Cold as Ice

Jigano nodded wearily at the recounting of apologies and promises. He didn't doubt that they were sincere, but how long before something happened, some new threat arose, and one or another of them would break the promise anew, certain that only they could save the Fae from it? Given that he would be right there with the mage in doing so gave the bard no solace; it only meant two fools would pay the price of arrogance the next time it happened.

At least he didn't pout and make excuses and insist that he was in the right, as Jigano remembered Phoebe doing a very long Flowerbirth ago. She had been trying to justify Roana's actions at the time, not her own... he hadn't spoken to her since, come to think of it, but from what he had heard from Remi that was probably for the best. Loren accepted what he had done and saw the Fae's point of view, and the bard would have been impressed by the maturity the young scholar showed if he hadn't himself felt so weary. The near-mindless task they applied themselves to at least left plenty of opportunity for conversation, and Jigano tucked a last tuft of moss into a crack before using his foot to shift the bag over to the next window. It was a good break in the conversation, giving him a chance to pull his thoughts together on the tulmhainars and all that they entailed.

"They are... incredible," he said quietly. "There is only one left on Caido, and he lives in the Sidhe Village where the Fae tend to him. They are creatures that are difficult to describe. Words don't really do them justice. They are vast and old and... kind, I think. The one I met was, though I was only with her in her final moments before her passing. Amalia said the one in the Village is, too. Something like tortoises, but something like worlds. They feed on memories. Not memories taken, but memories shared. I think the Fae just like to use the threat of 'sacrifice' to scare people," he admitted, a flicker of smile playing at his lips again as he wedged moss between pane and sill. It was the type of humor he could appreciate now that he wasn't on the other end of it.

loren

On to the next window, and the next wearying conversation. Try as Loren might, he couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm at this news of another wondrous being. It didn’t help that Jigano’s explanation didn’t really clarify anything. Even Astra couldn’t startle a smile out of the summoner when she tried to nip at the moss in his hand; he just moved it out of the way and gave her a cursory pat, before sticking the moss into the gap between the window and the wall. ”So...it’s a giant turtle that eats memories?” The concept was nearly impossible for even the Launceleyn, who summoned creatures of legend as a matter of course, to wrap his mind around. "I'm sorry to hear that the one you met passed away." Even in the depths of the darkness Loren often found himself in, he could still try to provide the bard with some small comfort.

Never judge a book by its cover.

It was a travesty of bardic skill for words to fail him in describing the tulmhainars, and yet the great creatures defied description almost as a matter of course. It was frustrating to not be able to do them justice, but until Loren met one - and after being barred from Sidhe Village that might never come to pass - Jigano's imperfect words would have to suffice. "Something like that. So much more than that, really... but that's the best I can do at the moment. They remember worlds, Loren, and the space between stars..." He shook his head in remembered wonder, not even the blight able to take that from him.

The mage's condolences were a kindness that brought a smile to Jigano's lips, however faint and sad, and he gave a nod of gratitude as they continued to work sdie-by-side. "She was very, very old," he said quietly. "Tulmhainars have a way of... of bending the world around them, so great is their presence. It's so powerful that in the normal course of things that only one Tulmhainar may reside on a world at a time, from what she explained. Two would put the world at risk. She was placed in the basement of the Spire, a world apart from this one, by the power of Rae... and possibly the Voice as well. She wanted to see the sky again so badly..." He sighed, his trembling fingers slowing in their task as he leaned against the wall beside the window, letting it support him. "But when she heard that another Tulmhainar already resided on Caido, she chose to let age and death claim her rather than risk the world's safety for her own freedom." She had been noble as well as kind, and he regretted deeply that he had not been able to spend more time with her and learn more about her.

He slanted a glance over at his fellow scholar, wondering if Loren cared to be hearing this at all, or if his own exhaustion and black mood was too encompassing. "Though she wasn't far from death by the time we reached her. Not after what Roana and her friends had done to her."

loren

Once upon a time, if Jigano had not been recovering from the blight and Loren had not been nursing a heart that had broken and twisted beyond recognition, the description of such an amazing creature would have delighted the summoner. As it stood, the Launceleyn was barely able to muster up a smile. ”It sounds wonderful. I’m sorry I missed meeting one, and I’m even more sorry to hear that she had to perform such a noble and selfless sacrifice.” As someone who knew a little bit about putting others first—or at least trying to, though he often succumbed to his own selfish nature—he knew the courage and strength that took.

If only he was strong enough to do what was needed. Mostly, though, he found his willpower failing him. Well, he already had many regrets, so adding more to the crushing sense of guilt he felt was hardly going to make a noticeable difference.

Even Astra staring up at Loren with her soulful eyes wasn’t enough to rouse him from his funk. And if the luxere couldn’t manage it, probably nothing and no one could. And that was before the summoner heard Roana’s name fall from the bard’s lips. ”What? What did she do this time. Or...whatever. What did she do?” His voice came out with a surprising degree of heat, especially compared to the dull tone he’d been employing for most of this conversation: he’d been hearing a lot about and from the ex-captain, and none of it was good.

Perhaps it was time for him to have another little chat with her.

He didn’t like the directions his thoughts and feelings were trending. In order to mentally cool off, he picked up another clump of the moss; holding it in his hands, he tried to will the chill into his veins. However, he just succeeded in numbing his hands, so he placed the moss in a crack with a sigh.

Never judge a book by its cover.

"She was," the bard said quietly, taking strength from the memory as well as melancholy. Someday he hoped to meet the tulmhainar in the Fae village, too, but it wasn't likely to happen any time soon. It was a shame that the memory of the Spire's worldturtle was marred by the memory of Roana alongside it, and Jigano's mood took a turn for the worse at the reminder of the ex-Captain.

His expression tightened for a moment, but the heat in Loren's voice surprised him out of his own descending funk and he paused on his moss placement to look the scholar over with an appraising eye.

He was honest enough to admit a flare of petty satisfaction that he wasn't the only one who'd run into problems with the woman, but the truth was as colder than last season's stew. "It was in Flowerbirth, not recently," he admitted, going back to their task. "When the Spire was first breached." His mouth tightened grimly; that had been a dark time as well, and Roana's actions had nearly torn the Settlement apart. "And before," he added after a moment's pause, unsure of what Loren had heard in his absence. "But the night the Spire was opened, that was the night she attacked and tried to kill the Tulmhainar in the Spire's basement." Everyone thought she had succeeded, too, ignorant of what the great tortoise was back then.

loren

Well, while the summoner didn’t know the particulars, he could guess what had happened. Roana, being a soldier well used to facing all sorts of opponents and monsters in battle, had probably reacted without thinking. He could picture it all too easily: seeing an enormous beast with unknown abilities in a hostile environment, she would’ve struck without thinking, more worried about protecting her people than any consequences or about thinking if it was the right thing to do.

Same as what she was trying to do with the Ascended.

Loren stroked Astra, but his motions were jerky and she gave him an annoyed look. Sighing, he slowed them, but she was already moving to Jigano’s side. ”She probably saw a monster.” He wasn’t excusing or justifying her actions. And his voice carried an incredible amount of sorrow, that such a beautiful creature would be cut down so callously. But war did funny things to people’s heads, made them think wrong was right and that the ends justified the means.

Gods knew Loren didn’t have the strongest moral compass.

Never judge a book by its cover.

It sounded like an excuse to Jigano's blight-tainted ears, but not even the darkness in him could hide the sorrow in Loren's voice, and the bard nodded slowly. "She does that a lot," he said grimly. "People who don't see things the way she does tend to get treated like that... although, admittedly, my only experiences with her have been her threatening the people I love or killing guardians that meant her no harm. It has not made for the best impression." He was an Oracle, not a saint, and he was absolutely petty enough to hold grudges. The blight did nothing to help with that unfortunate aspect of his personality, to say the least.

Astra, however, was a welcome distraction from that dark turn of his thoughts and he paused in his work to do his best to scratch her ears and around the base of her antlers, so far as his shaking fingers would allow. His expression softened again as he took the time to let her presence - and her light - soothe him, even if it was only in his head. "But you did not have this lovely one the last time I saw you," he said, trying to change the conversation to something hopefully lighter for both of them. "However did you find each other?"

loren

Even though the summoner wasn’t exactly keen to defend Roana, Loren can’t help but feel a little bit of kinship with someone who came from the same world as him. ”I wouldn’t expect it to. And what she did was wrong. There's no doubt about thatBut…” The Launceleyn bit his lip. ”We both came from a world a war, a war she was on the front lines of. And then we moved into a world under seige, where again, she was on the front lines. So she doesn’t know there’s another way. A better way.” Loren didn’t either. But at least he was trying.

Just like Jigano was trying to change the subject. While the Launceleyn didn’t mind the clumsy attempt—welcomed it in fact—it was pretty obvious. ”I was out feeding some of the few luxere that had already arrived, and she happened to be with them. I don’t know why she was with her wild kin, or why she followed me home.” Nor did he know why she was still by his side, though he gave her a grateful smile, which calmed her somewhat. For her, at least, he could be something more than depressed.

Never judge a book by its cover.

Excuses, excuses, always the Northhaveners made excuses for Roana's behavior. The bard wanted to snap back, to point to those among Loren's countrymen who did find ways to learn, and adapt, and not try to kill everyone and everything that stood in their way. Instead he ground his teeth together, grinding the words to dust and swallowing them like a bitter pill. He knew it was the blight within him egging him towards frustration and insults. He couldn't blame it all on the blight, but the darkness certainly pushed him towards saying things aloud that had no business being said. Not without a great deal of thought and very careful wording - neither of which the blight encouraged, even in its diminishing state.

Astra was not only a safe topic of conversation, but he had expected some great tale of derring-do to take his mind off things. Auni had been found in the depths of Long Night with a demon inside her that killed Isla on its way out. Jyoti had been rescued from a storm among the stars, falling from the sky as Amalia rose to slow the little calf's descent. Isuma's egg had been a gift from an ice fairy that had led them all an emotionally-exhausting dance. Companions often came with such stories attached, so to hear that Astra had arrived peacefully and simply followed Loren home was something of a surprise. "Perhaps she thought your hearts were aligned," he mused thoughtfully as he patted her head and then went back to work with the moss. His cold fingers barely felt the stuff, but the trembling was improving a little more, he thought hopefully. "Or that you needed her. Gods know that Isuma has used that connection between us to save me from myself more than once." And he wasn't too proud to admit it, even with the blight still darkening his life.

loren

The other man’s reaction to the Launceleyn’s not quite of defense of Roana was clear enough, so he shut up about the woman. Much better to talk about Astra, anyway, for both of them. It was a pretty thought and a prettier sentiment, that the luxere and the summoner had similar hearts. But he knew it wasn’t true. She was goodness and light, and Loren was brooding darkness with a heart that felt shattered beyond repair. Still, Jigano was trying to be kind, and the Launceleyn could appreciate that. ”I doubt we’re kindred spirits, much as I might like to believe that. But I definitely need her.” A ghost of a real smile crossed his lips, and he reached over to give Astra a proper head rub; in response, she gave him a contented and satisfied look. Slightly less gloomily and definitely less angrily, he added a bit more moss to the seal they were creating.

Never judge a book by its cover.

He was glad to see a little joy return to Loren's face as they spoke about Astra - the little star of the hour cheering them both with her sweetness. The light in others could sometimes make it easier to fight back the darkness in himself, while the darkness in others tended to strengthen it. Loren's smile was as much a relief as the luxere's adorable antics, and Jigano relaxed a little as they headed on to the final window.

"Nobody on this world gives themselves the credit they deserve," he noted wryly at Loren's gentle deflection. "I remember you working hard to try and find answers to the blight and prepare for Long Night. It's only more impressive if you did so while fighting off your own demons. And here you are again, helping, just as she is." The smile he found for the luxere was a little easier, a little more genuine as he borrowed their strength. "And what you did... it hasn't been in vain."

He drew a shaky breath, picking a piece of moss into a smaller lump that could be more easily stuffed into a crack. The glance he shot the other man was uncharacteristically uncertain, but he wouldn't have his usual confidence back until the blight was gone from his blood entirely. "I would like to ask you about yourself, Loren," he said with quiet dignity and a formality that bordered on the awkward. "But... given your family name, I don't want to bring up bad memories." From his talks with Edy, he already knew that there were far too many of those. "So if those are too painful, will you tell me instead who you hope to become?"

loren

Jigano’s efforts to cheer Loren up (if that was indeed what the bard was trying to do) fell on deaf ears. ”Or maybe people deserve less credit than they get.” After abandoning everyone he knew for a year, he knew his efforts were too little, too late. ”I was just making up for lost time. And no one I was close to was blighted, or at least, no one I’m close to anymore, so I didn’t have that additional burden.” As for helping with LongNight, the summoner shrugged. ”It’s help or people die. And you’re here.” It was probably much harder for the white-haired man to be here, with the blight lingering in his veins, than it was for the Launceleyn.

It was kind of the bard to worry about the summoner’s past, albeit totally unnecessary. At this point, he’d gone over the painful memories enough times that they just ached, the wounds scarred over instead of raw. It helped that his remaining relatives were harmless: it was hard to worry about children and an adopted son who was scared of his own shadow. ”You can ask me whatever you’d like. Though I might make you answer a few questions of my own in exchange.” That was more than a fair trade. However, when the white-haired man asked who Loren wanted to become, he hesitated and bit his lip. ”I want to survive LongNight.” Nothing else really mattered, not his dreams, or what he might want in his heart of hearts. Which might be why he redoubled his efforts to finish filling in the cracks around the window they were working on before moving on to the next.

Never judge a book by its cover.

At last he found the strength to arch a brow at the pessimistic declaration that people didn't deserve credit. All those Jigano knew worked hard to help others, giving in time, energy, experience, and more material ways to pull together and protect as many as they could. Sometimes the helpers were the ones who needed help, though. The weight that they took on their shoulders became too heavy and they needed to set it down for awhile before they could take it up again. He had done so, before the blight had stricken him. Rory was doing so now. Loren had as well, and if he had needed more time than most, still he had come back to try again. "You didn't have the burden, perhaps... but you didn't have the personal stake to help, either. And yet you did, doing what you could for complete strangers like myself." It helped, oddly, to worry about Loren and the scholar's mood rather than brooding on his own blight-ravaged psyche. "The fact that you think you need to make up for 'lost time' says a great deal about you," he added mildly.

"Yes." He was here, finally, where he belonged. He hesitated, then turned his gaze back on the moss and the cracks they filled with it. "Last Long Night, I was the lucky one. I came terrifyingly close... but I didn't lose the people I cared for. But they lost people. Family. Lovers. Friends. I don't want to see such grief on their faces again. So I am here. And so are you. Are your reasons for helping so different than mine?" To protect people, even strangers, was no easy task to take on, nor one that everyone would do willingly. Perhaps that was something that the scholar had forgotten.

Loren's offer was generous, though his caveat brought a faint smile to the blighted bard's lips. "That's fair," he agreed, just hoping that the questions the mage came up with wouldn't trigger another blight-spiral. The answer to his first question, however, had him snorting softly. "That's what you want to do, not who you hope to be," he pointed out, voice dry but holding a little genuine amusement. "But I can ask something else, if you'd prefer."

They were finishing the last window as they spoke, so Jigano watched Loren fill in the last crack and then lifted the lighter bag to his shoulder, giving Astra a pat as he collected his walking stick. "We can donate the rest of this to the medics," he explained, savoring the momentary calmness his mood swings had settled at. "It's also good for wrapping around sprains and swellings, or to help bring down fevers. Or we could take it out to the Temple and start filling in the windows there?" There were fewer windows in the main Temple area, but they were larger, and two people would definitely come in handy for that. "Though... if we do that I could use a little break first," he admitted with a faint grimace as his hands continued to shake as if to deliberately get in the way of Long Night preparations.

loren

”I did.” The idea that Loren, of all people, didn’t have a stake in all this was completely preposterous, and his voice came out immediately and forcefully. He still cared about others, even if they were indifferent or hostile towards him, and rightly so. And given that part of the reason everything in the Hollowed Grounds and with the Fae had gone so poorly was because of his family, so he felt doubly responsible for helping out where he could. ”And all it says is that I went away for a long while and abandoned those I cared about when they needed me most.” He firmly believed that, probably because it had been communicated to him so many times. Still, even then, others couldn’t really do anything to add to the enormous guilt he carried around with him.

Jigano’s explanation about the previous LongNight was a harrowing one, and the summoner shook his head in response. ”No.” No his reasons were not any different. Still, it was literally the least he could do, stuffing moss into crevices. And it had been communicated strenuously to him that he should probably not even be doing that much, since Wessex didn’t want him exercising independent thought.

Unsurprisingly, his mood wasn’t improved when the conversation swung around to his wants and desires; in fact, the shadows in his eyes grew even darker and more hooded. ”Ask away.” For once, talking about the past seemed easier than the future. ”No it’s fine. Although I’d say that what we do is who we are.” Actions spoke louder than words, everyone knew that.

The Launceleyn glanced at their handiwork, surprised they’d already completed their task. ”Let’s take a break and chat, since you wanted to ask me some questions. We can move on when we’re both feeling ready.” Well, mostly when the bard had recovered—because it wasn’t like Loren was tuckered out from their actions—but it would be nice to not have to do anything for a bit. Of course, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to talking, either. Still, he led his way over to one of the many unoccupied beds in the infirmary and sank down in it, Astra curling up at his feet.

Never judge a book by its cover.