[Final Fantasy] Untitled Tactics drabble
For abercius. I owed you a slashy Xenosaga drabble, but seeing as that probably wasn't going to happen any time soon, I wrote you an Izlude drabble instead.
When Izlude was very young, his father took him to a festival in Gariland and said to him: "The devil knows best how to tempt a man's soul. Only heatherns celebrate in so many colors." his voice was stern and steady- Vormov Tingle was never anything but- however by the end of the festival he'd caved and bought Izlude a sugar stick. It was rough and almost unbearably sweet, but Izlude cherished every single bite; they weren't allowed to eat sugar inside the church.
It was equal measures starry-eyed adoration and near religious devotion, but Vormov had never given his children a reason to doubt him. His career was built on murder, deception and a healthy dose of manipulation, but Izlude had always understood that in this case, the ends justified the means. Which was why he was so surprised when his father's blade buried itself between his ribs.
The last thing Izlude heard before he died was a girl's voice, soft a melodic. It was the kind of voice that should be singing, he thought, the kind of girl who would have been trilling alleluias at the altar. He forced himself to open his eyes, and in her dark, brown eyes her saw the face of St. Ajora.
She held his hand.
ende
Word Count: 210
When Izlude was very young, his father took him to a festival in Gariland and said to him: "The devil knows best how to tempt a man's soul. Only heatherns celebrate in so many colors." his voice was stern and steady- Vormov Tingle was never anything but- however by the end of the festival he'd caved and bought Izlude a sugar stick. It was rough and almost unbearably sweet, but Izlude cherished every single bite; they weren't allowed to eat sugar inside the church.
It was equal measures starry-eyed adoration and near religious devotion, but Vormov had never given his children a reason to doubt him. His career was built on murder, deception and a healthy dose of manipulation, but Izlude had always understood that in this case, the ends justified the means. Which was why he was so surprised when his father's blade buried itself between his ribs.
The last thing Izlude heard before he died was a girl's voice, soft a melodic. It was the kind of voice that should be singing, he thought, the kind of girl who would have been trilling alleluias at the altar. He forced himself to open his eyes, and in her dark, brown eyes her saw the face of St. Ajora.
She held his hand.
ende
Word Count: 210