Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco-Bandai, I own only this laptop.
Spoiler Warning: Spoilers straight down to the name of the last boss.
Warnings: Dark themes, mild language, and...mild Yuri/Rita pairing. Very, very mild.
Some parts of this fic might seem odd. I will explain my reasoning at the end. Also, I apologise in advance for any tears this might cause. I seriously started to cry while writing it. Of course, that might have been influenced due to the fact that it was about 4 am at the time...
Before you start reading, I want to take a second to say that I do adore Zagi. After Yuri, he's tied for second with Kratos as my favourite Tales character. I think there's a lot of hidden depth to his character, so I decided to explore that. Yeager too, to be honest. However I like Zagi more, so he got the fic. XD I know a lot of people found Zagi to be annoying, but I did not. I hope, if you're one of those people (although I doubt you'd be reading this if you were...), that you take this as an opportunity to re-examine his character. To the rest of you, I hope you enjoy! (Well, I hope everyone enjoys, but you get me?) Feel free to leave me any comments!This story took a lot of time, but I really enjoyed working on it. I'd love to hear from you!
No Man's Land
Tarqaron towered over him, somewhere up at the peak was Duke, waiting to do whatever it was the fool wanted to do. Below him loomed a gaping black pit. Who could tell when one would hit the ground if you fell in there. He was vaguely aware that the fate of the world rested within this very tower, that his own life was, technically, on the line; yet Zagi could not bring himself to care. All that he could think about was that Yuri was somewhere below him, and would soon be before him. One last battle, a no holds barred, no quarter given, duel to the death. He had seen to that. His thoughts were obsessed with the thought of finally having it out with the black-haired swordsman. So obsessed that he did not even care that either result, his victory or Yuri's, would lead to his death.
It was almost unnerving. Zagi was fully aware that he had thrown any care for fellow humans aside years ago. His family was gone, butchered brutally when he was young, so what else was there to do? Besides, he had never liked his parents anyway. They had given him no reason to love them, and every reason to hate them...
"Hey, Brat, get over here! Yes, you! Who do you think I'm talking to, that rug you're sitting on? Now get your ass over here! Right now!"
Flinching in fear, the young boy quickly stood up and slunk in toward his father as slowly as he dared. As much as he feared approaching the man, he feared far more the consequences of not doing as he was told. Seeing his father's hand come up, the boy flinched in fear, ruby eyes going wide as he cringed down, trying to become a smaller target. Needless to say he was surprised when no painful contact was forthcoming. No, indeed his father was suddenly thrusting a long knife into his hands.
"Don't give me that look, Whelp! You're going to learn how to fight, and you're going to learn right, got that?"
Nodding slowly, the young boy clutched the blade tightly, watching in silent fear as his father suddenly whirled on him with twin daggers drawn, slashing and stabbing at him with no mercy.
With a pained cry, the child fell back, clutching a suddenly-bleeding cheek.
"Tsk," his father said, shaking his head, "you're never going to get good it you don't learn the hard way! And stop backing off like a frightened cheagle! Don't run, Kid, fight!"
Taking his hand from him cut face, the boy gazed into the crimson liquid staining his hand. He had known his father—and his mother, for that matter—to hit him before. That was hardly uncommon, even. This, however, was the first time he had ever had weapons raised against him.
With a whimper, the six-year-old hefted the heavy knife in front of him just in time to block a second slash from his father.
"Good, good! Like that! A true warrior never gets hit except when facing the best of the best! Remember that! And you will be the best of the best, I expect perfection!"
The child had no further warning as his father closed in on him, knives blurring in an incredible fashion. He blocked as best he could, unsure of what else to do to stay alive...
He was hardly successful.
Thinking back, Zagi realised it was a wonder he had survived childhood at all. That man had shown him hardly any mercy. If not for his mother's slight ability with healing, he probably would not have lived. If not for that healing he certainly would be covered in scars today. As it was, the only evidence remaining was the stamp that had been left on his soul.
Not that his mother had been any sort of angel. Far from it, in fact.
"Brat, get over here!"
With a soft moan, the young boy pulled himself out of bed, joints still stiff and aching from all of the fighting his father had been forcing on him. The older man had decided that now that his son had hit the double digits it meant that his workload should be doubled. Granted, all of the sword-fighting was having an effect on the boy. He had grown fast, quick to think in a fight, light on his feet, and just overall excellent with a blade. Injuries were becoming few and far between. Even at the ripe young age of ten, he was growing to be a formidable opponent.
Not that either of his parents would ever say as such. To them he was never good enough.
"I'm not going to tell you one more time...!"
With a barely-contained yelp, the boy was out of bed and standing before his mother as fast as he could move. He had barely stopped in front of her when a wooden spoon blazed across his cheek hard enough to snap the wood.
"When I tell you to move, you move!"
Flinching, the boy bowed his head, struggling to keep a hand from wandering up to sooth his aching face. That would just be taken as a sign of weakness.
Sniffing, the tough woman threw down the broken spoon.
"Next time will have to be metal, you little aphid," she threatened. "That's what you get for breaking my best cooking piece."
"Yes Mother..." he finally mumbled, carefully keeping his eyes on the floor. Anything else would just have him 'put in his place' for 'defying authority'.
With a sniff, the woman turned to leave. "Watch your sister while I bathe."
Once she had left the room, the ruby-eyed boy dropped to his knees and scooped the four-year-old toddler into his arms, clutching her tightly to his chest. If only she had never been born into this hell-hole, she never deserved such a fate...
Mari.
Zagi wondered about what cruel twist of fate had brought his thoughts to her. Regardless, there was little point in dwelling on the past now.
Still...some things were easier said than done. Allowing his restless feet to carry him in a slow loop around the landing where we awaited Yuri, he tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere, anywhere but on Mari. No matter how he tried, however, it was a useless effort.
"Brother!"
Turning, the boy allowed the smile he saved solely for his sister to grace his lips. She was such an angelic child. Reaching down, he ruffled her soft, pink hair with an affectionate hand.
"What is it, Mari?"
Beaming up at her older brother, the six-year-old grinned. "Mom was gonna force more magic lessons on me, so I got away!"
Eyes widening, the twelve-year-old reached down and grabbed her hand tightly. "Please tell me you're kidding, Mari!"
"Big Bro?" she asked, soft brown orbs staring up at him. "What's wrong? Y-you look scared...did Dad hurt you again?"
"No, but Mari, you can't go skipping out on lessons. Promise you won't ever do it again!" he pleaded, ruby eyes filled with worry.
"O-okay...but why?"
Keeping tight hold of her hand, the boy began leading her back toward their house.
"Don't worry about why, just do it."
Catching his mood, the young girl nodded, clearly terrified. "O-okay..."
Entering the house, the boy looked around carefully until he spotted his very displeased mother staring at them.
"Well, look at what the cat dragged in... I thought you had lessons, Miss Prise!"
"Mari, go wait in the other room."
Once the girl had departed, the young boy walked over to his mother before bowing hastily, terror running through his veins.
"M-Mother? I-I'm sorry! I took Mari out...I didn't realise she had lessons, really!"
"Didn't realise?! I doubt that very much! You were running off, weren't you? Don't lie to me, Boy!"
Cringing, the boy could do nothing but stare up at his mother fearfully as she smacked a metal spoon off of one hand while slowly closing in on him.
"I-it was my fault, really! Don't hurt her!"
"Fine. Then you can take her punishment as well as your own."
As his muted whimpers cut through the silences between lashings, he heard Mari start to cry in the other room.
Zagi scrubbed one hand stubbornly across his eyes. He was not crying! Something had flown into his eye, dammit!
Stomping irately, the maniacal assassin stormed to the edge of the platform to stare down into the pitiless depths. It was all his parents' faults, let their souls be damned! Everything could be credited to them! He had never even been able to truly tell what it was they wanted from him! They insisted he 'give them due respect' and then turned around and acted like...
The boy pressed himself up against the door, ears straining to catch the conversation drifting to him from the other room.
"...brats. Boy can't even figure it out!"
"Girl's got no talent! Dunno what to do with her!"
"Forget the female for a second! It's the boy...he's got barrels of talent, but no backbone! We tell him to submit, and he does! He needs to learn that he has to have a backbone and a will of steel to be the best!"
"You terrorise it into him! What do you except?! He's just a kid, give him time. He'll snap back one day, and then you won't be so happy..."
"Perhaps...just so long as he brings no shame to this family."
"He won't. The girl, though...she's useless. I shouldn't even bother training it."
"Hm, give her time. If she doesn't come around we can always get rid of her."
"Alright. One more year, if not..."
The thirteen-year-old gasped softly and all but ran back to dive under the covers. What did his father mean that he had no backbone? He fought with everything he had! He was barely ever hit anymore! And worse than that...what was going to happen to Mari if she did not improve? She tried so hard...
Zagi gripped his sword hilt, a low growl sounding in his throat at the memory. Oh, he knew now. He knew all too well what it had all meant. His youth had led to ignorance then, perhaps had he understood...
No, thinking that way was useless. It would only lead to regrets about things he could not change. Regret was not in his vocabulary.
His father had been right about one thing, though: he had snapped back. It was almost amazing, considering how much of a fighter he had been toward people not related to him...
"Hey, look, it's that crazy kid. Good grief, but I can't believe his parents let him behave the way he does."
"I know! I told my kids to stay away from him. He's far too violent."
Turning, the boy glared at the women talking across the street. Did they not realise he could hear every word they were saying? Then again, they probably wanted him to.
With that thought, he folded his arms and stalked away. It was not like he wanted such a violent nature, it was just...well, it was how he had been raised.
Talk about irony.
"I heard he beat up a boy for calling his mother nice. Seriously, what the hell's wrong with him? They should lock him up."
Yes. Irony.
Well, what did these strangers know, anyway? It was not like he cared. These people were inconsequential to his life. All that mattered was surviving, and keeping Mari alive. If that hardened him, then so be it. It was a small sacrifice.
"--killer's eyes."
Was that true? Well, then so be it.
A small sacrifice.
Tuning out the women's mindless chatter, the boy kept on his errand. He had been told to hurry, so he was going to hurry.
"Hey, Pinky, love the hair!"
Growling, the young teen forced himself to ignore the snide comments being shot at him from a group of boys that had fallen in behind him. If he let himself get distracted now...
"Heh, so his mommy let him out today, I see. He's so ugly I'm surprised."
"And without his bratty sister. Amazing. And here I thought they were lovers or something. Never one without the other."
"I know, she hangs off of him like a leech."
"Worse than a leech, at least leeches can't talk."
Veering off, the ruby-eyed teen headed off to the park. He had had about enough.
Nobody insulted his sister.
In fact, if he had not been on a schedule...nobody insulted him like that, either.
"Running away through the park, Pinky?"
Pausing, the boy did not turn around, speaking to the air before him, "You're the ones that are gonna be running."
"O-ho, talking big, eh?"
"Here's the game plan. You make me bleed, and you win. You don't, and I win." Cracking his knuckles, the boy finally turned to face them. "Fair enough for ya?"
"You against all of us? You're on!"
He needed no more invitation. He had been taught to strike fast and hard. So he did.
Opening the door to his house some time later, he dropped the vegetables he had been sent to get on the counter.
"Where were you, Brat?"
"I won."
"Hmph, fine."
Knowing that was as close to praise as he would ever get, the child left to find his sister and make sure she was well.
Yes, that was right. He had been ostracised as a child. Well, in between people picking fights with him, of course. Fights he had won more often than not.
In fact, by the time he was fourteen, he had even begun beating his father from time-to-time. In fact, Zagi seemed to recall harbouring some ridiculous dream of using his skill to one day help Mari escape with him. Of course, that had never happened. He had never forgotten his parents' words that night, and one night, all had fallen in around him.
He remembered all too well...
"Girl, get over here!"
The boy watched from the next room with a frown as his younger sister leapt up and scurried over to their mother, wariness painting her pretty features. As she had aged, the young girl had learned caution around their parents. Still, that fact did not stop him from watching out for her, also. Something in the air just did not feel right. His parents seemed...edgy. Not only that, but his father was supposed to be joining him for more 'training,' yet he had been ordered to wait alone until the older man was ready. Not at all a normal occurrence.
"Go outside and wait for us, we're going for a walk."
Silently, Mari did as she was told, which only caused the young teen to frown more. This was not right.
"...the boy's not going to be happy when he realises she's gone. He's quite fond of her."
"He'll get over it. You're the one who's been complaining that she's useless to train. We gave her that year..."
The boy grit his teeth, red eyes narrowing. He had known it! They were going to do something to Mari!
"You sure this is going to go smoothly? He could cause trouble..."
"Just force him into silence. You can do that, right?"
"...perhaps."
"If you can't, I will."
"He's nearly as good as you."
"He'd like to think that."
The boy heard his mother grunt something noncommittal in response, yet he was passed paying attention. He had to rescue Mari! Who knew what they were going to do to her?! Gripping his sword tightly, he burst out of the room, eyes glowing with rage.
"What the hell are you going to do to Mari?! Tell me, dammit!"
Frowning, his father shook his head. "I told you to wait for me, boy! Now get back in there! I'll deal with you later."
Hefting his sword, the pink-haired boy shook his head, blond bangs flapping over his ruby eyes. "No. Not until I know Mari's safe!"
"Why you little...!"
Narrowing his eyes, the boy growled. "Answer me!"
"We're getting rid of her. She's useless!"
"No she's not, you bastard! Let her go!"
"Don't order me around!" hissed his father, reaching for his own sword. "I guess your punishment isn't going to wait."
As he was speaking, the boy's mother had stuck grabbed her own metal spoon, beating it off of one hand. "You're going to regret this."
The boy did not care. His thoughts were consumed by rage that his parents meant to take Mari away from him. What were they going to do to her? Kill her? Sell her away? It did not matter. He had had enough. He would protect her, even if it was the last thing he did.
With a growl, he lunged forward, blade slashing at his father. He had only a split second to react as the man's blade came at him. Falling back, he ducked under the weapon and parried it with his own. Using his left arm resting on the floor, he shifted his weight to his torso and kicked the man's legs out from under him and quickly rolled away as the heavier male fell.
Never being one to forget multiple opponents, the teen shot up, blade before him to confront his mother. With a shrill cry, the woman launched herself at him in an attack that he easily dodged, ducking under and slicing open her side. With a cry, the tall woman fell back, her heated brown eyes glaring at him. Slicing behind him, the boy managed to stab his father in the shoulder before leaping back, bloodied blade level in front of him.
"You little whelp!"
"No! Don't!"
His father's cries were too late, however, as the boy threw himself into his mother's assault, smoothly disarming her as he kicked her to the floor.
"Nobody hurts my sister!" he yelled, blade coming down to stab her in the back. Wrenching the dripping blade back up, he slashed and stab her several more times before jumping back to avoid his father's enraged assault.
"You Brat! Screw the family legacy! You're dead!"
With a snort, the boy flowed back, a maniacal grin painting his face. "Am I? She is, but I don't think I am!" Lunging forward, he reversed the blade and drove the hilt into his father's stomach, causing the older man to cough up blood. As the man staggered back, the boy shoved him to the floor.
"You know...I've wanted to do this for a long, long time, you bastard. You deserve every bit of agony for what you did to us!" As he spoke, the boy was driving his sword point into the man's flesh. Arms, legs, shoulders... Each thrust brought a new spray of blood squirting up, staining the sword and surrounding floor a deep red. Finally he planted one foot firmly on the redheaded man's chest, a demonic smirk on his face.
"Now...you die."
The boy was quite fascinated with how loud his father screamed as that blade drove through his heart.
"...guess I won."
Drawing the blade back, he was shocked to hear the front door creak open. "W-what's going on?!"
No...if the authorities caught him now, when he'd just won their freedom, he'd...!
Whirling on his heel, he drove the sword deep into the figure entering the house...
He had passed out after that, Zagi recalled. Likely from raw shock as to what he had done. He had been found eventually, likely by some neighbour who had heard the screams. It had been determined that someone had broken in and murdered his parents. He had tried to defend them, but had been knocked out and left for dead.
And Mari...
She had been found just outside the house, stabbed through the side and into the gut. Likely by whoever had been sent to 'get rid' of her. At least, that was what he had told himself all of these long years.
He had not killed his sister. He. Had. Not.
After a few years, he had even begun to believe it.
He never could recall the face of the third person he had stabbed, however. It was like it had been completely wiped from his mind by the time he awoke, in a strange place...
"Poor thing...he hasn't said a word since he came here. Lost his whole family in an attempted robbery, or so they think."
"Hm...still, no different from most of the children here. The only way they differ is whether or not they have siblings; poor things."
The boy tuned them out. People were always talking, they never seemed to know when to shut up. He had no regrets over the deaths of his parents, only Mari. He had been unable to save her, and for that alone he wanted to turn back time. Still, it was useless dwelling on it, what was done was done.
Yet dwell on it he did.
"His eyes...they're so cold."
"A lot of them are like that, when they first come to us. He'll get better. Just give him some time."
"...are they? He just...looks so hate-filled."
"Give him time, that's all he needs."
"If you say so..."
"Now, if you'll come this way, I'll introduce you to some of our other children."
The boy paid no mind to the two women walking away with no few glances back in his direction. He did not care. It was how his days went now. People came in, looked at him, and bypassed him. It was all the same. He expected he would remain until he was old enough to leave legally, or he ran off.
He had been wrong, however. In fact, he had lasted only a few more days after that incident, so Zagi recalled. Perhaps it had been fate that had brought him to that orphanage, perhaps not. Whatever it was, it had decided his life.
How fitting.
"Oh, Sir Yeager! We took in a new one; you should have a look at him!"
"Ja? Let's see then."
"There he is...we don't know his name, he hasn't spoken yet."
The boy glared over at the two newcomers to his turf, fiery-red eyes blazing. He had seriously had enough of these stupid interruptions. Why could people not leave him alone? Could they not see that it was all he wanted?
"Leave us."
With a bow, the woman wasted no time in hurrying away, leaving Yeager and the boy alone together.
"What happened to you, boy?"
Glaring evenly at Yeager, the boy just frowned.
"I like your eyes. I can always use another good soldier. You must understand, ja?"
"...what are you talking about?" the boy finally asked, folding his arms impudently.
Yeager laughed. "I see you will take some convincing, nein? Very well, very well."
"Spit it out!"
"Your parents are dead, ja?"
The boy rolled his eyes. Honestly, was this man stupid? Why else in hell would he be at a bloody orphanage?!
"Ach, ach. No need to get touchy, oh no. I'll I'm saying is that you...are a killer, ja? Ah, I see by your glare that I'm right, nein? Very good, very good. Your parents died, you killed them, hm?"
"W-what?! H-how do you...?" exclaimed the boy, eyes widening.
"I need someone like you, for my Guild. You will join us, ja? Very good. An assassin, I think, yes. That will do for you."
"What the hell, man?! Just who do you think you are?!"
"...you refuse? Well this is not good, ach nein, no."
"...I never said that." He had been trained to fight, to kill. He might as well use those skills. After all, it was all he knew in the world. He had been taught nothing else.
"Very good! You will come with me, hm?"
"...fine, but you'll regret it if you're lying to me."
"Nonono! All will go well, you will see, you will see."
Standing up, the boy approached Yeager slowly, clearly on his guard.
"Now, what shall I call you?"
The omission of the word name did not go unnoticed by the boy. Frowning, he shook his head slowly, thinking.
"Call me...Zagi."
"Very well, Zagi. Welcome to Leviathan's Claw!"
The two exchanged no further words as Yeager announced that he was taking 'Zagi' with him. Zagi had no idea what was in store for him, but he was going to face it with everything he had.
Because it was all he could do. Fighting was all he knew, and he would be the best.
And so he had been, at least until he had met Yuri. Yuri had bested him, made him bleed. That counted as a loss according to his rules. It had meant he was not the best; or at the least that there was someone worth fighting in the world. Honestly, the result of their first battle had shocked Zagi to no end. Never before had he been foiled from a target. Yuri Lowell, however, had beaten him time and time again. It was downright shocking to him.
And also fascinating. Yuri Lowell was a study for him. After everything that had happened in his life, he could honestly say that, aside from his sister, Yuri was the only person who had even interested him. He even dared to think that, given other circumstances...they might have been able to be friends. He almost wished that they could have been. He hated his life. After Mari he had allowed no living soul close to him, yet he often wished he had dared. It was a lonely existence.
"Yuri...dammit to hell! Why...do we have to fight like this?" he screamed, slashing out with his left arm in a rage. For all of his posturing, he really wished he could just fight Yuri as...friends training together, if he dared to think such a thing. It might not get him the rush he wanted from fighting all-out to the death, but it would give him something more.
Perhaps it would have saved him, given the time.
Perhaps.
At the sound of distant footsteps, Zagi moved to stand silently in the centre of the landing. Waiting. Waiting for death, and he knew it. No matter the outcome, he would die.
As he felt Yuri's blade cut deeply into his chest and toppled back into the gaping pit, Zagi could not help but smile.
"Thank you, Yuri..." he whispered as he fell, eyes closing. Finally he had recalled the face of the third person he had stabbed that day. A face he had forced himself to forget, with its brown eyes asking 'why?' in a tone louder than any voice. "For...avenging Mari for me."
"He was insane."
Yuri could not help but chuckle a bit at Rita's comment, although the laughter held no amusement. "Was he?"
"Duh! I mean, seriously, the guy chased you like some sort of stalker! It was...creepy."
"I won't argue with you there."
"He kept going on and on about getting a 'good fight'. Seriously, what was that all about?"
Yuri just shrugged, running his gauntleted right hand through his hair. "I couldn't say." Despite his words, Yuri was not entirely sure he did not harbour a guess, at least. He could never hope to know the truth, but he could guess. "Something messed him up as a kid though."
"Heh, you think so, Kid?"
"Yeah I do, Old Man. I really do."
Raven smirked. "If that's the case...do you think he found his answer?"
"...no, I don't. But who can say for sure except him?"
"Good answer, Yuri. Good answer."
"You two are way too weird..."
Raven and Yuri just exchanged a knowing glance at Rita's comment. Perhaps someday she would understand.
"Yeah, we are," Yuri said with a more genuine chuckle. Laying a hand on Rita's shoulder, he hustled her along gently. "What're you gonna do about it?"
Rita frowned. "J-just shut up."
"Come on, kids! Even this ol' man's goin' ta leave ya behind!"
"Guess we better get going before Raven decides to fly away on us."
"Huh, he's just an idiotic old man, but you're right. We have stuff to do."
Nodding, Yuri glanced back only once before setting his gaze ahead and moving forward. It was all he could do now, after all.
Alright. Now to explain the immense retardation that was the flashbacks. I'm sorry if anyone was confused by them, considering the fact that only Mari (and Yeager) were given names. There is a method to my madness, however. I feel that Zagi's name, as a child, was not Zagi. However we do not know what it was. So he got no name. His parents also got no names, as they were, technically, characters at some point in time, because they had to have existed.. Mari, however, was an OC through and through. So she got a following me? It might be silly, but it's how I work.
I might consider adding on to this, as I'm not completely convinced Zagi's 'death' couldn't be gotten around. He's survived enough times before... I dunno, let me know? I have an idea or two, but I want to know what you guys think.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, reviews would be love, and, uh...thanks for reading!
