[His solemnity seems to crack at that moment, and he stares with eyes wide behind his mask as the shadow is filled with aether. He's familiar with the spell, of course. Very much so! Regrettably, he had... actually tried to do the same thing one or two (dozen) times before in attempt to find his own talents before declaring himself beyond hope.
...And truly, from the mess he'd made of the entire affair, (His shadow? It'd simply laid down.) he had to concede that phantomology was certainly not a burgeoning skill at his disposal.
But no- what he's impressed by stems from his sight. For Hades, by the looks of it, put an awful lot of aether within the shade. Enough, for most elders he knew, actually, to have been weakened. But the boy's own aether looks as hale and as strong as before.
...This boy, he realizes, has an affinity with the manipulation of aether. A skill worthy of note, most certainly. Yet he also has nigh limitless reserves. And that...
That's special indeed. He has to really focus to actually listen to Hades, as lost in his thoughts as he is. But he does listen.]
I'm in agreement. Yet there is one thing...
[He moves then, to examine the shade. Now, rather than a flat black outline of Hades, it more or less resembles him in every way- standing seperate from the wall and the ground. He tilts his head, lightly, before moving around it and securing a pot.
...Which is placed on its head. And sensing the furore to come: ]
It needs armour, after all. There's a larger one over there. Have it wear that.
[The compliment, assuming that's what it even is, is promptly ignored. He's heard the same, after all, and it means next to nothing to him. What good is impressiveness if he cannot even put it to good use?]
[But Hythlodaeus' observations are correct nonetheless, Hades appears none the worse for wear, which becomes all the more apparent the moment he opens his mouth.]
Now I'm all but certain you're doing this to annoy me. We've hardly the time for it!
[Hades points at the pot, giving another snap as a thin shroud of aether layers itself over the top of it, replacing the absurdity with the approximation of a helm. The other pot, begrudgingly retrieved, becomes a simple chest piece, some manner of plate armor that may at least take the brunt of a single well-aimed strike. Even if the thing is merely a shade, he'd certainly prefer not to have it looking utterly ridiculous!]
[...Although, a small part of him must admit that there is some logic in further equipping the shade to better make up for its unavoidable weaknesses.]
There. 'Tis armed and ready. Does that satisfy you?
Oh, I couldn't agree more. We have even less time to spare for complaints.
[A smile accents that little remark, and he turns his gaze to the shade... and also what Hades does have time for. Cosmetics, apparently. He can't help but give a small little laugh, his head tilting just so as it strikes him to ask why the other boy seemed to adore details so...
But there really is no time. The sight, in the corner of his eye, of the dead elder removes that question from his mind immediately. So. Upon one more indulgence- rolling the creaks out of his shoulders, stretching his neck... they have as good of a chance as they're going to get.
And wordlessly, he makes for the door. One, two, three, four, five, six long strides and he is stood before it, taking a long breath. It doesn't occur to ask Hades if he had changed his mind, or to remind him that should he wish to back out, he still could.
He knows that the dual presence behind him is unwavering. And that one of them is father from the other- the shade may very well be making its way to another entrance to this chamber, but a short way away from here. So.
He moves the doors open, just a crack. Behind his mask, his eyes widen.]
...!
[Hades, likely, can only see an empty room. Yet he should surely be able to feel the presence. It seeps in like an aetherial fog, after all. This is a powerful foe indeed.
And... He draws the bow- positioning the point of his held arrow between the small silver of open space, and taking aim. The sound of the bowstring tightening is palpable. And while his bow arm trembles, it is difficult to tell whether or not it is caused by nerves, or the strain holding the bow and arrow in readiness so puts upon it.
[Hades snorts in response, but says nothing more. And with a flick of his wrist, the shade disappears into the shadows, its presence fading just as smoothly as it begins its journey navigating the tunnel-like hallways until it has found another entrance into yonder chamber, one positioned on the opposite side of them.]
[Whilst the shade is on the move, Hades retrieves his rod and follows silently in Hythlodaeus' footsteps, pushing up his sleeves as he comes to a stop beside him. And indeed, he can feel... something. Whatever it is has the hairs standing up on his forearms, prickling at the base of his neck as a cold chill runs through his very being.]
[He's never felt anything like it before. It's strong, of that there is no room for doubt. And were he not faced with the grim consequences of its presence here...]
[No, he cannot afford to let himself get caught up in his own thoughts. He murmurs softly so as not to attract its attention. He cannot see it, but yes, it's unmistakably there.]
Not yet, but nearly so.
[Lifting the rod he waits, casting but a flicker of a glance towards his companion before preemptively reaching out into the space around himself to begin drawing together aether, remaining still and at the ready until he feels a small tug at the center of his being, like a thread pulled tight. Alerting him that the shade has reached its destination.]
Good. It has reached its destination. Now, let's get this over with.
With his breath, flies the arrow, accompanied by a thought. Please hit, is the thought, for if it did not- if his aim was off or if the creature moved at the very last second, the arrow would fly into the air behind it, land, and their position would be exposed for nothing.
A shriek- loud enough to shake the walls around them is his answer. It landed- squarely between the creature's eyes- and it is all that he can do to move within the room, to the side away the route Hades would take- and stand, shouting over to the other boy.]
That is its head!
[It is angered. That is apparent as it claws at its own face in order to remove the arrow, while lumbering toward the fledgling soulseer- yet Hythlodaeus is ready. Two more arrows are laced between his index, middle and ring fingers, and in quick succession, each of those two arrows are planted at each of the monster's upper arms to more shrieks.]
And each arm!
[It swings for him. He has to break his aim- moving backward with widened eyes. Where was that shade-]
[Hades lets the spell fly, aiming for the arrow which he can see, and the faint glow of residual aether - the trace of pastel green from Hythlodaeus' own hand upon it, and the sudden brief blossom of a darker red which must belong to the creature itself.]
[The arrow erupts into a blazing inferno, heat swelling as the creature lets out another ear-splitting roar of rage, and already Hades is releasing another spell, this time aiming for the arrow which arches backwards through the air at impressive speed -- descending directly towards Hythlodaeus.]
[A quick nudge of his focus, and the shade comes barreling out of another passage, pots and all rattling in a wild cacophony as it dashes right at the dance of arrows.]
[His shade just needs to take that one hit. Just one! Sweat beads along his brow as Hades begins casting yet another spell. He must disable the other arm before it has a chance to strike at the boy again. Ice crackles as the aether surrounding his rod rapidly cools and freezes the air around it.]
[Get down he does, even if, heavens, he has to force his legs to buckle and force his body to comply- because it is frozen in shock and in no small amount of horror at what is coming toward him. His breath catches in his throat as he moves forward into an actual roll in attempt to dodge the flaming, burning limb that would reduce his body to little more than a stain on the wall behind him- yet he knows he is not quick enough.
He knows that he could be twice as fast, and he would still be too slow. The creature's speed is otherworldly.
Yet his end does not come.
The limb comes down, yes. It scrapes along the ground toward him, but abruptly, the limb stops. He can see something- some faint purplish intermingled with shadow, both arms raised- holding the limb fast. Even if- oh, how terrible- the crudely fashioned armour is shattered around its feet, even its very form itself is shuddering and juttering- the indication of Hades' aether leaking from the shadowed replica telling of the fact it had sustained critical damage and would not last much longer.
He finds his feet. And in a run, he makes his way to a place a short distance away from Hades, close- yet not too close. And then, he witnesses the creature roar- bringing down both of its arms upon the shadowed replica, in a series of strikes from directly above- one after the other, after the other, after the other, after the other.
The fragments of pottery have been reduced to dust. And a few whisps of shadow float, slowly, to the ceiling before fading away entirely. The creature- now well and truly ignited by Hades' fire spell- turns. And it shrieks in its own agony before barrelling toward the pair of them.
If Hades' ice spell was not ready, he knows this will be it.]
[If there'd been any question as to the beast's true strength, it makes itself quickly known. Even though the shade has planted itself before Hythlodaeus, acting as a barrier to protect him, the force behind that limb is maddening, and when the aether begins to ebb away, Hades feels a dreadful wave of nausea gather in his gut. He winces, but his concentration holds fast - just enough to tighten the threads of his ice spell together.]
[Almost, almost...!]
[Hythlodaeus has put some distance between himself and the creature, and as the fire spreads and expands, so too does it begin to form an approximation of a shape. It is massive! And it is powerful. Each blow upon his shade feels like a leaden weight dropping upon his chest, and each scrape of claws - the keening sensation of a tear ripping through his own aether. Sweat soaks his brow, his other arm rises to join the first in gripping his rod as they tremble visibly - not from fear but from effort. His teeth grind together, and at last-- at last he has it...!]
[And just in time. The creature is upon them - a wall of fire, a thing of hatred and fury -- so potent he can feel it within the very depths of his being. It's a fury which will have to go unanswered.]
[He aims and lets the spell fly mere moments before he collapses to his knees, his vision threatening to blur from the pain and the overuse of aether. But one more, just one-- He has to be sure the thing is well and truly defeated!]
[He lifts his hand aloft, letting his soul reach out, his shadow dancing for a brief moment as the power of the Underworld pours forth into his being, trailing up his hand to quiver there at the tips of his fingers.]
['Take it' he thinks. (For it is yours. Accept this creature back into your flow, to be cleansed and reborn...)]
[A crisp snap rings out, and then all is darkness. Hades' vision turns to pitch and he knows no more.]
[Some time later, The first thing Hades felt might have been a gentle breeze.
It is a breeze that is fresh. It is a breeze that is gentle, and it is a breeze that is carrying, ever so faintly, the scent of artfully cultivated wisteria blossoms in spring. He is home- or close enough- and with it, comes sounds.
Faint sounds. Measured and controlled, in a cadence is rather pleasant. And as Hades' mind begins to gather more and more of itself, words should form.]
For even if the morrow is barren of promises, Nothing shall forestall my return. To become the dew that quenches the land; To spare the sands, the seas, the skies, I offer thee this silent sacrifice.
[When he opens his eyes, he should see that he is in a bed. A black-robed, white-masked figure is in a seat beside him, a book on his lap which he appears to be reading aloud from.
Should Hades' eyes be able to focus, he should see the soul of the figure, a pale pastel green, as well as a curl of lilac at his cheek.
The book is snapped shut. Hythlodaeus gets up. And the backs of his fingers glide down Hades' (clothed) arm, to the back of his hand.
And...]
You're awake. Thank goodness. I'll confess, I was starting to get quite worried!
[Hades' mind is still addled, even as his senses return to him one by one. He doesn't recall lying down, but it is warm and soft, and upon that light wind wafts the familiar scents of the city and a voice...less familiar, but utterly pleasant to listen to. The poem itself, he does not recognize, but the words are well-formed and well-spoken.]
[Blearily do his eyes peel open, and with a quiet (and unhappy) note of protest at having awoken at all does his head turn slowly from one side to the other before finally taking in the recent (but now known) color of Hythlodaeus' soul seated nearby.]
Where am I...?
[His limbs are leaden and heavy, and his entire form aches as if he has been trampled by some wild beast. Stubbornly he tries to pull himself up, because this is unseemly, even as his head starts swimming again with a dull and persistent ache.]
And why are you here? What happened?
[He winces and raises a hand to his brow, no doubt dislodging the fingertips which had rested there. Like this, several fine white hairs have gotten plastered to his forehead, but he feels too dreadful to care.]
At a facility within Amaurot, in the care of the Words of Emmerololth. You were moved here after we were found within Akademia Anyder to recover your aether reserves.
[Reserves that were quite dented! Yet not extinguished. Even though Hades' actions- of near transforming at such a young age- very well should have. The smile does not leave his lips. Even after the book within his hand is placed on a nearby countertop.]
I am here... [A faint pause.] Because I wish to be. My studies were regrettably cut short by my mentor doing something incredibly brave and foolish both, so I'm at quite the loss for anything to do nowadays.
[But ah! The smile, and the playfulness, leave him in short order when Hades attempts to pull himself upward. At first he tries to stop him, but then relents- holding him upright and gathering the pillows to support him as he lies upright.]
...You mustn't exert yourself. Not until you're well. And my friend- you are not well yet.
[His aether reserves? The Words of Emmeroloth? That hardly bodes well for whatever came to pass! And yet, as he tilts his head marginally to squint up at him... Hythlodaeus seems to have lost none of his indomitable spirit. In fact, he seems none the worse for wear for their little adventure. Then was it a success...?]
[Despite himself, Hades feels no small amount of relief. He remembers grasping for a tendril of the Underworld, trying to tug out enough magicks to well and truly vanquish the beast, but-- the rest is a blur. He must have, recklessly, overreached...]
[Still. And his brow wrinkles here even though he recognizes the amused lilt in the boy's voice for an attempt at levity.]
But surely you've much better places to be? You won't learn anything watching me sleep.
[Hgggh.]
[He hardly needs Hythlodaeus to tell him he isn't well, his head throbs as if it would very much like to split itself open, the pressure all but unbearable as he slumps a little in his (mostly) upright position, left to once again fight off another wave of sickness. 'Friend,' he thinks dimly. 'Since when?']
[Perhaps the one good thing in all of this is that Hades is too drained to even raise his voice or get angry.]
[The question comes a playful lilt of his voice, yet he knows. He cannot go elsewhere, for his punishment is to spend his time here. Punishment, indeed- yet it is not something he minds.]
That would be a shame. Especially since the attendants have no free time in order to read to you.
[Ah, and part of the punishment...]
Ah. Before I forget... I was instructed to ensure you drank this.
[He moves then, to procure a vial of something blue. It's medicinal, clearly- yet it gives off no smell. Nor any apparent taste. One might assume, of course, that the mixture is disgusting; yet that assuption would be wrong. Of course, Emmeroloth's Words are some of the very best alchemists there are. There is no flaw with the tincture.
It is passed to Hades as soon as he seems to have undizzied himself.]
You have quite a few things to take, actually. Yet with them, they feel you should be righted within the week.
[Hades doesn't know how to answer that, even though he detects that the question itself is a joke. He wouldn't have the other boy anywhere. Though... he doesn't mind him being where he is, either. Not truly.]
[But what reason could he have for staying? Is it merely because of what they experienced together? Or is he still expecting him to instruct him on the ways of magick? Oh, he hardly requires such teaching, not with eyes capable of seeing what even he cannot. Should he not then be assigned to someone who can better help him apply that gift?]
I don't recall ordering you to read to me. Leave the book there and I shall finish it myself. It's written by the former Altima, is it not? It's called "Loveless".
There is no hate, only joy For you are beloved by the goddess Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds
[It's been an age since he last read that one. He wouldn't dislike reading it again, if he could focus on the pages... And at this news, Hades frowns and eyes the vial with mild distaste before reaching out a tremoring and clammy hand to pluck it from Hythlodaeus' fingers. He studies it a moment, although it becomes clear that the frown isn't so much from unwillingness to cooperate as it is because Hades is attempting to identify the herbal extracts contained therein based on their combined color and viscosity.]
Did they say what this one is for?
[His gaze drifts gradually over to the bedside table where he finds a startling collection of flasks and bottles all aligned and neatly labeled. A week...seems like an awfully long time to be stuck in bed simply for fainting.]
It is. And personally, I find it in dire need of rework. A story centering around a hero, a wanderer and a prisoner is dreadfully rigid, after all.
[He does smile though- when Hades recites some lines.]
Ah. Act 2, is that not? The Hero. ...And the script dare not consider that one man's hero may yet be another's villain. I far prefer this one.
[He turns around then, taking another book from the neat pile. And then he takes a seat. The words should be unfamiliar. For this is a book fresh, new. Barely from the printing press- I Want To Be Your Canary.]
Shall I become no more than a puppet? A mindless puppet, never to laugh, never to cry? I wish to live my life under the sky. At times I shall laugh, yet inside I will die. For no life is more insincere than that lived as a masquerade.
[And in a deeper tone, to indicate the male part:]
Cast away thy trappings, and I shall swaddle thee in a gown of love! Never again will I part from thee. Pray, my love, make me thy canary to keep forever in the cage of thy bosom. Let us embark on the first ship tomorrow, before dawn can tell of our elopment.
[Lovely, of course. And a tale he well knows ends in tragedy. But ah. He is asked something. He ceases reading to cast his gaze at the vial.]
That one, as I recall, is for aether regeneration. Otherwise, you have concoctions ready for nausea, nightmares, double vision, lack of vision, weakness, lethargy, and headaches. As well as general discomfort.
[He pauses. And tellingly, he tilts his head.]
...Speaking of which, if you require the one for your dreams, I shall fetch it. You were saying quite strange things earlier. ...About preventing something from coming to pass again?
[A pause.]
I mean not to pry. ...Yet you were sweating. And shouting it, besides. Over and over.
He's going to recite this back to him when they elope for real I hope you realize.
You must be joking! The work is flawless. It has earned no less than twelve recommendations and is required reading at the akademia.
A rework he says...
[Hades looks no small amount insulted by this declaration. Hythlodaeus simply can't be serious! "Loveless" may very well be a modern classic. Does he not understand that the entire work is a metaphor? It's supposed to be (dare he even think the word) "rigid".]
[Still... Hades can't help but be curious as Hythlodaeus produces yet another tome (from an entire stack of them no less). This one is new - even without his Sight, he can tell by its pristine condition. He's not read it yet; never even heard of it until this moment, and his interest is plain in the way he sits up a bit straighter despite how his flesh would protest against movement.]
[It's well-crafted, of course. And overbearingly romantic. He's all but certain tragedy will strike them at sea, or that their elopement will take an unfortunate turn. One might think Hades would turn his nose up at such things, but he has to admit that Hythlodaeus has a pleasant voice for recitation - and he even puts in the effort to shift betwixt characters. So this is the sort of story he prefers? Not what he'd been expecting at all.]
I can see they're being quite thorough about it...
[Nodding finally, Hades unstoppers the vial and drinks the potion down without much undue fuss. Aether, after all, must needs be regenerated and his body could surely use the extra help. He won't be of any use without it, and won't be able to cast magicks besides. As for the others, the assortment is impressive to say the least, but he's certain that anything else will have him once again giving himself over to sleep, and that's the very last thing he wants...]
[--ah.]
[That news is enough to startle Hades out of his thoughts. And here he frowns, and a wariness seems to settle over him.]
...You needn't concern yourself about it. Our battle with that creature must have dredged up thoughts of the past, nothing more.
[Enough to be forced to rewatch that terrible moment yet again, and the height of his own stupidity. His creased brow deepens at that, his gaze cast down about his knees beneath the covers - still all a-tangle from whatever must have come to pass in the waking world.]
Indeed, required reading. Likely as it is utterly devoid of any factor that would make one go out and read it for themselves.
[Oh, he's playing now. His own tastes may be firmly toward material that can be interpreted in different fashions, can have multiple endings, and can be altered and altered as time goes on- but Loveless is hardly worthless. But perhaps his words are carefully chosen, in order to elicit as much (quiet and weakened) outrage as possible. .... For perhaps he has already perceived the other's fits of temper to be quite entertaining.
But.]
Of course. From what I've learned while being here, the Words of Emmerololth bestow the same attention upon all who are directed to regain themselves here. You're hardly special in that regard.
[And as Hades drinks...]
But you are special. For even the Convocation are now aware of you. Azem herself has requested to speak with you, as soon as you are released.
[Fame. Don't choke on that, Hades. His elbow meets his knee, and he plays his hand, resting his cheek on it as he regards him. And oh, Hades. He sees that you're not lying. Yet he also sees it's far more than described.
Yet, for now, he's not about to force it. So. A small smile follows.]
Understood. Unless you mean by not needing anything else, that you would like me to stop coming here. [A small laugh.I'd like to stay and see if I may be admitted unto this facility via the virtue of my bedside manner.
[Which... isn't quite the truth. Yet it is better for everyone involved (and far less awkward) to say that, than telling the truth. That being here is him being punished for Hades' actions- and Hades himself is viewed as a hero of sorts.]
Don't be absurd! If such were the case, our scholars would have selected an entirely different work to teach literary form, structure, and story-telling techniques at the akademia. And besides, it is the strongest out of all of Altima's works.
[He would know, as he has read the entire collection - not out of any requirement, but simply because he had an interest in doing so. Loveless is their masterwork, and for clear reason in his mind. Hades scowls behind his mask, but he is hardly in any state to keep up a long-winded debate about classical literature. And soon enough, his mind shifts to a topic even more boggling. The Convocation? And Azem herself...? He can scarce believe what he's hearing. Why should they be aware of him or wish to speak with him? It makes no sense. In fact, he tilts his head sideways in a clear expression of doubt and skepticism.]
Say what you will of Loveless, but you should never joke of such things. You do realize that, do you not? I already know that I will be punished for disobeying the elders regardless of whether we defeated that beast or not. Which I can only presume that we did, since you are here.
...Though I may be more adept at magicks than most of my peers, it is a curse as much as a blessing. It does not make me special.
[He still does not understand why Hythlodaeus insists on staying or coming, nor why he seems so content to remain as he is. The pile of books is considerable. How long has he been here for already> He cannot mean to stay with him the entire time. Hades looks away, arms folding around himself.]
As for your bedside manner, you won't be getting any commendation from me.
[Ah, that response. Just as entertaining as expected.]
The strongest, yet a notably incomplete work. They say that the last acts are hidden and wait in some far-flung corner of the world to be uncovered, yet... perhaps the Altima of that time simply decided to cut their losses and spend their time writing something more interesting.
[A small laugh escapes him, yet it's wholly different from the ones he had given Hades thusfar. For there is a small amount of fondness in it. It was that very fondness, after all, which had him come up with something quite untrue- that he had been the one to rush headlong into danger, and dutiful, stern Hades had only followed to see he did not come to harm.
Something corroborated by his aether having destroyed the seal on the facilities' door. And corroborated by the fleeing elders, of whom had glanced the pair of them.]
I'll have you know- [In a playful tone, of course;] that the mere thought of my joking in regard to something like that is most hurtful. [A faint smile.] You'll have to make it right by attending your summons in perfect health and not doing anything silly, like leaving early. Otherwise I- and the Words, shall no doubt be looked upon as incompetents. And you would not do that to us, would you?
[A curse though. That alludes, faintly, to the dreams he was having...
His facial expression smoothes from his smile, into his lips forming a neutral line. And...]
Would you tell me of it? How something like your talent could be considered detrimental.
[Tiresome. This boy is so completely and utterly tiresome to have to deal with...! And what's worse, he's now trying to goad him into obedience by appealing to his better traits: empathy, a sense of duty... as if he has anything to feel guilty about! He certainly never asked for such an impish bedside attendant! And at this next juncture, Hades sighs loudly, impatiently, his brow furrowed and severe beneath his mask.]
Mayhap if half of the words that leave your mouth weren't pure rubbish and ridicule, I'd be inclined to give them their due consideration. Besides, even if I was to be summoned, it would have no bearing on you or the Words. They are two completely separate matters.
[Yet Hades, too, has questions, and he spares another glance at him over his shoulder. Unfortunately, winning Hades over will prove more difficult than simply reading to him.]
If it will be enough to convince you that whatever your reason for being here is severely misguided: not three moons ago I developed a spell called Dark Eruption. A classmate begged me share the papers I'd drafted for its submission, and so I did. Little did I know he would attempt to use the spell without full knowledge of its application. He lost control, and amidst the chaos and the screams, three other students were taken away to be treated. ...it targets not one, but five enemies, you see.
And this is only one such tale. In the hands of others, my work brings ruin. What good are they to the star if but a single person is capable of using them? And that is why I seek the means to continue my studies alone.
[A pause, just long enough to shake out the blankets and straighten them back down, perhaps to avoid whatever expression may have formed on his companion's face.]
...You, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter. Why do you pretend to be so utterly hopeless in all respects when your soulsight is extraordinary? You may not be gifted in aetherial manipulation, but you were able to detect what both the elders and I could not.
[Something has changed within him, he knows. For that sigh, but a few days ago- would have him put off. Would have his own brow furrow, and would have him (internally) question whether Hades really was around his age... or a few centuries younger. Young enough to be prone to tantrums, and just exceptionally tall for his age.
Yet now, he finds himself smiling. ...For it really is quite funny. And he might even be stifling a small laugh.]
It matters. For should you meet Azem still battered, still bruised, and still weakly clawing back your aether reserves, both I and the Words would be held to account for it.
[But ah. He listens to Hades recount that... well, rather sorry state of affairs, and he finds his mouth drawing into a perfect line. And then a slight grimace. He's heard of this, he's sure. It really was such a long time ago, but... the injuries were lifechanging, he's certain.
Yet. One detail is new. That the concept was detailed to be multi-target. That his classmate had overlooked that part. Such would be anyone's defence at something so terrible happening. Insist that something had been overlooked, that it was the fault of the person that used it, and-
-but as he looks at Hades, he sees no sign of the lie. No indication that anything untruthful or exaggerated had been uttered. So...]
It strikes me that perhaps you were foolish to give someone something before it had been approved. [Somewhat arrogant, as well. If something were wrong with the spell, the very same thing could have happened even if it had been read correctly.] It is not your work that brings ruin. More your judgment... in that instance.
[Probably not what he wanted to hear, but it's astute. And as Hades asks his own question, he stands, fetching himself some water.]
I can assure you, I'm hardly pretending. Perhaps I exaggerate, but to be entirely honest with you, I've no skill at aether manipulation. I may use my own aether-
[He pours from a large jug, deciding to pour Hades a glass as well. No doubt, he needs it after being unconscious for so long.]
- in creation magick with no error. Yet taking aether from the world around me, forging it, shaping it, aspecting it to something else... [A brief shake of his head.] It's quite beyond me. My own aether tends to get in the way.
[He doesn't understand why Hythlodaeus is smiling, much less laughing. The thought of it, after all he has said, is enough to boggle the mind.]
Simply tell her that I refused rest and wouldn't follow your instruction. It wouldn't be a lie.
[Although, all told, Hades does at least intend to cooperate. He wants to get better. He does not wish to cause further issue for anyone else.]
Think you I haven't relived that day countless times already? Of course I should never have handed it over! But he was so persistent and we are taught to always bolster one another to shared success. I thought that viewing the written foundation of a successful spell would help him better improve his own, which he'd been struggling with for a time. I might have known that testing mine would prove too much of a temptation...
[Hades slowly leans forward to rest his elbows on his bent knees, his cowl hiding even most of his masked face as if he might vanish into shadow.]
I don't blame him for his curiosity.
[Nor does he offer any further argument about whether or not the work should have been approved beforehand. He had, in fact, planned to submit it the very next day for approval. He'd even gone to his teacher to have his calculations reviewed, just in case he'd overlooked any small detail in its formula. His classmate (and at the time, someone he considered a friend) had caught him just after.]
[His head is throbbing again, and Hades closes his eyes wearily.]
Yes, yes, I realize all of that already... I'm not here to harp on your shortcomings. I'm asking why you choose instead to hide your talents.
[Just as Hades has told him that he cares not for further detailing of his (magically) useless nature, it is natural to him to dismiss what is said regarding the circumstance behind the spell being shared.
Yet even then, he falls to a silence, and he listens. For something about what Hades says then- about it being shared in the hope of improving the other- strikes him as odd. Hm.]
In all of the tellings of the tale, I had not heard it that way before. Most believe that it is a story of two vainglorious mages. The first, having created such a magick, saw no reason to go through the proper channels. He merely passed it to an equally arrogant friend, in the hopes of inspiring awe with his work.
[Indeed, the fact that the aforementioned friend had not been instructed to use it was absolutely not part of the tale he'd heard. ...Hades' own doing, he suspects. It's only an inkling of a suspicion thus far, but he does seem entirely far too modest for the story in common knowledge to be in any ways true.
But. He does not press. For seeing the other boy sink like that- He must be tired. It simply wouldn't do to accost him with questions about something that obviously affects him while he is supposed to be recovering. So. He takes a seat again, his hand slipping into his own hood to move some of his hair behind his ear.]
Talents?
[A small laugh escapes him, for he is, most certainly, surprised.]
Are you sure you're feeling quite well? I have a middling interest in archery. I should hardly call that anything of note.
[A quiet murmur. Perhaps it has been fashioned thus for a purpose, a lesson for others to be wary of their decisions, to be humble, to follow the proper steps and not think themselves better than their fellows. It is such a distortion of what truly happened, and yet... if it would protect his fellows, if it would stop another young mage from making the same mistake, who is he to set the record to rights? That day, when the elders had taken him in for questioning, he had shared with them the whole truth, unflinchingly. ...the whole truth, that is-- save, for it being his friend's own choice to set off the spell. A blight upon his own record, a punishment for Hades alone to bear with no one else the wiser. His friend had avoided him after that. They'd never spoken again.]
[He sighs, this a softer sound that is not exaggerated in the slightest. His mouth twitches, and yet he doesn't offer complaint or protest.]
...then perhaps you should put what I've said out of your mind. I must have spoken in error.
[Hades is really quite thirsty, and hungry - even as his stomach would still attempt to roil within him. He casts a sideways glance at the second poured glass. If Hythlodaeus has no plans to drink of them both, then...]
[Yet he does not ask.]
We both know I'm feeling dreadful, thank you very much.
But I'm being serious. You were able to see that beast from the start, were you not? Once we gathered outside that final chamber, I was finally able to sense its presence, but I never once saw it physically appear. If not for your arrows, and the very fact that it caught fire soon after, I would not have known where to take aim.
...I also fail to understand how the creature was defeated. Did the elders show up to save us immediately after I lost consciousness?
Error? No, that is not your way. I hardly know you, of course- yet I'm most certain of that.
[He highly doubts any of it was distorted out of maliciousness. For there would be no point in curbing such a talented young mages' spirit. Perhaps it is more a matter of slight misrememberances in play as the story got repeated? Or an individual's opinion becoming fact in the next retelling and...
Yes, the water. He'd quite forgotten, and surely, were he to be telling the truth about being interested in dedicating his purpose to Emmerololth's Words, he would likely be quite terrible at that, as well. His arm reaches forward to tap Hades on the shoulder before he hands his glass over, hovering close by to take it when he is finished.
And... His expression turns somewhat distant, his smile that much more wan.]
Yes, I was. I could see it as soon as we spoke to the elders within the city, actually. [Yes, even from that distance away. In a city full of souls, he could detect, he could pinpoint, and he could read it as bad news. Hence, his reservations about actually going in.] It's hardly talent, for talent is something that can be used. More some form of joke. I may be able to see things, yet I lack the strength to do anything about them.
[A light shrug of his shoulders follows, and he takes his seat once more.]
As for your other question... something rather strange did happen. A great tear in reality occurred. Energies poured into you, and darkness covered you. And-
[A great arm suddenly burst from his back. Bigger, even, than the creature. And he closed the arm's fist around it, and squeezed, and squeezed, and... Oh. It was hardly a pretty thing to observe. Even if he had craved retribution for what had happened to the elder within the akademia- watching it explode within that hand's grasp had almost made him very violently ill.]
...And you defeated it. In a single blow, might I add! Then...
[He had locked eyes with this... thing Hades had become. And he had saw him. Really saw him for who he was, as he stared at the clump of shadow that seemed so very different from the great and terrible figures their kind made when transformed. He was utterly unadorned. When the arm had retracted within his back, he was bare- just a mound of shadow about Hythlodaeus' own height, so very dark he did not even reflect light. The only thing of note, really, was his eyes. Four total, staring at him, just as much as he stared at it.
...He'd seemed to cut quite a lonely figure, actually. Seemed fragile, almost. And then, he had fallen to the ground. And Hythlodaeus had stayed with him until help had come.]
...I'm rather pleased you do not remember. Most likely, you'd have been quite ashamed of me for all of the shouting I did until we were found.
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[His solemnity seems to crack at that moment, and he stares with eyes wide behind his mask as the shadow is filled with aether. He's familiar with the spell, of course. Very much so! Regrettably, he had... actually tried to do the same thing one or two (dozen) times before in attempt to find his own talents before declaring himself beyond hope.
...And truly, from the mess he'd made of the entire affair, (His shadow? It'd simply laid down.) he had to concede that phantomology was certainly not a burgeoning skill at his disposal.
But no- what he's impressed by stems from his sight. For Hades, by the looks of it, put an awful lot of aether within the shade. Enough, for most elders he knew, actually, to have been weakened. But the boy's own aether looks as hale and as strong as before.
...This boy, he realizes, has an affinity with the manipulation of aether. A skill worthy of note, most certainly. Yet he also has nigh limitless reserves. And that...
That's special indeed.
He has to really focus to actually listen to Hades, as lost in his thoughts as he is. But he does listen.]
I'm in agreement. Yet there is one thing...
[He moves then, to examine the shade. Now, rather than a flat black outline of Hades, it more or less resembles him in every way- standing seperate from the wall and the ground. He tilts his head, lightly, before moving around it and securing a pot.
...Which is placed on its head.
And sensing the furore to come: ]
It needs armour, after all. There's a larger one over there. Have it wear that.
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[But Hythlodaeus' observations are correct nonetheless, Hades appears none the worse for wear, which becomes all the more apparent the moment he opens his mouth.]
Now I'm all but certain you're doing this to annoy me. We've hardly the time for it!
[Hades points at the pot, giving another snap as a thin shroud of aether layers itself over the top of it, replacing the absurdity with the approximation of a helm. The other pot, begrudgingly retrieved, becomes a simple chest piece, some manner of plate armor that may at least take the brunt of a single well-aimed strike. Even if the thing is merely a shade, he'd certainly prefer not to have it looking utterly ridiculous!]
[...Although, a small part of him must admit that there is some logic in further equipping the shade to better make up for its unavoidable weaknesses.]
There. 'Tis armed and ready. Does that satisfy you?
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[A smile accents that little remark, and he turns his gaze to the shade... and also what Hades does have time for. Cosmetics, apparently. He can't help but give a small little laugh, his head tilting just so as it strikes him to ask why the other boy seemed to adore details so...
But there really is no time. The sight, in the corner of his eye, of the dead elder removes that question from his mind immediately. So. Upon one more indulgence- rolling the creaks out of his shoulders, stretching his neck... they have as good of a chance as they're going to get.
And wordlessly, he makes for the door. One, two, three, four, five, six long strides and he is stood before it, taking a long breath. It doesn't occur to ask Hades if he had changed his mind, or to remind him that should he wish to back out, he still could.
He knows that the dual presence behind him is unwavering. And that one of them is father from the other- the shade may very well be making its way to another entrance to this chamber, but a short way away from here. So.
He moves the doors open, just a crack.
Behind his mask, his eyes widen.]
...!
[Hades, likely, can only see an empty room. Yet he should surely be able to feel the presence. It seeps in like an aetherial fog, after all. This is a powerful foe indeed.
And...
He draws the bow- positioning the point of his held arrow between the small silver of open space, and taking aim. The sound of the bowstring tightening is palpable. And while his bow arm trembles, it is difficult to tell whether or not it is caused by nerves, or the strain holding the bow and arrow in readiness so puts upon it.
In a low whisper...]
Let me know when your shade is in position.
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[Hades snorts in response, but says nothing more. And with a flick of his wrist, the shade disappears into the shadows, its presence fading just as smoothly as it begins its journey navigating the tunnel-like hallways until it has found another entrance into yonder chamber, one positioned on the opposite side of them.]
[Whilst the shade is on the move, Hades retrieves his rod and follows silently in Hythlodaeus' footsteps, pushing up his sleeves as he comes to a stop beside him. And indeed, he can feel... something. Whatever it is has the hairs standing up on his forearms, prickling at the base of his neck as a cold chill runs through his very being.]
[He's never felt anything like it before. It's strong, of that there is no room for doubt. And were he not faced with the grim consequences of its presence here...]
[No, he cannot afford to let himself get caught up in his own thoughts. He murmurs softly so as not to attract its attention. He cannot see it, but yes, it's unmistakably there.]
Not yet, but nearly so.
[Lifting the rod he waits, casting but a flicker of a glance towards his companion before preemptively reaching out into the space around himself to begin drawing together aether, remaining still and at the ready until he feels a small tug at the center of his being, like a thread pulled tight. Alerting him that the shade has reached its destination.]
Good. It has reached its destination. Now, let's get this over with.
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With his breath, flies the arrow, accompanied by a thought. Please hit, is the thought, for if it did not- if his aim was off or if the creature moved at the very last second, the arrow would fly into the air behind it, land, and their position would be exposed for nothing.
A shriek- loud enough to shake the walls around them is his answer. It landed- squarely between the creature's eyes- and it is all that he can do to move within the room, to the side away the route Hades would take- and stand, shouting over to the other boy.]
That is its head!
[It is angered. That is apparent as it claws at its own face in order to remove the arrow, while lumbering toward the fledgling soulseer- yet Hythlodaeus is ready. Two more arrows are laced between his index, middle and ring fingers, and in quick succession, each of those two arrows are planted at each of the monster's upper arms to more shrieks.]
And each arm!
[It swings for him. He has to break his aim- moving backward with widened eyes.
Where was that shade-]
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[Hades lets the spell fly, aiming for the arrow which he can see, and the faint glow of residual aether - the trace of pastel green from Hythlodaeus' own hand upon it, and the sudden brief blossom of a darker red which must belong to the creature itself.]
[The arrow erupts into a blazing inferno, heat swelling as the creature lets out another ear-splitting roar of rage, and already Hades is releasing another spell, this time aiming for the arrow which arches backwards through the air at impressive speed -- descending directly towards Hythlodaeus.]
[A quick nudge of his focus, and the shade comes barreling out of another passage, pots and all rattling in a wild cacophony as it dashes right at the dance of arrows.]
[His shade just needs to take that one hit. Just one! Sweat beads along his brow as Hades begins casting yet another spell. He must disable the other arm before it has a chance to strike at the boy again. Ice crackles as the aether surrounding his rod rapidly cools and freezes the air around it.]
Get down!
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He knows that he could be twice as fast, and he would still be too slow. The creature's speed is otherworldly.
Yet his end does not come.
The limb comes down, yes. It scrapes along the ground toward him, but abruptly, the limb stops. He can see something- some faint purplish intermingled with shadow, both arms raised- holding the limb fast. Even if- oh, how terrible- the crudely fashioned armour is shattered around its feet, even its very form itself is shuddering and juttering- the indication of Hades' aether leaking from the shadowed replica telling of the fact it had sustained critical damage and would not last much longer.
He finds his feet. And in a run, he makes his way to a place a short distance away from Hades, close- yet not too close. And then, he witnesses the creature roar- bringing down both of its arms upon the shadowed replica, in a series of strikes from directly above- one after the other, after the other, after the other, after the other.
The fragments of pottery have been reduced to dust. And a few whisps of shadow float, slowly, to the ceiling before fading away entirely. The creature- now well and truly ignited by Hades' fire spell- turns. And it shrieks in its own agony before barrelling toward the pair of them.
If Hades' ice spell was not ready, he knows this will be it.]
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[Almost, almost...!]
[Hythlodaeus has put some distance between himself and the creature, and as the fire spreads and expands, so too does it begin to form an approximation of a shape. It is massive! And it is powerful. Each blow upon his shade feels like a leaden weight dropping upon his chest, and each scrape of claws - the keening sensation of a tear ripping through his own aether. Sweat soaks his brow, his other arm rises to join the first in gripping his rod as they tremble visibly - not from fear but from effort. His teeth grind together, and at last-- at last he has it...!]
[And just in time. The creature is upon them - a wall of fire, a thing of hatred and fury -- so potent he can feel it within the very depths of his being. It's a fury which will have to go unanswered.]
[He aims and lets the spell fly mere moments before he collapses to his knees, his vision threatening to blur from the pain and the overuse of aether. But one more, just one-- He has to be sure the thing is well and truly defeated!]
[He lifts his hand aloft, letting his soul reach out, his shadow dancing for a brief moment as the power of the Underworld pours forth into his being, trailing up his hand to quiver there at the tips of his fingers.]
['Take it' he thinks. (For it is yours. Accept this creature back into your flow, to be cleansed and reborn...)]
[A crisp snap rings out, and then all is darkness. Hades' vision turns to pitch and he knows no more.]
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It is a breeze that is fresh. It is a breeze that is gentle, and it is a breeze that is carrying, ever so faintly, the scent of artfully cultivated wisteria blossoms in spring. He is home- or close enough- and with it, comes sounds.
Faint sounds. Measured and controlled, in a cadence is rather pleasant. And as Hades' mind begins to gather more and more of itself, words should form.]
For even if the morrow is barren of promises,
Nothing shall forestall my return.
To become the dew that quenches the land;
To spare the sands, the seas, the skies,
I offer thee this silent sacrifice.
[When he opens his eyes, he should see that he is in a bed. A black-robed, white-masked figure is in a seat beside him, a book on his lap which he appears to be reading aloud from.
Should Hades' eyes be able to focus, he should see the soul of the figure, a pale pastel green, as well as a curl of lilac at his cheek.
The book is snapped shut. Hythlodaeus gets up. And the backs of his fingers glide down Hades' (clothed) arm, to the back of his hand.
And...]
You're awake. Thank goodness. I'll confess, I was starting to get quite worried!
[A gentle smile follows.]
...Welcome back, Hades.
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[Blearily do his eyes peel open, and with a quiet (and unhappy) note of protest at having awoken at all does his head turn slowly from one side to the other before finally taking in the recent (but now known) color of Hythlodaeus' soul seated nearby.]
Where am I...?
[His limbs are leaden and heavy, and his entire form aches as if he has been trampled by some wild beast. Stubbornly he tries to pull himself up, because this is unseemly, even as his head starts swimming again with a dull and persistent ache.]
And why are you here? What happened?
[He winces and raises a hand to his brow, no doubt dislodging the fingertips which had rested there. Like this, several fine white hairs have gotten plastered to his forehead, but he feels too dreadful to care.]
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[Reserves that were quite dented! Yet not extinguished. Even though Hades' actions- of near transforming at such a young age- very well should have. The smile does not leave his lips. Even after the book within his hand is placed on a nearby countertop.]
I am here... [A faint pause.] Because I wish to be. My studies were regrettably cut short by my mentor doing something incredibly brave and foolish both, so I'm at quite the loss for anything to do nowadays.
[But ah! The smile, and the playfulness, leave him in short order when Hades attempts to pull himself upward. At first he tries to stop him, but then relents- holding him upright and gathering the pillows to support him as he lies upright.]
...You mustn't exert yourself. Not until you're well. And my friend- you are not well yet.
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[His aether reserves? The Words of Emmeroloth? That hardly bodes well for whatever came to pass! And yet, as he tilts his head marginally to squint up at him... Hythlodaeus seems to have lost none of his indomitable spirit. In fact, he seems none the worse for wear for their little adventure. Then was it a success...?]
[Despite himself, Hades feels no small amount of relief. He remembers grasping for a tendril of the Underworld, trying to tug out enough magicks to well and truly vanquish the beast, but-- the rest is a blur. He must have, recklessly, overreached...]
[Still. And his brow wrinkles here even though he recognizes the amused lilt in the boy's voice for an attempt at levity.]
But surely you've much better places to be? You won't learn anything watching me sleep.
[Hgggh.]
[He hardly needs Hythlodaeus to tell him he isn't well, his head throbs as if it would very much like to split itself open, the pressure all but unbearable as he slumps a little in his (mostly) upright position, left to once again fight off another wave of sickness. 'Friend,' he thinks dimly. 'Since when?']
[Perhaps the one good thing in all of this is that Hades is too drained to even raise his voice or get angry.]
...So I noticed.
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[The question comes a playful lilt of his voice, yet he knows. He cannot go elsewhere, for his punishment is to spend his time here. Punishment, indeed- yet it is not something he minds.]
That would be a shame. Especially since the attendants have no free time in order to read to you.
[Ah, and part of the punishment...]
Ah. Before I forget... I was instructed to ensure you drank this.
[He moves then, to procure a vial of something blue. It's medicinal, clearly- yet it gives off no smell. Nor any apparent taste. One might assume, of course, that the mixture is disgusting; yet that assuption would be wrong. Of course, Emmeroloth's Words are some of the very best alchemists there are. There is no flaw with the tincture.
It is passed to Hades as soon as he seems to have undizzied himself.]
You have quite a few things to take, actually. Yet with them, they feel you should be righted within the week.
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[But what reason could he have for staying? Is it merely because of what they experienced together? Or is he still expecting him to instruct him on the ways of magick? Oh, he hardly requires such teaching, not with eyes capable of seeing what even he cannot. Should he not then be assigned to someone who can better help him apply that gift?]
I don't recall ordering you to read to me. Leave the book there and I shall finish it myself. It's written by the former Altima, is it not? It's called "Loveless".
There is no hate, only joy
For you are beloved by the goddess
Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds
[It's been an age since he last read that one. He wouldn't dislike reading it again, if he could focus on the pages... And at this news, Hades frowns and eyes the vial with mild distaste before reaching out a tremoring and clammy hand to pluck it from Hythlodaeus' fingers. He studies it a moment, although it becomes clear that the frown isn't so much from unwillingness to cooperate as it is because Hades is attempting to identify the herbal extracts contained therein based on their combined color and viscosity.]
Did they say what this one is for?
[His gaze drifts gradually over to the bedside table where he finds a startling collection of flasks and bottles all aligned and neatly labeled. A week...seems like an awfully long time to be stuck in bed simply for fainting.]
Or any of those? Surely you're exaggerating...
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[He does smile though- when Hades recites some lines.]
Ah. Act 2, is that not? The Hero. ...And the script dare not consider that one man's hero may yet be another's villain. I far prefer this one.
[He turns around then, taking another book from the neat pile. And then he takes a seat. The words should be unfamiliar. For this is a book fresh, new. Barely from the printing press- I Want To Be Your Canary.]
Shall I become no more than a puppet? A mindless puppet, never to laugh, never to cry? I wish to live my life under the sky. At times I shall laugh, yet inside I will die. For no life is more insincere than that lived as a masquerade.
[And in a deeper tone, to indicate the male part:]
Cast away thy trappings, and I shall swaddle thee in a gown of love! Never again will I part from thee. Pray, my love, make me thy canary to keep forever in the cage of thy bosom. Let us embark on the first ship tomorrow, before dawn can tell of our elopment.
[Lovely, of course. And a tale he well knows ends in tragedy. But ah. He is asked something. He ceases reading to cast his gaze at the vial.]
That one, as I recall, is for aether regeneration. Otherwise, you have concoctions ready for nausea, nightmares, double vision, lack of vision, weakness, lethargy, and headaches. As well as general discomfort.
[He pauses. And tellingly, he tilts his head.]
...Speaking of which, if you require the one for your dreams, I shall fetch it. You were saying quite strange things earlier. ...About preventing something from coming to pass again?
[A pause.]
I mean not to pry. ...Yet you were sweating. And shouting it, besides. Over and over.
He's going to recite this back to him when they elope for real I hope you realize.
A rework he says...
[Hades looks no small amount insulted by this declaration. Hythlodaeus simply can't be serious! "Loveless" may very well be a modern classic. Does he not understand that the entire work is a metaphor? It's supposed to be (dare he even think the word) "rigid".]
[Still... Hades can't help but be curious as Hythlodaeus produces yet another tome (from an entire stack of them no less). This one is new - even without his Sight, he can tell by its pristine condition. He's not read it yet; never even heard of it until this moment, and his interest is plain in the way he sits up a bit straighter despite how his flesh would protest against movement.]
[It's well-crafted, of course. And overbearingly romantic. He's all but certain tragedy will strike them at sea, or that their elopement will take an unfortunate turn. One might think Hades would turn his nose up at such things, but he has to admit that Hythlodaeus has a pleasant voice for recitation - and he even puts in the effort to shift betwixt characters. So this is the sort of story he prefers? Not what he'd been expecting at all.]
I can see they're being quite thorough about it...
[Nodding finally, Hades unstoppers the vial and drinks the potion down without much undue fuss. Aether, after all, must needs be regenerated and his body could surely use the extra help. He won't be of any use without it, and won't be able to cast magicks besides. As for the others, the assortment is impressive to say the least, but he's certain that anything else will have him once again giving himself over to sleep, and that's the very last thing he wants...]
[--ah.]
[That news is enough to startle Hades out of his thoughts. And here he frowns, and a wariness seems to settle over him.]
...You needn't concern yourself about it. Our battle with that creature must have dredged up thoughts of the past, nothing more.
[Enough to be forced to rewatch that terrible moment yet again, and the height of his own stupidity. His creased brow deepens at that, his gaze cast down about his knees beneath the covers - still all a-tangle from whatever must have come to pass in the waking world.]
I don't require anything else.
eloping yes yes yes
[Oh, he's playing now. His own tastes may be firmly toward material that can be interpreted in different fashions, can have multiple endings, and can be altered and altered as time goes on- but Loveless is hardly worthless. But perhaps his words are carefully chosen, in order to elicit as much (quiet and weakened) outrage as possible. .... For perhaps he has already perceived the other's fits of temper to be quite entertaining.
But.]
Of course. From what I've learned while being here, the Words of Emmerololth bestow the same attention upon all who are directed to regain themselves here. You're hardly special in that regard.
[And as Hades drinks...]
But you are special. For even the Convocation are now aware of you. Azem herself has requested to speak with you, as soon as you are released.
[Fame. Don't choke on that, Hades. His elbow meets his knee, and he plays his hand, resting his cheek on it as he regards him. And oh, Hades. He sees that you're not lying. Yet he also sees it's far more than described.
Yet, for now, he's not about to force it. So. A small smile follows.]
Understood. Unless you mean by not needing anything else, that you would like me to stop coming here. [A small laugh.I'd like to stay and see if I may be admitted unto this facility via the virtue of my bedside manner.
[Which... isn't quite the truth. Yet it is better for everyone involved (and far less awkward) to say that, than telling the truth. That being here is him being punished for Hades' actions- and Hades himself is viewed as a hero of sorts.]
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[He would know, as he has read the entire collection - not out of any requirement, but simply because he had an interest in doing so. Loveless is their masterwork, and for clear reason in his mind. Hades scowls behind his mask, but he is hardly in any state to keep up a long-winded debate about classical literature. And soon enough, his mind shifts to a topic even more boggling. The Convocation? And Azem herself...? He can scarce believe what he's hearing. Why should they be aware of him or wish to speak with him? It makes no sense. In fact, he tilts his head sideways in a clear expression of doubt and skepticism.]
Say what you will of Loveless, but you should never joke of such things. You do realize that, do you not? I already know that I will be punished for disobeying the elders regardless of whether we defeated that beast or not. Which I can only presume that we did, since you are here.
...Though I may be more adept at magicks than most of my peers, it is a curse as much as a blessing. It does not make me special.
[He still does not understand why Hythlodaeus insists on staying or coming, nor why he seems so content to remain as he is. The pile of books is considerable. How long has he been here for already> He cannot mean to stay with him the entire time. Hades looks away, arms folding around himself.]
As for your bedside manner, you won't be getting any commendation from me.
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The strongest, yet a notably incomplete work. They say that the last acts are hidden and wait in some far-flung corner of the world to be uncovered, yet... perhaps the Altima of that time simply decided to cut their losses and spend their time writing something more interesting.
[A small laugh escapes him, yet it's wholly different from the ones he had given Hades thusfar. For there is a small amount of fondness in it. It was that very fondness, after all, which had him come up with something quite untrue- that he had been the one to rush headlong into danger, and dutiful, stern Hades had only followed to see he did not come to harm.
Something corroborated by his aether having destroyed the seal on the facilities' door. And corroborated by the fleeing elders, of whom had glanced the pair of them.]
I'll have you know- [In a playful tone, of course;] that the mere thought of my joking in regard to something like that is most hurtful. [A faint smile.] You'll have to make it right by attending your summons in perfect health and not doing anything silly, like leaving early. Otherwise I- and the Words, shall no doubt be looked upon as incompetents. And you would not do that to us, would you?
[A curse though.
That alludes, faintly, to the dreams he was having...
His facial expression smoothes from his smile, into his lips forming a neutral line. And...]
Would you tell me of it? How something like your talent could be considered detrimental.
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Mayhap if half of the words that leave your mouth weren't pure rubbish and ridicule, I'd be inclined to give them their due consideration. Besides, even if I was to be summoned, it would have no bearing on you or the Words. They are two completely separate matters.
[Yet Hades, too, has questions, and he spares another glance at him over his shoulder. Unfortunately, winning Hades over will prove more difficult than simply reading to him.]
If it will be enough to convince you that whatever your reason for being here is severely misguided: not three moons ago I developed a spell called Dark Eruption. A classmate begged me share the papers I'd drafted for its submission, and so I did. Little did I know he would attempt to use the spell without full knowledge of its application. He lost control, and amidst the chaos and the screams, three other students were taken away to be treated. ...it targets not one, but five enemies, you see.
And this is only one such tale. In the hands of others, my work brings ruin. What good are they to the star if but a single person is capable of using them? And that is why I seek the means to continue my studies alone.
[A pause, just long enough to shake out the blankets and straighten them back down, perhaps to avoid whatever expression may have formed on his companion's face.]
...You, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter. Why do you pretend to be so utterly hopeless in all respects when your soulsight is extraordinary? You may not be gifted in aetherial manipulation, but you were able to detect what both the elders and I could not.
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Yet now, he finds himself smiling. ...For it really is quite funny. And he might even be stifling a small laugh.]
It matters. For should you meet Azem still battered, still bruised, and still weakly clawing back your aether reserves, both I and the Words would be held to account for it.
[But ah. He listens to Hades recount that... well, rather sorry state of affairs, and he finds his mouth drawing into a perfect line. And then a slight grimace. He's heard of this, he's sure. It really was such a long time ago, but... the injuries were lifechanging, he's certain.
Yet. One detail is new. That the concept was detailed to be multi-target. That his classmate had overlooked that part. Such would be anyone's defence at something so terrible happening. Insist that something had been overlooked, that it was the fault of the person that used it, and-
-but as he looks at Hades, he sees no sign of the lie. No indication that anything untruthful or exaggerated had been uttered. So...]
It strikes me that perhaps you were foolish to give someone something before it had been approved. [Somewhat arrogant, as well. If something were wrong with the spell, the very same thing could have happened even if it had been read correctly.] It is not your work that brings ruin. More your judgment... in that instance.
[Probably not what he wanted to hear, but it's astute. And as Hades asks his own question, he stands, fetching himself some water.]
I can assure you, I'm hardly pretending. Perhaps I exaggerate, but to be entirely honest with you, I've no skill at aether manipulation. I may use my own aether-
[He pours from a large jug, deciding to pour Hades a glass as well. No doubt, he needs it after being unconscious for so long.]
- in creation magick with no error. Yet taking aether from the world around me, forging it, shaping it, aspecting it to something else... [A brief shake of his head.] It's quite beyond me. My own aether tends to get in the way.
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Simply tell her that I refused rest and wouldn't follow your instruction. It wouldn't be a lie.
[Although, all told, Hades does at least intend to cooperate. He wants to get better. He does not wish to cause further issue for anyone else.]
Think you I haven't relived that day countless times already? Of course I should never have handed it over! But he was so persistent and we are taught to always bolster one another to shared success. I thought that viewing the written foundation of a successful spell would help him better improve his own, which he'd been struggling with for a time. I might have known that testing mine would prove too much of a temptation...
[Hades slowly leans forward to rest his elbows on his bent knees, his cowl hiding even most of his masked face as if he might vanish into shadow.]
I don't blame him for his curiosity.
[Nor does he offer any further argument about whether or not the work should have been approved beforehand. He had, in fact, planned to submit it the very next day for approval. He'd even gone to his teacher to have his calculations reviewed, just in case he'd overlooked any small detail in its formula. His classmate (and at the time, someone he considered a friend) had caught him just after.]
[His head is throbbing again, and Hades closes his eyes wearily.]
Yes, yes, I realize all of that already... I'm not here to harp on your shortcomings. I'm asking why you choose instead to hide your talents.
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Yet even then, he falls to a silence, and he listens. For something about what Hades says then- about it being shared in the hope of improving the other- strikes him as odd. Hm.]
In all of the tellings of the tale, I had not heard it that way before. Most believe that it is a story of two vainglorious mages. The first, having created such a magick, saw no reason to go through the proper channels. He merely passed it to an equally arrogant friend, in the hopes of inspiring awe with his work.
[Indeed, the fact that the aforementioned friend had not been instructed to use it was absolutely not part of the tale he'd heard. ...Hades' own doing, he suspects. It's only an inkling of a suspicion thus far, but he does seem entirely far too modest for the story in common knowledge to be in any ways true.
But. He does not press. For seeing the other boy sink like that-
He must be tired. It simply wouldn't do to accost him with questions about something that obviously affects him while he is supposed to be recovering. So. He takes a seat again, his hand slipping into his own hood to move some of his hair behind his ear.]
Talents?
[A small laugh escapes him, for he is, most certainly, surprised.]
Are you sure you're feeling quite well? I have a middling interest in archery. I should hardly call that anything of note.
[He really doesn't know.]
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[A quiet murmur. Perhaps it has been fashioned thus for a purpose, a lesson for others to be wary of their decisions, to be humble, to follow the proper steps and not think themselves better than their fellows. It is such a distortion of what truly happened, and yet... if it would protect his fellows, if it would stop another young mage from making the same mistake, who is he to set the record to rights? That day, when the elders had taken him in for questioning, he had shared with them the whole truth, unflinchingly. ...the whole truth, that is-- save, for it being his friend's own choice to set off the spell. A blight upon his own record, a punishment for Hades alone to bear with no one else the wiser. His friend had avoided him after that. They'd never spoken again.]
[He sighs, this a softer sound that is not exaggerated in the slightest. His mouth twitches, and yet he doesn't offer complaint or protest.]
...then perhaps you should put what I've said out of your mind. I must have spoken in error.
[Hades is really quite thirsty, and hungry - even as his stomach would still attempt to roil within him. He casts a sideways glance at the second poured glass. If Hythlodaeus has no plans to drink of them both, then...]
[Yet he does not ask.]
We both know I'm feeling dreadful, thank you very much.
But I'm being serious. You were able to see that beast from the start, were you not? Once we gathered outside that final chamber, I was finally able to sense its presence, but I never once saw it physically appear. If not for your arrows, and the very fact that it caught fire soon after, I would not have known where to take aim.
...I also fail to understand how the creature was defeated. Did the elders show up to save us immediately after I lost consciousness?
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[He highly doubts any of it was distorted out of maliciousness. For there would be no point in curbing such a talented young mages' spirit. Perhaps it is more a matter of slight misrememberances in play as the story got repeated? Or an individual's opinion becoming fact in the next retelling and...
Yes, the water. He'd quite forgotten, and surely, were he to be telling the truth about being interested in dedicating his purpose to Emmerololth's Words, he would likely be quite terrible at that, as well. His arm reaches forward to tap Hades on the shoulder before he hands his glass over, hovering close by to take it when he is finished.
And...
His expression turns somewhat distant, his smile that much more wan.]
Yes, I was. I could see it as soon as we spoke to the elders within the city, actually. [Yes, even from that distance away. In a city full of souls, he could detect, he could pinpoint, and he could read it as bad news. Hence, his reservations about actually going in.] It's hardly talent, for talent is something that can be used. More some form of joke. I may be able to see things, yet I lack the strength to do anything about them.
[A light shrug of his shoulders follows, and he takes his seat once more.]
As for your other question... something rather strange did happen. A great tear in reality occurred. Energies poured into you, and darkness covered you. And-
[A great arm suddenly burst from his back. Bigger, even, than the creature. And he closed the arm's fist around it, and squeezed, and squeezed, and... Oh. It was hardly a pretty thing to observe. Even if he had craved retribution for what had happened to the elder within the akademia- watching it explode within that hand's grasp had almost made him very violently ill.]
...And you defeated it. In a single blow, might I add! Then...
[He had locked eyes with this... thing Hades had become. And he had saw him. Really saw him for who he was, as he stared at the clump of shadow that seemed so very different from the great and terrible figures their kind made when transformed. He was utterly unadorned. When the arm had retracted within his back, he was bare- just a mound of shadow about Hythlodaeus' own height, so very dark he did not even reflect light. The only thing of note, really, was his eyes. Four total, staring at him, just as much as he stared at it.
...He'd seemed to cut quite a lonely figure, actually. Seemed fragile, almost. And then, he had fallen to the ground. And Hythlodaeus had stayed with him until help had come.]
...I'm rather pleased you do not remember. Most likely, you'd have been quite ashamed of me for all of the shouting I did until we were found.
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