It was strange to let someone else do the flapping, and probably looked stranger still to see the feathery little puddle of white against the manticore's richer, earthier tones, but the rest was more welcome than the raven had been willing to admit even to himself. He couldn't see the ground anymore from this new perch, so instead he tilted his head to the side, studying the stars above with one eye as he tried to find patterns in the points of light. Feeling Remi flex beneath him - and there was a phrase he'd never expected to use - was a little uncomfortable in the awkward acknowledgment that they were neither of them really close enough for such a situation to be natural.
And yet, thanks to the blight, they might have been closer than they'd ever been in their shared fear for their mutual loved ones.
I... had not thought of her that way before, Jigano admitted, amused at the spark of humor in the alchemist's tone and unable to deny his points. And she did come to help the Undine when Phoebe prayed... He croaked thoughtfully. She's very old, too, I think. Hundreds of years, perhaps nearly as old as the barrier. Very well, you have tentatively convinced me. He chortled a little, the sound a raspy little noise in his raven's throat. He hadn't expected to find a new way of looking at the world tonight, but amidst the darker revelations of the night it was more than welcome to have one that was lighter in tone.
Even if he had not been able to join them in braving the Spire - and he still fought the surge of petty anger, snarling blame that caused him to tense and go silent for a moment as he shook with the effort of keeping mind and mouth shut against it - still there was a flicker of pride that his suggestion had proven useful. He said nothing more, afraid of what would slip out if he tried to respond, but the booming laugh of the manticore startled him enough that it shook loose the attack of temper as he had to instead fight his raven's instinct to flee that mighty roar.
It might not help the animals or people... but if it works you could help to heal the Greatwood, and show the Fae how it's done. I hope that would do something to help bridge the differences between us. He might have book knowledge of human magic, but Jigano understood little of how Fae magic worked. There seemed to be some similarities, though, and he had seen Delah's earth magic in the Cloister, so he knew the Fae had thought. If they could also transmute, then they should be able to recreate anything that Remi showed them.
Assuming, of course, that it worked.
Even though he couldn't see directly beneath them, the raven could see the horizon and the curl of the Stonesong as they approached it before Remi's flight took them over the broad water. It moved too swiftly to reflect the sky, but the stars seemed to grow a little colder as both men were left to contemplate a future that held little warmth. Well, the bard said softly, and for long minutes that was all he said. When he spoke again there was resignation in his voice, but also a spark of defiance, dim and sullen though it was. It wouldn't be the first time. The Long Night monsters did something similar to us. Rory and... and Edy and I. I wonder... if there's a connection of some kind? The question was tentative, Jigano uncertain as he explored the connection Remi's words had sparked. The blight is new, but it came from the Voice, and the portal... did it come from the Spire, where the Core was held? And the Long Night monsters, Jiao said they don't have them outside the barrier. Are they connected to the Spire as well? He paused long enough that Remi might have thought him finished, but he continued in a low, thoughtful tone. I only recently found notes confirming that the Demon and the Prince were Ascended experiments. That Ascended abilities are not like magic. They are... items. Upgrades melded into their bodies. But those upgrades can be taken from one and put into another, if the first person dies. Remi... how many people, do you think, did the Voice and her people experiment on to learn how to do that? How many lost and angry souls died in torment in that Spire? The monsters of Long Night... could there be a connection? As mad as the Spire Demon, and as destructive, but without bodies to call their own anymore. Only rage, ancient and powerful enough to harm and kill those they can find in the dark... The lorekeeper trailed off, huddling down into the manticore's warm fur as the persistent chill of his illness suddenly struck deeper, turning his gut to ice at the possibility.
And yet, thanks to the blight, they might have been closer than they'd ever been in their shared fear for their mutual loved ones.
I... had not thought of her that way before, Jigano admitted, amused at the spark of humor in the alchemist's tone and unable to deny his points. And she did come to help the Undine when Phoebe prayed... He croaked thoughtfully. She's very old, too, I think. Hundreds of years, perhaps nearly as old as the barrier. Very well, you have tentatively convinced me. He chortled a little, the sound a raspy little noise in his raven's throat. He hadn't expected to find a new way of looking at the world tonight, but amidst the darker revelations of the night it was more than welcome to have one that was lighter in tone.
Even if he had not been able to join them in braving the Spire - and he still fought the surge of petty anger, snarling blame that caused him to tense and go silent for a moment as he shook with the effort of keeping mind and mouth shut against it - still there was a flicker of pride that his suggestion had proven useful. He said nothing more, afraid of what would slip out if he tried to respond, but the booming laugh of the manticore startled him enough that it shook loose the attack of temper as he had to instead fight his raven's instinct to flee that mighty roar.
It might not help the animals or people... but if it works you could help to heal the Greatwood, and show the Fae how it's done. I hope that would do something to help bridge the differences between us. He might have book knowledge of human magic, but Jigano understood little of how Fae magic worked. There seemed to be some similarities, though, and he had seen Delah's earth magic in the Cloister, so he knew the Fae had thought. If they could also transmute, then they should be able to recreate anything that Remi showed them.
Assuming, of course, that it worked.
Even though he couldn't see directly beneath them, the raven could see the horizon and the curl of the Stonesong as they approached it before Remi's flight took them over the broad water. It moved too swiftly to reflect the sky, but the stars seemed to grow a little colder as both men were left to contemplate a future that held little warmth. Well, the bard said softly, and for long minutes that was all he said. When he spoke again there was resignation in his voice, but also a spark of defiance, dim and sullen though it was. It wouldn't be the first time. The Long Night monsters did something similar to us. Rory and... and Edy and I. I wonder... if there's a connection of some kind? The question was tentative, Jigano uncertain as he explored the connection Remi's words had sparked. The blight is new, but it came from the Voice, and the portal... did it come from the Spire, where the Core was held? And the Long Night monsters, Jiao said they don't have them outside the barrier. Are they connected to the Spire as well? He paused long enough that Remi might have thought him finished, but he continued in a low, thoughtful tone. I only recently found notes confirming that the Demon and the Prince were Ascended experiments. That Ascended abilities are not like magic. They are... items. Upgrades melded into their bodies. But those upgrades can be taken from one and put into another, if the first person dies. Remi... how many people, do you think, did the Voice and her people experiment on to learn how to do that? How many lost and angry souls died in torment in that Spire? The monsters of Long Night... could there be a connection? As mad as the Spire Demon, and as destructive, but without bodies to call their own anymore. Only rage, ancient and powerful enough to harm and kill those they can find in the dark... The lorekeeper trailed off, huddling down into the manticore's warm fur as the persistent chill of his illness suddenly struck deeper, turning his gut to ice at the possibility.
