[FIC]: Beat of Destiny: Man with Two Faces
Writing sprees are fun.
Man with Two Faces
Theme: #2 - Success, #80 - Good and Evil
Genres: Introspection/Angst
Character/Claim: Zechs Marquise
Rating: PG-13/K
Words: 275
Summary: “His world was coloured in shades of grey.”
The first thing he was ever taught was to succeed, that failure was not an option and never will be. It might surprise some, perhaps, that it was his father who taught him this. King Peacecraft was a pacifist, yes, but he was also a man born to succeed.
Just as his son was born to fail.
The first thing Zechs Marquise had learnt was that there was no good or evil, no clear black and white. His world was coloured in shades of grey, the childish black and white fading away.
Just as Sanc had faded away.
Sometimes he didn’t know who he was any more. Milliardo Peacecraft and Zechs Marquise were clashing, melding, the edges blurring together in a kaleidoscope of colours and emotions and faces and names that made him scream in confusion. He was lost, and yet he was not.
Zechs Marquise was a warrior with bloodied hands. Milliardo Peacecraft was the Prince of Sanc, clean, unblemished, untainted. But Milliardo had tried to destroy Earth, and now Zechs was fighting to save it. Who was the good, the white knight? Who was the evil, the black sorcerer? Who was he? Was he a Prince of a fallen kingdom? Was he an OZ soldier? He didn’t know.
Milliardo’s father had once taught him never to fail, that failure is bitter, that success is the sweetest thing he would ever taste. But as Zechs closed his eyes against the fire of the Libra, he knew that he, the man of two faces, the naïve Prince and the world-weary soldier, would never taste the success his father had envisioned.
For him, failure was sweet.
Owari
Man with Two Faces
Theme: #2 - Success, #80 - Good and Evil
Genres: Introspection/Angst
Character/Claim: Zechs Marquise
Rating: PG-13/K
Words: 275
Summary: “His world was coloured in shades of grey.”
The first thing he was ever taught was to succeed, that failure was not an option and never will be. It might surprise some, perhaps, that it was his father who taught him this. King Peacecraft was a pacifist, yes, but he was also a man born to succeed.
Just as his son was born to fail.
The first thing Zechs Marquise had learnt was that there was no good or evil, no clear black and white. His world was coloured in shades of grey, the childish black and white fading away.
Just as Sanc had faded away.
Sometimes he didn’t know who he was any more. Milliardo Peacecraft and Zechs Marquise were clashing, melding, the edges blurring together in a kaleidoscope of colours and emotions and faces and names that made him scream in confusion. He was lost, and yet he was not.
Zechs Marquise was a warrior with bloodied hands. Milliardo Peacecraft was the Prince of Sanc, clean, unblemished, untainted. But Milliardo had tried to destroy Earth, and now Zechs was fighting to save it. Who was the good, the white knight? Who was the evil, the black sorcerer? Who was he? Was he a Prince of a fallen kingdom? Was he an OZ soldier? He didn’t know.
Milliardo’s father had once taught him never to fail, that failure is bitter, that success is the sweetest thing he would ever taste. But as Zechs closed his eyes against the fire of the Libra, he knew that he, the man of two faces, the naïve Prince and the world-weary soldier, would never taste the success his father had envisioned.
For him, failure was sweet.
Owari