”That’s what the records say, and what 108 told me. Given all that led to the Barrier being raised in the first place I’m not surprised,” Jigano explained with a faint grimace. ”Fear and blame can drive people to do terrible things.” They were lucky that they had narrowly avoided a similar outcome between Naturals and Outlanders, after all. He had hoped that Remi would continue to toss ideas back and forth with him, poke holes in his hypotheses and help strengthen them by suggesting alternatives, but the younger man withdrew from the conversation with his usual overly-active sense of humility. At the final question Jigano shook his head in regret for more than one reason. ”I don’t think so. From what I understand, she was trapped and sleeping for a long time before she was freed in the Underground, but Outlanders were still brought through during that time, so it wasn’t a conscious effort on her part. Perhaps it was something more akin to a spell that had been left running in her absence… But if you truly wish to return, perhaps you could ask her?” 108 had thought that it wasn’t possible, and Jigano had been inclined to trust her calm, pragmatic judgments. Influenced by the Voice though she may have been, she also knew her creator far better than the more recent ‘children’ of that new goddess. But perhaps now that the Barrier was down, things had changed? If she was free and more powerful than before there was a chance…
But it wasn’t one that Jigano felt the need to take. Maea’s questions of the goddess had been met with an almost passionless cruelty, and while Remi was right that things were certainly not over, the bard had other priorities to focus on in the meantime.
He winced away from the uninvited voice in his head, though this time he didn’t snarl wordlessly at it. He was getting better with it, learning to accept it more easily among his friends, and the anxiety faded more quickly now, calmed with practice. The swift apology earned a sigh and a tilt of his head in acknowledgment as he considered that the first uninvited voice he had heard in his head had been Remi’s… something the alchemist seemed determined to continue with. ”It’s alright,” he murmured, forcing himself to accept the apology at face value. ”I’m becoming more used to it here. And yes, I have been practicing ways to shield my thoughts from more than casual conversation.” Caiside had been a willing partner in that, both men preferring to keep their secrets, but trusting each other enough to risk the occasional slip while they honed their defenses, though the stag had yet to manage telepathy outside of his animal form.
Jigano nodded as Remi grinned over Devrum’s surprises and Kiada’s animal form, his curiosity piqued in bright eyes and the quirk of a smile. ”I look forward to seeing it,” he murmured, making a note to try and find the girl later, when time permitted. His smile became a chuckle at Remi’s ‘cowardice’ – or rather, common sense! – and he nodded fervent agreement. ”I spent all my life with one form before this. Though having wings of my own has certainly been fascinating in its own right, I hardly know what I would wish to become beyond what I am already capable of.”
Remi lowered his mirror, and Jigano followed suit, setting his own down carefully at the alchemist’s invitation. ”It would be my pleasure,” he assured his host, stepping over to the table and cupping his hands around the little vial of powder and liquid, blocking the light as best he could. A definite glow blossomed as darkness fell around the concoction, and the bard rose with a laugh, turning to offer Remi a bow of congratulations. ”It works! Not as bright as a lantern, perhaps, but safer than one around the books! And if I could ask you to continue tweaking your formula there might be way to brighten it further, maybe?” He looked to the alchemist curiously, wondering if Remi had ever had reason to try and make it brighter before, if the original goal had been gently glowing stars rather than light enough to read by.
But it wasn’t one that Jigano felt the need to take. Maea’s questions of the goddess had been met with an almost passionless cruelty, and while Remi was right that things were certainly not over, the bard had other priorities to focus on in the meantime.
He winced away from the uninvited voice in his head, though this time he didn’t snarl wordlessly at it. He was getting better with it, learning to accept it more easily among his friends, and the anxiety faded more quickly now, calmed with practice. The swift apology earned a sigh and a tilt of his head in acknowledgment as he considered that the first uninvited voice he had heard in his head had been Remi’s… something the alchemist seemed determined to continue with. ”It’s alright,” he murmured, forcing himself to accept the apology at face value. ”I’m becoming more used to it here. And yes, I have been practicing ways to shield my thoughts from more than casual conversation.” Caiside had been a willing partner in that, both men preferring to keep their secrets, but trusting each other enough to risk the occasional slip while they honed their defenses, though the stag had yet to manage telepathy outside of his animal form.
Jigano nodded as Remi grinned over Devrum’s surprises and Kiada’s animal form, his curiosity piqued in bright eyes and the quirk of a smile. ”I look forward to seeing it,” he murmured, making a note to try and find the girl later, when time permitted. His smile became a chuckle at Remi’s ‘cowardice’ – or rather, common sense! – and he nodded fervent agreement. ”I spent all my life with one form before this. Though having wings of my own has certainly been fascinating in its own right, I hardly know what I would wish to become beyond what I am already capable of.”
Remi lowered his mirror, and Jigano followed suit, setting his own down carefully at the alchemist’s invitation. ”It would be my pleasure,” he assured his host, stepping over to the table and cupping his hands around the little vial of powder and liquid, blocking the light as best he could. A definite glow blossomed as darkness fell around the concoction, and the bard rose with a laugh, turning to offer Remi a bow of congratulations. ”It works! Not as bright as a lantern, perhaps, but safer than one around the books! And if I could ask you to continue tweaking your formula there might be way to brighten it further, maybe?” He looked to the alchemist curiously, wondering if Remi had ever had reason to try and make it brighter before, if the original goal had been gently glowing stars rather than light enough to read by.
