I am much less attached to places than I am to people Her words ring through his mind, troubled as it is. As he gazes to the stars, he tries to let the easy comfort of her company push away his worry and his doubts, but his thoughts are too cluttered with worry and with grief. Every corner of Denocte was a reminder now, of the life that might have been. He mourns for Morrighan, and seems to be the only one who does, and moreso for Maeve, the child who was just beginning her life… to be taken from this world was just unfair, a thought he couldn’t seem to come to grips with.
He shivered in the night, pressing her closer as he murmurs quietly to her question of whether or not he could have stayed, for it is a question which plagues him even now. He didn’t know how he could stay in Denocte… not now, not when there were so many ghosts and unfamiliar faces. It pained him to think of it, for Caligo’s realm had always been his home. It had been his home long ago, though the place where the shed-stars had lived bore a different name. It had still been under the same sky though, the same stars. He had still worshiped the same goddess.
“I do not know…” he says at last, clearly conflicted in his response. For it was an existential question which she begged of him, one without a right answer. How could Virgo go, and leave those who roamed the earth behind? The same way that he would go, turning his back on Denocte and following Elena into the light, even if it pained him some to do so. He would follow her anywhere though, and Denocte wasn’t home anymore… not after all which had come to pass. Caligo would understand.
Elena was home, now.
“We will go until we are home.” His voice is barely a whisper, pained as he glances at the sky he loved so, knowing that this was goodbye. Azrael shifts his attention to her secret, a soft smile hinting at his lips. “Our secret… How can I forget.” For that night had given him the greatest gift, for even if the child wore Tenebrae’s sigil, she was his. She was theirs.
Her voice is soothing, like a summer rain after months of drought, soothing his troubled mind as he sighs into the gold of her neck. For his secret was nothing of light, but betrayed a creeping darkness within him. “I cannot stay here, in Denocte… not after all that has happened.” He steps away from her, pacing a bt as he offers her a broken and pained glance. “I cannot fathom how the rest of Caligo’s people can simply move on like nothing has happened… they’re gone Elena – Morrighan, Maeve, others too… Dead.” It sounded so final and hollow, breaking him all over again. “I dream of them… the same dreams, again and again. They call to me for help, but try as I might, I cannot reach them…”
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