”I will fight as I did last time,” he said, eyes narrowing as he considered the man across from him. Had Deimos been so blind that he had not seen Jigano’s success against the insects before he had slipped within the hut to protect Amalia, leaving the bugs to Deimos - trusting the other man to be able to handle them? ”In the shape of the snake that can crush and strike faster than a human can move, protected by scales that are less susceptible to the poison than my human skin, and able to hold my breath beyond my human capacity so that I can guard those in my care for longer than even the masks lasted. I can be the first one in to scout if anything has changed that could threaten us, and because of my abilities I will be the last one out.” The last one of those who descended with him, at least, as he had been both previous times he had been in the Spire.
The earthen dome that had covered them completely had hidden Deimos and Vervain from sight, just as Deimos had been unable to see the struggles of those within it. Jigano had been next to Amalia and had heard no screams, only a call – a command – to both of those who had stayed without, too slow to make it into the hut when Delah had raised it. Perhaps Vervain had left first; he’d been focused on other problems at the time, but he didn’t think she had preceded the big man by more than a handful of seconds even so. ”Vai could have called for Safrin,” he said with a sigh, remembering Amalia’s focus on the mind beneath them, and the confident way she had directed them to feed it their memories. She had not cared who had called the goddess, only that it was done.
And look how that had turned out.
”I heard what Kiada said. I heard what you said as well,” Jigano spoke quietly, weariness edging his voice at how round and round they went without making any progress at all. ”My apologies to Zuriel, but from your own words it sounded like you chose to intervene there, instead of using that strength to return to the Spire, whether Kiada would allow it or not.” And there was a true disconnect there, for Jigano had never had anyone who had ever tried to stop him from doing something dangerous, valuing his life above others, the way Kiada apparently had for Deimos. He could hear the words, but not truly picture a situation where a friend could or would choose to stop him in such a way.
”I do not want to think of you as lacking resolve or courage. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, where I can. You left to save your life, because staying any longer in the Spire would have resulted in your death, and that would have helped no one. But… then you fought another battle. Chose to fight it, over retreating from it and returning to us. So what am I supposed to think?” And perhaps it was a bit personal, too, for Deimos had left the bard as well as the baker in that basement, tangled in vines and uncertain whether they would survive the next ten minutes.
”I only have the narrative that you wrote with your actions,” he finally said with a sigh and a shake of his head. ”I came to you with this because I—“ Trusted you sat too bitterly on his tongue after the constant stream of pessimistic criticism of the bard’s abilities and sudden shift from thinking the Spire was too dangerous, to wanting to lead the expedition without Jigano involved in any way, after the work he had done to assemble those the Tulmhainar had said would be necessary. After all, it had not been Deimos who had stayed to hear the great tortoise’s words at the end. Nor Deimos who had braved the gas and gravity to find the key to removing the poison of the plants. ”I thought someone should know what was planned. Someone not involved.” A safety net to rescue them, should the worst come to pass and Jigano’s bravado prove to be not enough. Despite what the big man thought, the plans had been laid with care. ”But if you do not approve of this venture, I’ll find someone else.” Caiside, perhaps, or Sascha and his healing magic.
”My apologies for bothering you,” he spoke courteously from ingrained habit, but he turned away from the big man, seeing no way to convince him otherwise as he left the little training yard and headed back towards the Sanctuary, brow furrowed deeply in thought.
The earthen dome that had covered them completely had hidden Deimos and Vervain from sight, just as Deimos had been unable to see the struggles of those within it. Jigano had been next to Amalia and had heard no screams, only a call – a command – to both of those who had stayed without, too slow to make it into the hut when Delah had raised it. Perhaps Vervain had left first; he’d been focused on other problems at the time, but he didn’t think she had preceded the big man by more than a handful of seconds even so. ”Vai could have called for Safrin,” he said with a sigh, remembering Amalia’s focus on the mind beneath them, and the confident way she had directed them to feed it their memories. She had not cared who had called the goddess, only that it was done.
And look how that had turned out.
”I heard what Kiada said. I heard what you said as well,” Jigano spoke quietly, weariness edging his voice at how round and round they went without making any progress at all. ”My apologies to Zuriel, but from your own words it sounded like you chose to intervene there, instead of using that strength to return to the Spire, whether Kiada would allow it or not.” And there was a true disconnect there, for Jigano had never had anyone who had ever tried to stop him from doing something dangerous, valuing his life above others, the way Kiada apparently had for Deimos. He could hear the words, but not truly picture a situation where a friend could or would choose to stop him in such a way.
”I do not want to think of you as lacking resolve or courage. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, where I can. You left to save your life, because staying any longer in the Spire would have resulted in your death, and that would have helped no one. But… then you fought another battle. Chose to fight it, over retreating from it and returning to us. So what am I supposed to think?” And perhaps it was a bit personal, too, for Deimos had left the bard as well as the baker in that basement, tangled in vines and uncertain whether they would survive the next ten minutes.
”I only have the narrative that you wrote with your actions,” he finally said with a sigh and a shake of his head. ”I came to you with this because I—“ Trusted you sat too bitterly on his tongue after the constant stream of pessimistic criticism of the bard’s abilities and sudden shift from thinking the Spire was too dangerous, to wanting to lead the expedition without Jigano involved in any way, after the work he had done to assemble those the Tulmhainar had said would be necessary. After all, it had not been Deimos who had stayed to hear the great tortoise’s words at the end. Nor Deimos who had braved the gas and gravity to find the key to removing the poison of the plants. ”I thought someone should know what was planned. Someone not involved.” A safety net to rescue them, should the worst come to pass and Jigano’s bravado prove to be not enough. Despite what the big man thought, the plans had been laid with care. ”But if you do not approve of this venture, I’ll find someone else.” Caiside, perhaps, or Sascha and his healing magic.
”My apologies for bothering you,” he spoke courteously from ingrained habit, but he turned away from the big man, seeing no way to convince him otherwise as he left the little training yard and headed back towards the Sanctuary, brow furrowed deeply in thought.
