Amalia might have felt relief, but Jigano felt a sharp pang of worry at seeing her and Peter coming in from behind them, from out in the darkness. Had they gone looking for the bard and Harpy? Or had it been some other task that sent them out? In the end it didn't matter, because whatever she had been doing she had come back safe. He watched her join the family gathering of Deimos and Kiada and had turned away, glad but hurting, too. If Rory had been here...
But he wasn't, and the bard hobbled further into the Hall, seeking Remi and Isla before a qilin maneuvered in front of him sooner than he had expected. Part of him wanted to lean forward and press his face against her muzzle, and it was a very large part, but though he had scraped off as much as he could there was still some of the dark tar on his skin and hair, and he couldn't bear to see the cursed stuff mar Amalia's beautiful hide. Not in this celestial shape, at least.
He leaned heavily on the staff-turned-walking-stick and looked away from her inquisitive eyes, shaking his head in silent negation. Wounded, covered in tar, with a hole in his leg... not 'are you okay' or 'do you need help' or 'I'm glad you made it back' but 'did you succeed.' What did the rest matter, when he had failed Kiada, and by extension those who loved her?
"We were overwhelmed. I couldn't protect her and attack the monster that held Ru'in's soul... It flew, but we couldn't reach it, and the other monsters around us continued to chip away at us while we did little more than annoy it. It only let us go because Kiada made a bargain with it. An impossible bargain, but it gives us another chance, at least. This year... or next." There was defeat in his voice, a weary guilt with an edge of anger at his own helplessness. He had been useless in the end, able to neither protect Kiada nor to fight for Ru'in's freedom.
But he wasn't, and the bard hobbled further into the Hall, seeking Remi and Isla before a qilin maneuvered in front of him sooner than he had expected. Part of him wanted to lean forward and press his face against her muzzle, and it was a very large part, but though he had scraped off as much as he could there was still some of the dark tar on his skin and hair, and he couldn't bear to see the cursed stuff mar Amalia's beautiful hide. Not in this celestial shape, at least.
He leaned heavily on the staff-turned-walking-stick and looked away from her inquisitive eyes, shaking his head in silent negation. Wounded, covered in tar, with a hole in his leg... not 'are you okay' or 'do you need help' or 'I'm glad you made it back' but 'did you succeed.' What did the rest matter, when he had failed Kiada, and by extension those who loved her?
"We were overwhelmed. I couldn't protect her and attack the monster that held Ru'in's soul... It flew, but we couldn't reach it, and the other monsters around us continued to chip away at us while we did little more than annoy it. It only let us go because Kiada made a bargain with it. An impossible bargain, but it gives us another chance, at least. This year... or next." There was defeat in his voice, a weary guilt with an edge of anger at his own helplessness. He had been useless in the end, able to neither protect Kiada nor to fight for Ru'in's freedom.
