#dutysend

He would rather do something productive, of course. After being assaulted by a barrage of questions by an adventurer - still green behind the ears, still with that charming glint in his eyes that invited the entire world to go against him, as danger would only pose an additional challenge - there was a weird, unsettling silence.

Certainly others would not mind if he used the kitchen, right? Busy hands make for a busy mind, and he would simply have to apologize for any trouble. He was surprised at the acceptance of his offer to help, and in no time at all the entire group saw an increase in productivity - along with a select number of bowls full of stew and freshly baked bread. The journey back was uneventful, the Au Ra more than capable of carrying the food back. There were familiar faces somewhat in the Rising Stones, and without asking he simply would offer food. Life had a way to improve despite its many imposed trials, and kindness was always something to be cherished. 

So it is no surprise he approaches a man whose name he does not recall, but that has been constantly in the background. For how long he also does not remember, but he greets the stranger with a smile and a plate of warm food. There is no hidden intent behind the gesture as Aeron also places recently baked bread on the table, but his expression makes it clear that food is meant to be consumed. After all, who can fight on an empty stomach?

His tone is something approaching soft, hesitant in picking his words. They were still unfamiliar to him, but efforts would always be made. To close the gap, to remind others that people were not so different after all. That warm smile follows suit. It always does. Something that runs so contrary to such an initially imposing and intimidating person. There is always kindness within. 

“You should eat. After so many hours in this place, it is good to rest. Vohtii says that working on an empty stomach is awful; and he is right.”

There is little that Fleur wants to say to the Ascian in front of her, little that she could say, now that she thinks about it. For all her posturing, the weight of all those she’s killed weighs heavy on her still.

Fleur sighs.

//. @dutysend // rham’ir’s apollo’s opinion // elidibus

     The rains have long fallen hard, seemingly without cease. And such prolonged exposure will gather mists to fog the senses. Slowly, the ground will begin to flood until it gives way for liquefaction, and one finds themselves sinking, slowly, but surely, until they are neck deep and helpless to the standing water around their head. When one is stuck with no options, save to succumb to one’s environs, one experiences the frenzied allocation of grief in intense bouts of emotion, with intervals of blank, unfeeling doom. Loneliness, pain, bitterness and despair are what I feel when I think of Elidibus.

     He was younger than the rest of us. And so innocent. Eager to prove himself and to be the best at his ushered position. I adored him. I cherished and treasured him. I also may have influenced him in ways I really shouldn’t have. And I can only sit here and dread that those influences are what drove him to become the Heart of Zodiark. In hindsight, there was no better option, and I say that with the firm and absolute knowledge that summoning Him was, by far, the worst decision they had ever made. Even now, I cry out my anguish at their choice to throw away the heart of the star and befit it with something artificial. Something grotesque. I fear that our star had fallen ill. But you cannot heal one disease by supplanting it with another.

     I had not been informed of his sacrifice until after its occurrence. Oh how furious I was... How dare they! How dare the Convocation not notify me of this! Elidibus was not just Elidibus, he was not just our Emissary, but he was our friend! He was my friend! And one of my most beloved... The news was as a knife in my heart and throat both. My last words to him were ‘I’m sorry. But I will not be party to this madness. I cannot.’ No words of undying love. Or affirmation or affection. But disdain. Defeat. Abandonment... In leaving the Convocation, I had abandoned him. I abandoned Hades. And how the very act of it consumed me with grief. I loved every single one of them. But Elidibus and Hades... It’s a wound upon my soul that will never heal.

     When I look upon Elidibus as he is now, I am angered. I am just as angered as I was back then, eons upon eons ago, when he returned as the Heart of Zodiark. I refused to believe that he was the true Elidibus. And I believe so now. The Elidibus I knew and loved is gone. There may be peaks and glints of him within the shell, but he is a shell nonetheless. He went into the night as a strong young man with conviction and devotion to his cause and his people. A desire to help. For those we have lost, and those whom we may yet save. And he came out a false idol. A shepherd ready to sheer his sheep of all they had. Zodiark makes a mockery of my friends. My beloved. And my little brother. Both of whom I loved with the entirety of my soul. Even fractured as I am, these bitter pains still echo with a fresh soreness that is bone-deep, radiating and burning.

     How I long to return to the minutes where it was not yet too late. Where we still had a chance to avert calamitous upheaval. Would that I had been stronger and wiser, to assuage my brothers’ and sisters’ fears, and to earn the confidence of Elidibus. I failed. Every achievement I had ever accomplished, every war that I had settled, every life that I had saved... Every cure that I created. Everything that I had ever done. It all meant nothing in the end. And my dearest Elidibus and my most beloved Hades... They, along with old Lahabrea--Oh, my most respected and loved Lahabrea, I’m so, so sorry--they all suffered for it. They suffered for so long. Would that I could take their eons’ worth of pain away. Would that I could soothe their hearts and their souls, and in spite of my defection, ask them to trust in me a second time. Trust that I will deliver this star from the brink. I cannot bring back what we once had. But please...

“Do you never tire of this? This constant, endless struggle?”

It was hard to say who was asking the question - The Exarch? Or G’raha Tia. The same soul stretched thin and spread across endless amounts of time and space, forced to grow old and weary and tired in the course of his duty to protect and save the Warrior of Light.

@dutysend​ said:  ❝ i know who you are. what you are. ❞

[ Clearing out old messages. ]

╰◌♞

  The word BEAST suited him better than CHAMPION. The word KILLER fit better than HERO. And SWORD was better than WARRIOR. Mayhap that was his destiny, created even by Hydaelyn Herself. Her chosen, forged in blood and fire. Made with sorrow and rage. His will may or may not be his own, but this HATRED was HIS. The white-hot anger he felt as he saw this BASTARD using his friend’s body. He had been USED enough. Adrbert had SUFFERED enough. And this coward was so low as to create illusions of those he loved to SLAY. He did so, despite his shaking. Despite the hurt. Just like always, he fought through the pain and the fear. He fought. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving. Keep fighting. Like a good warrior. Like a good WEAPON. 

  Hatred burned in his eyes. He pitied them, he really did. The isolation and loss. He can understand to an extent. He had lost his family and it changed him so much that he didn’t even know who he was before that. They had lost more than he had. And yet, he was moving on. They refused. Claimed those he loved had no right to exist. As finite as their existences were, he knew they mattered. Every smile. Every tear. He would never allow the Ascians to win. Because he SWORE to protect those he held dear. And in that was, Elidibus was correct. There was no compromise. There was no middle ground. There one only one living and the other dying. 

 “Yeah. You do.” He says, his tone calm despite the storm beneath his skin. More than almost anyone, he did. Roi was not ignorant to his nature, nor his role. “Everything you said is true.” He HATES himself for it. He truly does. Roi Coello is an ugly person. Despite what people say, he is no hero. They cannot see the darkness inside his heart. But if he can wield his rage as a weapon and use his pain as a shield, he will protect those he can. 

BEING HUMAN SENTENCE STARTERS

Accepting @dutysend​ said:  'there wasn’t a single bit of that sentence i understood.' 

“ Well, excuse me, Princess.” Nabriales snapped, the look of impatience on his face. “ I’m not well versed in the whale speak you presundered lot use.” He rolled his eyes and looked back to the Amaurotine, he wasn’t sure why he was even bothering to speak to the natives, they were just puppets. Emet-Selch’s dolls he brought to life. 

“ I’ll ask again, did you see the Warrior of Light come through here?” he asked, only to get a blank stare in return. 

@dutysend​┊✧┊real hilo / nps ships rating hours┊✧┊ACC.