morning light spilled into Xixa’s bed. She moaned as the brightness taunted her eyelids and rolled over. Expecting to feel a warm body next to her, if not draped over her. The witch was somewhat disappointed when her hand met with empty pillows. Cracking an eye open, she cast a look around the room.

She was in her bed at the magic shop. Groggily, the recollections from yesterday piled into her head. Sitting up, she rubbed a palm against her eyes, and wondered where Julian was. He must have brought her home. Did he go to Mazelinka’s? Her heart sank a little, realizing he was honoring her request. Xixa worried her bottom lip with her teeth, partially wishing she hadn’t asked for space and partially knowing it was for the best.

At least, until things were sorted out.

Making her way to the front of the store, Xixa was surprised to find Asra there, apparently taking inventory. He abhorred the job. Anything with numbers or deadlines tended to put him off. Xixa wasn’t actually sure how he ran a business. Though, thinking about the years passed, perhaps she actually did his job for him.

“You’re up.” Asra’s eyes lit onto her as she stepped into the room. Xixa noticed Faust coiled around Asra’s arm, like a fancy bangle.

“Yes, did Julian leave?”

The magician immediately dragged his gaze away from her. He nodded tersely, returning to the sheets he was poring over, “Said something about staying with a friend.”

“Ah,” Xixa muttered without much cause. Her eyes dragged around the shop, now not so surprised that nothing here had Asra’s magic essence when she needed it. She had spent most of the last few years here. Everything here was hers. The aura of magic that surrounded this shop was hers.

Feeling comforted by that thought, she turned her gaze back to Asra. He seemed to be entirely focused on the crystal vials. Vaguely, she wondered just how far he truly got into inventory. There was no point in sugarcoating this. He either answered or didn’t. A small, dusty part of her heart wasn’t sure which would hurt more. “You knew the whole time.”

“Knew what?” His voice dipped up an octave, his conversational tone strained.

Xixa simply stared at him. “About the surgery.”

His hand stuttered on a vial of rose quartz shards, before drawing away. Hanging his head, Asra threw Xixa a sidelong glance. He had feared this moment, since Julian brought her home. With a swallow, he managed a “...yes.”

Xixa drew a deep breath, fighting off rage. She expected explanations, excuses, anything. But, yet again, Asra kept it obfuscated. Clenching her hands into fists, she could only manage one word, “Why?”

“Last night is why,” he replied, eyes hooded and voice cold. He didn’t even turn to look at her. His hands continued to fidget with merchandise on the shelf, moving from the vials to some packages of dried herbs. Possibly feeling Xixa’s hot glare on his back, Asra managed to find a vocabulary to continue. “I knew the people we touched were changed and I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to live with the scar of that fear. That’s why I took the memories right after surgery. So, you wouldn’t have to relive that pain, that fright, ever again.”

Xixa’s brain swam with a school of emotions. Anger, rage, confusion, hurt, betrayal, indignation, violation. They all swarmed her thoughts, eating away at any coherent string like piranhas. To make matters worse, Asra spoke in such a calm, soft way. She wanted to scream, but settled for a firm snarl, “But you took those memories against my consent!”

“Yes.” Asra’s voice dipped, becoming deeper and a little rough. His fingers froze on a small metal incense burner, finger tapping the lid impatiently. “I didn’t know it’d nearly destroy you.”

“You didn’t need to know that.” Xixa slammed a hand down on the counter, finally earning a startled look from Asra. She didn’t care whether she scared the magician or not. Tears burned at the back of her eyes and her head pounded with a headache. “You took memories without regard to my own wishes!”

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to make the tears go away. A blunt, squeezing pain sunk around Asra’s chest. Something scratched at the back of his thoughts, something he knew he should do. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. This wasn’t how he dreamed everything would turn out. In his fantasies, there was no Julian, no tears, and – shamed as he was to realize it – no painful memories. That had been foolish, wishful thinking. Asra should have known better.

“Xixa, I did what I thought was best,” Asra said, gently. Like a parent speaking softly to an upset child. He turned his gaze back to the shelf, unable to watch Xixa sniffle and tear up any longer. “I’ve always done what I thought was best… That’s all anyone can ask of me.”

He wasn’t even taking accountability, realized Xixa as a pain settled in her chest. A sudden epiphany flashed through her brain, bringing a hot wash of anger. Her eyebrows lowered and a frown etched over her lips as she crossed her arms. Quietly, with an almost deathly tone, she murmured, “Julian was doing what he had to, as well, to cure the Red Plague. Yet, he still apologized to me.”

The magician closed his eyes – seemingly in pain – and took a deep breath. He let it out in one, low sound. “Xixa…”

“Even if you had the best intentions, at the time, you can apologize now.”

She waited for his response. Silence wrapped around them while, outside, the trundle of a cart passed by the shop. The rest of Vesuvia was waking. On the eave, outside, a raven croaked. Xixa tightened her grip around herself.

When too long had passed, when it became apparent the white-haired man wasn’t going to add anything to the conversation, Xixa had a choice to make. Drop it, as she always had, or… “Asra, get out of my shop.”

He whipped his purple gaze, wide-eyed and almost crystalline, toward her face. “But this is my store…”

“Who kept it running when you went off on your travels?” Xixa took her first step toward the man, since this whole confrontation started. “Who paid rent and taxes by doing readings all through the day and night?” She reached out to Asra’s hands, gently removing the inventory papers from his lax hold. “Who kept it clean and well-stocked?”

Xixa let the questions sink into Asra’s brain for a moment as she turned away, looking over his work. As expected, he hadn’t actually checked anything off. Which was fine. He always messed up inventory in the past. With her back still turned to the magician, Xixa added with a sharp tone, “I’m willing to bet Nadia will consider me the rightful owner.”

Asra stiffened and became colder with Xixa’s words. So, this was it. There was no point in protesting. He knew Nadia would side with her. Especially if the Countess knew about what they’d done to the lottery recipients – herself included. He hung his head, hand drifting from the vials of crystal. “As you wish, Xixa.”