@virtuti | Survival Starter
Moons had passed since it happened. Even so, Rothalion had certainly caught glimpses of the man in the later months taking walks about the city - and completely left him be. Though he knew what he did was something he had to, it didn’t change that fact that much of his retaliation that day had been rage and not duty. The moment his feet touched Azys Lla that night, there was only rage. White hot anger, eyes blazing and body moving on its own if only to find them. Zephirin was just as much of a target as the Archbishop, one he was bound to slaughter in cold blood in revenge.
Just like Nidhogg.
It is this fact that settles a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt guilt for how he lashed out at a man who was only doing what he thought was right, tempered or not, just as Rothalion acted on his own moral compass. Even so, he felt sick thinking of what happened for so very long, his heart aching and throat closing in the wake of memories bittersweet. Rothalion didn’t cry, but he had back then. He still wanted to. Even with what weight he carried on shoulders did he come to realize, as matters grew more tense - abruptly breaking just days before into full scale slaughter all over again - that he couldn’t simply leave loose ends anymore. There were too many, ends long lost in the past that forever touched his mind at inopportune times and made pushing forward difficult. He knew his friend would be unhappy knowing he had carried such darkness within himself for long, how bitterly he had once looked upon Zephirin and allowed a grudge to settle towards the man who, of all people, survived.
So he visited. Rothalion stepped quietly into the room he had been directed to, where he was told Zephirin would oft reside. He knew not the man’s health or what he did since the reformation and the peace formed between Ishgard and the Dravanians; at the time it hadn’t mattered to him. He didn’t care. At least now he would make an effort... his heart had finally settled, and now all he felt was hollow, sadness.
“It has been a while, yes...?” He spoke finally to break the silence, though any tension within the room was not his own he suspected Zephirin would have many reasons to feel disdain in his presence. He frowned, gaze dropping to the floor and arms limp at his sides. “... The tension finally broke. I wished, before I leave in but a moon’s time, to make peace with you. To apologize, for what I did to your brethren and for taking so long to reach out. I... never wanted it to end the way it did. I only wish I had known, and that I could have said something. Maybe...” Maybe they’d still be alive. Maybe his friend, both of his friends, would still be alive - but they weren’t. He glanced to the side, slumping his shoulders.
“You need not forgive me so soon - or at all. I only... I wish for you to know I’m sorry, and to attempt at least to move forward on better ground.”
