[ Maybe in another lifetime... ]
Rated: T
5.3 SPOILERS
Characters: Azem, WoL, Emet-Selch, Crystal Exarch, Hythlodaeus, OC
[ Maybe in another life... ]
He was always so quiet, so curious. Yet it was his spark of joy that made him shine brightly from the rest. He was known to crack his mask often, the cause a mystery that eluded even the man himself, who was often locked away in his own tower of literature. Opportunities to pursue research were once offered to him in abundance, yet he would decline, as if it were routine, and eventually he would be left to his own devices, peacefully recluse behind books piled so high that they would reach for the shining sky.
It wasn’t that he disliked the company of others; quite the contrary, he loved the exchange of ideas, every transaction a new discovery. It was simply that he sought to pursue topics that were of interest to someone else. Ever hoping for a chance to accompany her on her next journey, the man would find himself engrossed in Azem’s next rumoured pursuit, sometimes unseen by his colleagues for days.
“Cherub, you’ve forgotten to eat.”
A familiar gentle tone dance into his ear, the darkened world blurring into vision as his eyes fluttered open. Standing before him, Hythlodaeus chuckled, knowing this was not the first, nor would it be the last time he would find Cherub asleep at his desk, books featuring various types of grapes filled with notes and markers, showcasing a remarkable amount of meticulous research on this fruit alone. Hythlodaeus quietly placed a bowl of grapes on Cherub’s desk, chuckling as he made he way toward back to the Bureau. “Be mindful of your health, or you’ll make Azem worry, or perhaps even Emet-Selch.” His voice rang clear in Cherub’s memory as bit into the grapes, succulent and full of life.
-
It was one late night, guided by the soft glow of a candlelight that lead to their fateful encounter. Simply seeking a moment of respite, Emet-Selch had escaped from a long meeting with the Convocation, stealing away to the deepest recesses of Akadaemia Anyder. He sought refuge in the arboretum, a room filled with darkness and uninhabited by its caretakers, who would sleep as their subjects would. His footsteps echoing throughout the hall, he made his way toward the balcony, hoping to hide away in the solace of the abyssal night.
It wasn’t until the man seated himself onto a nearby bench did he notice the faint murmur of a familiar blue light behind what appeared to be a makeshift screen comprised of misplaced plant pots and crates. Emet-Selch curiously pursued the source of the light, expecting to find Azem once again experimenting with blue crystals. There had been rumours of a man with an often cracked mask declining invitations from even the most prominent of scholars in favour of working alone, and it was no surprise that Emet-Selch would come across him, ever seeking to avoid interpersonal conversation when possible. What fascinated him more was what he found on the man’s desk: various attempts at recreating a miniature glowing blue crystal accompanied by several crumpled pages of diagrams and scribbles. As his eyes gazed over the contents of the legible papers, he found schematics not only similar to Azem’s own, but notes on how to improve the original design.
Atop a pile of books laid the rumoured cracked mask, a chip hastily mended with some makeshift material. Emet-Selch noticed a journal underneath, some pages held open, and took a could moments to digest its contents. Multiple entries of what Azem has been researching or her latest endeavours. The man had written ideas of where her values would lie, and wrote letters of gratitude, citing that she had inspired him to continue pursuing his research. It was then that the Convocation member realized that this scholar had been instead pursuing all of Azem’s interests. The reason, however eluded him. The man decided to pursue no further as he heard whispers from within the Arboretum, beginning his stealthy escape back home.
In the following months, Emet-Selch had noticed many more encounters with the man. In the depths of the library, under bridges, high up in trees... Always lost in books or scribbling in his journal. They would never speak, their eyes occasionally meeting, but the scholar was always quick to don his chipped mask, especially in the presence of Azem, whom he watched from afar. Whenever he accompanied Azem, Emet-Selch took note of this admirer in his peripheral vision. But it would not end there. Emet-Selch found himself subconsciously seeking the scholar in his moments of solitude, annoyed that the anonymous admirer could be in the vicinity. Yet, he held a strange sense of respect for the man, ever engrossed in his work, in service only to Azem, to whom he had not uttered a single word. It was that perseverance that Emet-Selch applauded for only a moment before finally closing his eyes.
“Cherub, huh...”
*
Eternity passed in an instant, as if he had never lived at all. Time and time ahead did Emet-Selch guide those who had passed, longing for days of eld where peace could only be ended by upcoming thesis deadlines. It wasn’t until he found himself in the body of Solus zos Galvus did the Ascian once again counter traces of Cherub. He found himself wandering The First, curiously watching the Crystal Exarch build his safe haven in a world drowned in light, a fortress of life around the Crystal Tower. It emitted the same blue hue from all those years ago, perfected by Cherub himself, and now it stood tall, the sum of his findings, his research had come to fruition. It pierced the horizon, and like his books, reached for the shining sky.
In the lulls of his work, Emet-Selch found himself looking over to the tower from time to time, on occasion daring to near the vicinity to catch a glimpse of who could have been Cherub. He knew deep in his heart, however, that he was only a fragment of someone he scarcely knew, and that he would not remember anything about his past life... About Azem. It was a painful, yet expected outcome: outliving his allies, ever longing recreating a world that no longer existed. People that he cared for deeply... stars in the night that no longer existed in Norvandt. A light that drowned away his memories, hiding beneath the waves.
Then she came. Azem.
...Or what was left of her.
The sight appalled him for just a moment. In this lifetime, Cherub had found her. There was an indescribable feeling that welled within him. Was it relief? Satisfaction? Curiosity? Or was it jealousy? That this leftover of Azem would instead spend her days returning to this man who masqueraded as Cherub? He had to know. He had to make her remember that she once lived as a complete, perfect being. That was when he appeared to her.
Azem was always the kind of person to pursue as she wished. She was always surrounded by people, something he always loathed about her presence. She always chose the most absurd way to approach her problem, taking matters into her own hands, sometimes with the support of Hythlodaeus. Azem always did things differently ... but he never once faulted her for it. So instead, followed, even at the opposition of her company. Azem was never the type to turn away company, and that had not changed a single bit.
But traces of Cherub found themselves so deeply intertwined with the one called The Crystal Exarch. He would lock himself away for days, ceasing to eat in favour of assisting this fragmented Azem. He instead chose to support her, confidently leading the people of the Crystarium as a sign of hope. He would seek the consult of Azem’s party, something so different yet... so much like Cherub. That was when he watched the events of Mt. Gulg unfold, watching from a safe distance as Azem and her company would mark the fall of Vaulthry at her expense, her mortal body unable to contain the poisonous light that ate at her soul. How dare these pests use what was left of her, knowing well that she would ensure their safety, even if it meant putting her life on the line?!
Even so, Emet-Selch knew that she was not Azem and he was not Cherub. Still, that did not change what his heart desired.
A single gunshot.
With his eyes locked onto the back of The Crystal Exarch, he watched as his crimson robe began to stain with a deeper shade of blood. He knew her fragment would hate him. Her company would hate him. The Exarch would hate him. Knowing all this, he held a smile upon his lips. Yet, deep inside, he mourned gravely.
“Perhaps in another lifetime, I would have met you.”
His eyes were ever fixated on Cherub.
