Final Fantasy XII (Vayne)
Apr. 11th, 2007 11:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: History is Written
Author:
puella_nerdii
Rating: G
Wordcount: 412
Prompt: Final Fantasy XII, Vayne: Noblesse oblige - the consolations of philosophy
A/N: Um. I hope my interpretation of the prompt's not completely off. >>
Of his youth, Vayne chiefly remembers the stately library tucked deep within the imperial residence at Archades: the elegantly spiraling staircases, the stately shelves piled high with crumbling manuscripts, the rich aroma of musty leather and wood polish. As the third son, he was permitted to curl up in the library’s plush green armchairs with a copy of Mysteries of the Ancients balanced on one knee and The Royal Dictionary of Archades on the other. As he traced the curling script favored by the philosopher Morgen with his fingertip, he imagined the shape of History itself emerging from the outlines of the lopsided gs and haphazardly dotted is.
What he remembers best of that book is the etching of Dynast-King Raithwall near the center. He recalls the thickness and roughness of the artists’ lines, the heavy black smudges around Raithwall’s eyes and the sagging flesh of his cheeks. That was when Vayne first sensed that history had not only shape but weight, weight enough to destroy those who would treat history’s burden lightly.
His mother complained to his father about his long hours spent reading, of course. “Your brothers do not waste their time with such pursuits,” she informed Vayne, lips pursed tightly. Perhaps if they had spent time with such pursuits, Vayne would not have been tasked with carrying out their death sentence. Perhaps if they had thought like kings of old instead of petty warlords, perhaps if their view of the world had encompassed not only the airless Senate chambers and towering imperial residences but the whole of Ivalice, ready to be forged by those with wills of fire and hearts of iron…but they had not.
Larsa, however…Larsa thinks like the emperors of old, but he sees only the shape of history; he is still too slender to support Ivalice on his shoulders. In centuries, though, the shelves of the imperial library will groan under the weight of testimonies to the accomplishments of the Emperor Larsa. He examines the sharp blue shard of manufacted nethicite under his desk light and wonders if future scholars and philosophers will treat him with the same generosity. A smile plays across his lips as he imagines great bearded sages seated under these very ceilings, ink splattering their gnarled fingers as they savagely revise their peers' texts on the reign of Vayne Solidor, the Emperor Godsbane.
Vayne Solidor, the Emperor Truthbearer. Vayne Solidor, the Emperor Worldforger.
The names have the ring of history to them.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Rating: G
Wordcount: 412
Prompt: Final Fantasy XII, Vayne: Noblesse oblige - the consolations of philosophy
A/N: Um. I hope my interpretation of the prompt's not completely off. >>
Of his youth, Vayne chiefly remembers the stately library tucked deep within the imperial residence at Archades: the elegantly spiraling staircases, the stately shelves piled high with crumbling manuscripts, the rich aroma of musty leather and wood polish. As the third son, he was permitted to curl up in the library’s plush green armchairs with a copy of Mysteries of the Ancients balanced on one knee and The Royal Dictionary of Archades on the other. As he traced the curling script favored by the philosopher Morgen with his fingertip, he imagined the shape of History itself emerging from the outlines of the lopsided gs and haphazardly dotted is.
What he remembers best of that book is the etching of Dynast-King Raithwall near the center. He recalls the thickness and roughness of the artists’ lines, the heavy black smudges around Raithwall’s eyes and the sagging flesh of his cheeks. That was when Vayne first sensed that history had not only shape but weight, weight enough to destroy those who would treat history’s burden lightly.
His mother complained to his father about his long hours spent reading, of course. “Your brothers do not waste their time with such pursuits,” she informed Vayne, lips pursed tightly. Perhaps if they had spent time with such pursuits, Vayne would not have been tasked with carrying out their death sentence. Perhaps if they had thought like kings of old instead of petty warlords, perhaps if their view of the world had encompassed not only the airless Senate chambers and towering imperial residences but the whole of Ivalice, ready to be forged by those with wills of fire and hearts of iron…but they had not.
Larsa, however…Larsa thinks like the emperors of old, but he sees only the shape of history; he is still too slender to support Ivalice on his shoulders. In centuries, though, the shelves of the imperial library will groan under the weight of testimonies to the accomplishments of the Emperor Larsa. He examines the sharp blue shard of manufacted nethicite under his desk light and wonders if future scholars and philosophers will treat him with the same generosity. A smile plays across his lips as he imagines great bearded sages seated under these very ceilings, ink splattering their gnarled fingers as they savagely revise their peers' texts on the reign of Vayne Solidor, the Emperor Godsbane.
Vayne Solidor, the Emperor Truthbearer. Vayne Solidor, the Emperor Worldforger.
The names have the ring of history to them.
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Date: 2007-04-12 05:44 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-04-13 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 07:33 am (UTC)(I seem to have picked up a lot of your prompts this go-around, actually...^^)