Lily acquiesces without argument, and Seiji smiles approvingly at her. “Thank you,” he murmurs. He is not sure why she decides to look at him instead, but he holds her gaze for a moment before he blinks at the tunnel wall again. He is not entirely certain what to make of this creature, though he wishes to ease the sorrow thick in its voice. Perhaps it was banished down here because of its ugliness. That would explain its aversion to being seen.
But if it dislikes being seen, it dislikes whatever it remembers far more intensely. Seiji starts, his body naturally drawing upward, holding a kind of stillness. But he realizes soon enough it’s only crying. Then his expression changes, and he glances at Lily, a question in his eyes. “A cage?” he asks, frowning. His expression asks her, silently — do you know anything about this?
But perhaps, if it all happened long ago, only the creature itself remembers. “I am sorry,” Seiji directs toward it, “to make you remember that.” He considers, questions lingering in his dark eyes. Should they leave it? Should they try to bring it with them? His heart aches to think of abandoning it to the dark, but he cannot be certain it has any desire to tag along, to find the library… If terrible things happened to it here…
And this all plants a seed of doubt, one Seiji does not pay much attention now, but which will surely blossom some time later on: Could Amalia’s goddess know of this? Be responsible for it?
“We have to go,” Seiji says aloud, as much for himself, for Lily, as for the creature. A question. A reminder of their purpose. He is no more certain now than he was when he first arrived in Caido, though his voice betrays none of this fact. “We promised our friends we would look for this library. If… if you would like to come with us, you may walk behind, and we will not look at you.” He hopes Lily will not disagree. She seems a kind woman. He gives her a meaningful glance as he adds, “I was alone when I first arrived here. It was very difficult. But…” He tilts his head toward the creature again. “If you want to stay here, we will not tell anyone where you are, so they will not come down here. No one will put you in a cage.”
A steeliness enters his voice with the last statement. He may know very little of Caido, and less still of defending himself, but the idea of someone harming this malformed, sorrowful thing feels him with vehement disgust. Much moreso than the creature itself. Finished speaking, though, he gestures down the tunnel, waiting for Lily to acknowledge she is ready.
But if it dislikes being seen, it dislikes whatever it remembers far more intensely. Seiji starts, his body naturally drawing upward, holding a kind of stillness. But he realizes soon enough it’s only crying. Then his expression changes, and he glances at Lily, a question in his eyes. “A cage?” he asks, frowning. His expression asks her, silently — do you know anything about this?
But perhaps, if it all happened long ago, only the creature itself remembers. “I am sorry,” Seiji directs toward it, “to make you remember that.” He considers, questions lingering in his dark eyes. Should they leave it? Should they try to bring it with them? His heart aches to think of abandoning it to the dark, but he cannot be certain it has any desire to tag along, to find the library… If terrible things happened to it here…
And this all plants a seed of doubt, one Seiji does not pay much attention now, but which will surely blossom some time later on: Could Amalia’s goddess know of this? Be responsible for it?
“We have to go,” Seiji says aloud, as much for himself, for Lily, as for the creature. A question. A reminder of their purpose. He is no more certain now than he was when he first arrived in Caido, though his voice betrays none of this fact. “We promised our friends we would look for this library. If… if you would like to come with us, you may walk behind, and we will not look at you.” He hopes Lily will not disagree. She seems a kind woman. He gives her a meaningful glance as he adds, “I was alone when I first arrived here. It was very difficult. But…” He tilts his head toward the creature again. “If you want to stay here, we will not tell anyone where you are, so they will not come down here. No one will put you in a cage.”
A steeliness enters his voice with the last statement. He may know very little of Caido, and less still of defending himself, but the idea of someone harming this malformed, sorrowful thing feels him with vehement disgust. Much moreso than the creature itself. Finished speaking, though, he gestures down the tunnel, waiting for Lily to acknowledge she is ready.
