REMI
the bastion
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
Remi sits like stone, his presence little more than a shadow at the edge of the world Sohalia is momentarily allowed to touch. Through the bond between companion and bonded, through the golden light of Mort’s realm, he can feel the flicker of their reunion like warmth on skin just beyond reach—a balm for grief, edged with the ache of goodbye.
Only when Tarak retreats and the feathers drift softly to the floor does the Bastion move. He exhales, a slow and quiet breath that seems to carry with it the weight of the moment, the way a tide recedes only once it’s certain the storm has passed. With a gentle gesture, the golden doorway slips shut, light folding in on itself like the end of a dream, until only the hush of the Northaven remains.
He doesn’t speak right away, just clears his throat softly and glances toward Sohalia with an expression full of quiet empathy. "It’s never easy," he says, voice low. "No matter how beautiful the place, or how well we know they’re cared for...it still feels like losing them all over again."
Leaning forward slightly, his fingers steeple loosely between his knees. "But Tarak is only ever a call away, if you need him again." Then, with the faintest tilt of his head: "Would you like to talk about it? Or...can I get you anything?"
Only when Tarak retreats and the feathers drift softly to the floor does the Bastion move. He exhales, a slow and quiet breath that seems to carry with it the weight of the moment, the way a tide recedes only once it’s certain the storm has passed. With a gentle gesture, the golden doorway slips shut, light folding in on itself like the end of a dream, until only the hush of the Northaven remains.
He doesn’t speak right away, just clears his throat softly and glances toward Sohalia with an expression full of quiet empathy. "It’s never easy," he says, voice low. "No matter how beautiful the place, or how well we know they’re cared for...it still feels like losing them all over again."
Leaning forward slightly, his fingers steeple loosely between his knees. "But Tarak is only ever a call away, if you need him again." Then, with the faintest tilt of his head: "Would you like to talk about it? Or...can I get you anything?"
And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?
if you bury them all alone?
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.
