I suppose it's for the best that we haven't unearthed the one beneath the Spire yet. I've been hesitating to do so since we didn't know how the blight was spread in the first place and I was worried about an infected person going through it and bringing the sickness to somewhere new. If the portal itself is one of the main causes... He trailed off wearily, gliding and then flapping to keep up with the much bigger manticore. If the serpent survived he will hopefully be safe now that the poison is gone. Perhaps it would be best to leave the stone wall in place for a while longer, to try and keep the blight contained as much as we can. And part of that meant containing the Voice and her Ascendeds, from what Remi had said. All we can do is give Sam as much support as we can, and hope he can shake free of the Voice. I hate to think of how she's used him. There was a growl in his tone, a more animalistic response than the usually-controlled bard allowed to show as his temper spiked erratically at a target worth his ire.
What lay between Remi and Rory was something Jigano had carefully never pursued; one question that didn't need an answer, for it had little bearing on the present. They were friends now, but the bard didn't question that the alchemist was loyal to Ronin, just as he trusted Rory's love and honesty with him. The needs of harvest and the herd had meant the farmer spent most of his time at home now, though, and so those in the settlement saw little of him these days. No, it was the question that followed that silenced the bard, and he weighed the truth against a clever misdirection, hiding his sickness from all but his mate.
Hiding had caused nothing but trouble, though. And it wasn't as though he could hide this forever.
I am not so lucky, he admitted at last. I thought I was just sick, that my fever had lingered, but... Ludo enlightened me of that misconception. I can deal with the rest, but it's the anger that's the hardest to hold back. But Remi knew far more about that, living with Ronin. The list of symptoms the alchemist recounted shortly after fit well what Jigano had experienced, and he sent a pulse of wordless agreement to the manticore.
The raven snorted - regretting it almost immediately as it interfered with the breathing pattern of flight, and scrambling a little to steady himself - mentally waving off the sense of regret from the manticore. Oh, I did it to myself. I just can't seem to swallow my damn ego long enough to admit it to the ones who deserve it most. I'm too busy being hurt and angry half the time to say what I want to say, and instead it's all bile and excuses and lashing out at those I want least to hurt. Perhaps oddly - or perhaps not - the distance and not-friendship he had with Remi made it easier to talk to the alchemist about some things, their relationship holding different threads of tension but far less personal wounds these days, and more respect for what the younger man had survived and endured.
What lay between Remi and Rory was something Jigano had carefully never pursued; one question that didn't need an answer, for it had little bearing on the present. They were friends now, but the bard didn't question that the alchemist was loyal to Ronin, just as he trusted Rory's love and honesty with him. The needs of harvest and the herd had meant the farmer spent most of his time at home now, though, and so those in the settlement saw little of him these days. No, it was the question that followed that silenced the bard, and he weighed the truth against a clever misdirection, hiding his sickness from all but his mate.
Hiding had caused nothing but trouble, though. And it wasn't as though he could hide this forever.
I am not so lucky, he admitted at last. I thought I was just sick, that my fever had lingered, but... Ludo enlightened me of that misconception. I can deal with the rest, but it's the anger that's the hardest to hold back. But Remi knew far more about that, living with Ronin. The list of symptoms the alchemist recounted shortly after fit well what Jigano had experienced, and he sent a pulse of wordless agreement to the manticore.
The raven snorted - regretting it almost immediately as it interfered with the breathing pattern of flight, and scrambling a little to steady himself - mentally waving off the sense of regret from the manticore. Oh, I did it to myself. I just can't seem to swallow my damn ego long enough to admit it to the ones who deserve it most. I'm too busy being hurt and angry half the time to say what I want to say, and instead it's all bile and excuses and lashing out at those I want least to hurt. Perhaps oddly - or perhaps not - the distance and not-friendship he had with Remi made it easier to talk to the alchemist about some things, their relationship holding different threads of tension but far less personal wounds these days, and more respect for what the younger man had survived and endured.
