if the earth quakes down, buildings fall
☼
There were not many goals in his life. At least, not anymore. After some time, with the grains of the hourglass falling and falling, he knew he could not continue to try and fulfill goals that he hadn't been able to achieve his entire life.
That is why, now, he mainly had only a couple. Many of which revolved around others. Helping, listening—anything that might benefit another.
For Avallac'h, though, he merely wished to finally find some reprieve. So that he might be able to enjoy whatever time he had left. It was difficult because it meant letting go, and Avallac'h was never a man to let go of things he cared about.
The side of his mouth ticked up at her observation. She was correct, and he was willing to let her know that.
"An astute observation, and a correct one." He told her without a hint of hesitation, and he left it at that. There was no need for him to go on about how he was a sentimental fool, one that remembers the specific kind of flowers he picked, or the nickname he had come to cherish from Pyrrha, the prayer he spoke out in his native tongue as he stepped onto the dais within the basilica of Nicosia.
Small things—important things.
Just as important as the cloak he wore, given to him by the older mage that had taught Avallac'h all he could in the darkness of the night. As important as the necklace he had come to wear, the first piece that told him he was more than just an unwanted piece, one meant to do more than labor away for those lucky enough to be born without sorcery filling that hollow center he still felt inside of him.
(Important because they reminded him of his Saros, his lost brother; of the ones he harmed and those he snatched away like a monster in the night from families.)
Ear twitching at the monotonous chuckle she let free, he listened closely to what she said. He didn't miss her dulled smile, one that told him she had enough experience in letting others know, in having to deal with telling others such. Again, he found himself wondering.
Wonders about how she came to rise out of the arid sand of the desert, or imprisoned by magic—Avallac'h didn't dare to ask any of his questions. He had no right to.
Leaving it be, as he did many things (even with matters involving those he cared so much about) he had merely nodded in acknowledgment of her words. Hoping that, if they ever came to find themselves among one another again, he wouldn't have to worry about looking out for the signs she portrayed as being quite noticeable.
Closely taking in her words, he gave a tender smile in response to her own, one that remained present on his lips even after her words grew subdued. It was a smile of gentle gratitude, comfort, appreciating, for being more honest with him. He understood, in his own way, the uncertainty revolving around not know what awaited him.
Hopefully, something better than the heartache found in Edana, or in Sovereign, Nordlys, Caeleste...
Hopefully.
Not doubting that she would be fine, he only wished that she found rest and a place she felt comfortable. Somewhere that wasn't the dunes of Novus.
Body turning to face her head-on, his head angled to the side as he genuinely considered her question. The second was easy to answer, and so, it was the first one he chose to reply to. "I aim at gaining nothing. However, I am quite aware many find that unbelievable, perhaps, yourself even." He shrugs, knowing his proof will be when he leaves her with a simple goodbye. "Yet, that is it. I hope to gain nothing from helping you, I only hope I was able to help you, maybe even ease your... wakening." His eyes squint lightly, uncertain as to if that was the correct word to use. Given what little information he has, though, it is the best one he can come up with.
He leaves it be, "As for my worrying, I suppose you can say it is something that has built up over time. I had a few daughters whom I constantly worried for, despite them all being grown women." His smile is nostalgic, and while it hurts to bring them up he manages to keep away his pain and grief. "I worry more than I should, try as I might to stop it, I have yet to be able to. I apologize if you might wish differently."
After this, she wouldn't have to worry about his worrying. Not when he wouldn't be around to bother her and impress his need to care for others on her. Well, that is if they never came to cross paths again.
He gestures in the direction of Delumine as he begins speaking again, "While Delumine or Solterra may not be what awaits you, might I suggest visiting if you ever find yourself wanting to? Not to see myself specifically, but merely for the sake of placing yourself elsewhere." He says, sure to clarify. The smile on his lips turned a little more lighthearted, "When I was a wanderer, I found that placing myself somewhere different helped with the... running away, was it?" His sentence only turns into a question as he tries to remember exactly what she had said earlier in the day.
"It may help to ease your mind, is all, that and finding others to speak to—distractions. Although—" his words suddenly stop, a sheepish look overcoming him.
"I apologize, it's not my place to give unwanted advice." A contraction; a more sincere apology, but that does not mean his others weren't sincere. "Forgive me."
Speech
@Hälla
That is why, now, he mainly had only a couple. Many of which revolved around others. Helping, listening—anything that might benefit another.
For Avallac'h, though, he merely wished to finally find some reprieve. So that he might be able to enjoy whatever time he had left. It was difficult because it meant letting go, and Avallac'h was never a man to let go of things he cared about.
The side of his mouth ticked up at her observation. She was correct, and he was willing to let her know that.
"An astute observation, and a correct one." He told her without a hint of hesitation, and he left it at that. There was no need for him to go on about how he was a sentimental fool, one that remembers the specific kind of flowers he picked, or the nickname he had come to cherish from Pyrrha, the prayer he spoke out in his native tongue as he stepped onto the dais within the basilica of Nicosia.
Small things—important things.
Just as important as the cloak he wore, given to him by the older mage that had taught Avallac'h all he could in the darkness of the night. As important as the necklace he had come to wear, the first piece that told him he was more than just an unwanted piece, one meant to do more than labor away for those lucky enough to be born without sorcery filling that hollow center he still felt inside of him.
(Important because they reminded him of his Saros, his lost brother; of the ones he harmed and those he snatched away like a monster in the night from families.)
Ear twitching at the monotonous chuckle she let free, he listened closely to what she said. He didn't miss her dulled smile, one that told him she had enough experience in letting others know, in having to deal with telling others such. Again, he found himself wondering.
Wonders about how she came to rise out of the arid sand of the desert, or imprisoned by magic—Avallac'h didn't dare to ask any of his questions. He had no right to.
Leaving it be, as he did many things (even with matters involving those he cared so much about) he had merely nodded in acknowledgment of her words. Hoping that, if they ever came to find themselves among one another again, he wouldn't have to worry about looking out for the signs she portrayed as being quite noticeable.
Closely taking in her words, he gave a tender smile in response to her own, one that remained present on his lips even after her words grew subdued. It was a smile of gentle gratitude, comfort, appreciating, for being more honest with him. He understood, in his own way, the uncertainty revolving around not know what awaited him.
Hopefully, something better than the heartache found in Edana, or in Sovereign, Nordlys, Caeleste...
Hopefully.
Not doubting that she would be fine, he only wished that she found rest and a place she felt comfortable. Somewhere that wasn't the dunes of Novus.
Body turning to face her head-on, his head angled to the side as he genuinely considered her question. The second was easy to answer, and so, it was the first one he chose to reply to. "I aim at gaining nothing. However, I am quite aware many find that unbelievable, perhaps, yourself even." He shrugs, knowing his proof will be when he leaves her with a simple goodbye. "Yet, that is it. I hope to gain nothing from helping you, I only hope I was able to help you, maybe even ease your... wakening." His eyes squint lightly, uncertain as to if that was the correct word to use. Given what little information he has, though, it is the best one he can come up with.
He leaves it be, "As for my worrying, I suppose you can say it is something that has built up over time. I had a few daughters whom I constantly worried for, despite them all being grown women." His smile is nostalgic, and while it hurts to bring them up he manages to keep away his pain and grief. "I worry more than I should, try as I might to stop it, I have yet to be able to. I apologize if you might wish differently."
After this, she wouldn't have to worry about his worrying. Not when he wouldn't be around to bother her and impress his need to care for others on her. Well, that is if they never came to cross paths again.
He gestures in the direction of Delumine as he begins speaking again, "While Delumine or Solterra may not be what awaits you, might I suggest visiting if you ever find yourself wanting to? Not to see myself specifically, but merely for the sake of placing yourself elsewhere." He says, sure to clarify. The smile on his lips turned a little more lighthearted, "When I was a wanderer, I found that placing myself somewhere different helped with the... running away, was it?" His sentence only turns into a question as he tries to remember exactly what she had said earlier in the day.
"It may help to ease your mind, is all, that and finding others to speak to—distractions. Although—" his words suddenly stop, a sheepish look overcoming him.
"I apologize, it's not my place to give unwanted advice." A contraction; a more sincere apology, but that does not mean his others weren't sincere. "Forgive me."
@Hälla
