#hashtag gaiuslives

[starcunning]

Day Sixteen, Heroes and Villains

An AU in which your OTP has super powers. Are they a hero/sidekick duo? Are they archenemies? Are they both villains? From the 30-Day OTP Challenge.

So ... they’re basically already superpowered vigilantes in the main universe (or at least Shasi is superpowered). There’s another AU prompt that’s redundant (what if they had magic? i hate to tell you this, but magic is already in the setting), so you’re getting two glimpses into a timeline where the Warrior of Light becomes someone else.

Shasi sas Intemperatus. (She might be a villain, too.)

“Do you believe in Eorzea?”

It was the sort of question that demanded a ready answer, asked of X’shasi by the sort of man who would brook no less. As the lights of the Praetorium played over her face and his mask, the silence hung between them.

Was there a united Eorzea left to believe in? Would it long survive this operation? Ul’dah was in upheaval—and it was not merely the Sultana who had been lost to treachery in the Fragrant Chamber. The Syndicate had bullied its way into the war preparations and Teledji Adeledji’s hired killer had dispatched with the young monarch and her strong right arm.

And the Scions—what Scions were not lost in the attack on the Waking Sands or yet in the grip of the foe. That she had killed Adeledji and his assassins was cold comfort for the loss of her allies.

Raubahn’s successor, Eline Roaille, had been adamant that despite these setbacks—despite the aetherial readings on the Rhotano; despite a sickness in the Shroud the Hearers refused to intervene and curb—the Alliance must come together and act.

So she had acted, more alone than ever, and when the moment had come that Gaius van Baelsar asked her to speak, X’shasi Kilntreader found she had little to say.

“Yes,” she said, because it was what was expected of her. “If that were true, you would not have taken this long to say so,” the Black Wolf laughed. “I believe in it enough to fight for it,” X’shasi told him, the heel of her hand resting against the pommel of her blade. “Eorzea’s unity is forged of falsehoods, and its city-states built on deceit. To believe in Eorzea is to believe in nothing,” he said, his tone a lofty scolding. “To die for Eorzea is to die for nothing.” “But to kill—” “And to kill for it is to kill for nothing, too, girl,” the legatus said. “Pay attention.” He advanced, unhurried, his gunblade still at his back. “What happens when you kill me?” Gaius van Baelsar asked her. “I descend to the heart of this wretched place and I destroy your weapon. I dispatch Lahabrea,” X’shasi told him, setting her teeth. “And then what?” Gaius asked her. “And then you return the conquering hero, no doubt. Perhaps your homeland awaits your coming, every roadway lined with parades. But when they have tired of feasting at your victory table, what happens?” She looked at him with eyes as blue as ceruleum flames, and said nothing. “Ul’dah returns to its internal warring, no doubt,” Gaius said. “The vipers crawl over one another to the throne and whichever one wins floods the streets with poison. Perhaps the Admiral can strike a treaty with the sahagin before they succeed in summoning their eikon, but she will break her word in time. The Elder Seedseer watches her nation rot because her gods will not give her leave to act, and she is not strong enough to defy them. Are you?” “Am I what?” X’shasi asked, bewildered. “Are you strong enough to defy your masters? Nothing else will save Eorzea now,” he told her.

“Do you think yourself the answer to all of Eorzea’s ills?’ X’shasi demanded to know. “I was the answer to Ala Mhigo’s,” he said, laughing. “Better to peddle order and stability than madness and deceit.” “You would be hard-pressed to find a willing buyer in Eorzea after the destruction the Empire wrought at Carteneau,” X’shasi told him. Her knuckles were white around the grip of her blade. “I sought to spare Eorzea from the depredations of the White Raven,” van Baelsar told her. “She would have razed this place for spite’s sake. This realm deserved a better class of conqueror. But you are right; to bring Eorzea under my heel carries too dear a cost to bear.” “But you have not drawn on me,” X’shasi said, “so you yet carry some hope.” “The very same hope that all Eorzea rallies behind.” “Surely not,” X’shasi protested. “They would follow you. And you would lead them far better than they have managed.”

That had the ring of truth to it, she realized, watching that pallid mask. The lights of the Praetorium no longer swept over him—the lift had rumbled to a stop long before, she realized. The air around them was still, and thick with aether, dripping with it, like blood, like pitch; in the silence she could hear the whispers and the distant screams of the beleaguered dead. She could feel in this place a pulsing haze, and felt the lights grow dim; the aether rippled, and—

“Lahabrea,” she breathed. She felt the oppressive weight of the darkness, the quickening of long-dead magics. “The Ultima Weapon ...” “What of it?” Gaius van Baelsar asked her. When X’shasi answered, she knew not where the words came from; heard and felt and thought, and spoken, though foreign to her tongue. “It is not what the Dark Minion has told you,” she warned; “it is more. The destruction it wreaks makes this star tremble, from seventh hell to highest heaven.” “What?!” Gaius demanded. “I don’t know,” X’shasi muttered. “But we have to stop it.” “A truce, then,” the legatus said. “For now.”

They emerged together onto the platform that housed the Ultima Weapon. Its black carapace was aglow already in deepest crimson and brilliant azure, creating a sickly violet light that barely cut through the shadows gathering in the chamber. Lahabrea saw them coming and only laughed, a cruel sound from a friend’s throat. “Behold the Heart of Sabik,” he said, “the core of your Ultima Weapon.” His sneering tone laid bare his contempt for his erstwhile ally. “Behold a fraction of the one true god’s power!” “Lahabrea,” the Black Wolf growled back. “Your faith has blinded you.” “And have you come to grant me clarity?” “No,” X’shasi said, drawing her blade and beginning to channel her aether along its length. “The only thing I intend to grant you is death.” That made him laugh, raucous and mocking. “Kill me and you kill him,” Lahabrea told her.

His mockery was cut short by the crack of a rifle’s report at Shasi’s shoulder. She glanced aside to see that Gaius van Baelsar had drawn his weapon at last. Lahabrea stumbled forward a step and rose, undeterred, and the legatus charged him to engage with a stroke of his blade. The Ascian caught it with the silver-shod claws of his gauntlets, shadows rising from where he stood in a writhing, flailing mass.

Watching the pair tangle, X’shasi swung back her blade and brought forth her focus to spew a gout of flame, letting the gust of hot air dry her unshed tears. Blackness pooled on the platform, thick as tar, and Shasi had to step lively to keep it from grasping at her ankles. She could still hear the keening anguish at Ultima’s heart or perhaps at her own—or perhaps that was just the scream of cermite on steel as Lahabrea repulsed his attacker.

Skidding to a stop, Gaius lifted his gunblade, emptying the ceruleum reserves in a series of criss-cross strokes as he dashed toward the Ultima’s feet. They ignited in sequence, raking across the platform in a blaze of blue heat, leaving trails of flame behind. Shasi could have cursed him for abandoning her, but she watched him climbing the thing’s frame, calling for Nero tol Scaeva. The Paragon turned and lifted a hand, fell words tumbling from his lips, and Shasi sprinted forward to tackle him.

She heard the crack of bones as she took him to the ground, and when he rolled to his back, those dark eyes fixed upon her. Shasi had not the room to make use of her arts, so she simply hauled back and punched him, pummeling Lahabrea with blows as he cackled and writhed beneath her, struggling beneath her weight. He worked one hand free and raked her face with his claws. Her world went red with blood; it filled her nose and seeped between her lips until it was all she could taste. She spit it back at him in a glob of crimson, trying to get her hands around his neck.

Shasi pressed her thumbs against his throat, digging into those tattoos—Thancred’s tattoos—as though she could throttle him out, blinking blood from her eyes. His gurgling laughter still sounded in her ears, louder and louder as the room seemed to quiet. She looked away, unable to bear the sight any longer, and saw Ultima still and black, its limbs slack and inactive.

Whatever magic the Heart of Sabik held, then, it would not loose. At least there was that small mercy.

“Purge the tank,” Shasi called, rising to her feet, hauling Lahabrea up by the neck. “What?” Gaius asked. “The ceruleum tank! Purge the fuel!” she howled. A moment later, the fuel vented in a ripple of heat nearly invisible but for the blue at its edges. She let go of Lahabrea’s throat and kicked him in the chest instead. He stumbled backward, and X’shasi made herself watch as flesh blackened and hair crisped, flesh sloughing from bone until only darkness clung there.

And then, as it had done with the essence of the primals, Ultima’s heart drunk deep of the lingering essence of Lahabrea. A veil of rime spread over the black steel, evaporating in the last flames of ceruleum. There was a terrible stillness in the chamber then, Shasi’s last ally crumbling to ash.

Well, not her last. “So you do know the value of sacrifice,” Gaius van Baelsar said, emerging from the cockpit to regard her. She looked up at him, blood streaking her face. “Yes,” Shasi said. “I do.”

[starcunning]

canalstreetbaker replied to your post, Day Four, First Date:

“Thancred is dead, as surely as Gaius van Baelsar is dead.” 😀🙃☻

yes thank you i was very proud of this line