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It has been an eventful week to mark the end of a quiet period in Laku’s life. At its beginning, a stranger appeared from across the sea to recruit him for her cause: a rite of succession for a country he’d only heard of in passing and under normal circumstances couldn’t care less about.
He thought to tell her as such—however, she was apparently a friend of Erenville’s, whom Laku had grown friendly with during his stay in Sharlayan. And more importantly, Laku has been thirsting for more adventure. In fact… a particular ring in his pocket yearns for a moment to remember between him and his partner.
So instead, he told Wuk Lamat in no uncertain terms that Zenos was coming with, or the two of them would side with her brother that she worried would attack Garlemald if he got the throne. An unnecessary threat, but hey! Their tickets to Tural were thus secured.
All that is left to do is get their business in Eorzea in order and await the voyage. Laku spends an entire afternoon digging oft-unused mammets out of their storage to run Fulfillment Island in its owners’ stead; he reassures Soot and Havoc that he would be back like always, automates one of the mechanical servants to serve them their favorite snacks to placate them.
Soot he could possibly take with him, true, but his large pugnax companion would be more challenging. Perhaps he’ll give Rhica a call; if she plans to bring her massive battledrake, then it’s only fair Laku gets to bring his dog.
Still pondering upon these thoughts, he walks back to the middle of the yard and notices a written note on the ground. Soot, curious as he is, runs to it and picks it up.
Upon snatching it from the spriggan’s tiny hands, Laku reads it:
Meet me at the battlegrounds.
- Z
A small, fond smile rises on his face as he immediately drops everything he was doing and sprints up the hill to his partner.
Zenos stands waiting for him at the other end of the arena. “Did you take your time on purpose, Laku?” he calls out, equal fondness in his voice. “You wound me with such slowness.”
Behind him is not only his scythe, but the glimpse of a weapon the likes of which Laku has never seen before. He leans from side to side to see it better, tilting his head in curiosity.
Zenos smiles. “I see you’ve noticed my gift for you.”
“Gift?” Laku asks, with a hint of excitement, just as Zenos tosses it to him. He catches it with his quick reflexes and turns it around in his hands.
It’s a round, serrated blade on a long handle, red and black and perfect. Immediately it feels like it was made for Laku’s hand, and he has not even swung it yet.
Zenos steps forward and stands before Laku, his eyes fixated on him. “Now, let us see what you can do with it,” he says, then in an instant he lunges at him.
Laku responds with an unsurprised grin, lifting the new weapon to parry his scythe. His other hand finds itself on a trigger and presses it down. The weapon spins to life, its blade screeching against the offender.
Zenos’s smile widens. “I knew this would not disappoint me.”
He jumps upward and slashes at Laku, only for him to deflect the attack with his new toy.
The two combatants continue to exchange powerful blows, neither backing down, neither giving ground.
“I like it,” Laku concludes as he springs on the offense and tears into Zenos’s gear. “But what’s this about?”
“I am just enjoying myself. A warm-up, you might say, in anticipation of our journey to Tural.”
“The weapon, I mean,” Laku says with a laugh. Zenos’s blood spills on his cheek, and he uses his thumb to wipe it off in between strikes and parries.
“Well, I cannot have my mate wielding the same old boring weapon, can I?” Zenos shrugs, then swings his scythe again. “That is why I spent many moons and gil having this weapon custom made.”
Laku pauses with a conflicted frown. “Boring? Maybe, but…”
Zenos knows the sawback’s significance; not the details Laku does not speak about, but enough to infer the story. Taken from an early kill when he was but a cowering kit and wielded to gain a sense of power, it was his protection and his only companion for years. It used to never leave his side, not even to sleep, but he has seen him heal. He’s seen it abandoned in the corner of their bedroom while Laku went out to do his tasks, confident in not needing its company. He has Zenos, after all.
“You hang onto a remnant of a dead empire, an enemy empire,” Zenos points out. “You already chose to throw away the helmets in Rising Stones. What’s holding you back now?”
Laku’s hesitation leads to him taking a big slash from the scythe, only barely jumping out of the way enough not to get sliced in half altogether. He grunts, almost drops on his knees, but stands his ground.
“I don’t know,” he mutters.
Zenos sighs. “You see? I told you. You hesitate. You waver in your attacks.” He leaps at Laku again, unleashing a barrage of strikes at him.
Laku jumps out of the way. A renewed resolve burns in his eyes as he goes for the counteroffensive.
“You distracted me,” he accuses.
“Oh, so it is my fault you cannot focus on a fight?” Zenos taunts. “Come now, Laku. You know that is not the reason you falter.”
He begins to exchange powerful blows with Laku, matching each strike and dodge with his own. Even with his scythe empty after Zero’s departure, and his part-time deal with Golbez currently not active as the latter traverses the Void, he wields it formidably.
“Embrace it,” he coaxes him between their crossed blades. “Shed the past you’ve outgrown and embrace your future with me.”
Something in the words makes it click in Laku’s mind, and he strikes forward through his parry with a ferocious roar.
“There you go! That’s the spirit I love, Laku!” A wide smile decorates Zenos’s face. “Your hesitation holds you back; it blinds you, dulls your senses. If you truly wish to stand beside me, you must discard it, embrace the change that awaits you!” he shouts.
As Laku heeds the words and pushes that hesitation aside, he starts gaining a foothold in the duel. The new weapon purrs so nicely, so cleanly compared to his old one; it slides through the air, less cumbersome to wield, even if Laku became a master of the sawback during his years of using it.
“There it is, that look of determination. I always knew you could do it,” Zenos says as their weapons clash again. And again. “This is the real you, Laku. Strong, courageous, unrelenting.”
Dust billows around them, and when it settles, there is a lull in the fight where time stops as their eyes meet.
“It’s who I fell in love with.”
Laku’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t let this deter him. He feels the surge of aether in his weapon, conducted in the same way his sawback did after Radovan’s fixes.
Zenos notices from his expression that he has realized. “Yes. You’re a Gunbreaker, are you not? And appearances aside, that is a gunblade.”
He steps back, opens his arms in invitation. “Go on, try it! Shoot me!”
Laku’s eyebrows raise. He studies the weapon, trying to figure out how in the hells this thing can shoot anything. Finally, with a press of a button near the trigger, he finds where to reveal a hidden muzzle in its conical tip; after that discovery, he turns it around on his shoulder, wields it like a bazooka, and aims.
The sound of the aetheric explosion reverberates across the area, sending a burst of force in Zenos’s direction, knocking him several steps back.
Zenos laughs. “Well done! I am impressed that you figured it out so quickly, Laku. I would expect no less from a partner like you.”
In the knockback’s aftermath, Laku takes a deep, wide-eyed breath, then bursts into deep cackles. “Oh, I really like this.”
“I knew it would be to your liking,” Zenos says proudly. “With this weapon, you will be unstoppable. And all those that dare oppose us will crumble beneath our feet.”
He extends a hand toward Laku, waiting for him to take it. “So, my friend, my love. Will you join me on this journey? Will you stand by my side as we seek out new challenges? As we forge our own destiny?”
Laku scoffs, but takes his hand anyway. “Seems you forgot I invited you on the journey first.”
Zenos lets out a deep, hearty laugh. “I did, indeed. I was caught up in the moment.”
He pulls Laku closer and kisses him deeply. After a moment, he says, “Well then, let us go on this adventure together.”
The laugh, and then the kiss sweeps Laku off his feet. When their lips part, he’s dazed and starry-eyed.
“I guess you were right,” he concurs, a newfound excitement for the future in his heart. “It’s time to hang up the sawback. This is a new beginning.”