He'd observed them from afar for some time now: A group of would-be heroes led by Her Champion. They'd meddled handily with plans on the Source and now they'd committed themselves to 'fixing' the ruined shard of the First. How annoyingly noble.
Of course, the lot seemed disinclined to accept his proposed idea of 'cooperation' with one another. So, until their opinions could be melded to his liking or their worthiness proven, he sought to busy himself in other ways. Let them waste time in their pointless crusade of vanquishing the Light Warden's.
Today he sought something else: the Moon of the first.
Where the Moon on the source served as a seal for their Dark God, it remained to be seen what the state of the Moon on this broken husk would be. Has its aether begun to return to Zodiark, or does it remain?
And so through significant effort he sought answers. A whirl of darkness appears on the Moonshards 'surface' and Emet-Selch slips through its winding tendrils. He hovers just above a cavernous black abyss that had enveloped a large part of the moon's center. Cracks snake their way across the surface and like a wound and darkness churns violently beneath him. The aether trailed upward and spiraled wildly through the air into the unseen.
"So that's how it is..." Emet-Selch says with a wistful sigh. "The aether has begun to stray from this broken husk. Though I want nothing more for it to return to whence it came, now is not the time." He holds a hand out and tiredly gestures for the aether to pool at his side. He would need to seal it here for the time being, lest it disperse back into the Lifestream or some other unforeseen place. "For the time being, let us give you a form to hold onto." So he begins to conjure a seal.
In the aether, he could feel the familiar presence of those he knew, and his mind began to stray to better times...a dangerous recipe for conjuring unintentional forms.
The tendrils of aether stroke softly at Emet-Selch's hands, a fond gesture, as it rises and takes shape. As he thinks on those better times the particular aether of one soul is drawn to the familiar friend that stands so close.
With Emet-Selch distracted, he's unintentionally drawing the aether of that soul ever closer, until finally a pair of purple eyes manifest in the darkness and a far-off voice murmurs something that sounds so much like 'Hades.'
It's too late to stop the process now. The aether has been given form and purpose, and from the wisps of darkness a familiar being steps out.
His steps are uncertain, as if he doesn't understand. And truly, he doesn't. He doesn't know where he is, all he knows is that the soul of his dearest friend was nearby.
His mouth twists as he begins to hear echoes from fragmented souls within the aether. The dreams of his long lost brethren bubble up in the form of disjointed thoughts, words, hopes, and dreams. His mind strays——
Until he hears a voice call to him, muffled but achingly recognizable. A person takes shape before him. It is someone his heart has desperately longed to see, and desire only served to manifest them quicker. There is no hiding the shock on his face or sadness in his eyes as his friend appears before him. Hades, he calls him, and Emet-Selch had all but thought the name lost to time. It feels as though his heart wrenches in his chest.
"So it is..." He mutters. "You've taken your sweet time napping, haven't you. It has been an age and I'd half the mind that you'd never wake." It is all he can think of by way of hello, even if his words are far from chiding. They are words of a fool who desperately missed his friend and longed to reach for him, even if he stays at arms length.
Hythlodaeus wonders for a moment if he's dreaming now. There is his friend, a pained smile on his face, but he looks so very different. And where are they?
He frowns as he tries to recall what he can of his past. The last he remembers, he was offering himself up to Zodiark. And now...
"Yes... I have been slumbering for some time, then?"
It's an honest question. He doesn't know how long it has been. He only knows his friend is here, and the smile he offers him is one of relief. It's good to behold his soul once more.
"Indeed, you have. As have most of our brethren." He says with some amount of trepidation. Now he has awakened this sleeping soul of his dearest friend...and to what? A world that is listing ever toward the light and doomed to die in short order. Emet-Selch silently scolds himself for having made such an egregious mistake. Oh, what has he done?
His eyes soften at his friend fondly in spite of it. Even if his proclivities have gotten the better of him this time, surely enjoying the company of his dear friend for a moment is not too much to ask. It couldn't hurt to indulge in some company while he puzzled over how to fix this. He'd missed him so...
"Although, this is hardly a venue for discussing the particulars of the matter, wouldn't you agree, Hythlodaeus?" The name sounds strange to say out loud after all this time, and he half thinks of it as a way for his friend to confirm that it is, indeed, him. He gestures to the broken moon around them and the swirling darkness that makes the remnants of their people. "Let us away to elsewhere and we might mull the particulars. There is much that needs to be said."
Inclining his head slightly in response to the name, Hythlodaeus moves closer and rests a hand on Emet-Selch's arm. As if twelve thousand years had not passed- because to him, they haven't, really. And yet at the same time, it feels like an age since he heard his name spoken last.
"I see. Very well, then let us quit this place."
He doesn't know where he'll be taken to, but something tells him that what has just happened is an oddity. Emet-Selch seems disturbed... but Hythlodaeus does as he usually would, and comforts him with a smile and a squeeze of his arm.
"'Tis good to see you again, old friend. I would hear whatever it is that you have to say."
There's a hint of consideration before Emet-Selch lifts his hand and places it gingerly atop his friend's forearm. It's become commonplace for others to treat him with such fear and disdain that this familiar gesture seems novel. The small quirk of his lip and the fond glint in his eye is enough to say that it isn't unwelcome, which with Hades is tantamount to approval.
"Before we depart," He begins. "Much has happened after the conjuring of Zodiark. Take heed that our Star and those who dwell upon it are no longer the same as what we held dear." It would take nothing but a glance at the withered people and withered world for Hythlodaeus to understand what that means.
With that, the shadows enveope them and whisk them back to the surface of the Shard. They emerge in a room that is draped in layers of luxurious fabric trimmed in gold and decorated with opulent golden fixtures. The scent of flowers fill the air as do the soft petals that waft in the breeze.
They arrive in the pinnacle of luxury on the First - Eulmore - and the shift in Light aether is immediately oppressive.
Hythlodaeus frowns slightly as Emet-Selch speaks, but nods.
"I see. I suppose I have little choice but to see for myself."
And indeed, as soon as they arrive on the First he winces. For a soul that has spent twelve thousand years slumbering in the deity of Darkness, all of the light is overwhelming. He grips Emet-Selch's arm again, before composing himself and looking around.
The first things he notes are the strange decoration choices here. Then, the scent of flowers. Finally, he shifts his sight to perceive his friend's soul, and catches glimpses of the souls beyond the walls. His eyes widen slightly.
"But... why?"
Hythlodaeus tries to recall what happened... a great battle. The feeling of being split apart, and then naught but slumber... he looks down at himself, and his own soul is just as fractured and dim as the others. Though he keeps quiet, the look on his face likely betrays his anguish.
The way he reaches to help steady his friend is reactionary. The Light is undoubtedly oppressive here, even he has difficulties enduring its constant onslaught of wild aether, but there is little choice in the matter for now.
Emet-Selch's expression shifts as he glimpses the grieved look on his friends face. Ah, he sees it then. It was only a matter of time before he noticed. The withered soul within him is a mere piece of the whole - only one part of the many sundered shards. But how he hoped that this is still the friend he knew...
"My, my, you're not wanting for impatience, are you." The tinge of his voice is facetiously annoyed in order to ease the mood and nothing more. He nods over to a luxurious plush sofa trimmed in a turquoise and gold. "Come, sit with me. I will make you some tea so that we might have a drink while we discuss the last several millennia. It will surely take a while."
Given the current situation, he still manages to smile slightly as Emet-Selch scolds him.
"I'd prefer to call it proactive. Tea sounds... oh, wonderful, however."
He realises he's parched, suddenly. He sits himself down and watches Emet-Selch as he works.
"I like what you've done with your hair, by the by. Very fetching."
It's the most drastic change to Emet-Selch's appearance from a quick glance, but he noticed his eyes first. No longer did they hold their glow, and in fact his aether seems entirely off somehow. It is his soul, but the body is not as he remembers it at all...
And then Emet-Selch mentions several millennia and the easy smile disappears for shock.
"You think so?" With his friend sat down, Emet-Selch makes for the nearby refreshments on a tiny gold serving cart meant for the indentured. He fills a ornate glass vessel with flower petals before pouring hot water over their filter, causing the clear water to bloom with red. The Eulmorean's had their 'chosen' venture into the wilderness to gather fresh flowers for their drinks quite often. These flowers were the last gathered by one such chosen before meeting his fate at the hand of a stray Sin Eater.
"It is by chance rather than intention, I assure you." He lifts the pot by its handle and grabs a stack of cups and saucers with the other hand before taking them both to his friend. The tea is sat down before Emet-Selch sits himself on the plush sofa just beside his friend.
"Now drink. The light aether is oppressive at the best of times and you'll need to fortify your strength to endure it." He sits back and places one hand over his other in a show of habitual polite etiquette. "Given your...present state, you'll not be able to tolerate it in the same way as you would have before."
Hythlodaeus nods, still reeling a little, and takes a sip of his tea once he has it. He muses on the taste for a moment before deciding he rather likes it.
"My present state as a mere fraction of myself, you mean."
Said conversationally, but Emet-Selch will know that it bothers his friend.
"And yet your soul is as hale and whole as it ever was."
He obviously has no way of knowing what happened to Emet-Selch during or after the Sundering.
"Indeed..." He pauses before adding, "One of only two who might still make that claim. The rest do not remember our world as it was long ago. They've become little more than beasts who care for their own primative desires." It's still quite an adjustment to have that number whittled down from the three that remained since time immemorial.
Emet-Selch presses his lips together. There's a question he must ask but he dreads the answer. "You do remember our world, don't you?" There were countless others that seemed so similar to the people he once knew, only for him to find that they did not remember him or their people. If Hythlodaeus suffered the same fate he did not know if he could bear it.
It must truly have been a long time, for Emet-Selch to so hesitantly ask if Hythlodaeus still recalls their world. He nods, and offers a reassuring smile.
"I recall Etheirys, aye. How could I not?"
Humming to himself, he thinks for a moment.
"Though I find it passing strange that I remember and none of these others do. Fractured as I am, one would think my memories would be as lost to time as theirs."
Lilac eyes settle on Emet-Selch again, however, and he seems more at ease.
"Ah, but how could I do aught but respond when your soul was so close? It was like a light, stirring me from a deep sleep. Perhaps the manner in which I have been awakened has something to do with it?"
Emet-Selch takes a sip of tea in hopes that it would prove soothing. His heart lurches with the expectation that Hythlodaeus knew nothing of the world they loved, but by some impossible mercy, his friend seems to be about to recount the world they both knew without issue. He could puzzle over the reasons why later.
For now, this is the first time in so long that someone genuinely remembered and he can't contain how his eyes gleam. "Then you are the only other that truly remembers it. Outside of my own memories, you will find that precious few know about our people."
He takes a moment to compose his thoughts and he closes his eyes while the feeling sits in his chest. This is truly his friend. Here at last. "It's been so long since I've spoken with another who could recall anything. The most I had come to hope for was a vague feeling of familiarity." Something could be said for those who hold the memories of the Convocation crystals, but that can be explained in time.
He takes a breath and opens his eyes. "As for the reason why, let me tell you of the terrible days that followed Zodiark's creation." So he explained the tale of the Star; The peace that followed Zodiark's purpose, the fracturing of their people and the rise of Hydaelyn, and of the feeble creatures that inhabited the world after Zodiark's imprisonment. A cursory summary would do so not to overwhelm his friend.
Hythlodaeus listens intently, and when Emet-Selch is finished he frowns.
"I can hardly believe that Venat would do such a thing, and yet... here we are. So you have spent the last twelve thousand years trying to save our world, with Lahabrea and Elidibus at your side."
And Lahabrea has fallen.
"I am sorry. Such a burden... it should crush any man. But you are no mere man, are you?"
He smiles again, thought it's tinged with sadness on his friend's behalf, reaching out to rest his hand on his arm again.
"You have my thanks. For never giving up."
Of course, to Hythlodaeus, who hasn't met the inhabitants of this world nor the Warrior of Light, it's... easier, somehow, to write them off as the halflings Emet-Selch describes them to be. And yet part of him also feels badly, for some reason. Are they not still people, now? Do they not have their own rich histories and cultures? He looks around the room- who built this place? It's so different from Amaurot. He wants to explore everything, but reigns in the urge.
Emet-Selch glances down at his reflection on the surface of his tea. "I loathe to admit it, but the thought had crossed my mind." His voice turns tired. "How simple it would be to give up, resign to complacency, and find solace on the currents of the sunless sea. It is undoubtedly the more achievable route given the impossible odds of the alternative." Regardless of his friends accolades, he is a man with cursed limitations, and a number of times those limits had been reached.
"However, I could not forget the hopes and dreams of our people. They depend on me to shoulder that burden and I would not see their trust misplaced." His minds eye could still see the faces of those who were so willing to trust their lives to the concept of Zodiark, Hythlodaeus one among a sea of faces. That gaze remains forever etched in his memory.
"I resolved that nothing would stand in my way; Not time, not limitations, and not my own heart. I would tear it all down to see them live again." His voice relets with a brief sigh and he looks at his friend with a expression coached into pleasantry. "You will need to be uncharacteristically patient, but I will see you hale and hole in due time, you have my word."
"I believe you, in any case. If I stick by your side, I am sure you will be true to your word."
Though Hythlodaeus isn't sure what he could do to help, he wants to... and yet, he worries that his gentle soul will not be able to handle eradicating the people of this shard. He isn't like Emet-Selch. He hasn't been tempered by twelve thousand years of suffering, hasn't seen what these people looked like directly after the Sundering. He only sees frail, fragile souls, of which he has one of his own.
"Indeed." By his side, is it? A look of fond regard says he would have it no other way.
"Well!" Emet-Selch says in a chipper tone while sets his cup of tea down on its nearby saucer. "I think that's enough dour chatter for the time being. How do you feel after having sat for a while?" Adjusting to the dense light aether would certainly be a process that takes time - if it is achievable at all - and he's not eager to regale his friend of each miserable detail of the world at once.
No, he's eager to enjoy the simple pleasure of having someone familiar in his company despite the circumstances. It's been so long since he's had the company of a true friend.
"Ah... I still feel a little overwhelmed, truth be told. The tea has helped immensely, however."
He sets his own cup down and smiles warmly at his friend.
"I think I can walk, if you'd like to show me more of this place."
He isn't opposed to resting more either, of course. As long as he gets to see that fond look in Emet-Selch's eye, he's happy. He may have slumbered through the past several millennia but he still feels as though he missed Hades dearly, in his soul if nothing else.
How he wishes that there were happier news to share. It is a considerable amount of change to handle at once, and any reasonable person would find themselves overwhelmed by it all. Emet-Selch's mind lingers on what comfort he could provide to Hythlodaeus that would help in spite of it all. He... briefly considers a tight embrace to reassure him, but that might be too forward for his brethren's sensibilities. Not to mention his own tendency to stray away from such things.
"My apologies." With a small sigh, he makes to stand. Emet-Selch offers his palm to his friend to help him to his feet, unsure how steady he is on his own. "Let us take the sights while you gain your bearings. I dare say you will be intrigued with how our brethren's creations have found use."
The way he emphasizes the word implies there may be many interesting interpretations.
He gives a playful sigh at being clung to. "Oh, bother." Perhaps not fussing any more than that is Emet-Selch's own way of agreeing to it. In any case, he's quick to move on given this 'bothersome' arrangement. By pure habit, Emet-Selch crooks his arm so that Hythlodaeus might hold onto it. It's a common gesture with dignitaries and their spouses that he'd adopted it in the past many years.
"In the City of Eulmore, you'll find a number of flora that is used for decoration. All manner of them are draped from the ceiling and kept in decorative planters. They are so plentiful that their petals will often accumulate on walkways." It kept the city smelling sweet and fortified the feeling of luxury throughout. As Emet-Selch speaks he begins to move toward the grand door, slowly at first, it allows them both the chance to adjust.
"Fauna are few within the city, and those you find here and in the outskirts will have their form warped by the excess of light aether. I bid you stay far away from them."
"Warped, you say? I do wonder what an excess of Light aether would do to a creature, but in my current state I would also rather not find out myself."
He looks around again, and his eyes seem to settle somewhere near where Vauthry would happen to be...
"Oho. And what exactly is this?"
An abundance of Light aether, but it seems to be a person? There are other sources of that same warped aether up there too, and Hythlodaeus makes a face. It's obvious he doesn't like it much.
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For Hythlodaeus (ktizo)
Re: For Hythlodaeus (ktizo)
Of course, the lot seemed disinclined to accept his proposed idea of 'cooperation' with one another. So, until their opinions could be melded to his liking or their worthiness proven, he sought to busy himself in other ways. Let them waste time in their pointless crusade of vanquishing the Light Warden's.
Today he sought something else: the Moon of the first.
Where the Moon on the source served as a seal for their Dark God, it remained to be seen what the state of the Moon on this broken husk would be. Has its aether begun to return to Zodiark, or does it remain?
And so through significant effort he sought answers. A whirl of darkness appears on the Moonshards 'surface' and Emet-Selch slips through its winding tendrils. He hovers just above a cavernous black abyss that had enveloped a large part of the moon's center. Cracks snake their way across the surface and like a wound and darkness churns violently beneath him. The aether trailed upward and spiraled wildly through the air into the unseen.
"So that's how it is..." Emet-Selch says with a wistful sigh. "The aether has begun to stray from this broken husk. Though I want nothing more for it to return to whence it came, now is not the time." He holds a hand out and tiredly gestures for the aether to pool at his side. He would need to seal it here for the time being, lest it disperse back into the Lifestream or some other unforeseen place. "For the time being, let us give you a form to hold onto." So he begins to conjure a seal.
In the aether, he could feel the familiar presence of those he knew, and his mind began to stray to better times...a dangerous recipe for conjuring unintentional forms.
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With Emet-Selch distracted, he's unintentionally drawing the aether of that soul ever closer, until finally a pair of purple eyes manifest in the darkness and a far-off voice murmurs something that sounds so much like 'Hades.'
It's too late to stop the process now. The aether has been given form and purpose, and from the wisps of darkness a familiar being steps out.
His steps are uncertain, as if he doesn't understand. And truly, he doesn't. He doesn't know where he is, all he knows is that the soul of his dearest friend was nearby.
"Hades?"
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Until he hears a voice call to him, muffled but achingly recognizable. A person takes shape before him. It is someone his heart has desperately longed to see, and desire only served to manifest them quicker. There is no hiding the shock on his face or sadness in his eyes as his friend appears before him. Hades, he calls him, and Emet-Selch had all but thought the name lost to time. It feels as though his heart wrenches in his chest.
"So it is..." He mutters. "You've taken your sweet time napping, haven't you. It has been an age and I'd half the mind that you'd never wake." It is all he can think of by way of hello, even if his words are far from chiding. They are words of a fool who desperately missed his friend and longed to reach for him, even if he stays at arms length.
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Hythlodaeus wonders for a moment if he's dreaming now. There is his friend, a pained smile on his face, but he looks so very different. And where are they?
He frowns as he tries to recall what he can of his past. The last he remembers, he was offering himself up to Zodiark. And now...
"Yes... I have been slumbering for some time, then?"
It's an honest question. He doesn't know how long it has been. He only knows his friend is here, and the smile he offers him is one of relief. It's good to behold his soul once more.
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His eyes soften at his friend fondly in spite of it. Even if his proclivities have gotten the better of him this time, surely enjoying the company of his dear friend for a moment is not too much to ask. It couldn't hurt to indulge in some company while he puzzled over how to fix this. He'd missed him so...
"Although, this is hardly a venue for discussing the particulars of the matter, wouldn't you agree, Hythlodaeus?" The name sounds strange to say out loud after all this time, and he half thinks of it as a way for his friend to confirm that it is, indeed, him. He gestures to the broken moon around them and the swirling darkness that makes the remnants of their people. "Let us away to elsewhere and we might mull the particulars. There is much that needs to be said."
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"I see. Very well, then let us quit this place."
He doesn't know where he'll be taken to, but something tells him that what has just happened is an oddity. Emet-Selch seems disturbed... but Hythlodaeus does as he usually would, and comforts him with a smile and a squeeze of his arm.
"'Tis good to see you again, old friend. I would hear whatever it is that you have to say."
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"Before we depart," He begins. "Much has happened after the conjuring of Zodiark. Take heed that our Star and those who dwell upon it are no longer the same as what we held dear." It would take nothing but a glance at the withered people and withered world for Hythlodaeus to understand what that means.
With that, the shadows enveope them and whisk them back to the surface of the Shard. They emerge in a room that is draped in layers of luxurious fabric trimmed in gold and decorated with opulent golden fixtures. The scent of flowers fill the air as do the soft petals that waft in the breeze.
They arrive in the pinnacle of luxury on the First - Eulmore - and the shift in Light aether is immediately oppressive.
no subject
"I see. I suppose I have little choice but to see for myself."
And indeed, as soon as they arrive on the First he winces. For a soul that has spent twelve thousand years slumbering in the deity of Darkness, all of the light is overwhelming. He grips Emet-Selch's arm again, before composing himself and looking around.
The first things he notes are the strange decoration choices here. Then, the scent of flowers. Finally, he shifts his sight to perceive his friend's soul, and catches glimpses of the souls beyond the walls. His eyes widen slightly.
"But... why?"
Hythlodaeus tries to recall what happened... a great battle. The feeling of being split apart, and then naught but slumber... he looks down at himself, and his own soul is just as fractured and dim as the others. Though he keeps quiet, the look on his face likely betrays his anguish.
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Emet-Selch's expression shifts as he glimpses the grieved look on his friends face. Ah, he sees it then. It was only a matter of time before he noticed. The withered soul within him is a mere piece of the whole - only one part of the many sundered shards. But how he hoped that this is still the friend he knew...
"My, my, you're not wanting for impatience, are you." The tinge of his voice is facetiously annoyed in order to ease the mood and nothing more. He nods over to a luxurious plush sofa trimmed in a turquoise and gold. "Come, sit with me. I will make you some tea so that we might have a drink while we discuss the last several millennia. It will surely take a while."
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"I'd prefer to call it proactive. Tea sounds... oh, wonderful, however."
He realises he's parched, suddenly. He sits himself down and watches Emet-Selch as he works.
"I like what you've done with your hair, by the by. Very fetching."
It's the most drastic change to Emet-Selch's appearance from a quick glance, but he noticed his eyes first. No longer did they hold their glow, and in fact his aether seems entirely off somehow. It is his soul, but the body is not as he remembers it at all...
And then Emet-Selch mentions several millennia and the easy smile disappears for shock.
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"It is by chance rather than intention, I assure you." He lifts the pot by its handle and grabs a stack of cups and saucers with the other hand before taking them both to his friend. The tea is sat down before Emet-Selch sits himself on the plush sofa just beside his friend.
"Now drink. The light aether is oppressive at the best of times and you'll need to fortify your strength to endure it." He sits back and places one hand over his other in a show of habitual polite etiquette. "Given your...present state, you'll not be able to tolerate it in the same way as you would have before."
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"My present state as a mere fraction of myself, you mean."
Said conversationally, but Emet-Selch will know that it bothers his friend.
"And yet your soul is as hale and whole as it ever was."
He obviously has no way of knowing what happened to Emet-Selch during or after the Sundering.
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Emet-Selch presses his lips together. There's a question he must ask but he dreads the answer. "You do remember our world, don't you?" There were countless others that seemed so similar to the people he once knew, only for him to find that they did not remember him or their people. If Hythlodaeus suffered the same fate he did not know if he could bear it.
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"I recall Etheirys, aye. How could I not?"
Humming to himself, he thinks for a moment.
"Though I find it passing strange that I remember and none of these others do. Fractured as I am, one would think my memories would be as lost to time as theirs."
Lilac eyes settle on Emet-Selch again, however, and he seems more at ease.
"Ah, but how could I do aught but respond when your soul was so close? It was like a light, stirring me from a deep sleep. Perhaps the manner in which I have been awakened has something to do with it?"
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For now, this is the first time in so long that someone genuinely remembered and he can't contain how his eyes gleam. "Then you are the only other that truly remembers it. Outside of my own memories, you will find that precious few know about our people."
He takes a moment to compose his thoughts and he closes his eyes while the feeling sits in his chest. This is truly his friend. Here at last. "It's been so long since I've spoken with another who could recall anything. The most I had come to hope for was a vague feeling of familiarity." Something could be said for those who hold the memories of the Convocation crystals, but that can be explained in time.
He takes a breath and opens his eyes. "As for the reason why, let me tell you of the terrible days that followed Zodiark's creation." So he explained the tale of the Star; The peace that followed Zodiark's purpose, the fracturing of their people and the rise of Hydaelyn, and of the feeble creatures that inhabited the world after Zodiark's imprisonment. A cursory summary would do so not to overwhelm his friend.
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"I can hardly believe that Venat would do such a thing, and yet... here we are. So you have spent the last twelve thousand years trying to save our world, with Lahabrea and Elidibus at your side."
And Lahabrea has fallen.
"I am sorry. Such a burden... it should crush any man. But you are no mere man, are you?"
He smiles again, thought it's tinged with sadness on his friend's behalf, reaching out to rest his hand on his arm again.
"You have my thanks. For never giving up."
Of course, to Hythlodaeus, who hasn't met the inhabitants of this world nor the Warrior of Light, it's... easier, somehow, to write them off as the halflings Emet-Selch describes them to be. And yet part of him also feels badly, for some reason. Are they not still people, now? Do they not have their own rich histories and cultures? He looks around the room- who built this place? It's so different from Amaurot. He wants to explore everything, but reigns in the urge.
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"However, I could not forget the hopes and dreams of our people. They depend on me to shoulder that burden and I would not see their trust misplaced." His minds eye could still see the faces of those who were so willing to trust their lives to the concept of Zodiark, Hythlodaeus one among a sea of faces. That gaze remains forever etched in his memory.
"I resolved that nothing would stand in my way; Not time, not limitations, and not my own heart. I would tear it all down to see them live again." His voice relets with a brief sigh and he looks at his friend with a expression coached into pleasantry. "You will need to be uncharacteristically patient, but I will see you hale and hole in due time, you have my word."
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He's not exactly an impatient man.
"I believe you, in any case. If I stick by your side, I am sure you will be true to your word."
Though Hythlodaeus isn't sure what he could do to help, he wants to... and yet, he worries that his gentle soul will not be able to handle eradicating the people of this shard. He isn't like Emet-Selch. He hasn't been tempered by twelve thousand years of suffering, hasn't seen what these people looked like directly after the Sundering. He only sees frail, fragile souls, of which he has one of his own.
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"Well!" Emet-Selch says in a chipper tone while sets his cup of tea down on its nearby saucer. "I think that's enough dour chatter for the time being. How do you feel after having sat for a while?" Adjusting to the dense light aether would certainly be a process that takes time - if it is achievable at all - and he's not eager to regale his friend of each miserable detail of the world at once.
No, he's eager to enjoy the simple pleasure of having someone familiar in his company despite the circumstances. It's been so long since he's had the company of a true friend.
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He sets his own cup down and smiles warmly at his friend.
"I think I can walk, if you'd like to show me more of this place."
He isn't opposed to resting more either, of course. As long as he gets to see that fond look in Emet-Selch's eye, he's happy. He may have slumbered through the past several millennia but he still feels as though he missed Hades dearly, in his soul if nothing else.
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"My apologies." With a small sigh, he makes to stand. Emet-Selch offers his palm to his friend to help him to his feet, unsure how steady he is on his own. "Let us take the sights while you gain your bearings. I dare say you will be intrigued with how our brethren's creations have found use."
The way he emphasizes the word implies there may be many interesting interpretations.
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"You'll keep me steady- won't you, dear friend?"
It's not just an excuse, he really doesn't know if he could handle walking too far on his own.
"I certainly am curious. What creations have found their way here, then?"
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"In the City of Eulmore, you'll find a number of flora that is used for decoration. All manner of them are draped from the ceiling and kept in decorative planters. They are so plentiful that their petals will often accumulate on walkways." It kept the city smelling sweet and fortified the feeling of luxury throughout. As Emet-Selch speaks he begins to move toward the grand door, slowly at first, it allows them both the chance to adjust.
"Fauna are few within the city, and those you find here and in the outskirts will have their form warped by the excess of light aether. I bid you stay far away from them."
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He looks around again, and his eyes seem to settle somewhere near where Vauthry would happen to be...
"Oho. And what exactly is this?"
An abundance of Light aether, but it seems to be a person? There are other sources of that same warped aether up there too, and Hythlodaeus makes a face. It's obvious he doesn't like it much.
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