This scar I can't reverse, when the more it heals the worse it hurts
Remi chuckles softly at Liam’s sheepishness, shaking his head with easy warmth. "It’s not rude," he says. "I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t expect questions." His sea-glass eyes drift again toward the crimson river, as if the shifting reflection might help him untangle the story. "Ludo and I go back longer than most would expect. Before I was its demigod, I gave it a favour. A pretty significant one, actually."
His tone grows a touch wry, the corners of his mouth tilting upward faintly. "It brought a friend of mine back from the dead. Or… part of her. She came back as my companion—a unicorn. I didn’t know then how clever the herald could be with its wording." He runs a hand back through his curls, ruffling them further. "Years later, Ludo called in the favour. Made me its demigod. For a while, I was... its blade, I suppose. I’d be sent to find people who were going to die badly—burning, drowning, torn apart—and I’d ease them out before it got too awful. My magic then was illusion and memory. I’d make the place feel like home, bring in someone they loved, try to... soften the way out."
Remi’s voice stays calm, steady, but there’s a weight in it. Something carved in with time and wear. "But it’s hard to keep your head above water when all you do is usher people into the end. The world starts looking darker. Smaller. Like everything is just something waiting to die." His thumb taps absently against his leg before he offers a dry, not unkind smile. "Ludo... didn’t like that. Said I wasn’t fun anymore. So it gave me to Mort."
His tone grows a touch wry, the corners of his mouth tilting upward faintly. "It brought a friend of mine back from the dead. Or… part of her. She came back as my companion—a unicorn. I didn’t know then how clever the herald could be with its wording." He runs a hand back through his curls, ruffling them further. "Years later, Ludo called in the favour. Made me its demigod. For a while, I was... its blade, I suppose. I’d be sent to find people who were going to die badly—burning, drowning, torn apart—and I’d ease them out before it got too awful. My magic then was illusion and memory. I’d make the place feel like home, bring in someone they loved, try to... soften the way out."
Remi’s voice stays calm, steady, but there’s a weight in it. Something carved in with time and wear. "But it’s hard to keep your head above water when all you do is usher people into the end. The world starts looking darker. Smaller. Like everything is just something waiting to die." His thumb taps absently against his leg before he offers a dry, not unkind smile. "Ludo... didn’t like that. Said I wasn’t fun anymore. So it gave me to Mort."
REMI
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
