The sea stretches before him, from one side of his horizon to the other-- wide, unfathomable, constant and unwavering in its motion. It fills his senses like nothing else, even when he pulls himself from its embrace to settle on the sand instead, and for once he feels unburdened-- steady yet weightless, and free in a way his viciously intimate relationship with harsh realities has never allowed.
The breeze that drifts off the waves washes over him, cooling against ocean-salted scarred skin as the sound of the tide lapping at the shoreline drowns out the replay of their most recent battle in his mind. Clear, blue-green waters glitter like a million jewels in the warm golden light of the setting sun, and sitting here, soaking it all in beside Tempest, after everything they've gone through in their tangled-together lifetimes, feels almost unreal.
Almost, because no matter how light his shoulders and heart might feel, how unlikely and hard-fought and thrilling their victory still feels, the pain will always remind him. Always keep him present and tie him back down to physicality. That chronic sharpened tightness in his chest always returns as the adrenaline and endorphins die; sometimes enough to buckle him, sometimes barely there, but never entirely gone.
He breathes deep, trying to even out the swell and contraction of his lungs to mitigate the stabbing twist in the scar tissue, and though the fatigue doesn't fade, the ache eventually dulls down to normal.
Tempest is looking at him, he notes from the corner of his eye, and it isn't the first time he's caught his companion taking notice of the state he's in without asking. But it is perhaps the first time Vel would have answered him if he had.
He deserves to know eventually, doesn't he? Especially now that returning to Hanazira is something they plan on doing together. At least he knows some of what to expect from the other's goals there-- Tempest should know what might be waiting there for him too.
Maybe he already has some idea, though, given how easily he seems to put things together-- even when Vel's words fail him. Ever since that conversation they had, he looks at Vel like he's never understood anything better.
There was a time where that wouldn't have felt nearly as comforting as it does now. Where Tempest was supposed to be just another body at the end of his blade, just another set of eyes to watch the life drain out of. Vel was a living tool, rented out to spill blood without question and collect his payment in gore-red hands at the end of the day. Someone looking at him the way Tempest does now would have broken that tool.
He wants to see that look on Tempest's true face.
However, his train of thought breaks then, along with the comfortable quiet of the beach-- courtesy of what is likely the most concerning statement his counterpart has made to date. The nature of sacrifice-- just the sentence alone, coming from Tempest, sets off alarm bells. Vel turns his head to properly lay his eyes on the man beside him, gaze narrowing, brows screwing up into a deep furrow as frowning lips part to fire back--
Only to be cut off as his friend continues, light laughter filling the brief pause before he expounds on the true purpose of his words.
"Hell of a conversation starter if you didn't want me to give you a look." Vel grumbles in response, venomless even with his ears flattening back against his hair. The unexpected burst of concern simmers down into a soft shade of reproach, yet he doesn't move an inch from Tempest's side, following his gaze back out towards the darkening glow of the horizon. "...The one thing I've wanted most, huh...?"
It isn't an easy question, but it is at the same time, and Vel considers it deeply despite not having the faintest idea of its purpose. He still doesn't know exactly what that one thing really is for him either, but he certainly has a better idea of it now than he did when they first arrived in Aerath.
When he looks back at Tempest here and now, he thinks this might be the closest he's ever been to knowing that answer.
"I think," He breathes the words like they're breakable. Like despite the brief hint of humor, the true weight of the question isn't something to underestimate. "That if something like that is what I'd gain, even if I had everything but that in what I'd have to give up...Mm. I'd do it."
Vel's answer rings confident and true, surprising even himself with his certainty. Giving up everything he had once been is more familiar to him than wanting, but the more he thinks about it lately, the more he's glad he stood up that day. The more sure he is that he would do it again.
And as he speaks now, he's never been more sure of anything. "Maybe everything else I've ever been is worth sacrificing... If it doesn't have the one thing you want most, then why would you keep it when you have the other option?"
