Restoration...maybe

Jigano listened grimly to the limitations and uncertainties the goddess placed upon the ‘gift’ she returned to Remi. Still the lorekeeper remained silent, waiting until the deity had withdrawn and Remi had rejoined him, watching the alchemist with a neutral expression, but a sharpness in his eyes. ”And his only chance, now. It sounds like she might have been willing to ‘upgrade’ him if he’d only come and asked on his own. But now that we’ve interfered…” the bard sighed.

”Irreversible,” he repeated the Voice’s words, jaw tightening as he turned to begin the trek back. ”A… permanent alteration, rather than a temporary one.” He had suggested something temporary, a salve similar to what Remi had supposedly made for Isla but, no, the alchemist had wanted something irreversible and had gotten what he came for.

”Do you still plan on going through with this?” he asked quietly instead of shaking the boy like part of him wanted. It wasn’t a small part, either. ”And of telling Sam… at least that he should visit this Voice?”

The alchemist flinched at Jigano's words, the tension in his jaw obvious. His not-quite tear-shiny eyes focused on the sloftly glowing roots extending outwards on the ground. Though Jigano had added in a we to his words, it felt clear that the criticism was directed solely towards Remi. "But he did not." Remi said, voice low and his tone tense. Did Jigano truly care so little about intentions, that the outcome of this situation was all that mattered? The alchemist wasn't sure what he had ever done to deserve such a continually thread of disapproving commentary from the bard and given how little the man actually knew of Remi, he wasn't quite sure he liked it. Following behind the bard, Remi merely shook his head wearily as the man mentioned the temporary solution he'd suggested earlier. Swiping a hand across his eyes, Remi said nothing. He'd already explained why he thought a temporary solution wouldn't get at the heart of Sam's issue, but moreso he merely felt encumbered by Jigano's continued attitude that what he thought should always be the path which was followed. "I suppose Sam still has the choice, even if it comes with unknown consequences..." Remi mused quietly, taking a shaky breath in as they wound their way back out through the underground canals. Part of him very much wanted to say that he was worried Sam would jump at the chance and not think of the consequences of accepting this 'upgrade'. But that would be to doubt his friend's ability to make his own decisions and live with their outcomes, and he did not think so little of Sam to go that far. "But yes, I suppose I will tell him the Voice wants to see him. I'd not have him endure her anger simply because I did not pass along a message." REMI How do you steal what you really want When what you really want is free?

Jigano sighed. "No," he agreed,"he did not. Neither he nor we knew enough about the Voice to suggest it earlier." Hindsight was perfect, after all, and knowing what the Voice had revealed would have changed how the bard would have approached things significantly. But they had not come seeking answers, after all, Remi had come seeking favors, and the lorekeeper had given his approval and done nothing to stop him. He meant the 'we' for he was as much at fault for doing nothing to intervene or change the alchemist's mind when he discovered that the boy had, as usual, ignored his advice and bulled ahead, certain of his own infallibility and rightness in the face of any other opinion or suggestions.

Had he been so insufferably confident at the pup's age? ...Perhaps. But he'd learned, early and painfully, that there were costs and consequences for mistakes. His world had shifted to shades of grey in subtle increments until it was too late to reclaim his naive certainties that good things would happen to good people, but in exchange he'd learned much from his experiences. He wouldn't let the pain of those lessons be for naught. The ones he had lost, or suffered because of his past failures, deserved better.

So it hurt, to have the knowledge he'd earned at such a high price be shoved aside so cavalierly. Perhaps Remi had to learn his own lessons the hard way, but when Sam was the one to pay the price, the bard found his frustration hard to hide. "You and he both," the bard said grimly as they walked in the dark, their lanterns casting shadows all around them. "Tell him of your gift, see what 'adverse effects' might occur... or don't. But if you don't, and you send him to the Voice, she may very well ask him about the... the 'upgrade' she called it? That you didn't give him. That he may come asking about on his own a few days later." Indeed, they had set up shop right next to each other, which could make things awkward indeed if one or the other wanted to avoid running into each other.

The lorekeeper sighed, resisting the urge to reach up and rub at his temples, and the incipient headache starting to form there. "There are no good answers, now," he said quietly. "The best we can hope for is that your device works without adverse effects... but we have no way to guarantee that it will." Or that the Voice hadn't done something else to it while it was in her hands...

"No one ever has all the answers...all the information." Remi agreed—disagreed?—with a small and sad shrug. "Yes. I suppose I do." Glancing down at the object in his hand, Remi slipped it into his pocket. Perhaps he would ask Isla her thoughts, given her recent ascendency perhaps she'd have insight into this. "I think I would rather have Sam make the decision himself. To make it for him seems ... " Remi frowned as he walked. Language never having been his strength, he found it failing even moreso now that his mind and heart were heavy with disappointment. "...patronizing maybe, I do not know." He concluded with a glum sigh, wanting very much to be out of the underground and away from Jigano. As they reached the mouth of the cave, Remi blinked somberly into the daylight. His youthful and exuberant expression had been replaced by one of heartache and confusion. Turning towards the bard, Remi offered him half of a smile, far too tired to force the rest of it onto his face. "Please do not tell Sam about the item. Or...at least, he cannot know that it came from me." In his minds-eye he saw the way the man had looked at him in the cave, offering himself so willingly. How their teeth had clinked together with Sam's fumbling and newness to intimacy, and the memory of that made the alchemist feel sick and unhappy. Indeed he closed his eyes against the imagery, very much wanting to curl up somewhere dark and pray for the injustices of the world to simply be fixed. But importantly, to be fixed without adverse effects. But that was not to be. So instead Remi let his eyes flutter open, widening his weary smile somewhat. "Thank you for accompanying me." REMI How do you steal what you really want When what you really want is free?

Jigano bit back his retort - So we shouldn't even try to find them? - knowing that they boy meant nothing of the sort, but the way he phrased things seemed designed to pick and prod at those he spoke with. At least the Voice and the bard, if no one else. Perhaps he and the goddess were just lucky like that? A dark sort of joke, but the shadows of the underground seemed to encourage such.

He couldn't help but raise a brow as  Remi suddenly made it sound like he hadn't already made decisions for Sam, and was glad he was in front so the expression was hidden. The alchemist had gone ahead with all of this without consulting the bookmaker, deciding he knew what was best for the Ascended, claiming he didn't want to get the red-headed man's hopes up but at the same time working from assumptions that he knew best what Sam wanted - needed? - and that others did not. Nor that Sam himself could handle the knowledge. And yet, now... the bard simply sighed, feeling unaccountably old and so very weary. "You'll do what you will do, Remi, and no one will change your mind," the lorekeeper said quietly.

It had been night when they had entered. Jigano had not thought so much time had passed, and he felt a brief panic at not knowing whether it was the next day or some other day - how much time had flown by, down there in the shrine? He couldn't know until he went to check with others. But he was so very tired... he could see Isla once the sun went down, perhaps. He'd been meaning to ask her about an oddity in the woods. And she might be able to offer insights into Remi's stubborn impetuousness.

He gave a shake of his head, reassuring as well as resigned. "I will keep your secrets, Remi. Even if I don't agree with them." He tilted his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he nodded acknowledgment. "You're welcome, at that. I'm sorry things didn't go as you had hoped." With a brief bow the bard turned to trudge back towards the Sanctuary, seeking solace in the Atheneum and the pages of his beloved books.

Despite the softness of his words, Remi heard them just fine. "What is that supposed to mean?" The alchemist asked, no hint of a demand in his voice, yet a glaze of it in his stare. He'd held his tongue throughout most of Jigano's subtle barbs and jabs. His suggestions that Remi was a thoughtless child who somehow only managed to scrape by and through danger because of mere luck. Whereas the alchemist had made relatively few assumptions about the bard, it seemed that already the other man had the alchemist completely summed up to the point where Jigano was more sure of Remi's actions than the alchemist was. REMI How do you steal what you really want When what you really want is free?

Jigano blinked at the question, looking genuinely curious for a moment before seeing the pugnacious glare in Remi's eyes. "It means exactly what I said," he explained, bone-tired and trying to fight the stirrings of frustrated temper in his chest. "I caught the edge of it when we met, and saw it again at the barrier. Now I know that you have no interest in the advice or opinions of others, and that you will go your own way no matter what anyone else says. You will drop your eyes demurely and sulk or pout if you do not receive the praise and agreement you seek, and then you will go ahead and do what you wanted anyways."

The bard squeezed his eyes closed, rubbing at the insistent pounding in his temple. "And you will insist that it isn't your fault, when consequences fall out on others. Or perhaps you won't - perhaps you will drown yourself in guilt and then throw yourself into danger again and again to make yourself feel better. Feel useful." He groaned softly. This was not a conversation he had wanted to have but... fuck, he was tired. And he was unhappy. And perhaps the boy was due a bit of honesty, unvarnished with pretty words or polished smiles. "But one day you're going to run into trouble you can't claw or fly your way out of, Remi, cloaked in the armor of your stubbornness. You're going to push yourself too hard or too far and you're not going to come back."

He exhaled, looking away again as he raised his lantern to blow out the candle within. "This blind stubbornness of yours is going to hurt a friend of mine, no matter how this ends. And, someday, it's probably going to get you killed. And that will hurt more of my friends. All because you know more than anyone else around you." He found a smile, unexpectedly, but it was a sad one, utterly without joy or humor. "I keep thinking I can stop you from making the mistakes I made when I was your age, if only to save our mutual friends the scars but... I admit, I was taken in by your puppy-dog eyes and quiet demeanor. I only wish I had seen beneath them sooner."

Remi listened. He felt...surprised. Even so his expression remained attentive as he took in the bard's words. "On what evidence do you base any of this?" He asked gently. "I do not know you Jigano, not really, and nor do you know me. If you refer to times you have off-handedly and curtly offered me council, I am not sure why you think that I should simply accept your suggestions or guidance as gospel. I have done nothing but hear you out, but yes, I am still free to choose what it is I do. That does not mean at all that I simply do what I want, regardless." He continued. "As for the barrier, what is it you think you saw? I have never in my life sought praise, nor do I believe that I sulk." Well. That might not have been true. He had indeed sulked quite regularly with Vai, but surely that is what friends were for? "And recently, I asked your opinion of all this. It was you who said that giving the ascended options was better than giving them none, and after I mentioned my worry about Sam and a temporary solution, you gave no further advice. Yet you stand now and criticize me for doing precisely what we spoke about, and then further your criticism to include not having suggested Sam come and do this on his own, despite the fact that neither of us thought of that route before." Raising a brow at the suggestion that Remi would deflect blame caused the alchemist to turn his head, and politely shake it in firm disagreement. If anything it was in the alchemist's nature to accept blame even when it wasn't owed to him, if only because that was how he had been trained by society. Indeed as Jigano continued, Remi's expression grew more and more skeptical. Rushing into danger, to make himself feel better? The alchemist could not think of a time when that had ever been the case. "I cannot believe you have good reasons to think that true at all, Jigano. You do not know me at all if that is what you think, nor do I believe that you do know me. But there is undoubtedly little evidence to support your claims." His words were gentle, his expression muted. It was not hubris or stubbornness, it was the truth. Remi might not know as many things as Jigano did, but he did know himself, well enough at least to know that whatever snippets of his life Jigano was extracting these details from, it was an imperfect picture at best. The final bit merely made Remi shake his head sadly, but the sadness was not for himself. "You are wrong Jigano. Truly I am not sure what I have done to deserve such animosity, but puppy-dog eyes? You go so far as to accuse me of manipulation now?" Remi shook his curly head. "I am not sure what has made you so jaded, nor why you feel the need to control and criticize rather than offer genuine guidance and help." Pausing, Remi's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of mutual friends. "I assume you mean Samuel. But would you have me stay away from Isla too? Since I am such a danger to those I care about?" REMI How do you steal what you really want When what you really want is free?

”Off-hand? On what do you base this?” the bard said when Remi had finished, his voice no less gentle than Remi’s, a deliberate echo of the soft-voiced manipulation after the boy had demanded confrontation instead of letting him depart. ”I have never offered you advice with less than a sincere desire to help you, thought-through and based on the information you yourself have given me – about yourself and the circumstances you were in at the time. Nor have I seen you take a suggestion even once without immediately discarding it, much less considering it… how do you phrase it? Gospel? An odd turn of phrase for someone from a world without religion.”  His lips almost quirked in a tired smile. ”That is, whether you want to admit it or not, the definition of doing what you want, regardless of advice.” He shook his head, grimacing slightly at the mention of the barrier.

”I saw you keep the Ascended from leaving when all others had either turned against him or turned away from him… and then you used the trust he seemed to hold in you to send him towards the barrier in full daylight, when you had to know he would be weakened. You even asked him to touch it, knowing how it affected all other living things, and having just watched it affect magical ones. When common sense alone would have told you that if Ascended could pass the barrier safely, they would have done so generations ago, instead of avoiding it like everyone and everything else. Yet still you urged him to this. What am I to view those actions as? Stubborn pride that refused to back down? Childish ignorance that didn’t think through the consequences? In truth I didn’t know if you were subtly punishing him for upsetting Vervain, or if you were genuinely that negligently cruel. From what I know of you now, I suspect the latter. Your intentions are fine things, Remi, but you don’t know when to stop or listen to anyone. Not merely allow them to speak in your presence without interruption. The two are not the same.” He rubbed at his temples again, trying to think through the pounding pain. ”And then you went and put that damn mask on, despite universal protest from everyone gathered, forcing them into a damn selfish position. No one who cared for you could leave your side, and yet you intended to force the people who loved you to also attack you if the mask caused you to lose control – something you knew full well could happen. What sort of choice was that? You lashed the hearts of everyone there who cared about you with that choice, and forced them to watch you play god. It certainly looked like you were seeking attention – if not praise, then at the very least attention. Awe, perhaps, at your new toy.”

Jigano took a deep breath, calming the faint tremors in his voice. He had been worried about the boy as well, no less shocked and dismayed by Remi’s callous disregard for what he put his friends and family through that day. He looked Remi in the eyes, his own expression tightening. ”And yes, you damn well do deflect and try and pretend like it’s not your fault. When you hauled that walking opera house reject back from where he’d collapsed you had the nerve to tell him that you hadn’t told him to touch the barrier – making it his fault he was hurt – when everyone there heard you say “try to touch the barrier” not a full minute before. Just as it would have been the fault of anyone who chose to stay if you’d lashed out with the mask on and hurt them. As if people trusting you is their fault and no problem of yours.” He wished he could tuck his hands into his sleeves to stop his shivering, but he didn’t want to set his lantern down, taking a strange comfort in the cold metal. It was something hard and real to hold on to, and to use as a focus away from his headache.

”As you are doing here and now. I gave you advice, I suggested something temporary, that could be easily removed if it did not turn out the way Sam wanted. Something that could, perhaps, be a gift to other Ascended as well. If it did work then a more permanent solution could have been pursued… but you were impatient, impetuous, and too stubbornly attached to your first idea. You didn’t want my suggestions, Remi. You just wanted me to agree with your invention and praise it, and when I did not you disregarded my words and went ahead with it anyways. I criticize you for that. Do not pretend like I condoned the permanent ‘patch’ you wanted to make when I specifically suggested against it. You were the one who ended the conversation when I pointed out that he might want different things – different senses, different definitions of ‘normal’ – depending on who he was with.”

He glanced to the entrance to the underground, glaring at the hole as if it were the tunnel’s fault he was forced to stand here in the snow and cold and argue with a young man who seemed oblivious to the harm he caused. As the adult, he should have walked away a long time ago… but, hell, Remi was acting like it was the first time someone had held up his messes to his nose before, and the bard felt like he had to at least try to knock some sense into that young head, figuratively speaking. He took a breath, though, calming his voice back to gentler tones. ”I did not mean to criticize you about Sam not coming here sooner. It was meant as an observation – and, yes, a bitter one that neither of us had thought of it beforehand. When I realized you had taken it poorly I tried to soften it, at least, recognizing that it hurt you. I am sorry for that misunderstanding, and my poor word choice.” A grim apology as he considered how rarely he’d heard such words from Remi in any meaningful way. A thousand empty apologies, it felt like, for things that did not matter or were untrue, and not one for his actions leading to others getting hurt. Was he not already distancing himself from the patch for Sam, in case things went wrong, so the Ascended would not place the blame on him?

And of course, Remi had laid out all his rebuttals in that too-soft voice, acting as pure as any martyr and deliberately goading a strong man’s pride. Jigano had to smile inwardly, a grim little humor, though he kept his face outwardly composed – or as composed as he could be with the insistent pain in his temples and moving in quite rudely behind his right eye. He was a great many things, and proud not the least, but he had no illusions as to his own strength. So he met sadness with sadness, and was frustrated to find it all too genuine. ”Twice, you told me, Ludo nearly lured you to your death. You did not learn the lesson the first time. Nor, it appears, the second. You put the mask on and you started to go straight back to the barrier, heedless of the danger - if not for the lightning witch pulling you back. And despite someone recently getting quite messily killed at the spire, I saw you had another notice up that you intended to go right up to it in bird-form and wanted friends to join you in being extra fodder for any winged predators that might be waiting. Of course I think you fling yourself at trouble, when you act like that.” He exhaled, giving a small shake of his own head – and a wince. ”Consciously or unconsciously, Remi, you go around looking like a kicked puppy at the slightest hint of criticism, all downcast eyes and fluttering lashes and trembling lip. You have made it clear that you do not want guidance or help – not unless it is simply to support what you already want to do.”

”I have told you some of why I am so jaded, but you don’t have the inclination to listen,” the bard said at last, feeling the weariness of defeat in his bones. ”And gods least fortunate! No one said anything about ‘staying away’ from anyone, though if you keep putting words in my mouth I might change my mind! You've made your dislike clear as crystal with that, but all I’ve been asking you to do all this time is to grow up and use a little caution. Be a little less stubborn behind that mild shell you hide behind. And consider, for once, that someone else might have a better idea than you sometimes. Not always – but sometimes.”

Remi flinched slightly, not likely the way it seemed Jigano was mocking him by repeating his exact phrasing back to him. "It seems off-hand given that save for once, I have not actually asked your opinion. You just seem to provide it—as well as a healthy dose of criticism—immediately. You say that what you have to offer is thought-through, but as you even point out, it is based on information I have given to you and always comes immediately. The day we met in the library? You judged me so harshly based on a meager description of events I offered, as if the glossy overview from one stranger to another was anything to base an entire character description off of. And yet you did. We were not friends then, nor are we now. You were a stranger who needed the books I had at the time. You can understand why your remarks about my character and how I ought to conduct myself given what information you had at the time came across off-hand and callous." Perhaps it was because they were simply too different, but Remi could not imagine the confidence or ego it would take to simply think others wanted to hear his opinions on things without first being asked. Even if, as Jigano mentioned, he had a wealth of life experience at his fingertips, did that really give him the permission to cast it about, criticizing those who failed to heed his warnings? To laud it over others in this way? Raising a brow, Remi frowned and shook his head again. "Really." The alchemist asked flatly. "Not, 'Remi become a bird and attack its eyes, or Remi I wanted to study the creature why did you bury it..?" He could list any number of examples even in their short time knowing each other of when he had indeed taken Jigano's suggestions, not to mention the evidence of any of his other relationships. "You told me that here there was no hierarchy, and yet you fault me for offering my own points of view and following them, as if I am still meant to abide by those who consider themselves my betters." Remi continued, chin rising slightly. Jigano would surely deny that he did think of himself this way,  but from the alchemist's point of view, the bard acted like any Lord or Duke would have back in Northaven. "Keep the ascended from leaving." Remi muttered with cold horror. "His name is Archebold." He added, wondering if this borderline racist phrasing was intentional on the bard's part. Remi hadn't believed the ex-captain when he said that some still viewed his kind with hostility, and Sam not withstanding, Jigano seemed to be doing just that. "We can both understand why Vai would not want him to drink from her. Why none of the others would have wanted that, but are you really suggesting that when a friend came to offer his aid, I should have just asked him to leave? Further ostracized him?" For all Jigano's talk about friendship, he certainly had a strange view of how others were meant to treat theirs. Immediately Remi shook his head. "No, Sam only recently mentioned to me about how daylight effects them. In Northaven they could go about as they pleased. Archebold is one of the strongest of his kind I have encountered here, and did not appear to show any ill-effects when he arrived. Indeed I have seen Sam in the daylight as well. As for the barrier itself, it was simply a way of gathering information. If magic could have broken through surely that would have been done so by now as well. I did not expect Archebold to pass through, merely to see what effects it had on an entirely different sort of body." The mention of asking him to touch it did make Remi bow his head, and nod in somber agreement. Though his voice had remained as gentle and soft as it ever had, now it notched lower in pitch as he sighed sadly. "A poor choice of words on my part. When I asked him to see if he could touch it, what I was wanting was for him to merely see how close he could get. Archebold was one of the highest ranking captains in Northaven. I hold no authority over him whatsoever; he is not the type to blindly follow orders. I thought it went without saying that he should call a halt should he begin to feel the effects of the barrier." Colour bloomed on the alchemist's cheeks as he ran a distracted hand through his mop of curls. He very much wanted to say something about how the bard had not lent a hand in retrieving the fallen captain, but refrained. It felt petty, and so Remi merely sighed away the urge to try and claw his way out of whatever grave he was inadvertently digging for himself. The mention of the mask brought his eyes into focus, and he levelled a solemn but confident stare towards the bard. "Yes. That is true. But all of my friends would attack without hesitation, and have in the past, without feeling guilt nor would I ever hold them accountable. True, Zariah is not one I would in anyway consider a friend, but given her reputation she would not lose an ounce of sleep over doing what needed to be done. Especially to a commoner like me." At the mention of playing god, Remi merely shook his head with disappointed wonder. He was starting to think that the bard used such phrases merely to get a rise out of him, because if he truly believed that such was the case, Remi really had no recourse with which to defend himself, it was so far from the truth. "Perhaps you should look closer, if that is what you thought you saw. What better time to try an item such as that, then when I was surrounded by those closest to me, who would ensure that harm did not befall anyone else, the strongest in magic and in heart? And no one said not to put it on, not that I heard, though unlike you, those gathered would not take my decision as some sort of personal affront had they thought I should not and did anyways. I appreciate Zariah and Vai's concern, but I took a step forward before righting myself. " "I did want your suggestions, which is why I asked for them." The alchemist reiterated. Though this seemed very much like a conversation they'd now already had at this point. "I told you why I did not think a temporary solution was what the aim of such a device should be, and you offered nothing further. And I do not look for your praise, Jigano."  Remi said, growing quite weary of how often the bard seemed to believe he knew Remi's own mental states better than the alchemist did himself. But Jigano seemingly wouldn't be deterred from thinking that Remi was anything other than some attention-seeking idiot, and so the alchemist tried to let his hurtful words merely fall. "It is not that I find myself in dangerous situations that I disagree with you about. It is that you think I do so for attention, or praise. Ludo said we might find our answers at the top of the Spire. Who else, besides a group of birds might reasonably be able to investigate such a claim? You were not there Jigano. You did not see our precautions, our methods." The mention of him being a kicked puppy simply made him raise a brow, that look of simple and complete shocked confusion welling in his pale gaze. "Do you hear yourself Jigano? You, who barely know me at all, now find fault with how I blink, the way my lips move? A kicked puppy?  Does your dislike really run so deep that you find flaws with my expressions?" Gently Remi shook his head again. "Perhaps it is simply your guidance or help that I do not want, for thus far you've provided very little of it. As I said, I do not know you. My trust in my family and friends far exceeds the words of a stranger who picks at the way I blink. Offering guidance and help is not the same as offering criticisms after the fact." "When you began to tell me of your world, I quite literally told you that I couldn't imagine. That Northaven was small. I had nothing with which to understand what you were saying, and then you failed to say anymore. " Running a hand across his forehead, like Jigano, he too was feeling the effects of this conversation just behind his eyes as well. "No, you did not say that in so many words. But if you want to keep your friends safe and you believe that I am a danger to them and will bring nothing but hurt, then I would assume your preference would indeed be that I stay away." Remi rephrased, tired of the way Jigano seemed to do anything but twist his words into their least favourable meanings. REMI How do you steal what you really want When what you really want is free?

Jigano couldn’t help but tilt his head curiously as the boy’s dislike and simmering resentment finally came to a head, gushing out in a torrent of sharp words, finding himself more bemused than angry at realizing how completely the pup had misjudged him. ”Ahhh, I see. You have never seen a stranger and wanted to help them before you were friends with them, so you have trouble understanding that, when you seemed so unhappy, I wanted to offer what meager aid I could. I was still learning about this world, still trying to find a place I could fit into the fabric of this land. But I know people, Remi, and I know pain and loss. I wanted to help you with that experience, when I could barely help myself… and perhaps, yes, that was a mistake. I should have withheld attempts to reach out, as you seem to be saying you would do. I should focus only on those I already know and have built trust and friendships with… except, of course, not all of us were so lucky as to appear with all those helpful little networks and relationships intact. I did not intend to come off as callous, and I know that nothing I said was ‘off-hand’ as you keep insisting. But, since we agree that intentions matter less than results, I will apologize for causing you distress when I had only intended the opposite.” He spoke quietly, gently, though he dared not bow with how his head was pounding. Instead he offered a small, careful nod of acknowledgment.

”Admittedly, I didn’t ‘suggest’ you attack the boggart,” he continued dryly, looking up again. ”I ordered that – and I appreciate that you did so. I will apologize for that, too, if you wish, though I will give you fair warning that I would do the same again in that situation. My… past is not without violence, and when I traveled with companions through dangerous areas they relied on me to strategize and coordinate our teamwork. In that moment, I considered you someone I could rely on, a teammate I could work with – and someone I wished to protect and have capable of retreating quickly if the creature proved too much for us. I reacted accordingly, on an impulse that saved my life and the lives of others on many occasions. But if I had not given that order, Remi, I am curious – what would you have chosen to do? Did you take my ‘suggestion’ in that moment in spite of a different plan you had already formed, or because it was already in line with your own instincts?” He sighed, squeezing the handle of the lantern as he fought the urge to grit his teeth. Remi’s youth was more apparent with every moment, his stubbornness more and more obvious. And Jigano… well. The boy did not know him, did not want to know him, and had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with him. ”I am grateful that you granted me that favor,” he said, voice controlled and soft, ”though you were the one to bury the creature in the first place, without worrying about my reactions or desires. As high-handed and abrupt as any lord, until I confronted you on the short-sightedness of it. As you have made this decision for Sam, without speaking to him first. I am not the only one who acts as though I know better than others.” A wry spark of humor in the weary darkness of his heart, at that thought. Something they had in common. A pity it was a flaw, and not a strength.

”Archebold? Really? I didn’t catch his name when he snuck up on me at the Bridge when I was alone and mourning my lost ones, and lovingly described how he would give me a slow, painful death,” the bard responded dryly. ”Usually I appreciate introductions, perhaps flowers, before that sort of thing, so you might understand why I find him an unforgivably rude and dangerously unhinged predator, rather than a potential friend.” Given that he had been the only Ascended there that day, and that the other appellations that Jigano gave him in the privacy in his own thoughts were far worse, he had gone with one of the more neutral descriptors he could of the man… though since Remi was already assuming the worst about him, he doubted there was any way to convince the boy otherwise. ”From the responses of the others there, they feel similarly. You’ve made it clear that you don’t trust me – but since you claim to at least trust them perhaps you should ask their opinions of him?” He raised a brow, but only briefly before the pain in his temple smoothed the expression out again. ”Since you once again seem to insist on putting words in my mouth, I don’t see anything else I could say on the matter. I didn’t suggest ostracizing him – that was all you, just now. I was more concerned that, as much as I dislike him, you were the one to abuse his apparent trust and friendship in you to fling him at the barrier like one of your other magic weapons. Whether you intended it or not, it looked like you were punishing him for what he said to Vervain. Though, I admit, I would rather a friend ask me to leave a gathering where I was unwelcome than have them ask me to spend my life and pain in a fit of pique.” Again the brow twitched, but this time he controlled the reaction and simply shook his head. ”Ahhh yes, again that deflection. You asked him to do something, but when he does it and is hurt because of it, it’s his fault for trying to do as you ask, and none of yours.”

Ahh her name was Zariah, then? Jigano tilted his head, nodding thoughtfully at the name and tucking it away along with Archebold’s. ”Are you sure they never felt guilt when they had to attack you?” he asked gently. ”Maybe that is true, but in my experience, when you have to hurt a friend even for their own good or your own defense, when they are being controlled by another… it does hurt, and there is regret and guilt afterwards, however illogical. The heart is not so simple a thing, Remi. Or would you feel no pain if Vervain, say, put on Ludo’s mask and began lashing out, and you had to strike her with blade or claw to remove it? Would seeing the scar you left on her truly  leave you untouched?” He hoped not. He hoped the boy was not so cold. But he had been wrong about him before.

”I heard several curses as we watched, but most people looked too rooted in disbelief that you were doing such a thing to move to stop it,” the bard said dryly. ”But you were too focused on your course to pay mind to them. I do wonder: did you ask anyone else about the mask before that day? And what their reactions or advice were?” Or was it any different than this upgrade he wanted to give to Sam – something put on without considering consequences for himself or anyone else? Aside, of course, from ‘I’ll make my loved ones hurt me to get it off if it turns out to be a trick.’

The bard remembered the day in the maze just as clearly, and knew that Remi was the one who had offered no response to his gentle prodding that perhaps Sam might want something different, so the bard had stopped pushing… how strange, that his advice was only wanted, it seemed, when he respected the very boundaries Remi put up to avoid it. ”Rest assured, I shall not burden you with it, then,” he said dryly of his praise instead. He doubted they would be speaking much at all after this, so he doubted it would come up again any time soon.

”From all that we have seen and learned in that meeting, common sense would indicate that we need to enter the spire and reach the top from inside,” he continued, voice no less dry. ”Your stunt was, luckily, harmless, but if your methods were like those at the barrier I have reason to worry. No controls on the experiment, no protection for those who might have been caught in backblasts… I saw no reason, when we began, to think that the barrier would only return the attacks on the caster and not over a widespread area. Why should I think your assault on the top of the spire would prove any more well-thought out?”

Gods least fortunate, the pup’s widened eyes and confusion only made the simile more apt, and he almost laughed. He was in too much pain for that however, and merely snorted softly. ”I wish you could see yourself right now,” he murmured. ”Focusing on toss-away comments like some kind of ‘gotcha’ even while you embody them all the more. Well. You are right that I should never have agreed to come with you today or any other. You have expressed no interest in getting to know me, of learning about my world or anything other than what you had already decided about me… How many questions have you considered asking? Shown curiosity for? You talk about yourself and then say I can’t possible understand you. Meanwhile you seem to have formed your opinion of me, possibly even from our first meeting, considering how you keep going back to that, based on far less.” He curled his fingers more tightly around the lantern, trying to work a bit of feeling into them when he realized they had gone numb. He wished his heart would do the same… it was already well on its way, after this conversation. ”You will assume what you like, you have made that plain,” he said tiredly. ”And I can argue and try to correct you about my own words until I am hoarse with it, and it won’t change your stubborn assumptions, will it? If you don’t mind then, young lordling, I’ll leave you to your cherished misconceptions of me and be on my way.”

Not used to dealing with such long verbal tirades, Remi shook his head with disbelief. "Do you ever cease your wild generalizations Jigano? Of course I have helped strangers. What I have not done however, is criticize them openly in the first seconds of our interactions. Aid? You did nothing but judge me prematurely and then offer your own condemnations. That hardly seems like aid." Closing his eyes, Remi could only sigh. "I did not ask for an apology or to consider what I might or might not have done, only to show that your generalizations are unwarranted. I have accepted many of your suggestions, or orders, without argument. Even in this you are cruel Jigano, it feels as though all your words are meant simply to lay a trap for me to fall into. Had I another plan in mind, surely you'll argue I would have done that instead, and if I had nothing? Well, then I was not really following your suggestions, just filling in the blanks. Is that not it? Why bait me into arguing about eventualities when I am just trying to show you that the picture you have painted is wrong?" His voice had taken on a rather boyish and pleading tone now. Youthful obstinance Jigano would likely think, a need to be liked. But being misunderstood and faulted for it was a difficult thing to endure. The thought of the not-Loren, buried in the ground, made Remi shiver. "So I was meant to tailor my actions while in the maze to what was best for you, then? I know nothing of you Jigano, but I feel that someone else in that situation might have been a touch more understanding given what you know of me. A simple, "ahh, I had wanted to study that, could you un-bury it please?" would have sufficed. But for some reason I am not deserving of your understanding or patience. Any perceived misstep on my part is met with critique from you. I cannot for see every single question I ought to ask of you. " Grinding his teeth together, Remi balled his hands into fists, a quiet and unhappy flickering of upset brewing behind his pale stare, as he fixed Jigano with it. "He kissed me. In the cave." Remi blurted suddenly, the colour in his cheeks high, eyes shiny with either sadness or rage. "When he had to feed...the feeling was...it was..." The outrage started to pull back, and Remi found his nails falling from the palms of his hands. "It felt like pure passion. And in the dark of the cave, both swept up by it, Sam kissed me, and I kissed him back." All fluttery lashes and shaky breaths—something Jigano would surely call him out for in a moment—Remi tried to pull himself back. "He offered...himself. He nearly killed me in that cave, quite literally, and I think I would have allowed it too." The alchemist tried to say the first part delicately, a brow arched suggestively, feeling it far too intimate and precious a thing to speak out loud, especially in this circumstance. The second with a dire and solemn expression, one suggesting that he alchemist was in no way proud of this revelation. "Obviously I could not. Not because of what Sam is or is not...but he ... I think that was likely his first kiss, much less anything else. I would never want Sam rush into something like that, especially not when it was all so much in such a short time. That was when he found himself upset, saying he wanted to feel normal." Then, realizing precisely how that sounded, Remi swiped a hand across his eyes and sighed. "I went to see him after, to make sure he was alright and I brought him tea I made, since you said he was rather fond of it. The look in his eyes when he asked me to describe the taste to him, how he couldn't even feel the feather I gave him on his palm.." Now the shine was certainly sadness and was painfully obvious, even as the alchemist's eyes swept the ground. "I could not ask Sam first, because I did not want to get his hopes up, as I told you." Remi continued, voice back to an even and gentle pitch. "But I also could not bear the thought of him thinking that I wanted this for him, for me. Even if I were never to see Sam again, I would want this for him if he wants it for himself.  That was why I asked that he not know it was I who initiated this. Why I could not casually broach the subject." He'd not put down his friend by describing the almost pleading and desperate look in his eye, as he'd leaned back and offered himself in the cave. Explanation over, Remi sighed as the emotion rolled over him, listening as Jigano described what had occurred between himself and Archebold. Remi flinched and frowned as the tale went on, looking unhelpfully uneasy. "I am sorry for that. And you are right, it is worth speaking to Vai and Ashe about their associations with him, but in that moment it did not seem to be the right time." Exhaling, Remi nodded and bowed his head slightly. "Perhaps you are right. As I have said, in Northaven I would never be able to command a grouping of those individuals as I did. I have never been a leader, nor much of anything in my life. My instincts in cases such as that are simply to keep the peace. Perhaps you might have gotten to the heart of the issue right then and there, and sent Archebold away. Perhaps you take on the reasonings of your friends as your own, I do not know. But I do not. I did what I thought best at the time." Tired of arguing, Remi merely shook his head. A fit of pique? Had he not already defended himself against that charge? It seemed that while Jigano did not like the implications Remi was making, the bard was fine with putting words into the alchemist's mouth. But no matter. Archebold was certainly not one to argue over, for either of them. "I did not mean it as a deflection. Merely so that you might understand and perhaps consider not judging me so harshly for what I did, if you understood why." As for the question, Remi nodded. "Yes." He said confidently. "I have asked and they have all said they would do so again in a heartbeat. It is why I was not worried about asking it of them. And no, I could not do the same for them." Remi replied with an immediate shake of his head, sending an errant curl before his eyes that he quickly brushed away. "Perhaps I am not so good a friend as they are to me, or not as strong, but no I could not. I am lucky to have them." "Curses are not the same as asking me not to." The alchemist mumbled as a reply. "And no, I did not, for precisely the reasons you already assume. It was a dangerous thing, I well might have died." Of course that was what Jigano wanted to hear. "Which is why I did not ask them. Vai is like a mother to me, and while she did understand afterwards, she might well have tried to talk me out of it. So in this, yes. Stubborn, reckless, whatever you want to call me, I will accept. My life is not precious and before you say that my death would hurt others, I do know that. But we have decided to make escaping this place a priority, and in that, if sacrifices are to be made, better it be me than any of them." At the mention of his flight, Remi could only sigh once again. "It was worth ruling out. You know as well as I do that this place is not always as it seems." As he continued mentioning controls, etc, Remi could only shake his head. "We are not all so well-versed in magical experimentation as you apparently Jigano. But your knowledge of such does not give you the right to be so needlessly cruel and critical. We are allowed to make our own mistakes. Are there better ways? Your ways? Of course. But if you are so keen to decide how everyone ought to conduct themselves and offer your views on how we ought to blink and conduct our friendships, then perhaps instead of your Loreseekers guild you ought to just given yourself a proper crown." "I have relatively few thoughts on you Jigano. Perhaps less now. I don't pretend to know your mind or your ambitions as you do mine. Do I want to get to you know you? After you insult me, but then scoff when I mention it? You say you want to help, but you have done little to me other than insult and in almost every way indicate that I have not met your standards. " Remi took a step back, recoiling as Jigano called him a lordling. "I am sorry for the things I have done to make you speak of me so." Remi said in a sad but genuine voice. One that would likely make Jigano smirk. If he thought the alchemist looked young before, Remi certainly felt it now. "Perhaps you think little of my intentions when the outcomes of my actions do not go according to plan. You council patience and planning, which I will heed in the future. But you have been needlessly cruel Jigano, and even if you have not meant to be, I have said it enough now and you have merely continued. Nothing I do is for attention or praise. Misguided and poorly executed my life may be, but I do not think I am deserving of the harshness you have shown me tonight." Swallowing down tears and exhaustion, the alchemist—the commoner—merely nodded, eyes on the pavement. "Goodnight Jigano." REMI How do you steal what you really want When what you really want is free?