'ɓเɠ ɠαყ' รσ૨εყ (
monolike) wrote in
kickitover2017-04-30 12:27 am
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[He sleeps.
The plan had been simple, though Sorey hadn't known if it would work; act as Maotelus's vessel, cut off all his senses, and exist as a living pulse of purification. If he slept he wouldn't change, if he slept within Maotelus's domain he (hopefully) wouldn't die. It would mean he would be lost to the ravages of time, left behind by everything he knows, but this way he could eliminate at least a little bit more of the suffering the world had already endured. Maybe it's fueled in part by ego. Maybe he just can't leave things alone for someone else to clean up. Either way, Sorey closes his eyes and prepares to rest.
Only...he doesn't.
He doesn't dream, he doesn't experience some other world or existence; what he feels instead is a spread. His eyes aren't his and he can't choose what to focus on, and sometimes he hears things and sometimes he doesn't. For decades at a time all he hears is the slow growth of earth around the crater, vegetation creeping in and animals settling within it, rain trickling down to form a lake that empties over time during the more severe droughts. Sorey feels Glendwood change around him (and it becomes other names, Nothrand, Lilium, Morensa) and he realizes, an embarrassing few centuries later, that he's not awake but he's experiencing the world through Maotelus's blessing.
It's surprisingly soothing. Even when he watches civilizations build and crumble, Maotelus is there with him to talk him through the agony of observing war. It's hard, he says in his childlike voice, seated in Sorey's lap in the shared spaces of their souls, leaning his head back against his chest, it's hard just to watch, but sometimes people don't want to have peace. Freedom is the most important. You have to remember that.
Maotelus tells him stories about his old life, stories about what the world was like before Sorey was born. He laughs and affectionately calls Sorey naive, calls him young, even as he passes into his sixth century. We're unchanging to an extent, maybe, but I think you'll always be young no matter what.
Sorey told him he didn't want to hear that from someone whose voice hasn't even deepened and Maotelus pretended to sulk for almost four full years.
When Sorey becomes unable to feel the edges of the tainted world, he knows his time asleep as an observer is coming to an end. He's done all that he can; Maotelus knows he can't stay here forever, that no matter how powerful either of them are, Sorey can't do the impossible and purify the whole world just by remaining asleep. That everything is cyclical only when it's not, and that maybe Sorey can do more good in the world if he's awake for just a few decades more, to tell people what he saw, to pass on what he knows.
I love you, Sorey thinks even as sleep takes him further and further from Maotelus, I'll miss you.
Don't be silly, Maotelus chides. I'll always be right beside you.
- - -
Sorey wakes.
It takes some time, but he makes his way out of the crater. The air smells clean in a way he can just barely remember from Gramps's domain in Elysia and he breathes it in fully. His body is the same as it was when he went to sleep; clothes ripped and dirty, muscles sore. Seventeen and human, but he remembers everything, remembers centuries of watching, waiting, talking with Maotelus. He knows that at any given point one of his friends is watching over him, and knows that it's just a matter of time until he's found.
So he plucks a few apples from a tree, chooses a flat stone to sit down on, and waits. They'll find him before he finds them, now that he's just a regular human again, so he should make it easy and stop moving around.]
The plan had been simple, though Sorey hadn't known if it would work; act as Maotelus's vessel, cut off all his senses, and exist as a living pulse of purification. If he slept he wouldn't change, if he slept within Maotelus's domain he (hopefully) wouldn't die. It would mean he would be lost to the ravages of time, left behind by everything he knows, but this way he could eliminate at least a little bit more of the suffering the world had already endured. Maybe it's fueled in part by ego. Maybe he just can't leave things alone for someone else to clean up. Either way, Sorey closes his eyes and prepares to rest.
Only...he doesn't.
He doesn't dream, he doesn't experience some other world or existence; what he feels instead is a spread. His eyes aren't his and he can't choose what to focus on, and sometimes he hears things and sometimes he doesn't. For decades at a time all he hears is the slow growth of earth around the crater, vegetation creeping in and animals settling within it, rain trickling down to form a lake that empties over time during the more severe droughts. Sorey feels Glendwood change around him (and it becomes other names, Nothrand, Lilium, Morensa) and he realizes, an embarrassing few centuries later, that he's not awake but he's experiencing the world through Maotelus's blessing.
It's surprisingly soothing. Even when he watches civilizations build and crumble, Maotelus is there with him to talk him through the agony of observing war. It's hard, he says in his childlike voice, seated in Sorey's lap in the shared spaces of their souls, leaning his head back against his chest, it's hard just to watch, but sometimes people don't want to have peace. Freedom is the most important. You have to remember that.
Maotelus tells him stories about his old life, stories about what the world was like before Sorey was born. He laughs and affectionately calls Sorey naive, calls him young, even as he passes into his sixth century. We're unchanging to an extent, maybe, but I think you'll always be young no matter what.
Sorey told him he didn't want to hear that from someone whose voice hasn't even deepened and Maotelus pretended to sulk for almost four full years.
When Sorey becomes unable to feel the edges of the tainted world, he knows his time asleep as an observer is coming to an end. He's done all that he can; Maotelus knows he can't stay here forever, that no matter how powerful either of them are, Sorey can't do the impossible and purify the whole world just by remaining asleep. That everything is cyclical only when it's not, and that maybe Sorey can do more good in the world if he's awake for just a few decades more, to tell people what he saw, to pass on what he knows.
I love you, Sorey thinks even as sleep takes him further and further from Maotelus, I'll miss you.
Don't be silly, Maotelus chides. I'll always be right beside you.
Sorey wakes.
It takes some time, but he makes his way out of the crater. The air smells clean in a way he can just barely remember from Gramps's domain in Elysia and he breathes it in fully. His body is the same as it was when he went to sleep; clothes ripped and dirty, muscles sore. Seventeen and human, but he remembers everything, remembers centuries of watching, waiting, talking with Maotelus. He knows that at any given point one of his friends is watching over him, and knows that it's just a matter of time until he's found.
So he plucks a few apples from a tree, chooses a flat stone to sit down on, and waits. They'll find him before he finds them, now that he's just a regular human again, so he should make it easy and stop moving around.]
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Zaveid has done things, of course, to occupy his mind. He travelled with the Shepherds for a while, one after another, being passed along like an old weapon until he was too old and too tired and too heartsick to keep going. Watching himself get close to humans and then watching them die... It was too much. So he travelled, went back to being alone, came and checked in on Sorey and Lailah and the others and never really drifted too far. He had nowhere else he wanted to go or wanted to be and he was happy with that; he was fine, accepting this as the path he was going to walk, in exile but not alone.
Time doesn't really move for Seraphim the same way it does for humans, after all; things aren't quite that simple, and it goes on and on without him being entirely aware of what's happening. Zaveid lives it and he doesn't quite realise just how long things have gone on until someone mentions it and then he's a little bit baffled by it. He feels older now than he ever did before, as if his bones are creaking even though he's well aware that he's still fairly young in the terms if immortal Seraphim. Perhaps it's just how much he's seen, how much he's lived - or maybe it's just because he's been waiting for such a long time, waiting for one ridiculous boy to wake up from his nap.
(Well, two of them, if he's being honest, but he's aware that he's more likely to see Sorey than he is Laphicet, no matter how close he wants to get to Maotelus, the kid he knew once upon a time).
When it comes, it's not a tidal wave of power or something breaking on the edge of the crater. It's nothing that huge, really, and it shouldn't surprise him even though it does. What he feels, instead, is something soft and gentle unfurling in his chest and something prickling at his senses, suddenly on high alert as he drinks the wind in. It seems to whisper to him and before he knows it he's on his feet, pushing himself up and dipping down and through the tangled overgrowth that protects the Shepherd's rest.
The feeling doesn't move or change, not really, but Zaveid rides the wind anyway, a whirlwind of artes as he presses through and seeks out that tug on his heart, the gentle reminder of something incredible that he had almost forgotten about. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels desperate with it, something intense and dangerous prickling at him, some kind of fear that if he doesn't get there fast enough, if he's not there soon enough, something terrible will happen. He was always too slow before but he can't let that happen again, never again -
He breaks through and he sees Sorey and for a moment he feels completely and utterly breathless, buoyed on his feelings and hanging on the edge of a cliff, close to stepping off and tumbling forward into a world he's been waiting for. Eventually, he manages to catch his breath and, when he does, his face cracks into a wide grin and he strides forward, suddenly filled with that oh so familiar bluster. ]
Sorey.
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While he'd been able to watch the world in all his time with Maotelus, he'd only barely seen his friends. He couldn't choose where to focus, only capable of watching the world crawl by as an unmoving spectator. He hasn't seen Zaveid since he was last with a Shepherd, hundreds of hears ago now.]
Hi, Zaveid. [Sorey smiles, slowly standing on still unsteady legs before taking a few shuffling steps toward him. His vision blurs before he realizes his eyes are filling with tears at the sight of his familiar friend, now a thousand years separated, and he reaches out toward him.]
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It's been so long that Zaveid's felt it as actual time, stretching out in front of him; it's been centuries, really, and it's been a long, long wait. The fact that Sorey is back at all is enough to be something of a shock and he feels a prickle of something, a little like tears, and he feels his heart thud hard and fast in his chest, his eyes dancing over the human. He still looks so young, as fresh faced as ever, and he shakes his head as he steps forward.
There's no pause, at least, as he bends down and wraps his arms around him, dragging him close. His fingers move down and press against the small of Sorey's back even as he breathes him in, eyes closing. Sorey is real, he thinks, and it baffles him even as he basks, like sunlight breaking over a hill. ] You're late.
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Home.
Zaveid feels like home. The warmth of his skin, the silky softness of his hair against the backs of Sorey's hands, the way he smells like the air just before a storm, charged and ready to gust.
Sorey presses a little closer, hiding his face in Zaveid's chest again, and finally allows his emotions to overcome him again now that they're all his again, now that he's no longer a vessel to anything but his own spirit and will endanger nobody by allowing himself his longing.]
I've missed you- oh Lords, I've missed all of you so much.
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(It doesn't matter that Zaveid was just as invested in Maotelus, that he cared just as much - he had missed Sorey, and the others had been desperate to see him back. It was sore and painful and he needed his Shepherd. A replacement wasn't good enough.)
He holds onto Sorey, stroking his fingers over whatever he can find - his hair, his back, whatever parts that he can use to make sure that Sorey is real and whole and not something he's going to be forced to give up any time soon. When he speaks his voice is a touch hoarse with emotion and he squeezes him gently, not letting him go. ]
I missed you too. [ Why bother hiding it? ] It's been too damn long. Maotelus treat you right?
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He did, [Sorey assures him, grin a little crooked.] We gossiped about you. He said you looked like you let yourself go a little wild.
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Aw, I can't believe he gossiped about me! [ Jeez! That kid... ] I could tell you plenty of stories too. He better be listening!
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I wouldn't say no to hearing them, [Sorey grins, opening his eyes and patting Zaveid's cheeks affectionately.] Maotelus is probably paying attention; he asked me to tell you that he misses you, but he's doing okay.
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He doesn’t want to think about what that really means. When hands touch his face he breathes out, his wind practically skipping with joy around him. ]
I’m sure we’ll get around to it. He was a nightmare, really, I gotta tell you. [ There’s something more important now, though, and Zaveid glances back to where he knows Maotelus is, his heart heavy. ] I’m glad he’s happy. I glad he took care of you for me.
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...C'mon, Zaveid. [Sorey lets his hand trail down his arm, slips his fingers into Zaveid's grip and gives him a tug.] Unless you'd like some time to say goodbye?
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The hand on his arm, the fingers in his, snaps him out of his thoughts and he looks down at Sorey, expression softening. ] No, I'm good. I said my goodbyes a long time ago. [ He tugs back. ] Lead the way.
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Kyme and everybody is there, minus one sorely-missed familiar face. Everyone gathers in the center of the village to celebrate, lighting bonfires and roasting boars, telling stories and playing music. It causes such a ruckus that some of the humans from the village at the foot of the mountain wander up to investigate. Sorey almost cries when he sees the humans talking to his family like normal. Sure, he'd seen resonance developing in human generations, even had a hand in that himself, but it's another thing entirely to experience the result. Overwhelmed, he wanders off in search of Zaveid as his family tell the village chief and his daughters what's happened.]
Zaveid? Where'd you go?
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He almost doesn't notice when the man in question starts looking around for him and he tilts his head, glancing down for a moment. ]
Yo. Over here.
[ He lifts a hand to wave, his feathers fluttering in the light wind. ]
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He comes up to Zaveid's side and leans against it, head against his shoulder as he stares out across the sky.] ...there's humans talking to everyone. Zaveid, I'm so happy...
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Funny how that works. ] Yeah. I guess your dream really did come true, huh? [ He looks out at the people and tilts his head, hair falling over his shoulders. ] They're happy.
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Yeah? [ Reaching up, he ruffles his hair. ] I'm glad I found you too.
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Instead he turns a little ways from the hill.] Could I get you to come with me? I'd like to talk to you about something.
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It's easier, he thinks, to just. Follow. ] Sure. Let's go.
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