#mikleo wants sorey to be safe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

larkawolfgirl · 2 years

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Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Tales of Zestiria Relationship: Mikleo/Sorey Characters: Mikleo, Sorey, Zenrus

Summary: Feeling Sorey's heart beating has always been Mikleo's reassurance that he is still with him.

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“Sorey, watch out!” Mikleo saw the flash of understanding in Sorey’s eyes and his attempt to move out of the way, but he was too slow and the boar-like creature rammed right into his side. Sorey screamed as he was knocked back into one of the stone pillars in the chamber.

Damn it! They should have listened to Gramps. He had always warned them against exploring the Mabinogio Ruins alone. They had always been fine fighting off creatures in the past, but times were changing now that Gramp’s protection was fading. This had to be one of the hellions they had both always assumed was nothing but a scary bedtime story. It wasn’t particularly strong, but all of Sorey’s sword strikes had bounced off it as if an invisible shield was blocking their way. Mikleo, on the other hand, had already gotten a good set of hits in, and now he funneled his anger and fear into a single powerful blast of water that propelled the hellion all the way to the other end of the chamber and into the wall. It let out an ugly shriek as it dissolved into black fog.

With the hellion gone, he rushed to Sorey’s side. His friend was unconscious. For a second he feared the worst, but then he could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His hand went there as if to prove to himself that it was real. “Idiot!” he yelled to deaf ears. Hadn’t he always vowed to himself he would protect him? His lips trembled as he lifted Sorey up into his arms so that he could carry him back to the village.

It was not a surprise that Gramps scolded him for their actions. Mikleo took it silently with a heavy heart because he knew everything Gramps said was true. They had been stupid and careless and Mikleo should have been the voice of reason, if only for Sorey’s sake. He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded at each accusation. Finally, the angry voice fell away and a gentle hand found his shoulder.

“Oh, Mikleo.”

He opened his eyes to see sorrow reflected in Gramps’ own. “You know I want nothing but the best for you both. I consider you both family. I am only angry because I worry.”

Mikleo put his hand over his. “I know, Gramps. I’m sorry.”

“If you must disobey, so be it, but please at least be more careful next time.”

“I will.”

The healers took care of Sorey’s injury, but he was still unconscious when they brought him back home. Before Mikleo could worry, they assured him it was perfectly normal for a human to take extra time to recuperate after an event like this. Gramps stayed with him at Sorey’s bedside until nightfall before smiling and taking his leave.

It was times like these that put Mikelo’s stomach into knots, because it was undeniably obvious that Sorey was different and fragile. Gramps had pointed out their differences from childhood. Out of the entire village, Sorey was the only one who had to eat and would fall asleep without meaning to. Only Sorey ever got sick. Vulnerable, Gramps called him. Death could find him easier than for the rest of them, so he needed to be watched out for and protected. Mikleo had always taken that very seriously and vowed that he would always stand beside his best friend to watch over him and keep him safe. But times like these reminded him that he was not infallible and that he did not know all there was to know about Sorey.

Mikleo studied Sorey’s sleeping face. He could have easily died back there if he had been alone, yet his sleeping expression was perfectly relaxed. His eyes focused on the rise and fall of his chest once more, and he heaved a breath.

It was stupid. Everything was fine, yet all his nerves were still on edge, as if he might lose Sorey at any moment. “What if I had lost you?” What about when I do? he caught himself thinking and bit his tongue.

Carefully, he crawled onto the bed to lay beside him. They had always shared a bed as children and often still did even though Gramps lectured they were too old for such things. Still, he never scolded him for sneaking into Sorey’s house more nights than not. He felt more secure like this. It was nice to feel him close by and to know first-hand that he was safe.

Right now, Mikleo was close enough to feel the tiny exhales of breath hit his skin each time he breathed, but that knot in his stomach was still there. His hand reached out, resting over the top of the sleep shirt the healers had dressed him in. The knot untangled itself at the first thump , settling soft and warm like silk thread. He let himself give a subdued smile as the feeling sank in. Sorey was here. Sorey was alive. He could feel that lifeforce.

He stayed like that longer than he should have. Maybe an hour, maybe longer, he could not say. At some point, Sorey’s eyes fluttered open, amazingly clear given his recuperation and the dimness of the room. Immediately, Mikleo attempted to pull his hand away out of embarrassment, but Sorey grabbed it before he could and pressed it firmly into place.

“Morning,” he muttered with a yawn.

“It’s nighttime.” Mikleo did not meet his eyes.

Sorey just shrugged. “It’s the proper greeting, right?” There was a short silence. “Anyway, Mikleo, what’s this about?”

Mikleo was glad the dark should at least hide the heat he could feel rising to his cheeks. “Nothing.”

Sorey’s fingers thrummed over his. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“I...I just wanted to reassure myself you were okay.”

“Mikleo.” Sorey frowned, voice soft. He moved Mikleo’s hand so that is was beneath his shirt and pressed more securely against where his heart was beating. Mikleo could feel his own heartbeat pick up in response.

“Sorey?”

“I’m not planning to leave you anytime soon.” He sounded so confident, it was both endearing and aggravating.

It was the aggravation that seeped into his words when he said, “You don’t really have a say, you know? Back there, you could have left me alone. If I hadn’t been there--”

“But you were, and I’m still here.”

“Damn it, Sorey! Don’t play this off! You have to stop being so careless. I can’t lose you!”

Sorey cupped Mikleo’s face, a frown the only sign of the anger affecting him. “You won’t.”

“But I will! I will one day!” The silk thread had knotted itself again, even more tightly now, so tightly Mikleo didn’t know what to do with the emotion. It burned at his eyelids like wet pinpricks.

“Shh.” Sorey brushed over his cheek, wiping what must have been a tear away. “You won’t, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can too.”

Mikleo glared at him. They weren’t children anymore. They couldn’t believe in the impossible anymore. “You’re only making this worse.”

“How about this? I promise that I will spend every day that I can with you. Is that better?”

Mikleo gave a wet laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

He cried after that, and Sorey let him, just as he let him keep his hand there over his heart the entire time. Eventually, Mikleo let himself slip into sleep from the emotional toll. Right before he did, he could feel Sorey tucking his head against his chest to replace his hand.

Sorey promised him he’d be with him every day possible, which should have meant he would be more careful by default, yet not only did he coax Mikleo back into the ruins, but he also decided to interact with the foreign human woman they found there. Which Mikleo could honestly understand. If he had grown up surrounded by nothing but humans, he would have interacted with the first Seraph he encountered as well. What Mikleo didn’t understand was why Sorey seemed fine taking everything on by himself. Back when they left the village, he had been ready to abandon him in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye in order to protect that girl, and now, he had stepped up to become the Shepherd in order to protect everyone from calamity.

It was noble, and that’s what upset Mikleo the most. How was he supposed to blame Sorey for doing the right thing? What he could blame him for was not even discussing it with him first, as if it didn’t concern him. So that is what he focused on alongside his worry as Sorey recovered.

This was like before with the hellion, except it wasn’t. This time, he wasn’t hurt, yet he was unconscious for days. No matter how many times Lailah said it was normal, Mikleo could not breathe easy until Sorey finally opened his eyes. The relief that hit him was intense, and he wrapped him in a firm hug.

“Morning,” Sorey muttered with a yawn.

“Morning?” The relief melted into anger, and he smacked his hand against his shoulder.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“For lying.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you promise to spend every day with me?”

“Yeah?” he answered in the form of a question. “Haven’t I?”

“You broke that promise by trying to leave the village without me, and now here you are deciding all on your own to take on this crazy dangerous quest!” If Lailah heard him yelling from the other room, she was smart enough not to interfere. “Aren’t you scared of dying?”

“Of course I am, but somethings are more important than that.”

“Like what?” he yelled.

“Like my promise.”

Now Mikleo was the one confused. “That makes no sense.”

“Mikleo,” Sorey said calmly, “I don’t just want to stay with you, I want everyone to have that chance, if they want it. I want to bridge the gap between the humans and Seraphim.”

He was an idiot. But wasn’t that why Mikleo loved him? “What good’s that ideal if you die in the process?”

Sorey grabbed his hand. “Won’t you pursue this dream with me, Mikleo?”

Mikleo sighed. “Idiot.” Sorey grinned and there was no way Mikleo could stay mad. His fingers laced with his. “You don’t give me much choice.”

“Sorry.”

No, he wasn’t, not really, but that was okay, Mikleo decided.

“I guess I can’t keep my promise,” Sorey announced solemnly looking out at the vast sky above Lastonbell.

You don’t really have a say, you know? Mikleo’s old words came back to him. It wasn’t like Sorey really had a choice right now. Someone becoming Maotelus’ vessel truly might bridge the gap between the humans and seraphim, and purge the malevolence in the process. Doing so while Rose took up the Shepherd's mantle was a brilliant theory on paper. It was tragic in reality. He forced a smile into place and turned his gaze to the starry sky. “I guess so. You do understand the implications, though, don’t you? By bonding with Maotelus, you’ll be abandoned in time. It could take years…It could take centuries. And even if humans appear who can see and talk to seraphim…There’s no guarantee they’ll choose the path of coexistence.” “I believe in them.”

He wished he could argue that this was unfair to both of them, but this was Sorey’s decision, a fact that made it more painful. Mikleo had imagined this moment a thousand times, but never had it been preplanned. Never had it ached quite like this. Like a slow tear instead of a quick stab. ”Alright then.” He turned and held up his wrist for their traditional wrist bump.

After, Sorey gave a tight smile. “Thank you, Mikleo.”

The Seraph was quick to shake his head and look back out at the stars. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re wrong. You’re my support, Mikleo.”

Mikleo snorted. “What about Rose, then? Or Lailah, or Edna? Even Zaveid. They are all here to support you.”

“Mikleo,” Sorey placed a hand on his shoulder. That was the third time he said his name. Neither of them were looking at the stars anymore. “You have always been my support and always will.”

Mikleo wasn’t good with goodbyes. Words were failing him, and it was hard to keep his eyes locked with the sincerity in Sorey’s own.

“I couldn’t have gotten here without you.”

The words warmed his chest. “I appreciate that, but it isn’t true. You would have found another water Seraph and made it just fine.”

Sore shook his head. “I’m sure I would have found someone, but I wouldn’t have been half as strong as I am now. You strengthen me.”

Why did his kind words have to cut through him? He wanted to tell him he was right. They both needed each other and separating like this would end badly. He wanted to hold onto him and never let go. All he did, though, was press their lips together in the chastest of kisses. “You strengthen me too,” he said. He did not say, “I need you,” although they both knew that was what he meant.

Sorey becoming Maotelus’ vessel was not the end. There was still so much to do. As the new Shepard, Rose and the rest of them continued to fight the hellions. With each kill, they became closer to peace and between battles they taught the people how their races could live in harmony. Time passed, and with it the hellion’s numbers dwindled and coexistence between the races grew with each passing day.

At last, the long war was over, and statues were erected to commemorate the six of them. Eventually death found Rose and Alisha, and with their deaths, Lailah, Edna, and Zaveid left to live their own lives. They checked in of course, but now Mikleo was left mostly alone with his grief for the first time. When the grief truly set in, he would sit upon a tall hill and gaze at the blue light radiating from the horizon. That reminder that Sorey was still alive was usually enough to keep him going. But sometimes, when he felt the most alone, he would wish that his waiting would end even if it meant his death. He would look at that light to remind himself that Sorey would not be waiting for him there, but he still needed that assurance of old that Sorey really was alive to keep pressing on through the long years.

When this depressed mood set in, he would trek to the crevice and venture down into the earth. It was never easy, but it was always worth the scrapes to see and touch Sorey himself. The light made it hard to see, but he could still make out his prone body lain out on the rock slab. Just as so long ago, his unconscious face was relaxed, and Mikleo fondly shook his head. Of course, he would be resting peacefully. His hand touched the Shepherd's chest and found a heartbeat. It was slow and quiet, barely noticeable even when he pressed his ear there, but it was enough to reassure him that Sorey was fighting to return to him.

Mikleo used his time to do all the things they talked about. Once he was finished helping reestablish Elysia, he visited all the libraries in the towns they had been to. After that, he mapped out all of the world's known ruins and began to explore them one by one. Each time he did, he felt calmer beneath his excitement. He felt closer to Sorey when he was inside the ruins, as if one of these times he would just run into him. It was a silly notion that he did not let himself dwell on so as not to disappoint himself. Yet, he could never ignore the way exploring made him forget, if only for brief moments, that Sorey was gone. Exploring made him feel younger and carefree, and he soaked up all the knowledge he could so that he could share it with Sorey when he returned.

One particular ruin held a sense of promise in the air. He breathed in, a smile forming on his face as he walked. Writings and drawings covered the walls with stories of the people who once lived nearby. A large, circular room had a vividly colorful painting on the floor. Mikleo approached and crouched down to run his fingers over the painting. He shifted to reach the other side, and the floor began to shake and crumble. Just as the ground caved beneath his feet and a scream ripped from his throat, a hand took hold of his and pulled him out from the hole that had formed.

“Thank,” he started to say before gaping and gasping out, “Sorey?” It couldn't be...The appearance was too striking to be coincidence. This Seraph dressed in red garments looked older than Sorey with longer hair, but his face was unmistakable. Those kind green eyes might as well be painted on the back of Mikleo's eyelids, he knew them so well. And yet, his eyes weren't dancing the way they always did when he saw Mikleo.

The fire Seraph set him down on the ground. “Do I know you?”

Mikleo’s chest tightened. Could he just be seeing what he wanted to see? “You look like my childhood friend.”

The Seraph’s eyes lit with the same curiosity Sorey’s always had when they spoke of history. “I do? Please tell me about him.”

“Oh.” Mikleo wrung his hands together. His throat felt tight. “Gramps raised us together like brothers. He was a human, but that never mattered to either of us. We were best friends and we would read and explore together. Sorey always said he wanted to bridge the gap between us and the humans so that everyone else could be friends like we were.”

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“He is. We should probably get out of here before anything else caves in.”

“That’s a good idea.”

They traveled together to the ruin’s entrance, which was set atop a mountain overlooking a wide expanse of fields. The sun was resting low in the sky, painting the view in a rich orange glow.

“It’s beautiful,” the Seraph said.

“Yeah, it is.” Mikleo fidgeted. “So, what is your name?”

“I don’t know.” The Seraph wasn’t looking at him.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t really know much of anything. That’s not exactly true. I know basic stuff like how the sun rises and sets and why it rains, but I don’t know anything about myself. It’s like someone went in and sucked all my memories away.”

There it was. Maotelus must have gifted Sorey the form of a Seraph like he had always wished for, but it had come with this price.

“I know this might sound crazy,” Mikleo said, “but I think you are my friend.”

“But I thought you said he was a human.”

“Yes, well, you see, he was acting as Maotelus’ vessel, so my guess is that as a reward for your service, Maotelus turned you into a Seraph. However, the gift of a new life erased your memories.”

“I see.” He nodded in understanding, and Mikleo couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Sorey to accept anything he said. “What do we do now, then?”

“Oh, uh, I guess we go home. If that’s what you want, that is.”

Sorey’s eyes studied him. “It’s funny. I just met you, and you could be lying to con me or something, but I trust you. There’s just something about you that calms me.”

Without thinking, Mikleo placed his hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He started to move his hand away but Sorey held it in place.

“Don’t worry about it.”

What Mikelo really wanted to do was hug him, but he was grateful for at least this contact. “I didn’t tell the full story before. You and I are friends, but we are more than that.”

Sorey must have read the yearning in his eyes, because he flexed his fingers over Mikleo’s. “I see. I’m sorry that I don’t remember.”

Mikleo shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Do you think I will ever remember?”

“There’s no way to know. Perhaps if we give it time.” Then an idea came to him. “There is something we could try, if you aren’t uncomfortable.”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?”

Mikleo looked at their hands. “I want you to put your hand over my heart so that you can feel my heartbeat. I know it’s a longshot, but--”

Before he had the chance to finish, Sorey pressed the heel of his palm to his chest as he suggested. The fire Seraph sucked in a breath and blinked with sudden clarity. “Mikleo?”

“Yes,” Mikleo breathed, his voice catching on the single word.

“Mikleo!” He wrapped him in a hug, and Mikleo buried his face in his shoulder as the tears came. He’d always tried to appear strong for his sake, but it had been too much for too long for him to not break down now. The hand not on his chest rubbed at his back. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“I know,” he sighed.

Sorey waited for his tears to slow, before whispering softly, “Morning.”

Mikleo chuckled. “It’s almost nighttime.”

“Doesn’t matter.” A moment later, he said louder, “Seeing as I broke my promise, can I make another?”

“Okay,” Mikleo sniffled.

Sorey pushed him back so that he could cup his face. “Mikleo, I love you, do you know that?”

Mikleo laughed. “I’d have to be dense not to.”

“Good. Mikleo, will you spend the rest of eternity with me? Or at least, how ever much of it we have?”

“Yes.” He kissed him. “Yes, of course I will. That’s all I ever wanted, after all.”

“Me too.”

They kissed again, slow and tender and everything Mikleo had missed. Their foreheads pressed together when they parted. “Sorey,” he said, looking at the feather dangling from Sorey’s ear rather than his eyes. He felt shy after spending so much time apart. “Can we do something?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Feeling your heart’s always been a reassurance for me, and just now feeling mine was what reminded you of me, so I thought maybe we could just feel each other. Together.”

When he looked up to meet his eyes, there was something there Mikleo had never seen before. Something gentle and pleased but also akin to arousal.

“We should probably take our shirts off, then.”

Shivering not because of the wind, he nodded. He was sad they had to part to remove their shirts, but once they were off, Sorey moved his head back into place just as eagerly, making Mikleo’s heart swell. He grabbed Sorey’s hand and tugged it to his chest so that he could feel the emotion hiding beneath.

“Sorey.” There were so many things he would have tried to say, but surely his heart could convey anything far better than words could.

Sorey closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. After a long, silent moment, he tugged Mikleo’s hand up to mirror his. The patter beneath Mikleo’s fingers was strong and springly, a dance of affection. With their faces this close together, their breathes mingled, and when Mikelo let his eyes close, he almost felt drunk from the intimacy. The only thing more so he could think of was Armatization, when they had become one in mind and body, yet this was intimate on a different level. Through Armatizing they had been able to read each other’s minds and share the exact same experience, but that had always been with the intention to fight. It was goal oriented and quick paced, leaving little opportunity to savor the connection. This, was the exact opposite. It was nothing but pure, unadulterated experience. They might not be able to read each other’s thoughts, but they didn’t need to. The emotion was clear, the love between them distinct. Mikleo’s lips turned upward, his eyes watered, and his breath shallowed. Sorey, his mind sang. Sorey was here with him, and he was just as enamored by this reunion as he was. He could feel it thrumming through him like a song played on a fiddle.

Sorey’s free hand thumbed over his cheek, catching happy tears. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

Mikleo laughed. “Not in hundreds of years.”

“Well, you are, especially now.”

Mikleo opened his eyes so that he could stare at how mature Sorey now looked. His hair, not as long as Mikleo’s own, had grown, and his pale green eyes had darkened, and together these features made him appear older and wiser than before. Mikleo ran his free hand down the length of his hair, surprised by how soft it was despite his long sleep. “You aren’t bad on the eyes yourself, you know?”

“That so?” His eyes crinkled, and for a brief moment Mikleo wondered if it was possible to fall in love with him any more than he already was.

He nuzzled his nose against his. “I still can’t believe you are finally back. I’ve been so lonely.”

“I know.”

Mikleo didn’t like hearing the sadness in his voice, so he kissed it away. When Sorey gave him a look, he shook his head. “Sorry, forget I said that. Only happy topics, alright.”

“Yeah.”

Sorey entwined the fingers of their free hands and brought them down to their laps. Grateful, Mikleo squeezed his hand back and moved his face so that it was resting against Sorey’s shoulder. After a moment, Sorey removed his hand from his chest to pull him in an embrace instead. For a second Mikleo mourned the abrupt loss, but then he realized if he moved his hand out of the way, their chests could touch, so he wrapped his arm around the back of Sorey’s shoulder, pulling them as close together as he could. Their bare chests touched so that the connection was back in full force, heartbeat against heartbeat. They both shook at first, before their arms tightened and they just held on.

They stayed like that for an indefinite time. The sun had set a while ago and the air had gone crisp.

“We should probably head home,” Mikleo said into Sorey’s hair.

Sorey pulled back. “Elysia?” he asked hopefully.

“The one and only. It’s sort of a tourist town now, home of the Shepherd and all, but it’s still home. I kept all our old books and silly treasures. Remember that chalice we thought was the holy grail?” He laughed into his hand.

Sorey gave his own chuckle. “We always wanted adventure until we actually found it.”

“What are you talking about?” Mikleo crossed his arms. “I never stopped exploring ruins like we planned. Don’t tell me you aren’t up for adventuring.”

Sorey grinned. “What happened to me being more careful?”

“That was before we went on the most dangerous adventure of all. Besides, you’re a Seraph now, right? You can take it.”

“Oh, I see. I’m glad you are so worried about my wellbeing.” Sorey bumped his shoulder into his before rising and stretching out his stiff limbs. “Alright, ready to head home?”

Mikleo took his outstretched hand with a light heart. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

#my writing #sormik #sorey x mikleo #sorey #mikleo #tales of zestiria #tales #tales of #fanfic #fanfiction

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talesofourworlds · 2 years

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HURT [eizen @ post-zestiria edna]

send me ‘ HURT ‘ and my muse will tell yours about one of the worst injuries they’ve ever sustained, and how it happened…

The hows and whys of them being together weren't important to Edna in that particular moment. She was with Eizen again. Just... getting to talk. Maybe it was the will of those rifts they had fallen through, and the power of the world they found themselves in after fighting Alphen and the others. Whatever the case, she accepted it.

As they'd talked, the conversation shifted to injuries they had received. Of course he would want to know. Eizen must have guessed that she'd left Rayfalke and wondered what she had been up to.

"The worst I've sustained, huh? You're sure you want to know?" Edna paused for dramatic emphasis before letting the dramatic facade drop. Just teasing a little. She was ready to talk then, though, and so she took a breath.

"That award would go to one wound I got from that skeleton dragon we found on the Hexen Isles," Edna said. Or Silva, as Eizen had briefly known him. "The plan was supposed to be 'Don't let the skeleton dragon hit you, dum dum,' because duh. Who wants to deal with getting hit by something like that?"

"But leave it to Rose to try and get daring. She was pretty close to the dragon, dipping in and out to avoid its claws, but then she tripped up at some point. I wasn't even supposed to be fighting since the plan had been for Sorey, Rose, Mikleo, and Zaveid to take care of it. But I couldn't just sit around, so I kind of just acted." Edna shrugged. In the moment it had been much more heated, more of a split second 'Do I keep myself safe within Rose like Lailah's doing with Sorey, or do I protect Rose' sort of thing. She'd opted for the latter.

"Its claws got me pretty good, but I kept Rose from getting torn up herself. I guess I passed out after that, because when I came to Mikleo had me in his arms and was using Purity Heal on me. Pretty sure I saw Zaveid holding an empty Life Bottle, too," she said. Being in Mikleo's arms had been the more embarrassing part about it. Letting the younger seraph look after her just... wasn't something she anticipated. But she supposed she didn't have a lot of choice when she'd been recovering from getting cut by a dragon's claws.

"Anyway. The cuts I got from that incident mostly healed, so don't freak out. I'm fine now, Eizen," she said. "But yeah... got some scars on my chest now. Lucky me, huh. Guess I'm the dum dum academy graduate now."

#ic #Like an Early Blooming Flower (Edna)#Worlds Converging #armxtus

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lnkedmyheart · 3 years

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SorMik and the Camlann Reveal

So I've seen a lot of people call Zestiria a bad game and one of the things that gets brought up is Mikleo and Sorey's reaction to their past being revealed and how its unrealistic and wasted potential. So I'm here to basically talk about why their reaction makes perfect sense and why its far more interesting from a character standpoint than having them lose themselves in misery over it. Under the cut because minor spoilers and it's a bit long.

Neither Sorey nor Mikleo are the angsty type

Sorey and Mikleo are not angsty 15 year olds who think the world is out to get them. Unlike most teen protagonists they are actually very emotionally mature almost adults (in human years, I don't think Mikleo is an actual baby I think their psychological growth is the same as humans, they are just long lived and physically age slower). This could be in part due to their upbringing and how Zenrus's wisdom probably shaped their view on life but the boys are very supportive and have a very positive, if idealistic, view of the world. Anytime they are faced with misery they snap out of it and look at the bigger picture. And they talk things out. Be it Mikleo's issue with Sorey not wanting to make him a sub lord or Sorey's issue with Mikleo wanting to put himself at risk when he doesn't have to. They don't have a miscommunication but rather a conflict of interests. They both want to keep the other safe and when Sorey realises that what he is doing is taking away Mikleo's agency he backs down and apologises.

They have no reason to angst over Camlann and their past

Unlike Velvet who witnessed the destruction of her life and the death of her family neither Sorey nor Mikleo have any reason to really angst over their past. They were toddlers when it happened and literally have no memory of what happened. If anything what happened to them might as well have happened to someone else (in Mikleo's case perhaps quite literally since he is closer to a reincarnation than the same person) because they dont have those memories or experiences. And I'm willing to bet that they would have reacted the same way if this had happened to anyone else. Aside from that they also grew up in a very loving environment and not once were made to feel like they were somehow lesser which means that neither of them had any true reason for feeling abandoned or wronged by what happened. Its all literally in the past.

They aren't the type to hold pointless grudges over destiny

A lot of people mentioned that they found the idea that the boys didn't begrudge Zenrus for deciding their fate unrealistic. But to be very honest I think it would have been a huge deviation from established character for them to be mad at Zenrus for this. Note that neither of the boys are antiheroes, they're both extremely heroic and humble characters and jump at the opportunity to help everybody. Even Mikleo who comes across as untrusting of humans initially jumps at the opportunity to protect people he has never met. Furthermore its never shown that Zenrus raised them to be the Shepard and a sub lord. Zenrus has always presented the boys with free will and choice even if he knew that that's the path those two would go on. There was never any true manipulation on Zenrus's part.

The reveal was never brushed away as if it was nothing

I have literally seen people say that the scene was never brought up again. Mikleo and Sorey do have skits where they discuss the possibility of a different life and both choose their current life. Also Mikleo is clearly affected after he meets Muse because THAT is more meaningful to him than a life he never had. Also Mikleo is affected by the sacrifice reveal even if it doesnt turn him into an angry raging teen. He just deals with it in a way that fits his character.

From a character standpoint this is more interesting

Yes, I definitely think that from a story standpoint this isn't exciting since you dont get to see them angsting over their past or clashing with Zenrus or potentially being at risk of corruption but from a character standpoint this is far more telling and interesting. Zestiria's strongest aspect are its characters, they are not one dimensional narrative devices, all of the main cast has distinct personalities, experiences and perspectives. Thats what makes their dynamic strong imo. The fact that Mikleo, despite being a water seraph is never even touched by malevolence is something I find interesting because it is constantly discussed that he is extremely pure hearted and to me it opens up speculation that had things gone differently he could have been the shepard himself. And just because they are pure of heart doesn't mean they are naive idiots who don't know how the world works. They immediately pick up that the world is brimming with malevolence but they are smart enough to know that people have reasons and not everything can be boiled down to black and white perspectives. And their incorruptible pure pureness comes not from some random trope but from their belief in themselves and the good people around them which again is not their naivety but rather that they literally have antiheroes like Edna, Dezel and Zavied around them.

Infact this makes both Sorey and Mikleo really strong characters because despite everything they have to see as a shepard and a sub lord they never falter. This is only amplified with Mikleo because he literally has to be incredibly emotionally strong so as to not be affected by malevolence in the several centuries that Sorey was asleep. Even in Asteria we know that Mikleo is on the good side and trying to save Sorey, their conviction is what makes them strong and I honestly don't think it was a missed opportunity at all. I also do believe that a lot must have gone wrong in the fractured universe for Sorey to become Lord of Calamity which makes the idea really interesting because what could have driven him to that extreme? But even then his motivation is arguably driven by his desire to protect, he's just an extremist at that point.

So yea, I love how the game handled that part of the story. Its not something I expected because I'm so used to the random angst upgrade and character derailment that games and anime do and I'm glad Zesty didnt be do that. That being said this is where fanfics come in, so as to explore the various potential routes something could have gone.

#SorMik #these two support each other so why have any angst #tales of zestiria #rant?#idk just thoughts #its closer to meta maybe #they are good strong boys and not angsty teens that listen to MCR and talk about how the world is against them #zenrus and the Elysians were a good influence #they raised two perfectly sweet smart boys

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somefinelipstickonthatpig · 4 years

Text

Of Dreams and Memory Zestiria // AtlA AU // Oneshot #9

[Read on AO3]

As the gang begins to infiltrate the Fire Nation in order to save Muse, surprising revelations come to light.

tw // mentions of physical abuse

- o - o - o -

A frantic gasp shatters the silence of the fire prince’s bedchamber. Prince Sergei’s arms shake behind him, sweat beading along his brow. His chest rises and falls with every breath, entirely too warm even without a shirt to cover it; his blanket pools around his hips, also entirely too much. Instinct makes him kick his feet over the side of his bed, shoving his covers aside. His eyes dart through the shadows, but in the night, everything is still and calm. Tranquil. His balcony doors are still shut and bolted. The long curtains don’t rustle.

With a withering sigh, he hides his face in his hands.

“Just a dream,” he lies to himself. “Nothing more. No need to lose yourself over this, Sergei.”

The past is meant to remain in the past.

…and yet.

He can still recall with perfect clarity the twist of his stomach at a singular raised hand twelve years ago. Admittedly, the imprint the image had left on him has always struck him as strange. Why does such a thing affect him when he himself had fallen under the shadow of that hand so many times?

Maybe it was his tears, he thinks. Or perhaps it took finally seeing it happen to someone else to awake in me—something like empathy.

Ironic, Sergei thinks, as he uncurls and tilts back his head to his ceiling.

The canopy above his bed is the same as it has always been for so many years.

“I haven’t had that dream in a decade,” Sergei murmurs. Which leaves one more important question, as tangible as the sweat he can feel beading down his temple. It draws a thin line down from his brow to his neck.

Why now?

- o - o - o -

“Do I have to?”

Dezel’s stance doesn’t change in the slightest. His extended hand remains pressed against Sorey’s chest, frown firm on his face.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, Sorey caves. He reaches up to his ears. “But I like them.”

“And right now, those feather earrings are one of your biggest identifying factors,” Mikleo huffs. His arms cross over his chest and watches as the earrings pass from Sorey’s hands to Dezel’s. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t fall until Dezel finally pockets the earrings in Gramps’ travel bag. “If we actually want to sneak through the Fire Nation, then we need to make sure there’s no possible way anyone will recognize you. Now, for your hair.”

“First Atakk, then my earrings—now I have to take off my hair, too?!”

Mikleo rolls his eyes and play-punches Sorey’s arm. He fights the smile that wants to crawl on his face at the teasing and all-too-telling grin on Sorey’s face. “No. Idiot. We’re just wrapping your head. Word is spreading about your crazy hair. This scarf should do the trick.”

Sorey grins. “Should I be flattered? Ah, what the heck.” With one final sigh, he bows, head shoved towards Mikleo’s chest. “Might as well get it over with. Want to do me the honors?”

“I suppose.”

- o - o - o -

When Lailah hears dusty footsteps behind her, she turns and gasps widely, happily. “Why, Sorey! You’re hardly recognizable!”

“Well, I think you’re being nice, but thanks anyway!” Sorey grins cheekily. For good measure, he gives a spin. The small tail of his yellow scarf, peeking out from where it’s tucked in at the nape of his neck, bounces with the rock of his weight. “How do I look?”

“Like a true citizen of the Fire Nation!” she hums and claps her hands together.

Sorey laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, you think so…?”

Lailah nods. “All of you do!”

Dezel hums and brings up the rear of their party. When he holds out Zenrus’ bag, Sorey takes it and loops it over his head gratefully. Of all, Dezel seems the most uncomfortable in the reds and deep blacks and browns of the Fire Nation jacket and pants hanging loose around his figure. “Then let us reunite with the Sparrowfeathers as quickly as possible. We should thank them for procuring us these garbs.”

Sorey looks up at Dezel, both hands wrapped around the bag strap. “You think Rose and Eguille made it into the palace okay?”

“They’re professionals, Sorey.”

“Yeah, and I know you said that before, but I still don’t fully get how that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

“It means,” Dezel hums and walks past Sorey and out of the alleyway into the street. “That it should have been obvious to you long ago that selling imports isn’t the only business the Sparrowfeathers partake in.”

Sorey still doesn’t know what to make of that.

Before he can follow his teacher out onto the street, Lailah puts a hand on his shoulder. “Sorey—listen. There’s one last thing we have to take care of before we depart. We need to change our names.”

Sorey’s eyes widen. “Everyone’s names?”

“W-well, most of the others should be fine, actually!” There’s a falter in Lailah’s voice Sorey hasn’t heard before, a hitch in speech that twists Sorey’s stomach and zeroes his attention on her, wondering if there’s something in her words he missed that he should have paid attention to. Something he should understand or know but doesn’t. “Rose and the others are from the Fire Nation already. Their names are fine. Mikleo and Dezel aren’t too obvious detractors. But you and I…well, just to be safe, we should call each other by different names until we’re out of the Fire Nation.”

“Really?” Sorey frowns. “Why? Do so many people know the Avatar’s name already…?”

“W-well—it’s—it’s just in case! You know? A precautionary measure. Yes!”

And there it is again. That wobbly uncertainty.

Sorey watches Lailah for a long moment. Lailah has always been difficult to read, always smiling even in situations when Sorey isn’t entirely certain she should smile. When finally he nods, he doesn’t miss the relieved sigh that slips out of her.

“Okay, so, we’ll go with something simple,” Lailah says, “There are many good names out there, so I’ll let you decide which one you want to use while we’re here…”

- o - o - o -

Boris doesn’t anticipate finding Sergei staring off into space at the window when he first walks in the crown prince’s quarters. At first, he turns around to duck his head out into the hall to make sure he’s walked into the right room before he turns around and observes his brother’s dazed profile.

Huh.

Perhaps he can capitalize on this.

“Looks like someone still needs sleep,” Boris begins and clasps his arms behind his back, striding forward with long, lazy steps.

Sergei blinks, jumps, and turns. The instant he sees Boris, however, whatever fright had tensed his figure just as quickly slips away. He pinches the bridge of his nose and makes a sound low in his throat. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me?” Boris scoffs and places a hand over his chest. He staggers back a step. “Ugh! You wound me, brother.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Boris laughs, but when Sergei doesn’t join in, the smile fades. He strides closer to slap a hand over Sergei’s shoulder. “Wow. You’re out of it. What, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed?”

“You could say that.”

Sergei’s voice is a quiet murmur.

It reminds Boris faintly of a barren desert. Dry and wistful, waiting for the slightest chance of rain. What a morbid comparison, he can’t help but think: to compare his brother to a lifeless ground. Boris shakes his head and squeezes Sergei’s shoulder instead. “Well, I can tell something is troubling you.”

“Of course it is,” Sergei mutters. “There’s always a great many number of things troubling me.”

Boris rolls his eyes. “Now who’s being dramatic?”

“I simply—”

It’s not the first time that Boris has seen Sergei’s eyes mist over. Sergei, for all of his stiff manners and rigid posture, has always had the more tender, weepy heart. He cries much more easily than his twin.

But it is the quickness of it, the suddenness of those wet eyes, that draws Boris up short.

“—he’s out there, Boris,” Sergei whispers tightly. “We know this, now. We know he is there. Somewhere. After all this time…and I had every opportunity to hold him again and lost it. How can such a thing make me as happy as much as it hurts me?”

Boris doesn’t need to ask who.

“Do you think he will ever know?”

He squeezes Sergei’s shoulder again. “I can’t say, brother.”

Boris doesn’t know what to make of the silence that follows. Is it mournful? Hopeful? Expectant? Or is it something else entirely?

- o - o - o -

“S—Daija! Hey! Don’t run ahead so fast!”

Sorey grins and spins around. “Ah-ah-ah! You almost slipped, Mikleo!”

“No thanks to you!” Mikleo scowls. “What are you doing, running around like you own the marketplace?”

“There’s food to eat, Mikleo! I’m starving! Plus, I haven’t had any of this stuff in like, ages, so I’m super excited to eat it again.” Sorey’s hands are tight around the bag strap over his shoulder. He’s practically running in place as he waits for Mikleo, Lailah, and Dezel to catch up. “Besides, what else are we supposed to do while we wait for Rose and Eguille? I remember there used to be these delicious roasted komodo chicken kabobs with lots of different veggies between ‘em—I don’t even remember what they were! But they were so good! I wonder if we can find some…”

Mikleo’s face tightens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Sorey continues breezily. He splays a hand out, looking around at the food stalls they pass by, where fruit of various sizes and shapes sit on display. There’s a salty, savory smell in the air and Sorey breathes his lungs full of it. “Man! I haven’t eaten some of this stuff in ten years! This takes me back!”

Mikleo bites his lip. Idly, he scratches at one arm with the fingers of his opposite hand. “It does, huh…?” He catches sight of the palace walls, further down the marketplace.

Above their heads, giant banners dangle in the air, red and gleaming. Their golden trim catches the light, framing the illustriously painted silhouette of a bearded, fire-crowned man who Mikleo has no doubt is Fire Lord Heldalf himself.

And with that face literally hanging over us, still he smiles?

“Is that…a good thing?” Mikleo hedges.

Sorey jerks around. His green eyes stretch wide. “Huh?”

Suddenly, it’s very hard for Mikleo to meet those eyes. He crosses his arms around his middle. “I mean…you never…”

What am I trying to say here?

“You never talked a lot about what life was like for you in the Fire Nation before you and Gramps came to the South Pole. So I guess I always thought you hated it. Or you didn’t remember it.” And maybe, some part of a very young and impressionable Mikleo had enjoyed being able to be part of a positive change in a friend’s life and took pride, even, in the possibility that his home was the better home for Sorey. “Was I wrong?”

“What?” Sorey blinks and shakes his head quickly. “No! I—”

Sharply, Sorey looks away, too.

Mikleo watches him for a long moment. His chest twinges. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” Sorey shrugs but there’s something in his eyes that is far-away as if trying to recall something that he’s long forgotten. “I don’t remember everything, but what I do remember from over ten years ago isn’t…that great. I guess I just didn’t want to think about those parts. Y’know?”

Mikleo steps closer. He squeezes Sorey’s hand. “Yeah.”

Sorey smiles.

Mikleo tilts his head. “So…can I ask…?”

“Ask what?”

“About what you do remember?”

Sorey hitches a breath and looks away. “Uh—well, I—”

“It’s the Fire Lord!”

“Fire Lord Heldalf!”

“He’s coming!”

Sharply, immediately, a commotion breaks out further down the street. Sorey and Mikleo share one look and jerk back as a procession clears the way, quick to hide behind the thinning edge of the crowd as a palanquin approaches. Mikleo holds tight to Sorey, as an ornate, golden palanquin is carried down the center of the street.

It’s plush, regal. Upholstered with only the finest satin and cotton. The heavy, dark curtains are pulled back with golden ropes, and through the posts, and holes in the honeycomb half-walls, the stern, wide profile of the Fire Lord can be seen, his thick, dark beard curling over his chest.

“Make way for Fire Lord Heldalf!” the attendants ahead of the palanquin shout, their backs straight and rigid, arms extended.

“Daija!” Lailah’s voice calls from far away, a worried note in her pitch.

Oh.

Time might have stopped.

Maybe it did.

About what you do remember, Mikleo had asked.

“I—”

The Fire Lord doesn’t glance at them. Nothing in his stern countenance shifts as his palanquin is carried by. The frown on his square face doesn’t budge; his eyes stare at nothing. Perhaps they are nothing to him; all of them.

But for just a moment, he is closer than he has been in ten years.

And it is enough.

Mikleo squeezes his hand. “Daija?”

The palanquin has passed.

Sorey blinks once, twice, and thinks he can remember plenty. “I know that face.”

“What?”

“I know—”

A raised voice out of an angry face. There were always so many lines digging into the skin high above the man’s brow and around his mouth. It had always looked as if his face had been distorted, every time he would spit, No true son of mine would ever turn out to be a lowly nonbender—and it hurt, it hurt, so much that all Sorey could think of at the time to say over and over again, prostrating himself, was, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Dad—

“Bergs!”

Sorey stumbles back.

Mikleo clasps his hands around his arms, eyes wide. A pale moonface flooding his vision. “So—Daija! Are you okay?! What’s wrong?”

Sorey raises his eyes. Immediately, Lailah and Dezel are there, squeezing closer through the massive press of people around them. Her hands flutter towards him first before threading together in front of her stomach, shaking. Her fingers are clutched so tightly, her skin burns a brighter, pallid white.

“I think…” the Fire Sage says quietly and slowly, “…we should find a place to sit.”

- o - o - o -

The door opens with a creak, loud enough to break Sergei out of his reverie. He lifts his head from his fist as a young soldier strides in and respectfully bows. His eyes dart down to the reports and maps scattered across the table in front of him that he hasn’t been paying attention to all morning.

What will Father say when he knows what little work I’ve managed to finish?

With a tight wince, Sergei rubs his forehead.

The soldier remains bowed even as her voice—unfamiliar to him—rings out: “A message for you, Crown Prince.”

“Oh?” Sergei waves her forward. “I won’t ask who it’s from. It’s undoubtedly Father again with another matter he wants me to address while he’s out. Bring it here, then.”

As she steps forward with the scroll held out, Sergei takes a glance up and takes in the strange, unfitting way the uniform falls over the young woman’s form. She’s short; the armor looks like it would have fit better on someone two sizes taller.

“Are you a new recruit?” he asks as he takes the extended scroll.

The soldier ducks her head. “Yes. I’ve not yet been in the service for two weeks, your highness.”

“Mm.” Sergei nods. That explains it. His fingers catch on the edge of the scroll as he begins to distractedly unroll it. “When you can, inform your superior officer that the Crown Prince approves of you being fitted for more comfortable armor. I’d hate for you to be encumbered thusly by ill-fitting attire and unable to perform your duties.”

“Oh—” The soldier flounders for a second, her mouth flapping uselessly. Not for the first time, Sergei finds he hates the Fire Nation helmets that obscure half of every soldier’s face. A strand of red hair tickles her cheek, peeking out beneath the cover of her helmet. “Thank you, sir.”

Sergei nods and lifts a hand. “Dismissed.”

For a woman wearing armor much too large for her, she does not haste in making her departure.

The scroll unrolls quickly in Sergei’s hands. His eyes fall upon the end first—a habit he has always had since he was a child, eager to see who sent the message before reading its contents—but as soon as he sees the name Sorey in scratchy, misshapen letters, inked at the bottom, he freezes.

He jerks up so fast, his knees catching on the edge of his table, nearly upending it and spilling papers and figures and quills to the floor. With little care for anything that has fallen, Sergei launches himself to the door and opens it wide.

“Wait!” he shouts into the hallway.

Only the men already standing guard jerk to attention.

Even when they search the entire palace, the redheaded soldier with the too-big armor is nowhere to be seen.

- o - o - o -

Sorey sits on a large wooden shipping box, his back to a stone wall, holding his face in his hands. He hasn’t moved for several moments, bent and silent. Mikleo hovers at his shoulder, violet eyes traveling over the other faces of their small party as they wait. For a moment, he wonders if he’s the only one who missed what had transpired on the street. Lailah and Dezel’s faces both are unreadable: Lailah’s pinched and Dezel’s frowning.

“Are…you all right, Sorey?” Mikleo murmurs.

Sorey sighs tightly.

“You remember now, don’t you?” Lailah says quietly.

Sorey doesn’t answer.

“I must admit, when I first met you, I had thought it strange you acted like you didn’t know at all, but…I don’t know. I figured you were young. Perhaps you forgot. Memory can be a fickle thing.”

“Remember what?” Mikleo asks. “What is it he’s supposed to remember?”

Finally, for the first time in several minutes, he speaks—and when he does, it’s defeated. Quiet. “That I’m a Fire Prince.”

Mikleo freezes. “You…” He spins on Sorey, body numb. “Wait, what?”

Sorey’s fingers press hard into his eyes before his hands fall.

This time, when he says it, he meets Mikleo’s gaze head on. “I’m a Fire Prince, Mikleo. Crown Prince Sergei and Fire Prince Boris, they’re my brothers. And Fire Lord Heldalf…I…he’s…he’s my father.”

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miyakuli · 4 years

Note

For the characters meme: Sorey, Makoto, Aizawa, Shiro, Viktor, Lio?

Give me 6 characters and I’ll tell you who i would...

Thank you :))

Push off a cliff : Sorey and then Mikleo will fuse with him and he would fly safely x) Kiss : I want to kiss Victor on his hear, where Yuuki keeps touching him, just to see if it’s that fluffy :p Marry : Makoto DID YOU REALLY THINK I WAS GONNA PICK SOMEONE ELSE Set on Fire : Lio because it won’t hurt him x’D Wrap a Blanket around : Shiro bcs boy does he need to rest Be Roommates with : Aizawa, long sleep and cats, hell yeah

#you give me so many sweet characters I didn't want to hurt any of them x'DD #ask meme #ask #queerojpag #queenrojpag

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sormikbigbang · 4 years

Text

Masterpost

We’ve come to the end of the SorMik Big Bang 2019! Before we move on to the master post for 2019, we would like to express our sincerest thanks to all of you. It has been a wild ride and us mods couldn’t thank our participants enough for being such lovely people to work with. There’ll also be a feedback form the participants can fill in! The link will be distributed through email and shared in our discord server. We would like to know how you think about us and how you would like us to improve through our feedback form!

If you missed your chance this year, don’t worry, we’ll be back again in 2020! Do stay tuned for some exciting information on where this event will be going next year!

Without further ado, here’s the master post for all entries of SorMik Big Bang 2019!

Masterpost

(Announcement: Not all artists/writers have posted their works yet, so this masterpost will be updated gradually as they post until everyone has posted.)

As Soft as Feathers by Kagaminekupcake | Art by Melly Mel (still yet to be posted) & KimmySnacks

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Two kingdoms lay near one another, and with the queens sharing a friendship, they thought it only natural to continue the friendly relations through their successors. Prince Sorey and Prince Mikleo grew up, therefore, spending their summers together and sharing memories over the pages of dusty novels. However, upon Sorey’s near coronation, Selene informs Mikleo that she plans to betroth him to a princess of another land. Mikleo argues heatedly with her before storming out of the castle, but he was never seen afterwards. All Sorey could find in the rain was his circlet- a prized possession he knew Mikleo would never leave behind. Maybe the swan he discovers in the forest in the following days can give him a clue as to where Mikleo has gone…

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Dola625 | Art by mallowkey

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: Luvdisc love fortune has set its sight upon a pair of childhood friends who need just an extra push with tons of water, a sunset and of course Mikleo and newly smitten Luvdisc.

La Fragilité Des Grues en Papier by Naminette | Art by Kinsdura

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Was it possible that his mother's tales were true? A sacred mountain where the Kamis' sanctuary lay. Away from the human world they lived in. Wings adorn their back, divine beings that were one with nature. This is were Mikleo place was, where he would be safe and happy. Until years after a plague broke into the village in the valley and a young human had no choice left but to seek the gods' help without knowing how it would change Mikleo's world.

Everything you left behind by Strikedawn | Art by Retto

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: After his uncle's death, Mikleo is forced to run away from his office for the weekend and tend to Camlann, Michael's old manor and his own childhood home. The house has seen better times-- Mikleo definitely won't be able to sell it like this.

(Does he even want to?)

But his uncle's metaphorical ghost isn't the only thing within those walls. There is Lailah and Zaveid, who have made of Camlann their house as much as Michael did. There is Sorey, with his lovely smile, his pure intentions, and his love for the decrepit house. They are everywhere in the house, making it theirs, making Mikleo feel... things. Mikleo definitely won't be able to sell the house like this.

(But then again--does he even want to?)

Demons, Mysteries, and Feathery Celestialness by Sage | Art by Oliver Niko & Vonderer

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sorey is a cop. When his current case turns out to involve elements both demonic and angelic, he suddenly finds himself both in over his head and with a new partner. Neither he nor the angel Mikleo are particularly happy to be saddled with each other. Can they work through their differences to solve the case?

Moon Phases by Melly Mel | Art by Raine

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: "The Sun has long fallen in love with the Moon and has done everything in his reach to conquer its heart, but the timid and stubborn Moon has always rejected it, afraid of these feelings. Time will teach that one cannot simply ignore such a strong and true love for so much time."

A story that tells how Sorey, the sun prince, falls ill for love after so many years trying to conquer the love of Mikleo, the moon prince, who’s not willing to believe him and misunderstand everything.

Fountain of Youth, the Elixir of Eternal Life by MegumitheGreat | Art by ZYO

Ranting: Explicit

Summary: At Lailah's request, Sorey and Mikleo take a break from their adventure and go through Pendago Shrinechurch's library. Coming across a legend titled "Shelanoir's Forest", they find themselves trapped within its pages and living the roles of the characters inside.

Resonance and Resistance by Eachainn | Art by Illium

Ranting: Mature

Summary: After eight years apart, Mikleo is more than ready to pick of the threads of the hopes and dreams that they had left drop when Sorey had left for Pendrago. But things are rarely that easy, especially when the Shepherds are involved. After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a Shepherd in possession of a good resonance must be in want of a seraph.

A Sormik Regency Era AU

Chasing Dreams by RoyalDelirium | Art by Mewnia

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: And this is where their tale begins, they did not really know what would await them out there, but they had dreams to chase and questions to answer. As long as they were together nothing could escape their grasp.

The Best Tour by Spectrum-sanctuary | Art by ArdentKnight & Unko (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: In the archaic city of Ladylake where there are more canals than brick pathways, boats called gondolas are the major mode of transportation and location of work. The most renowned of these occupations are those who guide tourists around the romantic and historic marvels of the city while rowing the gondolas, the gondoliers.

Seventeen-year-old Mikleo is among them, renowned for not only being young but also graceful and skilled with the oar. When he meets the newly-arrived student Sorey in the city, his usual life among the waves and ruins transforms into a tale of adventure and excitement... and perhaps even love.

The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag by Pengiesama | Art by Nami & Minstrels

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sorey and the crew investigate reports of a black market trafficking ring, and zero in on a particularly nasty noble at the center of it all. Luckily, said noble is opening his chateau to host a masquerade – the perfect opportunity to get close. Unluckily, the Shepherd’s fame has spread wide, and Sorey needs a disguise to make sure he’s incognito.

This is achieved by the obvious solution, and that's to disguise him in a dress and pass him off as Rose's sister. What could possibly go wrong?

Sir Sorey and the River Dragon by Treya-barton | Art by Kishi

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sir Sorey is a curious, gentle knight from the kingdom of Ladylake ruled by a fair and beautiful Queen. One day she is approached by a village with news that they are being plagued by a dragon that is blocking their access to a river they use for trade. Sir Sorey is sent on a quest to investigate this dragon in order to resolve the villager's dilemma.

The Benefits of Being Impulsive by FortunesRevolver | Art by Aimi

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: It had all started out of sheer spite -- Sorey’s own bizarre desperate need to prove to his grandfather that he wasn’t that impulsive. Really, if he really wanted impulsive, Sorey could be impulsive. Or, maybe, somewhere deep down, he’d just wanted to talk to the really, really pretty boy sitting by the pool with stunningly white hair who just happened to be holding a copy of his favorite book series ever.

Art by MegumitheGreat (Their writer wasn’t able to get to finish due to personal reasons, but still asked MegumitheGreat to post their art anyway because it’s so cool!)

Trust, Betrayal and Beyond by Sabi | Art by Mikleohno

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: A long time ago, the country was separated into two factions: the Lotus faction and the Lily faction. Both factions had opposing ideals, which resulted in a war that lasted for decades. The war finally ended when the Lotus faction killed the Lily faction’s leader, thus bringing peace back to the land. Our story takes place a century later, focusing on Mikleo, the prince of the kingdom, who is doing everything he can to repair this country, as well as his new servant, Sorey, whose background is shrouded in mystery.

Eyes on the Horizon by Oliver Niko | Art by Siciel

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Mikleo is a nobleman kept captive for the magic he possesses. Sorey is a pirate, his crew determined to grant freedom to those with said magical capabilities.

The two are brought together not by this alone, but also by their similarities; the goal to do whatever it takes to protect Rolance's people from its corrupt emperor, and find the truth behind their missing mothers along the way.

The Color of Twilight by Luneath | Art by Succu (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: “Ever since that day, Sorey has been looking for something. Desperately, yearningly, painfully. It's like chasing after a dream that’s hiding underneath his eyelids, almost there but not really. Just within reach, but could never be grasped fully. It’s like running after a figure — a blurred one, tinted blue, who owns half of his soul; his heart and his life. But he can’t remember. He knows, but never for sure. He just feels his heartstrings being tugged, but never to where or by whom. The more he tries to make sense of everything, the more he realizes it would hurt more to never find whatever’s — whoever’s gone. The only thing that gives him hope is the writing on his palm, tattooed in elusive curves that makes him feel warm and safe and nostalgic and a little like breaking. What’s written there, the meaning and the purpose — he doesn’t understand it at first. Not until some time. But even then, he swears he’s going to find whatever it is. And when he does, he’s never letting it go ever again."

[A Kimi no Na Wa (Your Name) AU featuring time travel, fluffy angst, switching bodies and switching lives, plus true loves and true names.]

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Miranda | Art by Okke (still yet to be posted) & Narain Yuna

Ranting: Explicit

Summary: Clergyman!Sorey x Non-Believer!

Mikleo The heavy wooden doors opened and closed with an echo throughout the chapel, all but empty save for the decorative lanterns with the names of the twelve apostles lining the pillars leading up to the alter, the hand-carved plaques in the right-wing hallway depicting the Stations of the Cross of the same number donated by the generous family, and the overwhelming but whole-fully welcomed presence of Him which he felt.

Sorey loved getting to do this-- well, he loved pretty much every aspect of his stay here as part of his training, but this was probably one of his top favorites: waking up to the early morning sun and say his morning prayers, picking some berries from his little garden as part of his breakfast before freshening up, and coming down to the church before Gramps arrived to start the day. He wasn't sure what made him want to say another morning prayer in the chapel when there was no need whatsoever. Perhaps it was simply just seminary habits or wanting the chapel to feel less... big? Lonely?

Or dusty?

He chuckled at the thought and shaking his head, and joyfully continued to walk towards the alter. Thinking back to his childhood, it use to be a dark green stone like the rest of the flooring. In it's place now was a white marble with gray veins scattering sparingly here and there. Gramps wasn't sure who thought it was a good idea, and Sorey didn't really pay it much attention.

As he approached the alter and began to kneel, pulling out his mini prayer booklet from his pocket, the front double doors opened and closed yet again. Hm, strange, Sorey thought for a moment. Normally Gramps doesn't come in this early since traffic from...

When he turned around to greet the wise old man who practically raised him from birth, Sorey was taken aback to see a young man with long dyed hair, faded black skinny jeans, and a somewhat revealing white and blue sweater with a v-neck that fell to show the side of his collar bone. Wait, was it dirty...?

It could've been the way he seemed to hold himself together-- just barely and could hardly seem like he wasn't shaking. It could've been the way his eyes, a deep blue from this distance, almost pleaded for mercy and safety. It could've just as easily been the way the light hit his unblemished face, his aquamarine tresses...

Sorey knew, deep down, that he would never forget this moment. Someone or something must have whispered something to his heart or to his soul that day, to never let this memory go.

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Mogseltof | Art by Lynxlantern & Ammerynth (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Since he was young, Sorey’s been friends with the curious, withdrawn sailor everyone in his seaside town avoids. Now he’s an adult, struggling to find material for his research, but his withdrawn friend has recently been made captain of his ship, and Sorey is offered the opportunity he’s been looking for -- the chance to get out of his town and see the places he’s actually researching. But Sorey has another reason to want to be out on the sea; they say there are mermaids in the waves, and Sorey has to know if his memories ring true, or if he imagined the boy in the river so many years ago. However, the voices of the dead sing loudly from the deep, and the captain is hiding something that may get them all in trouble.

We hope you enjoy the masterpieces made by our talented participants! See you again next year!

#Sormik #sormikbigbang2019 #toz #tales of zestiria #masterpost #sorey #mikleo #fanfic #fanart #mod post

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ice-cream-beat · 5 years

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Tales of Zestiria Perfect Guide Translation

The Beginning of Calamity

T/N: This covers everything on Camlann, including some new bits on Michael’s past. Major game spoilers!

How did the Age of Chaos envelop the world? The source of that chaos is the Lord of Calamity, whose creation was influenced by the previous Shepherd, Michael. The journey of the current Shepherd, Sorey, is tied closely to that man’s fate.

Shepherd Michael’s Journey

Michael was the Shepherd around twenty years ago, having assumed the role at a young age because of his outstanding qualities. Alongside his Prime Lord, Lailah, he traveled the world purifying hellions. His goal was to restore faith in Maotelus and the other seraphim, but at that time malevolence was heavily affecting the world, and his journey became a series of disappointments. Although he existed only a generation ago, few people remember his name, which can be considered a sign of the world’s indifference.

Relocating Maotelus In those days Maotelus was enshrined in the church in Pendrago, but his existence was threatened by the malevolence in the city. When Michael learned of this, he took Maotelus from the church and moved him to the place known as Artorius’ Throne near Elysia. Although these ruins had once been a shrine to the Five Lords, humans had long since forgotten about them and they were untouched by malevolence. Lailah advised that he protect Maotelus’ new location, and so Michael founded a village nearby with a few other believers. He afterwards dissolved his pact with Lailah, retiring as Shepherd and beginning a new life based on his faith.

The Development of Camlann Michael founded Camlann, the Origin Village, along with others who shared his fervor in worshipping seraphim. Many of them possessed high resonance and were able to see seraphim, including his younger sister, Muse. Because of the villagers’ deep faith, they were able to coexist with seraphim just as humans had in ancient times. This made Camlann into a sacred ground free of malevolence and a safe haven for Maotelus.

Writing the Celestial Record The author of the Celestial Record is a worldwide mystery--but Michael was the one who wrote it after retiring as the Shepherd. Drawing from his experience, opinions, and nationwide journey, he wrote extensively about the geography of different locations and the legacies of various civilizations, as well as his research into the historical time periods of the divided countries, and also included his input on their archaeology.

Caption: After retiring as Shepherd, Michael wrote the book that was later loved by men and women of all ages, and demonstrated the importance of revisiting history.

Character blurb: Michael After retiring as Shepherd, he didn’t seek to educate the public, but instead gathered a small group of believers with the focus of protecting the seraphim.

Character blurb: Muse Possessing a resonance that rivaled her brother’s, Muse supported Michael both publicly and personally. Her biological son, Mikleo, was later reincarnated as a seraph.

The Conflict of the Three Countries

At the same time that Michael founded Camlann, Rolance’s military was becoming active under the leadership of Heldalf, chief of the empire’s Knight Order. To battle the threat of Hyland’s invasion, he set his sights on establishing a foothold in Camlann, which he had believed to be an ancient ruin. The land was defended from Hyland in the east by the Mabinogio mountain range and sat on the western bank of the strait dividing Rolance and the northern country. As such, it was considered a buffer zone between the three countries and a strategic military location. When Heldalf discovered its value, he ignored Michael’s objections and seized the village. However, Hyland wanted the village for the same reason, and its army soon invaded. Wary of the northern country taking advantage of the chaos, Heldalf decided to abandon Camlann. The Rolance army withdrew and the Hyland army ravaged the village, ultimately destroying it only a few years after its foundation.

Maotelus’ Hellionization As Hyland attacked Camlann, Maotelus absorbed a large amount of malevolence and became a hellion. Because he was such a powerful seraph, his hellionization would eventually guide the world to ruin. Fearful of this possibility, Muse used herself as a human sacrifice to hold his malevolence in check. Maotelus remained sealed within the ruins of Artorius’ Throne for nearly twenty years--until he was used by the Lord of Calamity, Heldalf.

Caption: Maotelus disappeared after the destruction of Camlann, and his blessing was lost.

Heldalf’s Downfall and the Fulfillment of His Curse Despite Heldalf’s promise, he abandoned the village, and Michael made a oath-like curse in retribution. From that point on, Heldalf--who had many political opponents and was no stranger to attempts on his life--fell from his position of power due to the blame for his failure in Camlann, and found himself abandoned by his allies. His entire family succumbed to mysterious deaths, plaguing him with sorrow, and his beloved son was tragically born with an inhuman appearance. After this chain of events, he finally took his own life, but his body wouldn’t die. Filled with despair, he disappeared. Abandoned by time, he went on living in his “eternity of solitude,” and Michael’s curse was realized. The Lord of Calamity turned his back on the world, and Michael faded into history without ever knowing the disastrous consequences he had caused as the price for his vengeance

The Successors of the Land of Hope The only survivors of Camlann were Muse, who ultimately sacrificed herself, as well as Sorey and Mikleo, who were only infants at the time. Zenrus took them back to Elysia, where they grew to adulthood as best friends and were entrusted with his hope that they would one day become Shepherd and Sub-Lord. A human and seraph born on the land founded in reverence to seraphim, they could become the key to understanding the past and give the world new hope.

Caption: Following his death and the reincarnation of his soul, Mikleo was born again as a seraph and entrusted to Zenrus.

#jay translates #tales of zestiria #tales of zestiria: perfect guide #michael #muse #heldalf #lailah #maotelus #i keep my personal bias out of my translations but my tags are free rein so #unpopular opinion: heldalf was more sympathetic than michael #this excerpt humanizes michael a bit more than the game but #he's still a dick imo #heldalf was NOT in the right but he had logical reasons for his cold actions #michael had none #he was just being petty #three playthroughs later still mad #ok i'm sorry i'll shut up now

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eachainn · 5 years

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Sormik Week Day 1: Blue Tulip {Tranquility}

Author’s Note: So, in 2016 I wrote a fic and some shorts for the universe and I thought it was done. Apparently, I wasn’t. So, here’s another bit of the Kingmaker AU. All of this takes place just around the end of All Glory Ends in Light.

Overall Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, mpreg

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“There is a stillness, in the midst of which Richmond, with her ruins, her spectral roofs…and her unchanging spires, rests beneath a ghastly, fistful glare…We are under the shadow of ruins. From the pavements where we walk…stretches a vista of devastation…” -Reporter from the New York World

---

Light streamed in from the grand entrance to the ruin, illuminating the carvings on the walls. The ones the closest to the entrance had lost their paint, but Sorey could see flashes of color on the ones further back. He tipped his head back to look at some of the bird motifs along the top of the wall, smiling at the clever clumps of feathers between each bird before the pattern repeated. It was beautiful, and eye catching.

Sorey stepped closer to the writing that was along the wall. It was easier to read further in where the wind hadn’t gotten to it, and it made him feel better about the yawning void on the other side of him.

Sorey glanced over his shoulder, swallowing and edging closer to the wall. He pressed his palm against the wall, edging until he was safely under the overhang. He wasn’t human anymore, but he didn’t know how far his powers as a seraph would go. The most he could do was the silver flame, and that was barely in any kind of control. He gave his hands a worried glance. He hadn’t seen the flames of purification hurt anything, but the thought that it might curled his stomach. Besides, he still remembered how Mikleo had reacted to it.

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths. He didn’t want to do that, to inflict that pain. Sorey was sure that he had done enough of that already.

He opened on eyes as he heard someone picking their way towards him. Sorey smiled when he saw Selene standing on the walkway, seemingly oblivious to the sheer drop down the side of the mountain.

She tipped her head to the side, the move so like Mikleo it made him ache with the fondness. “No head for heights.”

“It’s not that.” Sorey pushed away from the wall, glancing down at the path. It looked solid enough, or at least without cracks that he could see. Sorey stepped forward cautiously, testing his weight as he moved along. “I climbed this mountain to get to Mikleo the first time.”

He looked up in time to see Selene shake her head. “Climbing the mountain is different than being here. You’re on the edge of the world here.”

Sorey turned to look down. There wasn’t much to see before the mist and the clouds got into the way. Sorey was sure that it would be an inspiring view of the valley that Camlann and Kyfle-on-the-Mountain was in. He might have been able to see Artorious’ Throne clearly, a through that made him shiver.

He rubbed absently as his chest, finally looking away from the clouds. He hadn’t been back to Artorious’ Throne since had had returned, and he had no plans to. He felt like it would be too much, too many memories that he wanted as dead as he had been.

“When I lived here, Dad used to bring me up here all the time.” Sorey turned to look at Selene, watching as she turned and walked back to the dais and mural further back. “I was one of the first places we explored. We try to come up here every time I can come home.”

“You must know this place better than anyone.”

“Almost.” Selene paused, staring back at the mural. Sorey edged along the walkway to stand behind her. He smiled when he saw Mikleo sitting on the dais, sketching the mural that stretched above him. Every once and a while he would look up at the mural and frown, Sorey seeing his lips move as he muttered something to himself.

Selene shifted, Sorey looking over at her as her shoulders twitched. He tipped his head to the side, surprised when he turned back around to look at him. There was a faint smile on her face, but the usual uneasiness was there, like she didn’t know how to approach him.

She held his gaze for a moment before reaching up to touch the wall, her fingers light against the undecorated stone. “Dad says this is old, far older than he is. He says it was built around Destiny Dawn, but I’m sure it’s closer to the Temperance of Avarost. What do you think?”

Sorey turned to look back at the carvings, intending to study them to find out only to come up blank. He stared at the carvings, tracing their patterns down the rows with his stomach curling.

He had known this once. He had spent hours among his books blithely ignoring everything that was going on in the palace. Maybe that had been what Nadia had wanted, to keep him ignorant and out of the way of the horrible things that were happening.

It had worked for a while, to the point where it had worked as the excuse that got him out of Pendrago when he finally looked up and realized that the world was falling apart around him. And he had decided to do something. After all, he was no threat, he was just interested in old things. If he had hung around villages, it was because he was looking for falling down buildings, not trying to ferment rebellion or help villagers regardless of what side they had fallen on. He had left his history books behind then, and he had never looked at them again.

Sorey tipped his head back, staring at the ornate floral that had been carved between the ceiling and the wall, but his mind wasn’t on it. It was on wondering what had happened to his old books.

They had probably gone into a Pendrago library somewhere. After all, he had been a forgotten prince. No one knew what he had been before he had entered the wars of succession. That was for the best, it meant that they hadn’t been destroyed after he was gone.

He licked his lip, jerking his attention back to the wall, trying to remember anything that could help him. But it was like looking at a language that he didn’t recognize. Even the ancient tongue was piecemeal in his mind.

Sorey sighed, shaking his head. “I…I don’t know.”

Selene sighed. “Yeah, it’s a tough one. Dad swears that he has word of mouth evidence for him being right, but Aunt Melody and Natalie won’t corroborate.”

“They would know best.”

Something in his tone must have caught her attention, because Selene turned her head to look at him. He heard her make a sound, like the start of a word before she quickly corrected herself. “Sorey?”

Sorey shook his head. “I don’t remember much about this anymore.”

“Oh.”

There was nothing to say in the face of that, Sorey turning and making his way over towards the dais. He could feel Selene’s gaze on his back as he went, Sorey almost glad that she didn’t come after him. For one, these walkways weren’t meant for running along, for another, he didn’t know what to tell her. He didn’t know what Mikleo had told her.

He climbed up the three steps to the dais, looking over at Mikleo before waling over to where a sword had been left. Sorey crouched down to look at it, glancing up at the headless statue. The hand looked like it had crumbled away, which explained where the sword had come from. The statues was more protected under the overhang, but time had won out.

Sorey dropped his gaze back to the sword, tracing the odd, waving pattern of the blade.

“It’s a Shepherd’s sword.” Sorey looked over his shoulder at the sound of Mikleo’s voice. The seraph smiled at him, but he didn’t look away from his drawing. “They were never sharp because they were meant for purifying.”

Sorey tipped his head to the side, testing the thickness of the blade before shaking his head. “And bludgeoning.”

Mikleo shrugged. “It would stop a hellion, right?”

Sorey turned to look at Mikleo, his fingers curling around the blade. “One of the smaller ones maybe. I’m not sure about a drake.”

“I’m sure I would have been deterred with a hard smack. Hunger loses its edge when there’s pain involved.”

Sorey stared down at the sword, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

“I know.” Mikleo turned to smile at him. “You’ve never hurt me.”

Sorey swallowed, not trusting himself to respond, especially when it wasn’t true. He dropped his gaze back to the sword, tracing the designs. Half of them were so faded that he didn’t know where they would have gone, but he kept tracing out the designs of swirls and circles. It felt right, although that might have just been the design that he had in his own mind. The repetitive motion of it all was calming, although it didn’t stop the swirl of thoughts.

He had wanted to do this with Mikleo before everything had fallen apart. He wanted to show the seraph who had been stuck on a distant mountain the world he had seen. It had only been a small portion of it, but it had been worth seeing. He hadn’t succeeded in that either.

Sorey closed his hand around the blade again, staring down at the artifact without really seeing it. He felt like all of this was not real. Ever since he had been told that he was a Great Lord, the possessor of the flames of purification. Sorey stared at his hand, half expecting the flames to flare up and consume them all, but there was nothing. Sorey wasn’t sure if he was glad of it or not. He had no control of his power, he knew that.

He let up his hold on the sword, his hand quickly jerking towards the hilt when he heard someone coming.

Sorey turned his head, his eyes widening when he saw Selene walking past. With the way her eyes widened, she had seen what his reaction had been.

He swallowed, trying to come up with an explanation. It was habit, something long established form a life on the run. She had startled him. He would have never, he would have stopped himself before he had done anything.

Sorey remained tense as Selene came around to the other side of the dais. She tipped her head to the side, holding his gaze for a moment before dropping her gaze to the sword. Sorey felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for Selene to comment on it.

Instead, she moved closer to stare at the sword. Sorey swallowed, fighting the urge to tell her to back away before he did something regrettable. He had no control over his powers, and he was still half stuck in the past, it was a bad combination.

Sorey met her gaze as Selene glanced at him, not sure if he half imagined the nod that was given to him before Selene turned her attention back to the sword.

She whistled, her fingers tracing the pattern on the blade. “This is way better than some of the one’s you’ve found.”

Mikleo stopped drawing, turning to look at Selene with a raised eyebrow. She giggled and moved away to look at the statue. Sorey settled for looking between the two of them, finally settling on Selene as she started to circle the statue.

Selene frowned and leaned to look at something on the statue. It only held her attention for a moment before she was looking back their direction. “Dad only found hilts and fragments so far. That’s the first whole one from here. Where did you find it?”

Mikleo sighed and gestured towards the front of the dais. “Down there, practically down that hole that leads to…the statue room?”

Selene leaned out before shrugging. “I think. I’d need the map.”

Sorey perked up at that, twisting to look at Mikleo. “You’ve mapped it?”

“Badly.” Mikleo made a face before setting his journal aside. “It’s piecemeal and needs to be put together.”

“Like all the other artifacts.”

“There’s a system.” Mikleo shifted in place, rubbing a hand over his face before sighing. “It needs updating. I’ve let it go recently.”

There was a pause where Mikleo’s gaze flicking away, Sorey grabbing at the blade again. It was part of the seven hundred years that he had missed, but he at least could guess at this. The Lord of Calamity, the horrors that he couldn’t quite prevent in his own time.

He leaned towards Mikleo before pausing, his gaze flicking over to Selene. She was looking back at the statue, dropping down into a crouch to study what was there. She didn’t really react aside from rolling her eyes. “That and the library.”

Her gaze slid over to him, Sorey not sure how to take the thoughtful look that crossed her face. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know how to deal with the back and forth between the two of them. Sometimes, it felt like he got it, but other times it was like he slipped between and was left drifting along behind.

Selene looked him up and down before standing up. “You have help though. So, you don’t have to wait for me to come back.”

Mikleo drummed his fingers against his leg, Sorey not sure what that meant. He knew what Mikelo would have done, but all of those tells were impatience and anger. It was what he had mostly directed to people. The rest had been behind closed doors. That Mikleo was very protective, his clothing almost armor. He was more open now, and Sorey found himself lost trying to figure out the body language. He watched Mikleo shift, only belatedly realizing that Mikleo was trying to come up with something to say, and then feeling foolish for it.

He supposed that he was still easy to read, nothing had changed. But he was still looking for the angry and hurt seraph of seven hundred years ago. And Mikleo deserved better than that.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed Mikleo scooting closer. It was only when Mikleo bumped up against him that he turned, Sorey surprised to see Mikleo so close. Mikleo seemed just as taken aback, but Mikleo recovered better.

Mikleo leaned in, brushing their shoulders together again. “I could use the help.”

Sorey flicked his gaze up to the mural, surprised at the longing that he felt. He was supposed to be a Great Lord, there were duties that he would eventually have to shoulder. To do that, he needed to be able to control what he had. But he couldn’t refuse this, nor could he refuse Mikleo.

He offered Mikleo a smile, concerned when Mikleo didn’t immediately return the smile. Instead, he sighed and leaned into Sorey, Sorey shifting to take his share of the weight. He looked down at Mikleo’s head on his shoulder, surprised by the longing his felt.

He had what he wanted, he was free of the empire and sitting in ruins that he would have read about in the Celestial Record. Mikleo was by his side and Selene was there.

He looked over at Selene, watching as she smiled fondly at the two of them before she turned back to the statue. Apparently that was all she needed to be at ease, and Sorey felt a brief flash of envy before it leaked away. It was hard to keep a hold of it when some small part of him whispered that he should be content. It was listening to that voice that was the hard part.

Sorey sighed and let his head rest against Mikleo’s, giving into the longing no matter how guilty he felt about it. It wasn’t like he could move, not with the way that Mikleo’s fingers were twining with his. Moving would mean disrupting Mikleo and more explanations than Sorey wanted to give.

He slid his fingers more firmly against Mikleo’s holding to him tightly as he looked up at the grand mural of the Shepherd in all of their glory.

#sormikweek2019 #sormikweek #sormik #tales of zestiria #my fic #fic: kingmaker au

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masiah · 4 years

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"You're... very kind, Sorey," she spoke while hugging her knees close to herself, her eyes watching the flame before them both. This young man didn't see her as a monster even if she wasn't a human. Yes, he was kind. Unlike so many others who rejected her even in her own tribe. "I'm happy that we've met. Really, really happy. That's why I want... us to be friends. And I want to fight by your side if you'll allow me." Cardia offered him a softer smile now. ( ok but! your idea! earth seraph!! )

A cacophony of voices echoed like a dissonant symphony gone wrong in his head. Between Lailah, Mikleo, Dezel and Edna, the four Seraphim clearly had their opinions on a second earth seraph joining their ranks.

Edna always her sharp opinions, something he thought in a glance, was a shield to hide any lingering softness or sadness her situation brought her as much as it was a hardened boulder in her gut. Lailah, whose concern for him was not unnoticed, seemed eager and present to serve her duties as his Prime Lord and possibly grant this despondent seraph without a vessel a place to harbor herself within an aching Shepherd’s bones.

❝ …Cardia… ❞ It’s soft-spoken, the boy who carried the world in his bones, its hopes, its fears, its expectations and crushing weight of the duty laid out before him as prevalent as his dream interwoven with it. He felt the present ache more and more as he had to distance himself from both races he longed to unite, someday, but not today. For now a single step he’d take at least in staring at this desolate, elegant seemingly youthful young woman in the rain, despondent green eyes much like his own meeting his in grief and borderline despair.

With the malevolence, if she didn’t gain a vessel eventually, she may succumb, and like Edna’s brother, venture from hellion to dragon . . the point of no return for a Seraphim. Here she was, facing him with her conviction, heartfelt and heart-paid, and the Shepherd, the ushered messiah who chose and was not chosen, in that moment acted as Sorey. Not the roles associations, far too lofty and holy for a boy whose purity may have suited it, but held no desire for it.

She had was losing her light; slowly but surely. Was it not the Shepherd’s duty to restore it with his own, as himself? The world did not want Sorey. It wanted the Shepherd to purify the malevolence, to restore order and guide the people, the usher in salvation. A hardening, bitter truth, but one that Sorey had grown into as he was learning the hard way grasping with trembling fingers what innocence he had left as the world set into the very marrow of his bones as his to bear.

❝ Are you sure? I have a lot of friends talking in my uh, er, head right now. N-Not like that but your own kind. You can see them though, you know? It’s just … are you sure? It wouldn’t just grant you safety…being in my body. Nowhere I’m going is safe.

But…you wouldn’t ask if you hadn’t really, really thought about this. Lailah’s my Prime Lord…if you really want it, I’ll be your vessel and you can become one of my Sub Lords . But..is that what you want? My journeys take me tons of awesome places! And..some not so much. It’ll be riddled with malevolence.

If you don’t have to bear a burden, you shouldn’t have to… . but it isn’t my right to deny what you feel you should do. I’d be happy to have you. I know my friends all here would warm up to you too. ❞

Being bound by the whim of the Shepherd’s power, thriving off it is as a symbiotic relationship where her powers were enhanced by the fire seraph’s who served as his Prime Lord…ultimately being used as a weapon with her consent fusing soul to soul with the Shepherd himself…was that her wish of fighting?

His smile is gentle and kind, encouraging but not prodding.

❝ I already consider us friends. But..I gotta ask you this before anything else. What exactly do you want to fight for, Cardia? You don’t owe me anything.. you can easily not give me your true name or do the rites with Lailah and find a safer place free of malevolence and I can visit you as best as I’m able.

It’s not like I don’t want you with us. I just…it’s hard to get anyone more involved than they have to with everything. And the ‘everything’ is uh, kinda a whole lot.

So…why do you want to fight so much? I’m not weighing you joining us on whether your answer satisfies me or something, I just want to understand who wants to join my side so…well, fiercely. ❞ / @horclogium

#horclogium #here you go!#he's welcoming her but also like 'i'm bearing the world with my friends helping out why do you want that '#he's so hesitant to involve his loved ones #even if he knows he can't do everything alone #☀ IC┊: to carry a passion for life and dreams; to carry the world’s as if your own.#☀ ASKS┊: never confessing to knowing everything; instead each day i learn.#but yeah he'll cave and let her join #!!! earth seraph cardia #!!!

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pengiesama · 5 years

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The Blue Bird (Fic, TOZ, Sorey/Mikleo, Fairy Tale AU)

Title: The Blue Bird Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary: In which Sorey is kidnapped by fairies, turned into a bird, and is rescued by the power of love, the power of song, and the power of a speeding chariot plowing through walls.

(A variation on The Blue Bird, written for the 2018 Chocomint Fairy Tale Compilation. With illustrations by yunafezeria!)

Link: AO3

This was written for the 2018 Chocomint Fairy Tale Compilation. @chocomint-srmk is a Sorey/Mikleo fan project!

The zine’s purchase period is now over, but you can check out some of the other fic and art from the zine in the links below. You might start seeing more of the Fairy Tale pieces go up now that the exclusivity period has ended!

You can see the full version of the illustration on Yun's Twitter, or on the AO3 link.

Chocomint's Tumblr: https://chocomint-srmk.tumblr.com/ Chocomint's Twitter: https://twitter.com/chocomint_srmk

Read on Tumblr!

Prince Sorey’s thirteenth birthday was approaching, and he knew that it was going to be the best one ever.

“How do you figure that?” asked Mikleo, who was already thirteen, and considered himself much wiser than Sorey for it.

“You know why!” Sorey said. He very nearly vibrated with excitement. “You’ve heard our families talking. They’re going to formally announce our betrothal!”

Sorey and Mikleo often eavesdropped on their families’ discussions during their play dates. Most of the discussions were on topics uninteresting to a pair of young ears – though they doubted they were truly interesting to adult ears either. But amongst the talk of trade agreements and crop yields, Sorey and Mikleo sometimes overheard bits of juicy gossip. Such as talk of their own upcoming engagement.

It would be a truly beneficial arrangement for all involved. Mikleo was a prince of his own kingdom, and had been playmates with Sorey since the cradle. They shared everything during their long summers together, and were devoted pen pals. A political alliance would surely usher in a new era of peace and prosperity.

To Sorey, the idea of getting to marry Mikleo – for real, not pretend, and in front of everyone – the idea of getting to spend their whole lives together…well, that sounded just wonderful all around.

Mikleo was blushing, and Sorey couldn’t help but throw himself at him to kiss those red cheeks, even as Mikleo squawked at him angrily. Yes, this would be the most wonderful birthday present Sorey could ever ask for.

As the sun rose upon the thirteenth anniversary of Prince Sorey’s birth, the castle found itself in a terrible panic. The prince was gone.

His room, the library, the kitchens, the garden gazebo – in all his favorite spots, he was nowhere to be found. Nurses and housekeepers and guards and cooks and courtiers upended every room in the palace in their frenzied search. The queen was beside herself – all the precautions she had ordered to keep her son safe on his birthday were for naught. The guards posted swore they saw no one enter or leave; neither the prince nor his kidnappers. But alas, the kingdom’s mages gravely informed the queen that their protection upon the room had been disrupted. The wards of iron shavings and salt were disturbed.

Mikleo heard all of this from their normal eavesdropping spot. It was so lonely there, now.

The royal families ordered a search for the kidnapped prince that spanned both kingdoms. Alas, instead of being brought together by the announcement of a happy engagement, the two kingdoms became rent by suspicion – the kidnappers were treasonous nobles who were against the kingdoms’ alliance; the kidnappers were revolutionaries from this kingdom or that, out to topple stability and order. Surely the prince was dead by now. It was a waste of money to continue this fruitless search.

The search continued for a year, and then two. And then more. Mikleo stopped being able to count the march of days. They all seemed very much the same now, without Sorey. Somewhere along the way, Mikleo took to isolation. He rarely left his tower room, with its single window that looked out onto the sprawling forests that he and Sorey had once explored and read and picnicked in. Sometimes it was unbearable for him to look at it; at other times, he seemed to stare out into it for days, lost in the wooded depths of his own memory.

Five years came and went.

Mikleo’s mother begged him to leave his room. Sorey’s queen mother was a picture of royal dignity, she said – ruling her kingdom even though her heart was surely filled with the same keen despair that ate at Mikleo’s own. Surely Mikleo could emulate such an example. He would be eighteen, soon, and the crown would be placed upon his brow, and the kingdom on his shoulders. Mikleo could not help but laugh at the very idea of it. A kingdom, wide and vast, ruled by someone who could not leave his room without being struck with nostalgic vertigo so keen it made him ill. He would decline the crown just as his uncle had, and he too would live out his years as a scholarly hermit.

One day, just a scant few weeks before his birthday, Mikleo’s hermitage was interrupted by a visitor on his windowsill: a songbird with splendidly blue feathers.

At first, Mikleo paid it no mind. Birds came and went from his windowsill often – it was rather expected when one lived in a tower. This little creature, though, was an insistent guest. It pecked at the glass – tap-tap, tap, tap-tap-tap – until Mikleo could no longer ignore its presence. It hopped from foot to foot and sang its heart out when Mikleo approached to look at it. Hesitantly, but driven by the insatiable curiosity that defined him in his happier days, Mikleo opened the window and was greeted by a flurry of wings and birdsong. His guest only settled down when Mikleo offered his crooked finger as a perch. Satisfied, the bird fluffed out its chest, and began to sing for him once more.

The bird returned the next morning, greeting him with eager chatter as the sun first glittered through the glass, and stayed with him all day; leaving only when night fell.

“I haven’t had guests in a while,” Mikleo admitted to the creature. “You’ll have to excuse the state of the place.”

The bird simply chirped and picked up an edge of the page Mikleo was reading in his book, then determinedly and laboriously sidestepped with the page held in its beak until it was properly turned. Mikleo smiled – this, too, had not occurred in some time – and stroked the messy little fluff of feathers atop the bird’s head.

On the third day, his guest began to come bearing gifts. They were simple little trinkets: small and lovely stones, polished to perfect shining smoothness by the nearby river (Mikleo remembered the days spent with Sorey wading in its depths, trying to challenge each other to find the most unique and excellent specimens). Herbs from the forest with delicate little blossoms (Mikleo remembered reading to Sorey from his encyclopedia of herbal medicine, trying to find the right plants to soothe the stomachaches they’d gotten by eating the wrong plants). And, as always, the gift of a beautiful song to while away the lonely hours (Mikleo remembered their duets – Sorey on violin, himself on flute, and their music tutor desperately trying to keep them focused).

After a week of gifts and companionship and song, Mikleo opened the window to greet his blue bird – only to freeze at the sight of the gift in its beak. The bird fluttered in, perched on Mikleo’s finger, and dropped the gift determinedly in Mikleo’s lap.

It was an earring. A feathered earring. Just like the ones he used to wear, just like – Mikleo took the earring between two trembling fingers, and examined it closer. No, no. It wasn’t just “just like” them. It was one of Sorey’s earrings. Mikleo felt tears sting his eyes.

“Little blue bird,” Mikleo whispered. “Where on earth did you find this?”

The bird remained uncharacteristically silent, and stared into Mikleo’s eyes – as if it wanted to speak to Mikleo just as badly as Mikleo wanted to hear its tale. Mikleo took a deep breath, and composed himself.

“Thank you,” he finally said. “I finally have something to remember him by. You have my eternal gratitude, my sweet little friend.”

Mikleo had nothing to give the bird in return, save for cool water and leftovers from his lunch. He supposed a kiss would have to do, for now. Mikleo bent down, and pressed his lips to the little fluff of feathers atop the blue bird’s head.

“Mikleo! Mikleo!”

Mikleo jumped out of his skin, and toppled backward in his chair; sending the bird fluttering wildly through the room, calling out Mikleo’s name over and over. Mikleo would have chalked that last bit up to hitting his head on the stone floor, if he was in a better state of mind. As it was, with Sorey’s earring in his hand and Sorey’s voice coming from a bird , Mikleo considered his state of mind rather questionable.

The bird finally settled down, and landed on Mikleo’s body. It took a few moments to catch its breath, and then hopped up to better look Mikleo in the eye.

“Mikleo,” the bird said again, for the dozenth time – though with no less love and jubilation as the first. “It’s me. I’m back.”

It was unmistakably Sorey’s voice. Surely Mikleo had finally lost his mind. But the gifts of the stones, and the herbs, and the song, and the earrings…Mikleo bade the bird to explain himself.

“What,” Mikleo said.

– Though it was not in such eloquent terms. The bird tittered a sweet little laugh; a laugh that Mikleo thought he would never be able to hear again.

“Sorry. I’ve been gone for years, haven’t I...? But you look even prettier than I left you.”

Sorey waited for Mikleo to pick himself off the floor and sit back in his chair before he fluttered to Mikleo’s desk to begin his tale.

“My mom was always…hesitant when I asked her about my father. Said she’d tell me when the time was right. When my thirteenth birthday approached, she was in and out of meetings constantly with the royal guard, with the royal magicians. On the night of my birthday, she locked me in my room and told me to not open the doors or windows for anyone, no matter who they said they were, until morning.

“That night…I heard so many people calling to me. My mother, my grandfather, and you too, Mikleo. I came so close to opening the door, but I remembered what my mother said, and just clutched my pillow over my head and prayed for dawn to come.

“But then, an hour before dawn, a little black cat tumbled down my chimney. She landed in the salt and iron shavings that the mages had piled there in the fireplace. She looked like she was in so much pain, like they were embers burning her alive. I couldn’t help but pick her up, dust it all off of her, and then…”

Sorey paused in his story, and then gave Mikleo a sheepish look.

“Well, as you can probably guess, it was a trap,” Sorey said. “She was a fairy, and she spirited me away then and there to the fairy realm.”

They preyed on Sorey’s kind heart. Mikleo silently fumed, but stroked at his little fluffy breast with a single finger, bidding him to continue.

“It was there I finally met my father. He’s the fairy king, and he said that – he said that, with my thirteenth birthday at hand, they could take me back. Said that the fairy palace was my new home, and its residents my subjects. Said that I would never be allowed to see the human realm again. I begged and pleaded to be taken back to my real home, to my mom and to you, but they wouldn’t hear a single word of it.

“They tried to entice me into staying for days, with exotic food and books, but I didn’t touch any of it. Finally, the fairy king said that I be made to ‘think things over from a new angle’. And then, that fairy magician I saved from the fireplace cursed me into this form. They said they’d only lift the curse when I agree to become the crown prince, and so…”

Sorey extended his wings as demonstration.

“…you can see how well that worked out for them, and me,” Sorey said ruefully. “I couldn’t speak, and they locked me into a golden birdcage in this strange room – I think it shares ventilation with the surrounding rooms, I could hear everything from them echoing in. I heard the king speaking – he’s afraid of an alliance between our kingdoms, Mikleo. He’s afraid of our engagement.

“I stayed in that birdcage for years, Mikleo, singing day and night about how much I missed you. I got my chance for escape one day, when the attendants left a window open before they went to open my cage. I flew out and away, and managed to find my way here…back to you.”

Mikleo extended a crooked finger for him, and Sorey hopped up onto it. Mikleo brought him in to nestle against his neck; Sorey’s silky feathers tickling his skin. Sorey had been through so much. Kidnapped, locked away…and then there was the matter of this curse.

“Your curse,” Mikleo said. “How do we break it?”

Sorey made a thoughtful noise.

“I couldn’t speak before you kissed me,” he said. “Maybe…another one will break it completely?”

Mikleo felt his cheeks burn, but obliged. Sorey’s feathered breast puffed out, and he shivered in glee. He remained, however, a little blue bird.

“Almost broken. I can feel it,” Sorey declared. “Maybe another?”

Mikleo pouted at him, and Sorey tittered that wonderful laugh once more.

“Sorry, sorry. I really don’t know how to break the spell, so it was worth a try. I can at least talk to you properly now.”

Sorey looked around the room; at the piles of books and papers, at the door with dust on its handle. He beaked at Mikleo’s ear lightly.

“You were always the one teasing me for never cleaning my room,” Sorey said. “What’s changed?”

Everything and nothing at all , Mikleo wanted to say. He settled on kissing the fluff atop Sorey’s head again, making Sorey fluff up and titter once more at the attention.

“I missed you, Sorey,” Mikleo murmured. “So much.”

Sorey nuzzled at Mikleo’s finger as it came up to pet him.

“Me too,” Sorey sighed. “I…I came here first. I know I should’ve gone to my mother, and the court mages, but would they have really recognized me? I thought I might be able to convince you first. And I needed to see you again so badly. I sang for you all those years. You’ve gotten so beautiful, Mikleo.”

“And you’ve gotten a little bit easier to handle, for now,” Mikleo replied, trying to will away the redness in his cheeks. “I’ll speak to our court mages and my uncle about the curse. Surely there’s something we can try. For now, I’ll call for an attendant to set something up for you in my room – not a cage, but a perch with--”

“I can’t stay here,” Sorey said mournfully. “I know that the fairy court is trying to hunt me down. If I stay with you tonight, they’re sure to find us both. I’ve been staying in the woods – the woodland spirits bear resentment against the high court, and have been sheltering me…something about the wrong color goose feathers in a pillow, a thousand years ago and some change. They hold grudges over the strangest things, Mikleo.”

“No stranger than human grudges, I’m sure,” Mikleo said. “But please. Stay safe tonight.”

Sorey accepted another kiss atop his head, and gave one to Mikleo’s nose with his beak. Mikleo’s kiss had broken Sorey’s curse of silence. Mikleo wondered what curse of his that Sorey’s kiss had broken.

He opened the door to his room for the first time in months, and walked down the tower stairs to seek out his uncle.

Love was a powerful magic indeed, and unfortunately drew the attention of the wrong individual. Symonne was the very same court magician that Sorey had saved from the iron and salt, and the very same court magician that had cursed him. She was an ancient and powerful fairy, and though the concept of gratitude was not unknown to her, her fanatic loyalty to the fairy king was stronger than any sense of debt. Or pity.

The moment Mikleo’s lips broke a layer of her curse, Symonne had pinpointed Sorey’s location, and spied on their conversation. It would not do for her to charge into the territory of the woodland spirits – she knew her king would be sorely cross with her if she provoked them into an uprising. But that presented an even more delicious opportunity: to make an example of that traitorous prince, so unworthy of the fairy throne, in front of the wretched human for whom he had betrayed her king’s patience and affections.

Symonne laid another curse upon the sill of Mikleo’s tower window.

Mikleo awoke the next morning filled with determination, his thoughts racing with the knowledge he had gleaned from the books his uncle had loaned to him. He had barely gotten any sleep; staying up late into the night making notes. But soon, it would be time for Sorey to make his daily appearance. Mikleo walked over to the window, and opened it up to wait.

The sun glinted off Sorey’s feathers as he approached. Mikleo couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorey--”

Sorey landed on the windowsill, and opened his beak to sing.

A crack of magic split the air, blinding Mikleo with light. Sorey’s voice cut off with an awful sound, and the air filled with the smell of burning feathers. Mikleo shouted for Sorey in panic, still light-blind.

“Sorey! Sorey! ”

Vision returned to him as he blinked, and Mikleo saw that his windowsill was now empty. Gripped with dread, he peered over the side, and was greeted with the sight of a small, unmoving blue blur on the ground far below.

“ Sorey! ”

Mikleo raced down the tower stairs, tripping and stumbling, until he burst out into the garden. There was nothing underneath the window, now – nothing at all but a few scattered blue feathers and streaks of red on the grass. The work of an enterprising palace cat, or marauding falcon, perhaps. Mikleo frantically raced around the gardens, tearing apart the bushes and flower beds for any sign of Sorey.

He had lost Sorey once, and just as he had begun to hope once more, he had lost Sorey again. Mikleo fell to his knees and let tears consume him.

It was neither cat nor falcon that had stolen Sorey away – instead, it was a wandering enchanter, drawn to the scene by the thick scent of dark magic. Zaveid was a clever man; clever enough to know that this bird was not what he seemed, and clever enough to know that he’d gotten in way over his head by snatching him up. He hurtled himself back over the palace wall, and hid himself in the brush. Oh, how curiosity had gotten the better of him once again!

He whispered an enchantment into his cupped palm, and placed the bird’s trembling, bleeding body between his hands to allow the healing magic to do its work. The bird’s trembling eased, and it heaved a sigh of relief from its tiny breast.

“All better, birdie?” Zaveid quipped. “Listen, I dunno what you did to get on the bad side of someone wielding magic like that, but--”

“Run,” Sorey rasped out. “We have to run. Into the woods. Where she can’t follow--”

“Too late,” hissed Symmone.

Symonne was quite incensed at being robbed of the opportunity to plunge a dagger into Sorey’s breast in front of Mikleo, but would settle for finishing the job here. Zaveid’s eyes went huge at the glint of the dagger in her hand, and he fumbled in his coat pocket until his fingers closed around a golden, fairy-winged amulet.

In a flash of light, the three of them were teleported straight to the fairy court. Fairy King Heldalf’s eyes went wide at the scene in front of him.

“Who are you?” he demanded of Zaveid. “And what are you doing with my son?”

Zaveid’s eyebrows raised, and he lifted Sorey to eye level to give him a Look.

“Shoulda known you were trouble,” he grumbled.

“Sorry…” Sorey sheepishly said back.

Still, Zaveid was not one to back down from a challenge. He cleared his throat, and bowed deeply, flourishing his free, non-bird-holding arm wide.

“Your most great and powerful majesty,” Zaveid greeted. “Please forgive my intrusion. I am Zaveid, a wandering enchanter. I was trying to rescue your son from death at the hands of this witch.”

Symonne was shaking with fury. Heldalf stared at her sternly, and bade Zaveid to continue.

“It is quite an accusation, to say that the throne’s greatest magician is guilty of treason.”

Zaveid sighed dramatically.

“I know, your great awesomeness, I know. But just take a whiff of your boy – that blood on him is reeking of your magician’s dark magic. Honestly, just ask him yourself. I’m sure he’ll tell you the whole story.”

Sorey had refused to say a word to his father since he was thirteen, which was incidentally the impetus behind Symonne’s curse of silence. He fluttered onto Zaveid’s shoulder to look straight into his father’s eyes.

“I ran away to seek out a magician to break my curse,” Sorey said. “Symonne followed my tracks, and laid a trap for me. When I landed on a tree to rest after a long flight, her dark magic tore me to pieces and flung me to the earth below. Zaveid saved me, and healed me, and brought us all to the court before she could finish her work.”

“ Liar! ” screamed Symonne. “A traitor and a liar! You ran to the arms of that despicable human that you constantly yowl for in your cage, like a cat in heat--”

“Can’t help but point out that she didn’t deny the whole attempted murder thing, your liegefultude,” Zaveid noted. “And if you’re wondering about how I got us all here, I’ll be happy to spin that tale for you over dinner. You see, I used a magical charm gifted to me as a token by a beautiful fairy maiden, for whom I still hold a burning flame--”

A sharp ahem! interrupted Zaveid’s story. One of the other court magicians in attendance, Lailah, was bright red, and had her cheeks puffed out irritably as she very determinedly refused to look at Zaveid.

King Heldalf rose to his feet, and strode over to stand looming and tall over Zaveid – he passed Symonne as he went, refusing to acknowledge her as she fell to her knees and grasped at the hem of his cloak, sobbing for forgiveness.

“You have our thanks, Zaveid the enchanter,” the king said. “Return the prince, and you may request any reward your heart desires for saving his life.”

Now, this gave Zaveid pause. Sorey looked at him pleadingly with those little birdie eyes, as if begging him to help. Clearly, this prince didn’t really want to be returned, any more than he wanted to remain a bird. Zaveid was nowhere near strong enough to break the curse on him, but…Lailah’s gaze upon him inspired him to be generous. Oh, the things he did for love.

“Not that I mean to intrude on an, uh…family matter,” Zaveid said. “But keepin’ your son here as a bird and – what did I hear your witch say? Locking him in a cage? – none of that is going to help mend whatever bridges are broken between you. After that witch nearly killed him, I think it’s the least you can do to let him stretch his legs again. His people legs.”

The king considered Zaveid’s statement for a long moment, then turned to Sorey.

“Prince Sorey,” he began. “I will return you to your original form for three days, so you are in a better state to consider your duty to the fairy kingdom. If you still refuse after the sun rises on the third day, you will remain a bird forever.”

Without waiting for Sorey’s response, King Heldalf waved his arm, and Zaveid felt the weight on his shoulder grow heavy. Like, real heavy. Heavy like there was a grown-ass teenager sitting on it instead of a little blue bird. Right before Zaveid collapsed to the ground, he saw that he was correct in that assessment. Sorey was quite unlike his bird self – tall, with a broad chest and shoulders and chocolate-brown hair. He looked down at his now-human hands, and his green eyes gleamed with newfound hope. Damn, Zaveid thought. Whoever that human was that Sorey was stealing off to go meet was one lucky dog.

“Escort the prince to his chambers,” said the king to the gathered fairy attendants. “And prepare a room and meal for our guest. We will not be derelict in hospitality.”

A fleet of attendants and guards surrounded Sorey, and he went along with them, though reluctantly. Two brightly-colored fairy attendants approached Zaveid, and he winked at both of them, sending them fluttering and tittering ahead of him. He glanced over his shoulder, and blew a kiss to where Lailah stood – Lailah mimed catching it, and then set her hand on fire. Zaveid clutched at his heart and sighed dreamily. To have his heart crushed by such a beauty was an exquisite kind of agony.

With Sorey and Zaveid both escorted from the throne room, Lailah respectfully curtsied to the king as he approached. Symonne continued to weep and grovel on the ground, inconsolable.

“Your majesty,” Lailah began. “Surely you know that the prince will not agree to those terms.”

The king sank back into his throne, and drummed his fingers on the arm.

“Pray tell, Lailah, what would you consider my alternative options?” he asked. “Allow him to live out a short human life, dying just as quickly as the beasts of the forest? Allow him to return to his mother, allow him to marry that human prince, allow their kingdoms to ally and rise up to destroy us?”

Lailah sighed, and looked away. “But surely you do not truly mean to curse the prince forever…”

“No,” Heldalf admitted. “Simply until that human he is fixated on dies. It will be quick, if he stays here – human lifetimes pass in the blink of an eye.”

First, the king imprisoned his own son in a golden cage for years, and now he was planning to do it once more if Sorey did not comply and promise to never again be with the one his heart truly loved. All out of a wild paranoia, and greed for his son’s undivided attention. Lailah could no longer tolerate her king’s behavior. Something had to be done, and there was one surefire way to do it:

The power of love.

That night, Lailah looked herself over in the mirror critically – did she look the part of a beatific fairy godmother? Oh heavens, it had been an age since she’d last played the role. There was no time to find pumpkins or practice a musical number. She could only hope Sorey’s beloved would rise to the occasion.

For his part, Mikleo was hardly in a state to rise to anything. The awful sound of Sorey’s dying scream echoed in his brain, and the smell of his scorched feathers refused to leave his senses. It was surely the work of that loathsome fae court: unable to force Sorey’s cooperation, they had killed him for the offense. They had taken Sorey from him twice, now. Grief and fury battled each other in his mind, seeing who would triumph and be allowed to consume Mikleo whole.

Mikleo had not moved from the chair he had collapsed into after dragging himself back up to his tower from the gardens. He had not drawn the curtains, he had not lit a candle – and with the fall of night, the room was painted with twilight.

A little spot of light flickered to life, throwing golden color on Mikleo’s cheek. Mikleo slowly turned to look. A candle on his desk was alight, and its dancing flame reflected in Mikleo’s eyes. It seemed to twirl around itself, looking down as if it was a lady lifting up her skirts to spot the best place to put her feet on a staircase. The little flame then hopped off the candle, then leapt off the edge of the desk –

– and became a tall woman in a red-and-white lace gown. Fairy wings extended from her back.

Had they come to kill him as well? Perhaps he should just allow it. He would make an even poorer king now, with a heart filled with sorrow and hatred.

“Prince Mikleo, beloved of Prince Sorey,” the woman began. She curtsied deeply. “I am Lailah, a magician. Please, I come to beg your aid, on behalf of my people.”

Mikleo stared at her in silence, his face a cold, expressionless mask.

“To think you have the right to speak his name – that is very audacious of you,” Mikleo said. He rose from his chair. “I wonder, was my fireplace not to your liking as an entryway, as Sorey’s was?”

Lailah curtsied deeper, and shook her head.

“Prince Mikleo, though you may not believe my words, I swear that it was not I who kidnapped Prince Sorey those five years ago, nor was it I who cursed him, nor was it I who wounded him this morning,” Lailah said. “He is alive and well, and was returned to our palace. The king has returned him to human form for three days, to force him to embrace his role as the fairy prince. If he refuses, he will remain a bird forevermore.”

Mikleo was speechless, his mind working to process what he had been told. The idea of Sorey still being alive – it was too good to be true. What was more, this woman was a fairy. How could he trust a single word she spoke?

“You do not believe me,” Lailah observed. She gestured with one arm to the top drawer of Mikleo’s desk. “In your desk is an iron letter-opener. Place it against my skin and command me to speak the truth through my agony. I swear to you that I shall not contradict myself.”

Lailah paused, then smiled.

“Or you could simply plunge the letter-opener into my chest, and be done with it,” she granted. Mikleo’s eyes went wide. “But your heart is pure and kind, just like Sorey’s. I can tell the thought of it did not once cross your mind.”

It had not. Mikleo sank back into his chair, more than a little overwhelmed.

“What would you have me do to save him?” Mikleo asked.

Lailah clapped delightedly. “Oh, splendid! You are already in a heroic state of mind,” she said. “That will make this so much more straightforward. Hoot have thought this would have been so easy?”

Lailah stared at him expectantly for a very, very long moment. Mikleo felt deeply uncomfortable.

“… hoot have thought? Hoot ?” Lailah prompted him again. “You see, Prince Sorey was a bird for many years, and owls say hoot-- ”

“Yes,” Mikleo interrupted before this got even more unbearable to listen to. “Yes, I understand.”

“Hmm.” Lailah paused, then snorted an undignified laugh into her voluminous sleeve. “—SNNNNRT! HOOT!”

“Lady Lailah,” Mikleo said flatly. “You were speaking of heroics?”

Lailah managed to gather herself, with effort. “Oh. Yes.”

With a wave of her arm, she summoned three ivory eggs; each the size of a goose’s.

“Please forgive me, for I am unable to take you directly to the palace,” she said mournfully. “My magic was…borrowed to transport Prince Sorey and several others from the dangerous situation he found himself in, and it will take time for it to regenerate. And time is a thing that we do not have. However, I can give you three gifts to lead you on your quest.”

One of the eggs began to glow, and when its light faded, a small, odd-looking little creature was in its place.

“Pleased to meetcha! The name’s Atakk, a normin,” said the creature. He extended a paw. “Put ‘er there!”

“Mikleo, this is Atakk. He will guide you,” Lailah explained, and tried to move on to the next egg. “As for the topic of transport--”

“Is that it!?” Atakk squawked despairingly. “Lady Lailah, you’re embarrassing me! I’m standing in front of such a beautiful creature, so you gotta talk me up a little bit to him--”

“Atakk will guide you marginally well,” Lailah expanded on her statement. “Now, as for the topic of transport…”

The second egg glowed and expanded into a beautiful grand chariot, drawn by six more normins who grumbled and griped and adjusted their harnesses. Atakk beckoned for him to give him his hand.

“Please, allow me to lead you to your seat, mon cher ,” Atakk said suavely. “I will serenade you on our journey to make your heart feel light. Do you prefer the pan-flute or the dulcimer?”

“The trip will not be long, with the normins leading the chariot,” Lailah promised. With that, she handed the final egg to Mikleo. “This egg will guarantee your escape from the palace, when you have rescued Sorey. Please, do not allow it to hatch before then, lest you be trapped in our realm forever.”

Mikleo took the egg, then looked Lailah up and down.

“…why are you helping us?” Mikleo asked. “Sorey and I.”

Lailah sighed and folded her hands.

“Our king is…a lonely man. He once fell in love with a human princess, and had a child with her – however, she would not abandon her kingdom to live with our king in our realm. She fled with the child, and our king has never been in his right mind since. He has become wholly convinced that the human kingdoms will rise up against us any day now, and kidnapped Sorey laboring under that paranoia – he thinks your marriage to Sorey, your kingdoms’ alliance, would sound the death knell for our own realm. He seeks to force Sorey to love him as his father through cruel means…he does not appear to properly understand that Sorey will only resent him more and more. I cannot bear to stand by and watch this continue.”

Mikleo nodded. He and Sorey had overheard strange snippets of discussion, when they were children eavesdropping on meetings, that had never quite made sense until now…Mikleo walked to his dressing-cabinets, and stripped down to dress himself in an outfit more suited to a diplomatic engagement. Lailah gasped and bent to cover Atakk’s eyes.

“I will not allow it to continue,” Mikleo said. To finish, he picked up his circlet – the symbol of his birthright – from its locked velvet case and slid it on. “I will speak to him as the king-to-be of my nation, and demand Sorey’s return.”

“I pray for your success,” Lailah said solemnly. “You are our last hope.”

Lailah spoke true – the normin chariot sped across the skies and over the forests and mountains, bringing them far from Mikleo’s kingdom. It would take days, weeks to make the trip on foot…Mikleo’s heart ached at the thought of Sorey making this trip as a bird, just for a chance to see Mikleo again.

The chariot arrived at the fairy palace at dawn – Mikleo had so little time left to save Sorey, and that worry clouded his mind to the point that he spared little wonder at the sight of the glittering jeweled spires, the giant blossoms, the lakes and rivers made of…chocolate syrup? Perhaps he spared a bit of wonder at that. He expected the normins to drop him off at the palace entrance, but they charged on full-tilt past the palace gates, whooping and cheering as they sent guards flying left and right. They raced through the halls, knocking into statues and pottery and other priceless pieces of fine art.

“Slow down, you philistines!” wailed Atakk. “That was a Terca Lumereis original!”

“Emphasis on ‘was’!” yelled back one of the normin.

Atakk’s tears soaked Mikleo’s shirt as he buried his face in his chest to weep.

Finally, the wild rush came to a sudden stop. They had arrived in the throne room, and, judging from the stares of the gathered court members, they were quite unexpected. Atakk stumbled to his feet, and produced a horn from thin air – he blew it loud, even through his tears, to announce their arrival. Mikleo squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and stepped out of the chariot with all the grace and presence his mother and tutors had tried to instill in him over the years. He willed his hands and voice to not shake.

“I am Mikleo, of House Rulay,” he said, loud and clear. “I am the king-to-be of the kingdom of Camlann. I seek the hand of the fairy crown prince in marriage.”

The court gasped and tittered, and looked to the throne for their king’s reaction. Mikleo saw that he was a large, imposing man; with a voluminous fur cloak whose high collar made him resemble a lion. The king’s eyes narrowed.

“How did a human enter our realm undetected?” Heldalf wondered aloud.

“That seems like a personal failin’ of your guards,” said one of the chariot normin. “We didn’t even try to be sneaky.”

Atakk wailed hysterically in the chariot, cuddling a large piece of shattered pottery. Heldalf rose an eyebrow at the normins, and then turned to Lailah; who stood beside the throne with a carefully blank expression.

“It seems your magic has brought yet more visitors ,” Heldalf said. “Do tell me that another of my magicians has not betrayed me.”

Lailah curtsied deeply in apology. “My king, I have placed my magic in many artifacts over the centuries, as gifts to those who have served us. Surely some of them have simply fallen into the wrong hands.”

“King of the Fairies, do you mean to ignore your esteemed guest?” Mikleo asked. He would not allow Lailah to be punished for helping him. “After all the questing I went through to obtain this magical chariot, you could stand to offer me a room, and entertain my request for your son’s hand. Surely as the rulers of two prosperous kingdoms, we could come to a mutually-beneficial arrangement.”

Mikleo knew that he had hit upon a sticking point – even fairies were bound by the rules of hospitality. The king stood, and gestured with his hand to some of his fairy attendants.

“We welcome you as our esteemed guest,” he said. “But know this: humans cannot survive long in our realm. You will be safe if you do not leave the room we prepare for you. Should you venture from it, you will be transformed into a beast. And I have my doubts that your people will accept a beast as their king.”

“A beastly nature will not affect my devotion to my people, nor my devotion to your son,” Mikleo swore. “Please, take me to him so I may make an offer of marriage in person.”

“The prince is sleeping in his chambers, resting due to his injuries,” Heldalf said. “He will awaken…in a few days, perhaps. Until then, you may wait in your guest chambers for him. Practice your poetry.”

A few days. Mikleo bristled in fury. In a few days, Sorey would be a bird again. He could not risk calling the king’s bluff without endangering Lailah. He could not rush to Sorey’s chambers and break the doors down – he could already feel the magic of the fairy realm clouding his brain and making his limbs heavy and odd. Fairy attendants and guards surrounded him, and rounded up the normins – he was on his own as they escorted him to his guest chambers. The weight of the final egg in his pocket was small comfort as he was locked into his guest room.

Mikleo did not spend long bemoaning his fate, for as he looked around the room for something, anything to help him rescue Sorey, he came upon an ornately-designed vent shaft. It was securely bolted shut, but his mind was not on the prospect of escape. Seeing the vent caused him to recall a piece of information that Sorey had mentioned on his windowsill visit: that Sorey’s chambers were connected via these shafts to the surrounding rooms, and that he could hear anything that occurred within them.

Sorey had sung for him, day and night, for five years. Mikleo could surely manage the same for two nights.

Mikleo cleared his throat, and began to hum; a halting, shy tune. Slowly, he grew more confident, more desperate – he allowed himself to write embarrassing lyrics that he would have scoffed at only a few short days ago. He called for Sorey, told him of how he’d longed for him, told him of the sorrow that threatened to drown him when he was convinced of Sorey’s death. He sang of the future he hoped for: not only of grand adventures and travel, but also of days by his side, of suffering through boring court meetings on the promise of a kiss after their conclusion, of evenings taking dinner together over their favorite books, of nights tangled up together in their shared bed.

He sang and sang until his throat was raw, and sang some more – the sun set and rose again, and Sorey had still not called back to him, had still not broken down the door. Mikleo took a moment to catch his breath, and wipe away the frustrated tears that streaked his cheeks. He had but one day more, and then Sorey would be a bird forever – if it came to it, perhaps he’d simply walk the fairy palace halls until he became a beast as well, to live by his side. A pair of lovebirds, matched in the same cage, singing day and night.

“Hey. Hey! Prince!”

Mikleo frowned and looked around for the source of the familiar voice.

“Over here!”

Atakk was peeping through the slot in the door that attendants used to slide Mikleo meals – which he had not touched, out of concern for what was in them.

“You’ve been usin’ the vent system to try and talk to Sorey, haven’t you?” Atakk asked. “Any luck?”

“No,” Mikleo said hoarsely, rubbing his throat. He needed to save his voice for another day of work. “No response.”

Atakk hummed thoughtfully, and tapped his chin.

“I’ve been in that room before – those vents echo the sounds loud and clear. He should’ve heard you even if he was sleeping, and woken up…somethin’ fishy is going on. I’m gonna snoop around and get some info for you. Lady Lailah assigned me as your guide, and I ain’t done guiding yet.”

“Thank you,” Mikleo managed to say before his throat throbbed in pain.

Atakk made a kissy face. “Anything for a princely beauty like yourself! It’s so romantic of me, sacrificing my own happiness to bring you closer to another man…!”

Atakk bounced away excitedly, talking to himself of how he’d have to write these verses down before he forgot them. Mikleo shook his head, and stumbled back to the vents on sleepless legs to resume his vigil.

It wasn’t until the sun had nearly set again that Atakk returned – however, this time he was not alone. Three fairy attendants opened the door, and entered Mikleo’s chambers in a line. Atakk gestured to them with a flourish.

“Ta-da!” he said. “These are Prince Sorey’s attendants!”

“…and?” Mikleo said, not able to manage more than one-word sentences.

“And they got the scoop on why Sorey isn’t hearing your little lovelorn sonata!” Atakk said. “…or so they told me.”

The eldest attendant stepped forward.

“We were instructed by the king and the royal doctor to drug the prince’s food and drink to keep him in a deep sleep,” she stated. “His injuries from Lady Symonne were grave, and Zaveid’s magics only served to stabilize him temporarily.”

The two younger attendants giggled at the mention of this “Zaveid”, and the eldest turned to glare at them. They shushed, but continued to whisper in each other’s ears. The eldest shook her head, and continued.

“I do not see why I should go against such esteemed directions to allow the prince to hear your constant caterwauling,” the eldest said. “It will only upset him.”

“The spell,” Mikleo rasped out. “He’ll be a bird. When the sun rises, forever.”

“The king does not mean to truly curse the prince forever,” stated the eldest. “Simply until you and his other human attachments are nothing but dust and distant memory. He will live a long and blissful life here, free from disease and age. You mean to steal him away from us and curse him to a short, desperate, mortal existence.”

Mikleo bowed his head, and put a hand to his aching throat. It seemed so selfish. Perhaps it would truly be best for Sorey that he left, that he allowed himself to fade into memory. But it was Atakk that broke the awful silence.

“That’s all well and good for you to make that decision for the prince then, eh?” he challenged. “Tell me again, ‘cause I forget; have you ever asked Sorey’s opinion on all of this? Seems like it’d be important.”

The eldest attendant glowered at Atakk. Atakk mimed a thinking pose.

“Let me think. Seems like I remember something…oh, right, I remember that terrified little thirteen-year-old that we stole from his family, and then we turned him into a bird and locked him in a cage for five years when he kept begging to go home. Yes, you’re sooooo concerned for his welfare, I can tell.”

Atakk slapped Mikleo on the back, and puffed out his chest.

“But do you know who here is concerned for Sorey? This fella right here. He’ll go on singing and singing until he turns into a bird himself, if he thought there was the slightest chance Sorey would wake up and hear him.”

“I heard his song while tending to the prince,” said one of the younger attendants, fighting back tears. “His feelings for the prince are true.”

“I could barely finish my dusting without weeping from the beauty of it,” said the other young attendant, who was fully wailing. “Madam, we know you heard it as well!”

The eldest attendant’s eyes softened, and her mouth drew into a thin line.

“…the prince dreams of you,” she said quietly. “He speaks your name. I was his mother’s midwife, you know. He was a kind, sweet boy to us over the years, even as we served as his jailers. It pains me to be the cause of yet more grief.”

She turned to leave, gesturing for her bawling younger attendants to join her.

“The prince’s sleeping draught will wear off at midnight,” she stated. “And I might dally in refreshing it. See to it that your song is true.”

As they left, Mikleo managed to smile at Atakk as his tears flowed anew. “Thank you.”

Atakk strutted over and picked up Mikleo’s hand to press a loud, smacking kiss to the knuckles. “It’s all in a day’s work for a tragic romantic hero, mon cher . Now rest up those pipes for a few hours so you can really knock Sorey’s socks off.”

Mikleo did as suggested – his throat was so sore and weak that he could barely swallow the water that Atakk brought to him (with the promise that it was not enchanted). Even knowing that there was no chance for Sorey to hear him, Mikleo was possessed of a nervous compulsion to take a seat back by the vents and continue to hum aimlessly – if Sorey could not hear him properly, Mikleo could still provide some comfort in his dreams.

The clocks chimed midnight, and Mikleo opened his mouth to sing once more. He barely managed to get to the part about kisses after court before he heard Sorey screaming and pounding on every door in the hall outside.

“Mikleo! Mikleo! ”

Mikleo raced to the locked door and began to pound on it himself, and to scream Sorey’s name through his raw, battered throat.

“I’m right here, Sorey! Right here!”

The doors were flung open.

Logically, Mikleo knew that Sorey would not look like his thirteen-year-old self all these years later. But Mikleo did not expect Sorey to be this stunning. Tall, with a sharp jawline and broad shoulders. Strong arms that wrapped around Mikleo so tightly, and brought him close against his chest to feel the beating of his racing heart. Those same green eyes that Mikleo remembered, clear as day.

“Mikleo…” Sorey sobbed over and over, rocking in place with Mikleo. Belatedly, Mikleo realized that they’d collapsed to the floor at some point.

“Sorey,” Mikleo whispered into his ear. “I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage. Do you accept?”

Sorey kissed him then and there. Mikleo let his eyes fall shut and kissed back, winding his fingers into Sorey’s hair.

“…well, I think that settles that, don’t you, your majesticness?”

Sorey’s arms tightened around him at the sound of that voice, and he broke off their kiss to glare at the approach of his father. A strangely-dressed man with dark skin and white tattoos wolf-whistled at them.

“Hey there. I’m Zaveid, your neighbor,” said the man, gesturing to the guest room next to Mikleo’s. “You kept me up all night with your singing, yanno.”

Mikleo spied Lailah sneaking out of Zaveid’s guest room. He elected to say nothing. Heldalf gazed at Sorey with deep sorrow in his eyes, and heaved a heavy sigh.

“…I suppose it does,” he said with an air of finality. “Sorey. I tried to force your mother to stay here with me, and I failed to learn from her flight, and her distance. Please live your life as you wish.”

The king turned, and made to leave. Sorey and Mikleo’s eyes met. Mikleo took Sorey’s hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze. Whatever his decision, Mikleo would stand by his side.

“…will you attend our wedding, father?”

Heldalf stiffened at that word, then bowed his head, his shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly. Perhaps it was a word he’d never heard before.

Upon their return home, their wedding preparations proceeded in a whirlwind haste. Tearful reunions took place alongside flower selections and dress-uniform measurements, and Sorey barely had the time to accept the embraces offered between samples of wedding cake – though he always managed to make the time to excuse himself for a kiss or two from Mikleo. (Or for a quick sojourn with Mikleo to a secluded room with a lock.)

The ceremony was attended by those from kingdoms far and near – citizens and nobility, woodland spirits and fairy court members alike. King Heldalf gave his blessings to the union, and gifted them with a splendid spread of wedding gifts: among them, a marvelous stringed instrument that played by itself and sounded like a thousand instruments at once, a pair of magical mirrors that permitted instant communication between two individuals, and an enchanted brooch, similar to Zaveid’s, that allowed instant transport to the fairy realm.

“Speaking of gifts,” Sorey said during the reception, as he kissed at Mikleo’s knuckles. “What was in that third egg that Lailah gave you?”

Mikleo blinked – it was still in his robes from their adventure. He requested an attendant fetch it for them, and made to open it.

It cracked open in a glorious light, and when the light faded, there stood a normin dressed in an exotic flamenco gown. It fluttered its fan in its heavily-made-up face, and spoke in a strangely deep voice.

“Dance with me! Cast off your monarchical chains and dance the dance of revolution!”

Mikleo rose an eyebrow, and looked over where Lailah was engaging in a drinking contest with members of the royal court. The normin heaved a sigh, and gathered up his skirts to stomp off onto the ballroom floor.

Fairy culture was a bit beyond Mikleo, as of the moment. But he was willing to learn – after all, alliances didn’t spring up overnight.

#sormik #soremiku #suremiku #soymilk #sorey/mikleo #tales of zestiria #i guess this is my personal tales of zestiria tag now #a tenderly crafted fanfiction #chocomint-srmk #chocomint fairy tale compilation #chocomint

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codeadleaves · 5 years

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Happy fourth @tozanniversary !

My contribution for today’s prompt will follow later, for the moment here’s my answers to the ask game.

How did you get into ToZ?

Exactly on the first day of 2015 because of this gif set.

Truth be told, I’m not a tales fan, I had only played Symphonia on gamecube (which is one of my favorite game btw) but had no interest for the rest of the franchise, and Zestiria didn’t make exception despite the few pictures I had stumbled upon while the game was still in development. Actually those pictures made me think it would be a generic jrpg with a dumb protagonist and an awful love triangle, there was absolutely no appeal there xD I coudn’t be more wrong.

And then I saw the gif set. The boys aesthetic was pleasing to look at so I watched the full oav, then I read about the game and then I learned there was dragons in it and everything was lost.

I’ve been living into the zesty pit ever since, and there’s no way out. Not that I want one, it’s all nice and comfy down here.

Favourite character to PLAY as?

Sorey, because he's the easiest to play with. Sometimes I switch for Lailah cause her fighting style is pretty, and I played the whole Alisha dlc as Rose.

Favourite location in the game?

Elysia, Lastonbell, Airfread's hunting grounds, Cambria caverns, all 4 elemental trial shrines.

Favourite party setup?

Sorey-Mikleo, Rose-Lailah, because though I adore the whole party those four are my faves. I tend to switch seraph whenever it feels appropriate though, like pairing Sorey with the seraph corresponding to the trial shrine.

Personal grade record?

Don’t be fooled, this is all because the NG+ grade shop makes chaos mode super easy to go through. I normally suck at video games, I can never dodge or guard to save my life so instead I went completey crazy on the equipment, like this no boss can resist me. Even the game called me out on it:

And trophy %?

100! Once again I’m not that good at games, but I love Zestiria so much I couldn’t get enough and needed to reach the 100%. Although it was only possible thanks to the lack of minigames from hell.

Favourite/most used armatus? EXCEPT water, we all know you’re gonna pick that.

WATER Favorite to play with after it is Fire, but though Wind is annoying to fight with, it's good looking with the blade wings and most importantly the artes mystic is really effective to farm equipment xD Before I started with the farming the order for most used was Water, Fire, Earth and Wind.

Favourite attachment?

Dezel isn't happy Zaveid took his place.

Favourite costumes for each character?

The delfaut ones + Alisha’s dlc outfit (though I wish she had pants instead of a mini skirt). Sometimes I switch for the school set so it looks like a school expedition gone wrong xD Here's a picture of Lailah just because.

Favourite boss fight?

Don't think I have one? Like I say I'm not really good at games, so I just wait for the party to finish talking and destroy everything as fast as possible. But I guess Tiamat and Eizen where nice with the music (no I didn’t enjoyed killing dragons, killing dragons is heartbreaking, even more in zesty) and beating up Landon and Lunarre was satisfying.

Do you run into enemies so you can windstep? Come on, you can admit it

Who doesn’t? The best combination is to run in circle while eavesdropping on townsfolks and keep it going by slaughtering everything on the way. It's rather funny to look at Sorey running at full speed, even more when paired with the lord of the land blessing that increase the speed.

How do you prefer to play? (eg “on the sofa with chocolate bars in my mouth and a cat in my lap”)

This description sounds like the ideal way to play video games, unfortunatly my cat is way too distracting, between the random moment like “I’m gonna stand in the corner and meow until mom gives me full attention” and “let’s lie next to mom in the most ridiculous position ever so she will be too busy laughing and will lose her fight”, the best moment to play a game is to wait for him to be sound asleep, preferably with a safe distance between us so my eyes and hands don’t drift toward his soft looking fur… Add a nice cup of tea and it’s perfect.

Who or what is most fun to draw/write if you’re a creator?

I'm possesed by the spirit of Numin. She hijacks all my fics...

Anything you wish we could have learned more about?

Before Berseria I would have said Zaveid. Now I would love to learn about the ancient times, siegfried, the original Lady of the Lake, the first shepherd, stuff like that... A prequel to Berseria could be nice though I’m not sure I would trust bamco on this...

The game’s theme is “passion”. What part of the game are you most passionate about?

Very hard question. The characters. The story. The themes aborded. The Music. The aesthetic. The fact Natalie is looking toward the place Mason was killed. The cat on Sindra’s back. The dog that you all better have not let Lunarre kill. Everything. Here’s the game’s thoughts on the matter:

I’m very passionate about the whole game and will defend it against every injustified bashing I come across. …well, even against some justified stuff sometimes xD. Same goes with characters bashing, Zestiria is one of those rare game where I love every single party members, and hearing stuff like “Rose is a mary sue it’s impossible for her to be a killer and still be pure that’s shitty writing” make me lose it like have you even played the game ffs??

Free prompt: just talk about your personal ties to the game, go go

#tozanniversary #just remembered I still had the answers in the drafts #though I had previously answered a few #oh well at least like this I'm sure to post something today #cause I won't be back home for a while and I want to rewrite today's drable #and I'm not sure i will have the strenght for it tonight #I'm so unreliable orz #shut up cody

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randomactuallywrites-57 · 6 years

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A Moment

Title: A Moment Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 3,055 Event + Prompt: @sormikweek day one - Joy/Sadness (Rain) Notes: i can't believe it's already sormikweek again! it's been a whole year since i posted my first toz fic. honestly, i can't believe it. anyway, this one came from watching too much Say Yes to the Dress with my mum. enjoy!

Summary: Sorey has been waiting for the right moment. The weather doesn't feel like co-operating with him.

Also on: AO3

Sorey has been thinking about this for a long time.

Maybe it’s only because he’s prone to over-thinking, but he feels as though every detail needs to be perfect. With his friends giving him “advice” on how best to go through with this, too, he keeps coming up with new ways in which this might be entirely messed up. If he could ask Mikleo, this would surely go exactly to plan.

Except that’s the point: he can’t ask Mikleo.

Mikleo is the one he’s proposing to, after all.

Sorey is trying to keep it on the down-low. No big parties, no fireworks, no extravagant professions of love in the form of Asgardian sonnets. It’ll only be him and Mikleo, alone together, and a moment. Hopefully the right moment.

Sorey doesn’t know what he’ll do if it isn’t the right moment.

He and Mikleo have waited long enough, in his opinion, to make things official. In the words of Rose, they’ve practically been married since birth, but it would be nice to be able to tell people they are married. Having a “lover”, he’s found, has connotations of the relationship being a temporary one. With marriage, there’s an assumption that the couple will stay together, through thick and thin, for the rest of their lives.

(Of course, that’s not always how it works. It would be much simpler if his view of marriage was one shared by the world, but the world is complicated. In any case, it’s the sentiment that matters most. Mikleo will appreciate that.)

Besides he’s done his research. In his youth, he read every book in Elysia and coerced every piece of information from the Encyclopaedia of Gramps. Now a young adult, all he wants is to spend the rest of his life at Mikleo’s side, no matter what.

A wedding, rings, vows - once he asks the question, it will be real. Part of him can’t wait, despite himself.

He prepares in advance. He takes Lailah and Rose to help him pick out a ring, the former because she’s known them the longest, and the latter because she has a good eye for quality. After a long day of trawling through every jewellery shop in Ladylake, Sorey is ready to suggest they leave it for the day when he sees it: a beautiful gold band inlaid with sapphires, the gold swirling around the gem to highlight it. The ring is subtle, elegant and refined, perfect for a man who fits the same description.

It rests in a white box at the bottom of his bedside drawer, underneath all the stuff Mikleo has no need to go through, burning a hole in his consciousness.

He’s already decided where he’ll do it, too: near the Mt Mabinogio Ruins in Elysia, where the sky expands endlessly and they both treasure memories of their lives up until now. The excuse will be that they’re visiting Gramps. Since they live in Ladylake now, they don’t see him as often as they once did. Gramps is in on it, and he’s promised not to interfere.

They’ll go out to the cliffside, watching the sun slowly set, and Sorey will turn to Mikleo.

Then he’ll do it.

At that point, all he can hope is that Mikleo wants the same thing he does: a life spent at each other’s sides, with matching titles to prove their love. Of course, he can’t help the shred of doubt in his head, making him wonder if Mikleo would want such commitment in his life.

Well, he’s going to find out eventually. He’s not going to leave it any longer.

Taking a deep breath, Sorey goes to ask Mikleo if he wants to visit Gramps.

Elysia doesn’t change much over the course of a year. Most of the time it’s beautifully sunny, with a calm breeze and a cooler climate than the cities beneath the mountains. They don’t get much snow in winter, and the heat isn’t excessive in summer. It’s a place of moderation and peace. Sorey couldn’t be happier to be back.

Except, when they arrive in Elysia, dark grey clouds fill the summer skies. Mikleo groans, his hands clenching the steering wheel of their shared car.

(Gramps got it for them, before they left for university. Sorey’s surprised it’s even lasted this long. Then again, he can only thank Zaveid for his help repairing it every time it breaks.)

“A summer storm?” Mikleo says. “In Elysia?”

“It’s unexpected, that’s for sure,” Sorey says, his hopes fading.

Mikleo pulls up outside Gramps’ house, and they head inside with their luggage, greeting Gramps at the door.

“I’ll take the luggage through to our room,” Mikleo says, taking their shared suitcase from Sorey and dragging it out of sight.

Gramps turns to Sorey. “When do you plan on asking him?”

Sorey bites his lip. With the weather like this, both he and Gramps know it won’t be any time soon. “When the rain lets up,” he says, though he’s not sure when the rain will even begin to fall.

Mikleo returns before Gramps has the chance to reply.

They enjoy a delicious meal together, catching up on the time that has passed since they last saw each other properly. Despite Sorey’s original plans being delayed, he can’t deny that it’s nice even just seeing and talking to Gramps again. That’s half the reason he’d wanted to do this in Elysia. This town is filled with memories and people they treasure. Getting to see them again is like killing two birds with one stone.

But even later, once they all head to bed, he can’t erase his worries from his mind. He sits on the edge of the bed nearest to the window, gazing out into the dark grey sky as Mikleo changes into his nightclothes behind him. Outside, the trees shake with the wind, bent over with the force of trying to stand against it. They seem a lot more tenacious than he feels, right now.

“Sorey.”

He turns to see Mikleo at the other side of the bed. Mikleo’s gaze does not waver, made harder than usual by concern.

Pulling his lips into a strained smile, Sorey says, “What’s up?”

Mikleo, of course, cannot be fooled by Sorey trying to act natural. “That’s what I should be asking you. There’s been something on your mind since we got here.”

There’s no getting out of this one. Sorey swallows a lump in his throat, then shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I’m just worried about the storm, is all.”

For a moment, Mikleo stands his ground, but he soon softens. His voice gains a teasing tone. “What, are you scared?”

“Huh? No way!” Sorey laughs. “Although, if you want to hold my hand to keep me safe, I wouldn’t say no.”

The Mikleo of a few years ago, back when they were awkward teens with less experience in the romance department, would have blushed and stuttered in a way that Sorey always found hilariously adorable. Nowadays, the gorgeous laugh he gives is far more satisfying.

Instead of holding his hand, Mikleo moves to sit on the bed, cupping his cheek to pull him in for a long, slow kiss. Now when his heart beats faster, it definitely isn’t a bad feeling.

“Seriously though,” Mikleo says when they part. “If there’s something up, you can tell me.”

“I know.” Sorey presses his forehead against Mikleo’s. Somewhere along the line, his hand has become caught in Mikleo’s hair, and he strokes through it, happy to find it loose from its usual high ponytail. “I’m just worried in case something happens, like if someone’s roof caves in, or if there’s a rock slide. It’s nothing.”

Mikleo lets out an exasperated puff of breath. “That won’t happen. Even if it turns out to be a big storm, everyone will be okay.”

As Mikleo pulls him in for another kiss, all Sorey can hope is that he is right.

Unfortunately, as it turns out, that quote about ‘the best laid plans’ turns out to be entirely right. Over the next couple of days, the ring burns a hole in his pocket as the rain continues to fall, grey clouds continuing their descent over the village. In addition, they’re both swept away by so many commitments that Sorey hardly sees Mikleo during those days. The only times they see each other are the evenings, when they sit down for dinner together with Gramps and fall asleep, exhausted, in each other’s arms.

With their visit only being planned as a week-long event, when five days pass with no action on Sorey’s part, he can’t help feeling like he’s running out of time. If he doesn’t find the time to ask Mikleo soon, he’s not sure he’ll ever work up the courage. The one thing he doesn’t want is for him to let this opportunity slip out of his grasp.

Perhaps that’s why he can’t sleep on the fifth evening. After tossing and turning for a while, he heads out into the night, alone. A cold wind bites at his skin, but it’s refreshing after the heat of his stressful thoughts. Besides, there’s no point in going back to get a jacket; the skies, though they still hold dark clouds, don’t look ready to rain down upon him just yet. If he can have a few minutes just to think this through and to make a new plan, maybe tomorrow he’ll have the courage to take Mikleo to one side and finally make his move.

The cliffside near the ruins is silent when he gets there. Not a soul is in sight, which allows him to relax for a while. Though he can’t see the vast expanse of stars, it feels nostalgic to come back here, knowing how many times he stood here with Mikleo throughout their childhood and adolescence.

A smile forms without thought on his lips at the memory of those times. He remembers lying with Mikleo on this cliff, cloud-gazing and dreaming of the huge world which lay outside their home village. Once, when they were twelve, they spent a night here with their favourite book, debating about the ruins nearby until their eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.

When they were fifteen, they’d shared their first kiss here, at the break of dawn. Mikleo had woken up earlier than usual, and Sorey also woke up, hearing him leave. He followed him here and joined him, and their tiredness made their emotions flow easily, breaking through the barriers of worry they’d unknowingly built.

Sorey lets out a long breath, closing his eyes as the wind envelops him, comforting him. It reminds him that everything will be alright, in the end. All he has to do is find that courage that brought him together with Mikleo in the first place and use it to take their relationship forward.

“You’re up late.”

The sudden sound of Mikleo’s voice surprises him. He turns around sharply, noticing his boyfriend standing a few feet away, his long hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Though he’s wearing his pyjamas, the jacket he wears over the top of them is far more sensible than the one Sorey left back at the house before heading out. Judging by the goose bumps forming on his arms, maybe he should have brought it after all.

“Mikleo,” he says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“When you sleep next to someone for as long as we have, you tend to notice when the other person disappears,” Mikleo says with a shrug. “What’s wrong?”

Mikleo has always been far too perceptive of Sorey’s emotions. Though it’s part of what has made their relationship work for so long, he can’t help but feel a little silly that this situation has occurred.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says. It’s not technically a lie, so it rolls off his tongue easily. “I thought the fresh air might help.”

“If all you needed was fresh air, you didn’t need to come all the way out here,” Mikleo points out.

“But you knew I’d be here,” Sorey says.

For a moment, Mikleo pauses. Letting his eyes fall, he says, “I just had a feeling, that’s all.”

With a rush of affection for his partner, Sorey heads over to stand by Mikleo, letting his hands fall on his waist. He touches their foreheads together, and their noses brush, cool against each other’s skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be able to sleep better now.”

Mikleo smirks. “You might, yeah. But if you start grinding your teeth, you’ll be giving me a hard time.”

“Hey! There are plenty of better ways to give you a hard time.”

“Like what?”

A moment after asking the question, Mikleo seems to realise that it was the wrong one to ask, but it’s too late. Sorey grins impishly, and before Mikleo can push him away, he digs his fingers into Mikleo’s ribs, tickling the sensitive skin beneath his clothes. Mikleo squirms, trying to fight back, his own hands darting out to prod at Sorey’s abdomen. Even in tickle fights, they’re evenly matched, and Mikleo manages to get a few good attacks in there. Before Sorey realises it, he’s lost the upper hand, and he surrenders his laughter to Mikleo’s touch.

Suddenly, Mikleo stops, hovering by Sorey’s hips. “What’s this?” he asks breathlessly.

His hand hovers over Sorey’s pocket, where a box presses against the fabric, poking out in a completely unsubtle fashion.

“Er,” Sorey says succinctly. “It’s nothing.”

Mikleo looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. “If it’s nothing, you won’t mind telling me what it is. Right?”

Sorey averts his gaze, his teeth grazing his lip. “Okay, it’s something, but I don’t know if now is the time…”

“Sorey,” Mikleo says, grabbing his attention with a harsh tone. “If it’s important, just tell me. We don’t hide things from each other, do we?”

Those words scratch an old wound in Sorey’s heart, and he remembers the last time Mikleo said them to him. Back then, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t make Mikleo say them again.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll tell you.”

He stands back, putting about a foot of distance between them.

“I meant to tell you this sooner, but the weather had other plans,” he says, fumbling in his pocket for the box. “Don’t freak out.”

Mikleo doesn’t answer, though the way his mouth stays open, ready to say something but never voicing his thoughts, tells him all he needs to know about Mikleo’s expectations for this.

But this is it. Now is the time.

They’re near the ruins but the sky is cloudy. The stars are hidden but they are alone. This moment exists for them.

It’s not perfect, but in a way, it is.

Grasping the box, Sorey lowers himself onto one knee.

“Being with you is pretty neat,” he says, pulling the box out of his pocket. “I want to stay with you for good. And this is probably the best way of doing that.”

It takes a moment of fumbling, but he gets the box open. When he holds it out, green eyes meet violet.

“Will you marry me?”

The moment those words come out of his mouth, a shower of rain comes from nowhere. Immediately they are both soaked, and Sorey hurries to close the ring box before it gets damaged-

Except a pair of cool, pale hands stop him, holding it open.

He looks up to find Mikleo right in front of him, eyes soft with emotion. There’s water in his eyes, and Sorey knows it’s not from the rain.

“Yes,” Mikleo says with a laugh. “Of course I’ll marry you, you dummy.”

Sorey feels weightless.

“Really?” he says in breathless disbelief.

Mikleo rolls his eyes and grabs his face, pressing a rain-soaked kiss to his lips. The brief taste is addicting, and Sorey tries to chase after him, craving his warmth. Mikleo pulls away before he can return the kiss. “I could hardly give you any other answer. Being with you is pretty neat, after all.”

The re-iteration of Sorey’s sloppy proposal makes him laugh, and Mikleo’s laughter joins his, their joy floating into the sky.

Their lips come together once more, the contact heating them up as the cool rain continues to crash around them, a symphony of nature coming to crown this joyous moment. In a way it feels fitting that it’s happened like this - Mikleo’s always been partial to rain, after all.

“I love you,” Sorey says when their lips part.

Mikleo’s grin, paired with the shining wonder in his eyes, is a beautiful sight to behold. “I love you too.”

It takes a few minutes for Sorey to remember the ring, and though the rain makes it troublesome to handle, he slides it onto Mikleo’s right ring finger, a perfect fit. At this moment, it feels all the more real. His heart swells with emotion, and he feels heat prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Similarly, Mikleo looks at the ring with a swirl of happiness and disbelief in his eyes, a tear falling down his cheek. When Sorey kisses the ring on Mikleo’s finger, he covers his mouth with his free hand whilst the other shakes in Sorey’s grasp.

“I’m so glad you asked,” he says when he gets his breath back, making Sorey meet his gaze once more. “I’ve thought about it a few times, but I could never work up the courage.”

Sorey’s heart melts. “You thought about proposing to me? You know I’d have said yes, right?”

Mikleo puts a hand into his hair, ruffling it affectionately. “I do now, obviously. But you must know how it feels.”

“Yeah, I put it off for a while. But it’s worth it.” Sorey stands back up, pulling Mikleo close. His left hand still holds Mikleo’s right one, his thumb grazing over the gold band. “Now I get to see you happy, with this ring on your finger, and to know we’ll be together from now on, too.”

With a happy hum, Mikleo surges forward to capture his lips again. With the two standing, drenched to the bone but more buoyant than a ship on open waters, Sorey can only smile.

There couldn’t have been a better, more fitting moment than this.

#sormikweek2018 #tales of zestiria #toz #sormik #tales of zestiria fanfiction #ahhukighdjkdfn!!!!#it's finally sormikweek again!!!#i've been kind of afk since my last fic in may oops sorry #but i'll be posting every day this week because of course i am #i hope you guys like these fics omg

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