kings & vagabonds

Safrin hadn't answered him the last time he had come, when thoughts of proposals and wedding rings had been the brightest thing in his mind. Now, with Ronin dying and Safrin likely doing the same, the alchemist held out even less hope that the goddess might appear.

But he had to try. It felt like he'd tried everything else after all.

Instead of offerings, the alchemist brought his notes. Sketches, reports, columns and charts, all filled out in meticulous detail outlining everything he knew of the blight and everything plaguing Ronin since he had been infected by it. Kneeling, his lower lip clasped between his teeth as he stifled the shaky near-sob lodged in his throat, the alchemist closed his eyes.

[say]"Please."[/say] He whispered into the starlit night. [say]"Please. I cannot lose him again."[/say]

[say]”Everyone dies, sugar.”[/say]

Safrin’s voice broke the stillness. Instead of appearing in a grandiose shower of starlight, she simply was where she currently had not been. Sitting on the top of the wall of stones, Safrin folded one leg over the other as she gazed softly down at the kneeling man. Her voice was weak and small sounding, but still even in her more vulnerable state, Safrin was quite the sight to behold.

The sound of her voice made the alchemist start, his shattered-gaze rising immediately. Unlike everyone save for Ronin (who always appeared to Remi in a vibrant wash of technicolor light), Safrin glowed. However the alchemist couldn’t help but notice the same darkening vignette around her; a shadow infringing on her light just as it was doing to his husband.

[say]”I know.”[/say] Remi agreed weakly, though he shook his head nonetheless. [say] “And Ronin more than most, but..”[/say] His voice trailed off, heart hammering in his chest, his expression one of crumpled hope and unfettered optimism. [say] “How long?”[/say] Remi asked finally, his face having gone quite pale as he stared up into the bright light that was the goddess. [say] “If it keeps progressing like this...if a cure is not found. How long does he have?”[/say]

Folding her arms gently across her chest, the goddess regarded the man before her. Once it had made her amused how emotionally invested the mortals could be, winding their lives around those they cared for and refusing to let go. Now it just made her weary and sad. She was guilty of having done the same, for it was only her love for the Fallen Star that made it possible for him to return. Much as she pitied Remi his situation, hers was not so terribly different.

[say] “A season, give or take.”[/say] She replied simply.

The hammering of his heart abruptly ceased. The world began to fade, to spin, to grow cold. As if swimming in ice water, Remi gasped, clenching his hands together as they began to tremble and shake. [say] “A…”[/say] But he couldn’t even finish the sentence. A season. That was no time at all. It took longer than that to make most of Remi’s alcohols, much less somehow puzzle out a cure to the blight.

His breath came swiftly then, in fits and starts. [say] “Please—”[/say] Remi all but moaned, tears sweeping across his shattered stare as he hopelessly shook his head before the goddess. [say] “I have lost him once. I..”[/say] Fingertips pulsing against his palm, Remi closed his eyes against the wave of tears that threatened to break.

Then, desperate, Remi’s trembling fingers reached for his notes. Drawings of the blight, details of how it spread. Information he’d learned from Phoebe, Ronin’s symptoms. Gesturing wildly at the parchment as if mere effort alone was somehow enough, Remi swallowed harshly. [say] “I...I do not understand it.  It seems organic...it...it is taking over him, like a parasite.”[/say]  Then, perhaps far too boldly, but too wrapped up in the ever-darkening thoughts of Ronin’s imminent death, Remi asked: [say] “And you? What are your symptoms?”[/say]

Frowning, Safrin nodded. She had seen the looks of the men in love at their wedding and knew that it was genuine. But love could not stop fate, no matter how many pretty poems were written indicating the contrary.

[say] ”Seems”[/say] Safrin repeated almost knowingly, nodding slowly. [say] “Yes. It does seem that way.”[/say] She added in vague agreement.

The alchemist’s question made the goddess pause. Her eyes narrowed almost dangerously for a moment. To ask so bluntly about the extent of her weakness was a dangerous thing. Even more dangerous still to answer. It wouldn’t be the first time a mortal had used such information against her.

[say] “You might have noticed a slight change in my appearance.”[/say] She sniffed, vain even now. [say] “But I am...tired. And not the way mortals are tired. I do not sleep like you, need to eat like you, to keep my strength up. I am what I am, but this…”[/say] Softly, she shook her head. [say] “It is like a part of me is gone. Eaten away. I am less than I was. I think that is the weariness I feel.”[/say]

Much as Remi might have wanted to be sympathetic, Safrin’s words fell on all but deaf ears. She was tired? Felt like part of her was missing? That was not information he could work with. Scrubbing a hand across his eyes, Remi felt his teeth click together. Grinding the heels of his hands against his eyelids hard enough that he would soon see stars, Remi soon felt the white-bright pain of tears finally stinging through. Down onto his cheeks they fell as he hissed in a strangled breath.

You did this, he wanted to scream. You. All for a dying tulmhainar. The words were loud and uncaged in his head, but his lips did nothing more than tremble beneath his hands.

[say] “Is there anything I can do? For you, or him? To slow this?”[/say] With eyes watery and blurred with tears, Remi implored the goddess with all that he had. All the magic, all the wild-shapes..he’d give it all even for a day more with the Fallen Star.

[say] “There is little that you can hide from me, Remi.”[/say] The goddess said pointedly. [say] “And my reasons for going into the Spire are my own.”[/say] She added just as curtly.

As for what the alchemist might do? Safrin frowned. [say] “I am not unconvinced that this doesn’t have something to do with the Voice. The timing is too coincidental.. “[/say] Apart from that? Safrin merely shook her head sadly. [say] “You will remember that it was not me who actually brought Ronin back. The lives of those destined for death are in the hands of Ludo and Mort.”[/say] Safrin had snatched up Ronin, yes. But he had been dead and it was only her pleading that had bent the ears of Vi and Mort.

Flinching as if struck, Remi’s head dropped instantly. Cold regret and apology flooded through him as he pulled in a large breath. [say] “I am sorry, Safrin. I … “[/say] A smile tried to force its way onto his lips, but the weight of his tears held it at bay. But, he what? Was so sad he was losing his temper? His mind? That grief justified his dark thoughts? Only it didn’t, and he knew it. [say] “ I am sorry.”[/say] He whispered, tears like morning dew on his lashes.

Mention of the Voice had the alchemist’s head rising. [say] “The...the Voice asked Sam to go into the Greatwood..and...Zariah was just sent away by her. No one knows where she has gone.”[/say] Remi’s eyes scanned the goddess, desperate for some sort of sign that any of this was helpful, connected, or worth following up on.

Sitting up slightly straighter, Safrin’s eyes narrowed. [say] “Samuel, the ascended?”[/say] She asked, already knowing the answer. What the Voice might have wanted or done with Zariah was of little consequence to the goddess. That simply seemed like meddling. But why she would send one of her own into potential danger?

Now that was interesting.

[say] “I wonder...if the ascended can contract the blight.”[/say] Safrin mused, her voice impossibly suggestive despite how neutral it also sounded. [say] “Find out what you can, Remi.”[/say] She said, knowing that with Ronin’s life on the line, he’d do all that he could.

With perhaps the first whisper of hope since the conversation began, Remi stood, his heart once again a wildly beating caged bird in his chest. [say]”I will.”[/say] He vowed instantly, eyes filled with tears and starlight as he gazed earnestly up at the deity. [say] “I did mean what I said..if there is anything I can do for you...please. You need only ask.”[/say] He hoped that his sincerity rang true, that his concern for Safrin went deeper than merely her connection to Ronin. That was part of it to be sure, but the alchemist’s heart would always be altruistic even in the wake of his husband’s potential demise.

[say] "You are sweet, Remi. But worry not for me. This will not end me, the way it will end the forests and those you care about."[/say] She replied, her image already fading. The fields and stars above would become clear through her, until only her starlit gaze remained. Fixing him with a solemn stare, the goddess had nothing left to offer. No winds of strength, no words of consolation.

It was as she had told Jigano not so long ago; this seemed a mortal problem and in her current state, she could do little to assist.