[Metia seems to wink in and out of existence as a cloud drifts in front of it, but its red light returns soon enough, shining just as brightly. That she asks the question at all means she has considered he will say little, and she is not wrong for thinking so. His first instinct is to agree. There is no need to say them out loud; it will give them no further power.
But as he stands here under Valisthea's sky, worlds upon worlds away from it, with no way to return -- and no way to ensure he would still live even if he did -- he wants to offer... something of himself.
Something unexpected. This is a second chance at a life he did not earn. If he remained the same man, having learned nothing, would it not be a waste?
He inhales, holding it, then quietly exhales. The flowers shift in the breeze, moving like the sea's waves.]
I left someone behind. [The words are unguarded, and his voice goes soft. Hardly above a whisper, as even saying them makes his throat tighten.] Someone very important to me. Once I had decided to go to Origin. [He stops here now, not so much seeking the right words as deciding which ones he will not say. I knew I would not return, he thinks. I was allowed my goodbye. It is not for his sake, but for hers, that he is silent on these thoughts, for surely she thought the same of Clive and Joshua. That any of them should return after facing a god was nothing less than impossibility.
Dion swallows, and takes another slow inhale, then exhale.] It is selfish to want him here, and I do not wish to condemn him to an unfamiliar world. I wish... [He does wish to see him, but that is even not the highest wish. What is more important to him, even if he should never seen Terence again:] I wish that he yet lives, and he lives well, for the rest of his days.
[This swallow is the heaviest of all, and it is only mere illusion that Metia's light seems to reflect on the moisture in his eyes, quickly blinked away.]
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But as he stands here under Valisthea's sky, worlds upon worlds away from it, with no way to return -- and no way to ensure he would still live even if he did -- he wants to offer... something of himself.
Something unexpected. This is a second chance at a life he did not earn. If he remained the same man, having learned nothing, would it not be a waste?
He inhales, holding it, then quietly exhales. The flowers shift in the breeze, moving like the sea's waves.]
I left someone behind. [The words are unguarded, and his voice goes soft. Hardly above a whisper, as even saying them makes his throat tighten.] Someone very important to me. Once I had decided to go to Origin. [He stops here now, not so much seeking the right words as deciding which ones he will not say. I knew I would not return, he thinks. I was allowed my goodbye. It is not for his sake, but for hers, that he is silent on these thoughts, for surely she thought the same of Clive and Joshua. That any of them should return after facing a god was nothing less than impossibility.
Dion swallows, and takes another slow inhale, then exhale.] It is selfish to want him here, and I do not wish to condemn him to an unfamiliar world. I wish... [He does wish to see him, but that is even not the highest wish. What is more important to him, even if he should never seen Terence again:] I wish that he yet lives, and he lives well, for the rest of his days.
[This swallow is the heaviest of all, and it is only mere illusion that Metia's light seems to reflect on the moisture in his eyes, quickly blinked away.]