It was the source of a calamity that was gripping our star. One that had ended countless other worlds before ours, consuming them in despair until all life was eradicated. We went to Ultima Thule with no knowledge of what we would find there, borne on hope alone, because we were given the chance to flee the destruction that was coming for us and instead we chose to fight.
[He presses his lips together into a tight line.]
But what we found there was nothingness. No life, no aether. Not one of us would have lived had we set foot outside that ship. There was nothing. Nothing but dynamis saturated with countless centuries of hatred and sorrow and loss.
None of us knew what she was capable of, in the seat of her own power, there in her nest.
Then why in the world would you go! You just-- threw yourself at something that ended countless worlds with nothing but a prayer, hoped you'd somehow figure something out?!
[he's actually shaking thancred a bit, by the lapels of his coat.]
[something something world unification big damn heroes moment]
Yes. That is what we did. We decided to fight for the star that we love and our right to live upon it. For everyone's right to live upon it.
[The corners of his mouth pull back, just a fraction. It's not a smile.]
Because the only other option was triage. Not enough room to take everyone and flee. A council of a hundred isolationist academics deciding who would be granted a place and who would be left behind. They would leave the undesirables, of course. Abandon the ones who might cause trouble. Pack up everything they could carry and turn tail and run.
[...he falls silent, there, mouth pulling into a frown, long brows furrowed. not enough room for everyone to leave their world, to survive-- and survival would mean restarting completely. somewhere wholly unfamiliar.
rynlan isn't sure what sounds more terrifying: facing the source like they did, or risking being left behind.]
...it wasn't just them. The people with you. It was... it was everyone.
[the people he wanted to save, the world he wanted to save. it was all of it.]
There are six — six worlds, six shards, that surround our star. Whole worlds, filled with cities and peoples and history. I lived on one of them for five years. The same shard my Minfilia looked me in the eyes and chose sacrifice to save.
[That's a very conspicuously-chosen turn of phrase. It's one he's uttered before, albeit in a strikingly different tone than this.]
None of them were part of the plan.
[After a moment, he lets out a slow breath, behind clenched teeth. It shakes.]
Did you hear her say didn't have the chance to be transformed? D'you want to know what happens to a person claimed by the power of dynamis? They become abominations, roiling with fear and hatred, whose influence spreads like a virus to any other who surrenders to despair in their presence. And when they're slain, they leave nothing. No return to the aetherial sea. No trace left of the person they once were. They don't leave a body or a heart or a soul, because dynamis consumes them wholly and utterly and leaves nothing left in its wake.
[he recoils slightly, at that, at the horror of the thought of it. of there being nothing at all, no soul, no life, just... snuffed out. like they never existed at all.
...damn it all, he can't-- he can't be angry with him over this. over deciding that if worlds were going to die anyway, it's worth trying.]
So you... you gave them the chance to do something about it.
Inadvertently. I...as it was explained to me after, the results of what had happened to me gave my much more scholarly colleagues the clues they needed to progress forward.
[So yes. He really did kind of save everyone.]
Dynamis draws its power from emotion. Or...something like that. My emotion was strong enough to overpower hers. So long as my desire for them to survive remained stronger than her desire to claim them...that landscape existed, and could support life.
The very ground on which they stood. The air they had to breathe. [He draws a slow breath.] It endured for them, so long as my resolve did.
No. I survived this — we all did. Because it didn't end with just me. Every time the group sought to advance, one of them had to give themselves up to make the path for the rest. One by one, the lot of us, until all that remained was the redheaded girl with the staff.
Before we'd embarked for Ultima Thule, our patron goddess had given her power sufficient to call us all back to her side, if she'd so desired it. And yet she couldn't, because to call us back — me back — would be to unmake everything we'd formed of our hopes and dreams. An unwinnable situation.
[He shrugs, like he's trying to turn the conversation lighthearted and doesn't quite succeed at it.]
But leave it to her to find a way regardless. She's rather a knack for it.
-you were all forced to leave her alone to do it, in the end.
[it's a horrifying thought, to go through something like that. to be trying to accomplish something on that level, and to lose all of your support one person at a time.
he doesn't think he could do it.]
She must be strong, then, to have managed something like that.
Strong and clever. She found aid to call for that didn't involve dragging us back.
[And because said aid is a massive bottom who always comes running for his friend even when he's pretending they're divorced, it worked out.]
And when that aid had secured all the influence we'd given ourselves for, then she was able to rescue us. So no. It was a close thing — but I didn't perish at Ultima Thule. We won. And we all went home.
[And maybe in another time and place, he would boast or laugh or say something typically cocky and commonplace for him, but this time, Thancred just nods slowly, a gentle rise and fall of his chin. It sounds so different in someone else's words. So rare, when he's failed so much and carried the burdens of so many guilts and sins, to save everything and everyone, just the once.
But then, when the follow-up comes, he does chuckle under his breath.]
My heart stopped. Gave out, one night, in my sleep.
[He closes his eyes.]
That time when Nav hit me. I mentioned it brought back a powerful memory of something, didn't I?
[...oh. oh, no. his ears twitch at that, as he frowns.]
After all of that, just... natural causes? At your age? But you-
[he looks slightly distressed at this thought, actually, tamping down hard on the urge to ask if he's had any history of complications. any family history. any sign, anything, that might give him an idea of whether it's treatable.
....he can't think like that, he just can't, it's not-- this isn't his to fix.]
— pushed myself too hard, too far, too many times. I've always demanded much and more of these grizzled old bones; 'tis hardly surprising they finally gave up the ghost.
[He says, softly, oblivious to the train of thought running through Rynlan's mind but astute enough to pick up on the concerns.]
'Tis one of the reasons I like it when you reach for me. Feeling your touch reminds me of being alive, hale and hearty and whole.
Don't-- stop talking about yourself that way, you're not nearly old enough for it to be expected.
[his hands shift, one moving from the lapel of thancred's coat to rest over his heart-- but then when he speaks again, ryn's fingers twitch, like he's about to reflexively pull his hand away. like hearing that stings him, somehow, an unexpected little jolt.
he leaves it where it is.]
You're alive enough here. You don't need me for that.
[It's the touch to his hair that gets him, really. Kisses are all well and good, but any manner of sentiment can be attached to them, even when it's little to no sentiment at all. But Ryn could've kissed him without the extra contact — has done it before, could easily do it again — and yet.]
Did you...? Clever of you. But then, I am the fool of the two of us.
[He lets out a slow breath, tipping his chin until their foreheads bunt together gently.]
[he's quiet for a few moments, seemingly content to rest there-- thinking, maybe, though from this close it's hard to see his expression to be certain of it. there's no sound except for his breath, until he finally says-]
You're going to have to use a few more words than that, Thancred.
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[what does he mean, it was already too late-- but he's holding that question in reserve.]
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[He presses his lips together into a tight line.]
But what we found there was nothingness. No life, no aether. Not one of us would have lived had we set foot outside that ship. There was nothing. Nothing but dynamis saturated with countless centuries of hatred and sorrow and loss.
None of us knew what she was capable of, in the seat of her own power, there in her nest.
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[he's actually shaking thancred a bit, by the lapels of his coat.]
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[something something world unification big damn heroes moment]
Yes. That is what we did. We decided to fight for the star that we love and our right to live upon it. For everyone's right to live upon it.
[The corners of his mouth pull back, just a fraction. It's not a smile.]
Because the only other option was triage. Not enough room to take everyone and flee. A council of a hundred isolationist academics deciding who would be granted a place and who would be left behind. They would leave the undesirables, of course. Abandon the ones who might cause trouble. Pack up everything they could carry and turn tail and run.
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[...he falls silent, there, mouth pulling into a frown, long brows furrowed. not enough room for everyone to leave their world, to survive-- and survival would mean restarting completely. somewhere wholly unfamiliar.
rynlan isn't sure what sounds more terrifying: facing the source like they did, or risking being left behind.]
...it wasn't just them. The people with you. It was... it was everyone.
[the people he wanted to save, the world he wanted to save. it was all of it.]
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[That's a very conspicuously-chosen turn of phrase. It's one he's uttered before, albeit in a strikingly different tone than this.]
None of them were part of the plan.
[After a moment, he lets out a slow breath, behind clenched teeth. It shakes.]
Did you hear her say didn't have the chance to be transformed? D'you want to know what happens to a person claimed by the power of dynamis? They become abominations, roiling with fear and hatred, whose influence spreads like a virus to any other who surrenders to despair in their presence. And when they're slain, they leave nothing. No return to the aetherial sea. No trace left of the person they once were. They don't leave a body or a heart or a soul, because dynamis consumes them wholly and utterly and leaves nothing left in its wake.
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...damn it all, he can't-- he can't be angry with him over this. over deciding that if worlds were going to die anyway, it's worth trying.]
So you... you gave them the chance to do something about it.
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[So yes. He really did kind of save everyone.]
Dynamis draws its power from emotion. Or...something like that. My emotion was strong enough to overpower hers. So long as my desire for them to survive remained stronger than her desire to claim them...that landscape existed, and could support life.
The very ground on which they stood. The air they had to breathe. [He draws a slow breath.] It endured for them, so long as my resolve did.
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[to feel so strongly about saving them, about wanting them to live, that it would overpower her--
thancred's a much better person than he is, he's sure.]
Was that how you...?
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Before we'd embarked for Ultima Thule, our patron goddess had given her power sufficient to call us all back to her side, if she'd so desired it. And yet she couldn't, because to call us back — me back — would be to unmake everything we'd formed of our hopes and dreams. An unwinnable situation.
[He shrugs, like he's trying to turn the conversation lighthearted and doesn't quite succeed at it.]
But leave it to her to find a way regardless. She's rather a knack for it.
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[it's a horrifying thought, to go through something like that. to be trying to accomplish something on that level, and to lose all of your support one person at a time.
he doesn't think he could do it.]
She must be strong, then, to have managed something like that.
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[And because said aid is a massive bottom who always comes running for his friend even when he's pretending they're divorced, it worked out.]
And when that aid had secured all the influence we'd given ourselves for, then she was able to rescue us. So no. It was a close thing — but I didn't perish at Ultima Thule. We won. And we all went home.
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You were able to save everything. Everyone.
[soft, maybe slightly awed, though he quickly forces it from his tone.]
If you managed that then what in the world actually succeeded in killing you?
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But then, when the follow-up comes, he does chuckle under his breath.]
My heart stopped. Gave out, one night, in my sleep.
[He closes his eyes.]
That time when Nav hit me. I mentioned it brought back a powerful memory of something, didn't I?
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After all of that, just... natural causes? At your age? But you-
[he looks slightly distressed at this thought, actually, tamping down hard on the urge to ask if he's had any history of complications. any family history. any sign, anything, that might give him an idea of whether it's treatable.
....he can't think like that, he just can't, it's not-- this isn't his to fix.]
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[He says, softly, oblivious to the train of thought running through Rynlan's mind but astute enough to pick up on the concerns.]
'Tis one of the reasons I like it when you reach for me. Feeling your touch reminds me of being alive, hale and hearty and whole.
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[his hands shift, one moving from the lapel of thancred's coat to rest over his heart-- but then when he speaks again, ryn's fingers twitch, like he's about to reflexively pull his hand away. like hearing that stings him, somehow, an unexpected little jolt.
he leaves it where it is.]
You're alive enough here. You don't need me for that.
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I didn't say I needed it.
[He doesn't smile, but there's the implication of it reflected in his eyes even so.]
Though I'd be grateful for a check-over, if you happened to be so inclined.
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I'm retired, you know. And yet here you people are, dragging me back into it.
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[He shakes his head, his usual smile at last returning to his mouth, even as some of it fades from his eyes.]
Never mind — call it a jest, nothing more.
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he reaches up to brush thancred's bangs back from his face, leans down to press a brief kiss to his lips.]
I understood it, don't worry about that.
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Did you...? Clever of you. But then, I am the fool of the two of us.
[He lets out a slow breath, tipping his chin until their foreheads bunt together gently.]
M'not — I don't — I realize...that you. Don't —
[...]
...Selfish of me, I know.
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You're going to have to use a few more words than that, Thancred.
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[He lets that thought hang there a moment, quiet and still.]
Yet here I am, and you've yet to push me away.
[And, one breath of his own later: ]
If we were never here, and this never happened. What would you do?
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...if everything here went well. If what we ended up with, ultimately, was the best-case scenario. What would happen then?
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