Chapter Text
Varis had fathered and allowed to bring into the world a son he didn't love.
Not from the moment his wife, Liliana, had lost her life after giving birth.
That day was too gloomy and horrifying for him to even celebrate the birth of a male heir.
For hours he had been pacing the hall, ever since he was notified that his wife was giving birth, but he wasn't allowed to enter.
And when the screaming had ceased within the great chamber, and the faint whimpering of a baby had been heard, he had smiled, ready to see both his wife and his child.
But as soon as he walked through those doors, what he saw was disheartening...
Liliana lying in bed, bled, covered with a sheet, with the servants crying around her, her midwife with a small bundle that cried in her arms.
No matter how many explanations he demanded, no matter how much he had the midwife executed after that, for allowing his wife to die on the spot.
He wasn't able to look his son in the face for almost two years.
Zenos grew up surrounded by everything the servants could offer him, as long as they want made a blond boy smile, with blue eyes like his mother's, the living image of her, one that marked Varis's mind with fire.
Everyone wanted to get a different expression on the child, to make him happy, but during his first five years, Zenos didn't feel anything.
Just an overwhelming emptiness growing inside of him, as if a dark tide will flood his shores.
He looked at his mother's portrait in the empty corridors of the palace, like something distant that he knew and at the same time he didn't, and then his father's, the only way to receive a look from him, to the face, that wasn't from him. restlessness, or disgust.
At the age of five, he knew that his father hated him.
The servants were always with him, asking him what he wanted, the teachers demanding his attention to the classes, his father, when he took him to the royal events, which had to do with the future of Garlemald, demanded him to behave.
Behaving was sitting. Still. Silent. Listening to conversations he didn't understand or care about for hours.
At one of those important dinners, where his small presence was only required out of obligation, Zenos could see a guard dog in the room, sitting next to the guards, fed, and rewarded with a touch on the head.
The young prince then thought that perhaps that was what his father expected of him.
Be obedient.
Fed to grow and be strong.
Used as a weapon for combat, and supposedly, to lead a nation to which he felt no love or attachment.
He wasn't a son, he was just an object.
Although he won't pay attention in class, it didn't mean that Zenos hadn't developed intelligence higher than any child of his age. Understanding concepts such as contempt, indifference, and rejection was the only thing that he could differentiate from the rest around him.
Rather, he had assumed that was the way the world was. At least for him.
What everyone expected from him, what everyone wanted from him. He lived with the fact that others wanted him to be something. That he wasto be happy being that something. They didn't understand that he didn't understand or want to understand all those things that they asked him to be and to do.
It was all so...boring.
Empty.
It was all a facade.
He was looking at the box full of toys in front of him, gifts brought to him by servants in his father's name, untouched because he never used them.
They had encouraged him to use them, of course, trying to play with him, getting nothing but blank stares. As if he was broken and didn't understand what they expected him to do.
Surrounded by people like he was, Zenos was alone and no one understood that loneliness and that gloom that surrounded a child who was neither loved nor wanted. Just an object with flesh and bones that they hoped to mold to their liking.
And the emptiness grew and grew day after day.
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At the age of nine, Zenos learned to read as if he were fifteen.
He understood complicated books, Garlemald history books, and so on, but his emotionless blue eyes only focused on books that spoke of adventures with wars and battles against powerful enemies.
A hero always described in them, a faithful adventure companion and a villain to defeat together.
They traveling to faraway and exotic places, described in ways Zenos had never heard of in any reports from Garlemald's soldiers to his father.
Places that were not seen from the windows of the palace.
People that Zenos had neither seen nor heard of were similar to those described in the books.
Although his imagination was not sufficiently fed, to create all that the book described with the same fascination with which the book itself described it, Zenos found something in it, which was stuck in his mind for hours and hours.
Two concepts he was familiar with and at the same time not.
Epic battles where two adversaries found a catharsis in the clash of swords, in the fight to measure the other, to find an equal that gave meaning to their fight and their existence.
And, on the other hand, a faithful companion. A friend.
Friend was a word he knew, he understood the meaning, and Zenos definitely hadn't had any friends. Never. The servants were servants. His cousin and other young members of the family were just that, family, and not friends. They wanted him dead because then they would become the heirs. His family was a web of bloodthirsty spiders.
Waiting for a misstep to move up.
So, those two concepts came together in his mind, making him question several things, could a friend be an adversary? an equal? Give meaning to his life in the same way that the characters in the book seemed to be?
That void inside of him…could it be filled with someone he could call a friend?
It was then, sitting in the great room of books, huddled on cushions, that he heard his father's footsteps enter, to find him sitting there. They didn't normally match up here.
Today must have been the first time that Varis looked at the face, and they stare, for so long, without being the portrait of the corridor.
"....So this is how you spend your free time, instead of training or studying to rule this country?" It was the only thing he said to him, with a cold voice, disapproving of any activity that had nothing to do with it. "Disappointing".
Zenos had remained impassive at his words, without changing his empty expression of feelings, even if some knife plunged deeper into his heart, closing more and more, any gap that could remain of a possible affection towards his own parent.
After all, he knew he was nothing to Varis.
And, on the other hand, he saw it as a perfect opportunity to speak, for the first time also in years, demanding only one thing from his father;
"I want a friend."
The face of his father was unforgettable.
Raised eyebrows, dilated golden pupils, mouth parted in a sneer, as if what his son had asked for was the moon itself, rather than just company.
"What… what kind of stupid thing did you just ask of me?" With firm steps, he approached his son, stomping, until he was in front of him, raising a hand too quickly for Zenos to understand what he was going to do.
And the next thing he felt was a blow to the face that made him drop the book on the ground, supporting himself with his small hands on the ground, noticing a burning sensation on his face.
His blue pupils were dilated, without light in them, showing for the first time an emotion that was not visible to his father.
Perhaps if Varis had seen him, he would have finished him off right then and there.
Hate. He hated him... He hated his father...!!!
The first time he touched him, and it was to hit him.
"Don't ask me for stupid things, ever again, unless it is useful for the future of your country." He said, walking past him, to stomp on the book his son was reading, making sure to break it in front of his eyes, as a necessary punishment.
Once he was alone in the room, Zenos couldn't take it anymore, he brought out his mute anger for so long, screaming like never before in his short life, throwing the chairs on the floor, knocking over the table, throwing books on the lamps. Wreaking havoc like no other, gasping as his rage had ebbed with time and physical exertion.
Slowly, he was recovering his breath, calming down, walking to the book that his father had destroyed, to kneel and take it, bringing it to his chest.
A friend...was that so difficult? So unattainable?
So forbidden for someone like him? If he was a prince and he was supposed to have everything he wanted, why couldn't he have the one thing he asked for?
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Oblivious to eyes that had watched him from the doorway, Zenos simply buried that desire deep within himself, sealing himself shut.
The butler supervising the young prince could only sigh deeply, feeling a hint of pity for him. He had only a few years of service left, and he had seen how that child had been deprived of the affection of a family. He also didn't know empathy for others because they were prohibited from interacting with him explicitly outside of his assignment.
How was a future emperor going to rule a country, to love it, if he had not even experienced love itself?
Due to his closeness to the deceased empress, since he had raised her when her parents lost her life, he had a small, tiny and almost negligible influence on Varis, whom he had known since they were both young.
That was why, one late winter night, he entered his office, after knocking respectfully.
"What do you want Minus? I'm busy. If Zenos has done something it's your job to fix it." He said simply, not looking up from the documents in front of him.
So unconcerned about his son. So indifferent, if he told him that he had died, surely he would only be weighed and would order that they bury him there.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke;
"I would like to grant the young prince his request, your highness." Varis immediately looked up at him, and before he received the negative, continued. "Zenos needs to develop his emotions, highness, you love our homeland with fervor, and we all thank you from the bottom of our hearts for everything you have done for us. But the young prince doesn't know love for his country. He doesn't associate with anyone, and he's already quite reluctant to follow the royal lessons. A... companion, someone who doesn't belong to the family, nor is a servant, it can help him get rid of all his frustrations and also focus on his lessons. He would learn to see Garlemald with different eyes, and not with boredom. A stimulation for his senses that allows him to improve as a person."
He hoped his words would soften Varis's cold heart. Or at least make him see that he was not raising a prince, but a child who felt nothing towards anyone.
The emperor listened to everything he said, crossing his arms, staring at him in a crude imposing silence, but the old servant was not afraid of him, respect, of course, but he was not afraid of the young man who had chosen his beloved Liliana at his side.
"....You say that if he has something to satiate his nonsense with, he will pay attention to his homework?".
"There's a good chance. With the right words and a good presentation." He conceded with a nod. "Zenos must not see it as something to manipulate him."
"I don't care how he see it, if the goal is to be efficient, then I put the responsibility of looking for a pet to spend time to you. But if the results I'm looking for don't bear fruit, I'll end it myself, and then you will pay for the loss of time in my son's future. Understood?".
Hard and raw as ice, Varis would keep his word without a doubt.
"Yes, his highness." He bowed respectfully.
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The truth is that the news seemed to gain the interest of Zenos, when his butler announced that his father had agreed to have a companion.
His eyes for the first time took on a gleam of curiosity, looking up from the book he was supposed to learn.
But he hadn't liked the part where Varis stipulated that it was the butler himself who would choose his future company. After all, Zenos needed someone his age, who was worthy of being with the prince without risk of being harmed.
However he showed total disinterest towards the candidates, Garlean boys and girls from good families, loyal to the empire, and acquaintances of Minus, had offered their children as Zenos's future playmates.
Throughout the week they hadn't stayed more than an hour in the palace.
Something that had undermined Minus's total confidence, because he didn't understand exactly what was wrong, until he saw it;
Zenos didn't accept them, and worse still, he challenged some of them to fight him.
With a wooden sword, practiced for combat, he challenged them, and even though it was made of wood, he had inflicted serious injuries on them, if the sword had been real, he would have hurt them worse or even killed them.
They all went through that personal exam that Zenos was demanding they take, and if they didn't want to, he just told them to go out, bored.
The idea was beginning to seem bad, of course, he couldn't keep bringing children to end up injured or in the worst case if this continued, dead.
It got to a point where he had to announce to Zenos that for a while, he couldn't bring anyone else, if he kept hurting them.
Then the young prince lost interest in the conversation and simply went back to his training, without saying a word.
What was inside his head was a mystery. Minus had tried to talk to him, make him reason that he didn't have to be so aggressive. But the prince ignored him, not responding, or looking at him uneasily, as if he didn't understand a vital point in his scheme.
But the worst was yet to come, one morning Zenos simply disappeared.
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Without leaving a trace, the prince had fled sometime between night and morning, and had managed to reach the streets of Garlemald.
He had had enough of the castle, of Minus's stupid nonsense of bringing children to be his friends, children bought or poisoned with his father's influence. Weak children who were not equals to him. They couldn't be friends. They were just hindrances.
Insignificant.
Zenos wanted to experience something new, for a change, on the other hand. He had never been able to see beyond the castle windows, and he wanted to feel what it was like to walk free for a few moments, without people following behind him, without his father clutching the ropes around his neck to choke him with demands.
Fleeing the castle would have consequences, he knew, exploring the place without guards behind him, a punishment he was not afraid of, being able to see the world bathed in snow, was worth it.
Breathing a second on his account was worth it.
That was how he saw him.
Zenos, covered with a coat and a hood that covered his face, saw a figure smaller than his own, running through the streets of Garlemald, pursued by soldiers.
Messy brown hair, pale reddish skin from the cold, dirty from the mud, dressed in foreign clothes, and bright blue eyes, more than his own, was what he had a few meters away, on the other side of the sidewalk.
The boy wriggled between the guards' grabs, fighting fiercely to free himself, even trying to bite them in order to obtain his freedom. But unarmed, despite his resistance, he was subdued by a couple more soldiers who grabbed his arms behind his back, shackling him.
"Fiiuff! This bloody savage scum nearly ripped my hand off!" One of the soldiers said, punching the boy's face upside down.
"Damn wild dog, learn your place!" another yelled, hitting his stomach with a hard boot.
The boy doubled over on the ground, gasping in pain.
"This is what they call Hyur in Eorzea, but it looks foreign, we don't know where." The third soldier commented, stepping on the boy's head, applying pressure. "He came with the batch of wild slaves and fled, took down two of the guards."
"A tough guy huh? These modern-day savages don't understand their place in this world."
The more they insulted, humiliated and put him down, the more indifference Zenos felt. They could be right, he was just another savage simply trying to avoid the inevitable.
Zenos was going to continue on his way aimlessly, until a scream made him look back.
It was then that he met the blue gaze, burning with rage, thirsty for blood, injected into his enemy, the soldiers, when he was bitten on the ankle by missing the point of speaking. Luckily they had no armor there or he would have broken his teeth.
Little Hyur stirred, pushing his body against the guards, fighting to flee, fighting to defend himself. Fighting for himself.
Even if the odds went against him, even without weapons, even with minimal chances of survival, that beast bared its teeth and claws.
It was...fascinating.
For the first time in a long time, Zenos saw something worthy of his attention, and he admired it all the time until he saw that the Hyur was shot down again using weapons.
A shove of the butt of the shotgun into his back, knocking him into the cold snow, and pointing the barrel at his head.
"This is over, it's not worth keeping this savage alive if he's going to cause so much trouble!" The soldier growled, the other two nodded, and the boy tensed.
There was no fear in his eyes, but frustration, clenching his fists and teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the barrel on his head.
And in those quiet streets a shot was heard.
The soldier fell limp to the ground, and the other two looked at the hooded figure before them.
"...I don't like this weapon. Killing is very easy. There is no thrill in this hunt." He said looking at the gun emotionlessly, letting it fall to the ground in disdain, before looking at the soldiers. "This beast is mine now."
"Haaah?! Who do you think you are brat?!" He pointed his gun at him, while the other tried to help the fallen soldier to no avail.
The brown boy raised his head to look at him blankly, his lips stained with blood, confused and distrustful.
A gust of wind lifted Zenos's hood, and his blond hair fluttered in the air, his eyes cold as steel, piercing the boy's hungrily.
"Prince...Zenos? His Highness?..." The soldier tensed, taking his aim off of him.
"Get up, beast" said the prince, to the other boy, deliberately ignoring the soldier. "You will come with me."
Whoever had told the brown boy that his day would end like this, accompanying the prince of Garlemald through the cold streets, until a horde of soldiers surrounded them, to escort the prince home, to the castle, where he was taken by the same forced ... really believed that he was dreaming and did not wake up.
But this dream was a nightmare as real as it was vivid.
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He was practically thrown into a bathtub to wash off the dirt by the butler, whose name he couldn't remember, who had looked at him like all the Garleans there: Contempt, disgust, hate.
All except the prince, who was now suffering the punishment of his father for running away from him.
The little Hyur had been taken to his room, under orders from the prince himself who forbade them to do anything to him other than clean him and tend to his wounds.
Like an animal that picked up from the street.
Clean clothes were placed at his disposal, since they considered his own's to be wild, as well as dirty and stinky. The young brown-haired kid gritted his teeth angrily, as he reluctantly took the clothes.
He didn't want this. He didn't want to be whatever that blond boy wanted, no matter how much he had saved his life.
He had to save the people of Eorzea who were in the slave camp. He had managed to escape, and he had already seen a little hole of the security system worked, the bad thing is that he needed weapons, armor... and damn it that he was only 9 years old!! With luck he had been able to barely face two soldiers and flee!
The young Hyur sighed once he was dressed, he was tired and hungry and needed to think everything through, as he looked at the huge room he was placed in, as if he belonged in it the same way one of those vases belonged.
It was then that the door opened and the little brown-haired jumped, immediately placing himself in a remote position, behind a table as if it were his shield, a barrier between him and what entered.
And what entered, indeed, was the blond boy, followed by the butler himself, who frowned upon seeing him.
"At least it looks like this beast knows how to take orders and has washed up. Now be still." he said coldly, approaching the boy, who immediately backed away until he was against the wall, clenching his teeth and shrugging his shoulders, looking like an animal ready to pounce. "For the love of Solus, look at you, baring your teeth like the savage you are! You'd better not put up any resistance, here, the generous prince has given orders that we heal your wounds!" he wanted to grab his arm, but the other moved away again.
Bored, the prince got tired of seeing the runaway spectacle of the shortest, and simply walked until he cut off his path, with a penetrating and cold gaze.
"The only reason I haven't let them blow your head off is to see if you're a worthy prey, given your spectacle out there. For that I want you to be in full power. Tomorrow I'll put you to the test, today heal and eat, if you refuse I will have you removed from my sight. Understood, savage?".
He spoke in a flat, cold tone, although he certainly seemed anxious that he meet his expectations.
The brown boy then glared at Zenos, feeling frustrated, trapped, between the sword and the wall. Keep your head down and live another day or die. Right now, his chances were slim, and he personally didn't want to die.
He closed his eyes, and relaxed his body, until the butler grabbed his arm and carelessly pulled him closer and sat on a chair, to attend to the wounds on his face and head, which even being clean now, were still visible, he also had to take off his shirt so he could look at his chest.
Full of bruises from blows, on his back and neck, arms, and surely legs.
Minus had no love for wildlings, they were all the same.
However, he had to admit, looking at how that child had been treated, wild or not, it had been...overkill....
He shook his head, surely it was this child fault, he had already seen his reluctant behavior, if he didn't cooperate, he couldn't be expected not to be treated as he deserved.
Zenos by his side, sat on the opposite side of the table, watching in silence and vague interest as the other was healed and treated, until his eyes met.
The young Hyur wondered how a child could have such an empty look, on top of being a "prince", he was supposed to be a spoiled child, but there was something here, in this place, that felt heavy, that was not right, to part of the obvious, racism towards other non-Garleans.
Something about this prince wasn't right, either.