Jigano watched the goddess walk the altar, smile courteous but eyes wary of such an unpredictable creature, especially when he was uncertain of whom he spoke with. His wariness was rewarded with her next words, however - his name on her lips, and hers... in his mind. He tensed, fingers curving protectively over the strings of his lap harp, not quite claws as he tried to hold back the internal snarl at the intrusion. Cassandalee had never been so disrespectful of his privacy but then... Cass had been a friend long before she had become a goddess of glass and iron.
The words continued to whisper from the girl-goddess, sweet in the air but echoing like drums inside his head. He knew what she meant immediately - how could he not, when the memory was always so close to the surface of his thoughts? And her words lashed him fresh, paper-thin scars tearing open anew at being forced once more into the light. "I..." he started, then stopped, folding his chin down to his chest as he took a ragged breath. Ah, Remi... he thought briefly, remembering how gullible the boy had seemed, in the comfort of the Atheneum. Perhaps he had been too harsh with him...
He turned as if his joints were not his own, a jerky motion as he rose to his feet with a yawning chasm of resignation and despair weighing down his chest where his heart should be to face what had appeared behind him. The shadows of those he had lost... three of them were inhumanly short, two with bulbous heads and sharp-toothed grins. The one who wore fire more willingly than clothes, who had taught him cooking and saved his life even as she complicated it with her complete lack of impulse control..."Yohgel," he whispered, blinking back a stinging at the corners of his eyes. She wasn't real here, he knew that, but still... Beside her was her brother with daggers that had slain a would-be god's strongest catspaw. Fiercely intelligent, wickedly ambitious, and often the bard's greatest ally in convincing the others to move forward.
And also his most dangerous opponent. The one without whom they never would have survived... and perhaps the others would not have fallen so deeply into shadow. "Riz," he quietly acknowledged, straightening his spine as he was reminded both of the hardest thing he'd ever done... and the reason he had needed to do it.
"That is why I don't ask for your fortune for myself," he said, voice soft as he spoke to the shadows in the Temple, and the one who watched from their embrace, though his eyes stayed on the simulacra before him. In spite of his control it cracked with emotion, but he continued on, choosing his words with care. "We have seen where my choices lead. So... I ask you to stay your hand and your games against those who have been kind to me here. You, who focus so strongly on the past... what future do you see for those who seek to escape the barrier? Would you lead me to my death, as you tried with young Remi? Or do you have a different game in mind tonight?"
The words continued to whisper from the girl-goddess, sweet in the air but echoing like drums inside his head. He knew what she meant immediately - how could he not, when the memory was always so close to the surface of his thoughts? And her words lashed him fresh, paper-thin scars tearing open anew at being forced once more into the light. "I..." he started, then stopped, folding his chin down to his chest as he took a ragged breath. Ah, Remi... he thought briefly, remembering how gullible the boy had seemed, in the comfort of the Atheneum. Perhaps he had been too harsh with him...
He turned as if his joints were not his own, a jerky motion as he rose to his feet with a yawning chasm of resignation and despair weighing down his chest where his heart should be to face what had appeared behind him. The shadows of those he had lost... three of them were inhumanly short, two with bulbous heads and sharp-toothed grins. The one who wore fire more willingly than clothes, who had taught him cooking and saved his life even as she complicated it with her complete lack of impulse control..."Yohgel," he whispered, blinking back a stinging at the corners of his eyes. She wasn't real here, he knew that, but still... Beside her was her brother with daggers that had slain a would-be god's strongest catspaw. Fiercely intelligent, wickedly ambitious, and often the bard's greatest ally in convincing the others to move forward.
And also his most dangerous opponent. The one without whom they never would have survived... and perhaps the others would not have fallen so deeply into shadow. "Riz," he quietly acknowledged, straightening his spine as he was reminded both of the hardest thing he'd ever done... and the reason he had needed to do it.
"That is why I don't ask for your fortune for myself," he said, voice soft as he spoke to the shadows in the Temple, and the one who watched from their embrace, though his eyes stayed on the simulacra before him. In spite of his control it cracked with emotion, but he continued on, choosing his words with care. "We have seen where my choices lead. So... I ask you to stay your hand and your games against those who have been kind to me here. You, who focus so strongly on the past... what future do you see for those who seek to escape the barrier? Would you lead me to my death, as you tried with young Remi? Or do you have a different game in mind tonight?"
