[ The word, for a moment, almost doesn't register.
When it does it's like he moves on autopilot, knees bending as he lowers himself to sit on the edge of the lacquered wood beams making up the flooring of that porch, legs dangling over the side to toe at gravel. His hand comes to rest at his side, gesturing to the place next to him as if to offer Kaladin a seat. ]
( For a split second, he believes Noctis' legs have given out. He mechanically lowers himself without saying anything that might make Kaladin anticipate an action. A sudden, aborted step is taken, but he uses its momentum to carry him to his friend's side.
He eases down, and his boots plant firmly in loose stones. )
And I was selfish. I ignored your pain and prioritized mine. It's okay, Noctis.
It's okay, ( he says again, but softly. It'd sounded too matter-of-fact the first time. Practical. Unreachable. The way his father would say it. )
[ It's easy to ignore it as a neutral platitude the first time Kaladin says it, but not the second. He chances a look at a young man who appears resolute but sincere, sure he has as many regrets as Noctis himself does. By contrast his own expression matches exactly how he feels: reflective, but a little lost. ]
... thanks.
If you've got questions I'll answer them, obviously. Otherwise I can tell you what I know. In my words.
( Strength before weakness. Noctis looks at him. Despite it all, he meets Kaladin's eyes.
Kaladin smiles back. )
It's worth a great deal to me.
( Silence is allowed to briefly settle between them. Arm to arm, they sit looking out together over the dormitory's sparse garden. Kaladin leans down to select a small rock that catches his eye, letting the rain expose its colour and pattern. )
I have questions, but I want to say something first if that's alright.
It doesn't appear forced, not like any attempts of his own to match it would. It's... a warmth and comfort he wants to thank him for after such an overwhelming fear that had gripped him in that fight, but his throat tightens around any attempt to tell him. ]
You're my friend, Noctis, but you're also a member of Bridge Four.
( His thumb strokes dirt off the rock's surface, helping to clean it. Striations become clearer, beige and brown undulations in a parallel. The lines flow to the back of the rock where they meet and form around an inclusion of quartz.
It's pretty. So, he takes Noctis' cold hand from its resting place on the engawa and presses it into his palm. )
Bridge Four represents freedom. The freedom to live well while doing what you believe is right. To know with certainty that wherever you are, however difficult things become, you're not alone.
( Kaladin's fingers fold Noctis' closed, then cup the back of his hand. The rock is warm despite the rain. )
No royal duty can supersede that. And it'll always be yours.
[ No glove shields either hand since he'd been dressed down for eventual sleep when the conversation began, feet equally bare and wearing simple grey cloth pants and a black shirt that do nothing against the cold. It doesn't matter. He hardly feels it when Kaladin touches him, a brush of fingers at first that he almost speaks up against before he forces himself to relax.
What a simple thing. Yet his desire to examine that rock and its unique designs is surpassed only by his unwillingness to unfurl fingers and jeopardize Kaladin's hold on him.
He wants it. Everything Kaladin describes, that unity even in independence, that sense of choice even with a common purpose. Deep down, he knows it's what he's always wanted but never been able to put into words. ]
Kaladin, I'm... [ Words trail off as he looks down at their hands, briefly in awe of how quickly they'd gone from shouts and insults to this. It brings with it an overwhelming feeling of security. ]
I'll always do what I think is right. I'll fight the bastards who attacked my country, and I'll protect my people. [ Here he looks up again, finally. ] But freedom? My life's not mine. I've known that since I was born.
( His hands remain beneath Noctis' closed around the rock. Unthinkingly, he's done what Tien once did for him. Such a simple gesture meant so much to him, now used by him. He looks down, but not where they touch.
Blue eyes stare up at him, wide and vulnerable. Kaladin's eyelids grow heavy in their singular focus. )
I don't know what it means to rule, but I understand how hard it is to lead. Though, I'm no expert on balancing duty with being my own man. But in the narrow spaces between everyone's expectations, I must believe you have time to make your life yours.
Maybe... you can be a new ruler. One no one's ever known. ( He finally removes his hands. Not before a final squeeze, thumb trailing from a paler knuckle as it'd done with their rock. ) If I've learned anything in the past couple of years, it's that we're all making it up as we go along. Even kings. Even gods.
[ Rain picks up and beats steadily against his knees but he hardly seems to notice as his grip on that rock tightens, feeling that he's weak for needing so many assurances from Kaladin but equally that he's allowed to have them. It's jarring. ]
Ah... copying someone else won't work for me, that's for sure. I figured that out a long time ago too. [ He will never be Regis, stalwart and unflinching. He'll never be like Ignis, or Gladio. He'll never be like Kaladin either, able to see in all of them the traits he'd like to have while blind to so many of his own. ]
If I'm honest? [ He leans forward now, welcoming rain drops against his face again as he rests elbows against his thighs to abandon the shelter of the eaves. ]
I felt that for the first time when I got here. That I could do anything I wanted and that nobody was expecting anything else. That'd earn me a lecture if I said it back home... [ And there's finally a hint of a wry smile when he pictures it, not desperate for the restrictions to return but certainly missing those who imposed them. ]
But you just made that feeling for yourself back on Roshar without waiting for someone to give it to you. That's not bad, Kaladin.
( Their thoughts parallel, with one difference: While Noctis admires the traits of his family and friends, his are admired by Kaladin. If he were to copy someone else, it would dilute the things that make Noctis Noctis. The things that will make him a tremendous king.
Kaladin relaxes against one of the columns framing their section of the engawa, watching Noctis lean forward into the rain. The smile he wears is different than those he's seen on him previously. )
"Narrow spaces," ( he quotes himself, little more than a murmur. It's not intended to be heard and commented on; it's simply something he finds amusing. Time has been forced upon them here. He used to hate it, but Noctis has a point. They can do anything they want. ) If you're looking for the same lecture from me, you won't get it. You're not the kind of man who can easily forget who needs him. Neither am I.
I wasn't always like this, though. And I stillβ
( Lifting a leg up with them, Kaladin rests his arm on his knee. )
The thing is... I had to make that feeling. Even then, if I didn't have guidance, Noctis, I'd be... ( At the bottom of a chasm. Washed out to sea in the next Highstorm. ) I'd be elsewhere.
Bridge Four saved me. Adolin. Shallan. Syl. I'm hopeless alone.
[ It's refreshing to hear that confidence from someone else. He's heard he's strong, that he's capable, but far less often is he given credit for remembering what it is he needs to do and who he needs to do it for. ]
Yeah? I figured that out by the second time you messaged me, you know. [ A gentle tease but a true one, this time not said to distract from the weight of Kaladin's admissions but to complement them. They've relied on each other a lot here in the absence of friends back home, haven't they?
That rock remains in his hand, held tightly still. ]
... the last thing my old man said to me was that I needed to walk tall. Hold my head up. And before that he told my friends to look out for me. Even called me "wayward" without them... and he was right. After he got killed I wanted to rush back into the city, and they kept me steady. [ Them, and Cor. His father's trusted comrade. ] Who knows. That might've saved my life.
[ For him, it's wordy. Being so honest about what's happened and so recently takes a toll, but he won't make the same mistake again of keeping Kaladin in the dark. ]
... it'd be cool to meet them. Your friends.
In the meantime I guess I'm your guidance and you're mine.
( The humour doesn't land, but it's distantly appreciated by Kaladin whose mental illness has only ever been treated by Adolin with levity. He and Noctis have similarities he's noticed before yet never admired till now. They're familiar, make light of dark subject matter, and are, therefore, comforting.
Balms for a raw soul. )
I wasn't subtle, it seems...
( Noctis talks about his father, and Kaladin listens without comment. Sometimes, to be next to someone is enough. Words aren't needed to communicate a point. They're here for each other when it counts, and that's precious to Kaladin, who considers himself now bound to Noctis.
Losing a family member feels impossible. You live as though you have all the time in the world to say what you need to. You're convinced that nothing so devastating as a father's or a brother's death could ever happen to youβhow could it? You love them, and the cosmere can't simply take that away.
Then it does.
His eyes soften on Noctis, though his expression remains drawn. ) "Walk tall"... He sounds like he was a man who was proud of his peopleβhis son most of all. Fathers speak in opposites, in my experience. Chastisements are encouragements. And in wanting what's best for us...
( They can occasionally miss the mark. )
... I think love is expressed through worry. Your family and friends, and mine, too... they're good. Truly good.
( He misses them. All of them. But a little less when he's with Noctis. )
What do you think our new duties entail? More nights like this? That... wouldn't be so bad, I think.
[ That's what had stuck out early, after all. From his first time meeting Kaladin during his surly assessment of New Year's activities to the first time he reached out to complain β rightfully β about their fellow Outsiders. He considers himself in rare company as someone Kaladin's been able to speak with freely. A member of Bridge Four. Someone who worries about him as much as he worries back.
So if that's what love is... ]
Ah, I can deal with worry and critiques, so your friends can do their worst. Wait until you meet mine. [ Who would give him the toughest time? It'd have to be Ignis, right? Why can he see him getting along with Gladio a little too well at first... ]
Anyway... maybe a few nights with more sparring and less talking. Feels like I've been running my mouth too much lately.
But I guess... before I stop, I can handle those questions now.
The Almighty knows that's true, ( Kaladin laughs quietly, pressing his head back against the wooden column. His eyes find a black sky, uttering a quiet "yeah" to Noctis' intent to speak less next time. To spar, exhausting himself physically instead of mentally.
Because this is a marathon run of the mind they're close to completing, and Kaladin wants to lie down and hold something. )
Bridge Four... would love you. Adolin and Shallan, too. My mother, my little brother... All of them, Noctis. ( Thinking how much sobers him, dimly aware of a new, formless ache in his chest. It takes shape the longer they speak quietly on the engawa, where Noctis' outline glows from an outdoor light in the garden. )
Your data file... It mentioned you were to save Eos. What does it need saving from? The military you mentioned before?
[ The rain is erratic now. Coming in waves of thunderous drops and gentle patter, gusts of wind forcing sheets of water against a messy mop of dark hair. It's satisfying. And it feels like the cold is combatting a high temperature, unidentified emotions burning away at his insides like coals as their conversation continues. ]
Geeze... that's you, alright. Not pulling any punches.
[ The one about Eos lands, of course. But so does the pleasant ache of Kaladin's reassurances that his loved ones would embrace Noctis in return. Fingers slick back unruly bangs before wiping hurriedly at his face, disguising the action with a quick shrug. ]
There's no easy answer. Luna... she's the only one who said anything to me, when we were kids. She said I'd purge the star... cleanse it, something like that.
Niflheim needs to be forced out of my country, I know that. I'll do it myself, gladly. [ Fingers curl into a fist against wood slats as his temper flares, forcing himself to breathe through it. ]
But it's not just people Eos has to deal with. There's the Starscourge. Hard to explain... but it's like a disease. For a long time we've had Oracles who healed anyone who got infected, but recently it's like it's gotten even worse. People are even saying the nights are lasting longer, and maybe it's got something to do with it.
I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do against something like that.
( It'd be easy to consider Noctis passionless. Ordinarily, and with most people, he isn't demonstrative with strong emotion. His society had a hand in beating him down, as did Kaladin's, where menβespecially men in positions of powerβhad no right to "feminine" feelings. Sadness, guilt, regret. Mourning. This has contributed to much repression in Noctis, but it combines with his born personality: He's awkward, quiet sometimes, and a bit shy.
This outwardly manifests in subtle expressions. Subtle disappointment, subtle worry, subtle need. The rest hides in his body language. Stiff shoulders, flexing fingers, hands on the hips, crossed arms. Long stares. Closed eyes.
After getting to know him slowly and over several long months, Kaladin has wisely updated his opinion. Because Noctis is unexaggeratedly one of the most passionate people he's ever met. His love for his kingdom is intrinsic, and his love for his friends surmounts that. Despite Noctis' deep unwillingness to fulfill his role as King, there's no doubt in Kaladin's mind he'll sacrifice an average life to do it. It shows in the tears mixing with rainwater on his face. In the tight cords in his forearms as he makes fists. He tries to wipe it away, to calm himself down, but it's clearer than Kaladin's affection for him: He's distraught. Angry. He's thoughtful. Sensitive.
Now, Kaladin's not sure how he could've ever expected so little of him. How anyone could've.
He extracts himself from his seat by the column, carrying himself in an unelegant half-crouch to Noctis' side. Then he deposits himself next to him, letting the rain soak through wet hair again. Being shoulder to shoulder feels better, like he's acting comforting somehow; selfishly, it's not for Noctis, but Kaladin hopes it settles his heart, too. )
I'm sorry, ( Kaladin whispers. He gathers his knees close, against his chest and beneath his chin, before pillowing his head there. Watching his friend under a dark, overcast sky, he wishes it'd break and clear up. He wishes for sunlight, so Noctis didn't have to sit in the cold and damp. Nothing in life is fair. ) A higher destiny, an invading force, a supernatural disease... Noctis, that's a lot to contend with.
That it has to fall to you simply because you were born now is... I don't know what it is. Well... no, I do, but...
I'm just so sorry. And you only found all this out recently?
[ Kaladin moves closer and for once there's no flinch or instinctive shrinking of self triggered by the approach. His body language stays open, anger fueling honesty and removing that self-consciousness if even for a moment. Talking about this is challenging. Talking about himself is worse. But at least for a moment he doesn't feel questioning. He's justified.
His friend settles and Noctis tilts his head, seemingly magnetized closer to him but stopping just short of leaning against him. His chest aches in frustration at his own restraint, wanting to embrace this man who's battled his own demons and past hurts to be here with him. ]
... thanks. [ It sounds hollow, but it's anything but. It's something else novel, unexpected. That simple "I'm sorry" is something he's never heard before. ]
Everything with my old man and Niflheim was a couple weeks back. The rest of it... I only thought about what Luna said after I read what they wrote about me here. [ The Starscourge may be a normal part of their lives, but purging it? How could anyone but the Oracle do that? ]
It's weird... but being here feels like the easy way out.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
When it does it's like he moves on autopilot, knees bending as he lowers himself to sit on the edge of the lacquered wood beams making up the flooring of that porch, legs dangling over the side to toe at gravel. His hand comes to rest at his side, gesturing to the place next to him as if to offer Kaladin a seat. ]
Guess that makes two of us.
... I should've told you a long time ago.
no subject
He eases down, and his boots plant firmly in loose stones. )
And I was selfish. I ignored your pain and prioritized mine. It's okay, Noctis.
It's okay, ( he says again, but softly. It'd sounded too matter-of-fact the first time. Practical. Unreachable. The way his father would say it. )
no subject
... thanks.
If you've got questions I'll answer them, obviously. Otherwise I can tell you what I know. In my words.
Not that that's worth a hell of a lot.
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Kaladin smiles back. )
It's worth a great deal to me.
( Silence is allowed to briefly settle between them. Arm to arm, they sit looking out together over the dormitory's sparse garden. Kaladin leans down to select a small rock that catches his eye, letting the rain expose its colour and pattern. )
I have questions, but I want to say something first if that's alright.
no subject
It doesn't appear forced, not like any attempts of his own to match it would. It's... a warmth and comfort he wants to thank him for after such an overwhelming fear that had gripped him in that fight, but his throat tightens around any attempt to tell him. ]
Yeah. ... yeah, sure. What's up?
no subject
( His thumb strokes dirt off the rock's surface, helping to clean it. Striations become clearer, beige and brown undulations in a parallel. The lines flow to the back of the rock where they meet and form around an inclusion of quartz.
It's pretty. So, he takes Noctis' cold hand from its resting place on the engawa and presses it into his palm. )
Bridge Four represents freedom. The freedom to live well while doing what you believe is right. To know with certainty that wherever you are, however difficult things become, you're not alone.
( Kaladin's fingers fold Noctis' closed, then cup the back of his hand. The rock is warm despite the rain. )
No royal duty can supersede that. And it'll always be yours.
no subject
What a simple thing. Yet his desire to examine that rock and its unique designs is surpassed only by his unwillingness to unfurl fingers and jeopardize Kaladin's hold on him.
He wants it. Everything Kaladin describes, that unity even in independence, that sense of choice even with a common purpose. Deep down, he knows it's what he's always wanted but never been able to put into words. ]
Kaladin, I'm... [ Words trail off as he looks down at their hands, briefly in awe of how quickly they'd gone from shouts and insults to this. It brings with it an overwhelming feeling of security. ]
I'll always do what I think is right. I'll fight the bastards who attacked my country, and I'll protect my people. [ Here he looks up again, finally. ] But freedom? My life's not mine. I've known that since I was born.
no subject
Blue eyes stare up at him, wide and vulnerable. Kaladin's eyelids grow heavy in their singular focus. )
I don't know what it means to rule, but I understand how hard it is to lead. Though, I'm no expert on balancing duty with being my own man. But in the narrow spaces between everyone's expectations, I must believe you have time to make your life yours.
Maybe... you can be a new ruler. One no one's ever known. ( He finally removes his hands. Not before a final squeeze, thumb trailing from a paler knuckle as it'd done with their rock. ) If I've learned anything in the past couple of years, it's that we're all making it up as we go along. Even kings. Even gods.
no subject
Ah... copying someone else won't work for me, that's for sure. I figured that out a long time ago too. [ He will never be Regis, stalwart and unflinching. He'll never be like Ignis, or Gladio. He'll never be like Kaladin either, able to see in all of them the traits he'd like to have while blind to so many of his own. ]
If I'm honest? [ He leans forward now, welcoming rain drops against his face again as he rests elbows against his thighs to abandon the shelter of the eaves. ]
I felt that for the first time when I got here. That I could do anything I wanted and that nobody was expecting anything else. That'd earn me a lecture if I said it back home... [ And there's finally a hint of a wry smile when he pictures it, not desperate for the restrictions to return but certainly missing those who imposed them. ]
But you just made that feeling for yourself back on Roshar without waiting for someone to give it to you. That's not bad, Kaladin.
no subject
Kaladin relaxes against one of the columns framing their section of the engawa, watching Noctis lean forward into the rain. The smile he wears is different than those he's seen on him previously. )
"Narrow spaces," ( he quotes himself, little more than a murmur. It's not intended to be heard and commented on; it's simply something he finds amusing. Time has been forced upon them here. He used to hate it, but Noctis has a point. They can do anything they want. ) If you're looking for the same lecture from me, you won't get it. You're not the kind of man who can easily forget who needs him. Neither am I.
I wasn't always like this, though. And I stillβ
( Lifting a leg up with them, Kaladin rests his arm on his knee. )
The thing is... I had to make that feeling. Even then, if I didn't have guidance, Noctis, I'd be... ( At the bottom of a chasm. Washed out to sea in the next Highstorm. ) I'd be elsewhere.
Bridge Four saved me. Adolin. Shallan. Syl. I'm hopeless alone.
no subject
Yeah? I figured that out by the second time you messaged me, you know. [ A gentle tease but a true one, this time not said to distract from the weight of Kaladin's admissions but to complement them. They've relied on each other a lot here in the absence of friends back home, haven't they?
That rock remains in his hand, held tightly still. ]
... the last thing my old man said to me was that I needed to walk tall. Hold my head up. And before that he told my friends to look out for me. Even called me "wayward" without them... and he was right. After he got killed I wanted to rush back into the city, and they kept me steady. [ Them, and Cor. His father's trusted comrade. ] Who knows. That might've saved my life.
[ For him, it's wordy. Being so honest about what's happened and so recently takes a toll, but he won't make the same mistake again of keeping Kaladin in the dark. ]
... it'd be cool to meet them. Your friends.
In the meantime I guess I'm your guidance and you're mine.
no subject
( The humour doesn't land, but it's distantly appreciated by Kaladin whose mental illness has only ever been treated by Adolin with levity. He and Noctis have similarities he's noticed before yet never admired till now. They're familiar, make light of dark subject matter, and are, therefore, comforting.
Balms for a raw soul. )
I wasn't subtle, it seems...
( Noctis talks about his father, and Kaladin listens without comment. Sometimes, to be next to someone is enough. Words aren't needed to communicate a point. They're here for each other when it counts, and that's precious to Kaladin, who considers himself now bound to Noctis.
Losing a family member feels impossible. You live as though you have all the time in the world to say what you need to. You're convinced that nothing so devastating as a father's or a brother's death could ever happen to youβhow could it? You love them, and the cosmere can't simply take that away.
Then it does.
His eyes soften on Noctis, though his expression remains drawn. ) "Walk tall"... He sounds like he was a man who was proud of his peopleβhis son most of all. Fathers speak in opposites, in my experience. Chastisements are encouragements. And in wanting what's best for us...
( They can occasionally miss the mark. )
... I think love is expressed through worry. Your family and friends, and mine, too... they're good. Truly good.
( He misses them. All of them. But a little less when he's with Noctis. )
What do you think our new duties entail? More nights like this? That... wouldn't be so bad, I think.
no subject
[ That's what had stuck out early, after all. From his first time meeting Kaladin during his surly assessment of New Year's activities to the first time he reached out to complain β rightfully β about their fellow Outsiders. He considers himself in rare company as someone Kaladin's been able to speak with freely. A member of Bridge Four. Someone who worries about him as much as he worries back.
So if that's what love is... ]
Ah, I can deal with worry and critiques, so your friends can do their worst. Wait until you meet mine. [ Who would give him the toughest time? It'd have to be Ignis, right? Why can he see him getting along with Gladio a little too well at first... ]
Anyway... maybe a few nights with more sparring and less talking. Feels like I've been running my mouth too much lately.
But I guess... before I stop, I can handle those questions now.
no subject
Because this is a marathon run of the mind they're close to completing, and Kaladin wants to lie down and hold something. )
Bridge Four... would love you. Adolin and Shallan, too. My mother, my little brother... All of them, Noctis. ( Thinking how much sobers him, dimly aware of a new, formless ache in his chest. It takes shape the longer they speak quietly on the engawa, where Noctis' outline glows from an outdoor light in the garden. )
Your data file... It mentioned you were to save Eos. What does it need saving from? The military you mentioned before?
no subject
Geeze... that's you, alright. Not pulling any punches.
[ The one about Eos lands, of course. But so does the pleasant ache of Kaladin's reassurances that his loved ones would embrace Noctis in return. Fingers slick back unruly bangs before wiping hurriedly at his face, disguising the action with a quick shrug. ]
There's no easy answer. Luna... she's the only one who said anything to me, when we were kids. She said I'd purge the star... cleanse it, something like that.
Niflheim needs to be forced out of my country, I know that. I'll do it myself, gladly. [ Fingers curl into a fist against wood slats as his temper flares, forcing himself to breathe through it. ]
But it's not just people Eos has to deal with. There's the Starscourge. Hard to explain... but it's like a disease. For a long time we've had Oracles who healed anyone who got infected, but recently it's like it's gotten even worse. People are even saying the nights are lasting longer, and maybe it's got something to do with it.
I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do against something like that.
no subject
This outwardly manifests in subtle expressions. Subtle disappointment, subtle worry, subtle need. The rest hides in his body language. Stiff shoulders, flexing fingers, hands on the hips, crossed arms. Long stares. Closed eyes.
After getting to know him slowly and over several long months, Kaladin has wisely updated his opinion. Because Noctis is unexaggeratedly one of the most passionate people he's ever met. His love for his kingdom is intrinsic, and his love for his friends surmounts that. Despite Noctis' deep unwillingness to fulfill his role as King, there's no doubt in Kaladin's mind he'll sacrifice an average life to do it. It shows in the tears mixing with rainwater on his face. In the tight cords in his forearms as he makes fists. He tries to wipe it away, to calm himself down, but it's clearer than Kaladin's affection for him: He's distraught. Angry. He's thoughtful. Sensitive.
Now, Kaladin's not sure how he could've ever expected so little of him. How anyone could've.
He extracts himself from his seat by the column, carrying himself in an unelegant half-crouch to Noctis' side. Then he deposits himself next to him, letting the rain soak through wet hair again. Being shoulder to shoulder feels better, like he's acting comforting somehow; selfishly, it's not for Noctis, but Kaladin hopes it settles his heart, too. )
I'm sorry, ( Kaladin whispers. He gathers his knees close, against his chest and beneath his chin, before pillowing his head there. Watching his friend under a dark, overcast sky, he wishes it'd break and clear up. He wishes for sunlight, so Noctis didn't have to sit in the cold and damp. Nothing in life is fair. ) A higher destiny, an invading force, a supernatural disease... Noctis, that's a lot to contend with.
That it has to fall to you simply because you were born now is... I don't know what it is. Well... no, I do, but...
I'm just so sorry. And you only found all this out recently?
no subject
His friend settles and Noctis tilts his head, seemingly magnetized closer to him but stopping just short of leaning against him. His chest aches in frustration at his own restraint, wanting to embrace this man who's battled his own demons and past hurts to be here with him. ]
... thanks. [ It sounds hollow, but it's anything but. It's something else novel, unexpected. That simple "I'm sorry" is something he's never heard before. ]
Everything with my old man and Niflheim was a couple weeks back. The rest of it... I only thought about what Luna said after I read what they wrote about me here. [ The Starscourge may be a normal part of their lives, but purging it? How could anyone but the Oracle do that? ]
It's weird... but being here feels like the easy way out.