[fic] chasing dreams [10/11]
Title: chasing dreams
Series: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Gen, Friendship/Love, Introspection
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Mikleo/Sorey, Elysians and mentions of Zenrus in this chapter
Warnings: All the spoilers and possible post-game feels. Also steampunk/solarpunk fantasy Glenwood(?)
Summary: Of rediscovery and finding his way through the dark.
A/N: Music inspiration for scene#10: the sacrifice
~.*.~
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He felt it the moment they left the eaves of the forest - past the crumbling stone monuments that lined the hidden path alongside the sparse trees, up the gentle incline of the mountainside. He paced the last few steps over the short grass, coming to a halt before two stone archways that marked the entrance into Elysia.
The archways were centuries old; despite their weathered and wind-scoured states, there remained still an aura of idyllic majesty to them. Enthralled, Sorey turned his gaze from the lichen that grew around the base and up along the towering columns instead, marvelling at the distinctive coloured motifs engraved in stone. He closed his eyes, feeling a shiver of nervous anticipation down his spine, a tingle of emotions all at once: apprehension, sorrow and a yearning he hadn’t felt since the first time he’d awoken in the cavern alone with Phoenix and Maotelus. And beneath the yearning, there were other emotions as well - an underlying sense of elation, contentment and... love? He knew without understanding how or why that this place was home.
Mikleo had already moved several paces ahead and was glancing back expectantly at him. Sorey slowly released the breath he hadn’t realise he’d been holding, and moved past the archways, towards what looked to be a peaceful seraphim village shrine. Their arrival had not been missed; he could see some of the residents peering curiously out of their stone houses, gathering in a small circle towards them.
“l’m home. Sorry for being away so long,” Mikleo announced to the approaching villagers, his usually stoic expression now crinkled with quiet joy. Sorey caught a flash of movement from the edges of his vision, a blur of lavender and white. A young girl (a seraph - no, a human child? ) had dashed forward from the crowd and was flinging herself at Mikleo, arms latched around the water seraph’s torso in a tight hug.
“You’re late, Mikleo! What took you so long this time? Everyone’s missed you so!” She pulled away, before glancing shyly up at Sorey with wide, curious eyes. “Who’s your new friend? Oh, oh, is that a normin? I’ve never seen one up-close before. It’s adorable!”
Phoenix only gave a snort from where he was perched on Sorey’s shoulder. He hopped down onto the short grass, tiny arms crossed over his chest as he glared reproachfully at the girl.
“Adorable, she says. Hah! That’s where you are greatly mistaken. I am not adorable; I am Phoenix, the greatest among normin. You do well to remember that... hey, wha-! Unhand me, unworthy human!”
“He sounds so silly,” the girl giggled, lifting the normin up so she could hug him close to her chest. “I like him already.”
“Don’t tease him too much, Sofie,” Mikleo said, raising a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide his amusement. “And I’m sorry for being away a lot longer this time. There had been a few unexpected detours along the way...” He glanced back at Sorey, the corners of his lips curved into a smile, before he turned towards Sofie and the gathered villagers again, some of whom had also moved to greet him with hearty embraces.
One of villagers - a seraph with hair that reminded Sorey of the sapphire waters of Ladylake - stepped forward hesitantly. Her gaze was imploring, flicking over Sorey, and then back to Mikleo again.
“Mikleo, is that...?”
“Natalie, wait-” Mikleo began, trying to explain. There was already a growing excitement among the villagers however; a collective murmuring followed by a series of gasps when surprise gave way to recognition after they had all caught a good look at Sorey. Before he could speak or react to the villagers’ expectant gazes, there was a flurry of movement as Natalie and a few others rushed towards him, their voices raised in a mixture of disbelief and elation.
“Sorey, is that you? Oh, please, say it is so!”
“It really is Sorey. Our Sorey is back, safe and sound!”
“I knew you would return someday, I just knew it!”
Sorey could only manage a confused smile as he returned their fond hugs, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of attention and warmth he was showered with. A large, robust fellow with a smile as golden as the sun reached for him, lifting him up and spinning him around as he whooped and laughed joyously.
“Look at our dear boy! What a fine seraph he’s become - a lightning seraph too, just like Gra-”
“-Shaun, be gentle!” Another seraph, an elderly woman with a wrinkled smile, chided good-naturedly. “You have the poor lad all spooked!”
At her words, Shaun paused his twirling, giving the dizzied Sorey an apologetic smile. He quickly released his hold, thumping the youngest seraph upon the back instead.
“Sorry laddie, didn’t mean to frighten you. But we’re all just so grateful to see you again. It’s been so, so long, after all.”
“We’ve all missed you so much, Sorey,” the elderly woman said. Her eyes were already glistening with tears.
“Ah, I... You must be the Elysians Mikleo has told me about; the ones who had raised us both,” Sorey said, guilt gnawing away at his insides once more. He lowered his head, unable to bear the weight of their gazes, the way their eyes had clouded in confusion at his seemingly detached response to their outpouring of emotion.
He sensed movement from his side, and saw Mikleo stepping before him, as if to shield him from further questioning.
“Sorry, everyone. I know you’re eager to learn more and I promise I will explain everything when I can. Sorey’s doing fine for now, I assure you. But he’s still re-learning many things about himself, so I hope you can give him the space and time to find his bearings.”
A momentary silence hung over them, followed by whispered murmurs as the villagers glanced at one another in uncertainty. Sorey felt the knot in his gut tightening, the uneasiness clenching and unclenching deep within him. But the villagers only nodded, their expressions soft and kind, even though they couldn’t quite hide the flicker of sadness in their eyes.
“We understand,” said the elderly woman, brushing away the tears from her eyes before they could fall. She looked as though she’d wanted to reach for him, thought better of it and kept her hands clasped together at her breast instead. “It’s all right, Sorey. Take all the time you need. Elysia is still very much your home as it is ours.”
“And thank you for your kindness,” Sorey dipped his head, grateful for their patience. He gave them his best smile. “There is something very nostalgic and hauntingly familiar about Elysia. It... It almost feels as though I’m always meant to return here.”
Even if I don’t seem to remember much of it, or any of the Elysians here.
“Well, a lot has changed over the decades,” Natalie began, one hand clutched at her side as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress. She gazed over at Sofie, who had skipped away with Phoenix now draped over her shoulder, to where three other human children stood behind a seraph elder with a cane, watching the gathering warily from a distance. “Until very recently, you and Mikleo had been the only children growing up in Elysia, and you were the only human among us.”
Sorey tilted his head, thinking back to what Mikleo had shared with him before about their home. “I see. So these children haven’t always lived here?”
“Indeed. They had been abandoned by their families to a life on the streets.” Shaun nodded at the elderly woman. “Medea here found the first one, Sofie, as a lost orphan child while gathering herbs in the forest. And then Shiron and Cynthia had stumbled upon the others during a visit to the Capital several years back.”
“Kyme had been reluctant at first, to the idea of adopting them, but we couldn’t have left them on their own after finding them,” Medea said, lips curved into a fond smile now. “Not when these children could obviously perceive us, and especially not after raising you alongside Mikleo when you were just babes! He would have done the same, after all, and we wished to honour that.”
“I think Sorey might want to rest up a bit,” Mikleo gently interrupted. “We’ve been travelling for a few weeks, and I’m feeling a little worn out myself.”
“Oh, of course, my dears. We’re sorry we keep holding you up!” Medea pulled Mikleo into another warm hug, before she made shooing motions with her hands. “Go on and rest up. We’ll prepare some refreshments that we can all share together later for dinner.”
They excused themselves from the villagers. Mikleo led Sorey up the gentle incline of the path, towards one of the stone houses - its thatched roof was covered with ivy and moss, and there were pots of bright pink flowers placed on both sides of the entrance.
“This was your house once,” Mikleo said softly, pushing the door open. “Rather than letting it fall into a state of disrepair, we thought it was better to use it as a library and study room of sorts. Natalie, Melody and Lawrence have all taken to reading volumes of the Celestial Records here. Most of the classes for the children are conducted here too, since this is where we keep all our books and resources. Even old Taccio comes by to share stories with the children by the fireplace when the nights get too cold - your house has always been more sheltered from the wind drafts than the others.”
Sorey stood at the doorway, glancing over the interior of the house in wordless fascination. He felt a surge of nostalgia, of comfort and longing rising from the depths. He did not remember being in this house before, did not quite recognise the layout of the furniture now, but flashes of detail - the rich, varnished brown of an old, creaking bookcase surrounded by patterned vases and relics; the shelves lining the walls overhead, packed with scrolls and volumes of writing; the rose-and-cream coloured silk sheets tucked neatly over a bed that sat in a cosy alcove - jumped out at him, slivers of fragmented imagery buoyed afloat from the recesses of his mind.
He blinked, trying to clear his mind, awashed with the tingle of memories - Mikleo seated by the window during twilight, the flickering of light and shadows dancing over his face, his lips curved into a soft smile as he read aloud passages from the Celestial Record - and sighed softly, drawing his thoughts back to the present.
“It feels very much like a comfortable home,” he said, taking a tentative step into the room for a better look. He ignored the sudden spike of pain in his right eye - flashes of blue lightning amidst a cruel laughter; a sharp, blazing pain that seared him to the bones, and Gra -!!
Sorey didn't trust himself to be able to keep the discomfort from showing on his face, so he fixed his gaze away from Mikleo’s and over at one of the many bookcases that lined the wall, doing all he could to quell it, to push the roil of emotions back down.
“Who were they talking about back there?” he asked. “The one who would have ‘done the same’ and taken in the abandoned children? It’s a disconcerting feeling, but there’s something about it that just keeps coming back to me now. Was he someone important in Elysia, someone I once knew?”
When he turned to face Mikleo again, his friend’s expression was heavy with grief, much like the one he had worn when he spoke of Dezel. Mikleo closed his eyes and was silent for a long time. Then, he exhaled deeply, as if steeling himself for something and opened his eyes to meet Sorey’s concerned gaze.
“I’ll show you and maybe it’ll help you remember.”
He followed Mikleo back outside to the path that wove through the village until they reached the stone house that stood at the highest point of the slope. This house was relatively bigger than the others, its roof clear of moss and its potted flowers blooming in hues of brilliant blue by the entrance.
“This is where I live now, whenever I’m back in Elysia after an expedition,” Mikleo explained as they entered the house. “But it wasn’t always my house - this was where the lightning seraph, Zenrus, used to live too. He was the seraph elder the villagers spoke of earlier and the one who had kept Elysia protected and safe within his domain. He was also the one who had taken us in and raised us as his own along with the others.” Mikleo offered Sorey a gentle smile, even though his eyes were filled with a deep sadness. “He was our family... our Gramps.”
“Gramps,” Sorey echoed, before he winced, feeling yet another throb in his right eye, and a growing wave of nausea sweeping over him.
When he gazed upon the room once more, the images began to unfold in a flood, and he knew these weren’t merely the dreams that had haunted him - they were slivers, shards of memories coalescing, converging together, reaching out from deep within him. Memories of Artorius’ Throne, of a fearsome battle, of Heldalf and of Gramps, Gramps, we have to save him-
-please, there must be... there must be another way!
The rush of images were biting and raw, and, and, and...
-I won’t forget this pain!
Stricken by the overwhelming surge of emotions, by the sudden clarity of the images and what they finally meant - he could only meet Mikleo’s anxious gaze with horror, his vision now swimming with memories and tears.
“Gramps,” he breathed again, the excruciating ache blooming ever more within his chest. “We... I... no, no... Gramps-”
“Sorey, wait-”
His eyes burning, Sorey turned and fled from the room.
*
He ran blindly, past the bewildered stares and concerned voices of the Elysians, past the towering painted archways and over the stretch of grass. He ran, veering left from the path, brushing past the sparse shrubbery and towards the grove of trees shrouded in mist. Stumbling, struggling through the shifting kaleidoscopic meld of memory and colour, through a section of ruins and down a flight of stone steps until finally, finally - he reached the edge of a cliff face overlooking the layer of clouds. Here, alone as he looked out at the unending skies, at the swirling wisp of clouds, he collapsed into himself.
*
When Mikleo found him, he was still seated upon the soft grass beside a crumbling stone formation, curled into himself with both knees drawn up to his chest, his face buried into the folds of his cloak.
He could sense Mikleo’s hesitation, the momentary silence as his friend wrestled with a decision, before he carefully approached Sorey’s side. Mikleo said nothing as he eased himself onto the grass beside him, his movements tentative and slow, as if seeking an unsaid permission from Sorey to be allowed into this private space of mourning and sorrow.
And for that, Sorey was grateful - he was still folded into himself, but slowly and ever-so-slightly, as the ebb and flow of memories gradually subsided, he felt the tension dissipating from his shoulders. Only a heart-rending ache remained, each beat within his chest weighted with the muted shadow of grief.
“I was afraid of the memories,” he said softly after a long silence, his face still tucked away from view as he leaned against Mikleo’s shoulder. “Of remembering, of knowing the truth and what it meant.”
“Some memories do hurt a lot,” Mikleo said, reaching for Sorey’s hand. He laced their fingers together, squeezing them gently in reassurance. “But as much as I wish otherwise, I suppose it wouldn’t be fair if we only kept the good ones.”
“I wish I had never forgotten them, not even the ones that hurt.” Sorey finally lifted his head, brushing the stray tears from his face with his free hand. He smiled sadly at Mikleo, his eyes ringed red and damp. “How could I have ever forgotten about Gramps? I’d promised that I never would, that I would always carry this pain in my heart, no matter what.”
“And you did - you’ve been recalling the feelings, the emotions, because your heart still remembers, even if the memories didn’t resurface till later.”
“It’s just... I guess what I’ve been afraid of most was not being able to remember. I was afraid the dreams would never amount to anything I could understand, no matter how hard I searched or tried to remember. So I did the only thing I knew - I smiled, and pushed the fear aside.” Sorey sighed, eyes downcast, his voice growing softer. “I thought if I never gave voice to these fears, I could eventually worked my through the uncertainty until I grew used to it. But I guess I’m not so sure anymore.”
He felt Mikleo tensing up beside him then, sensing his friend’s disquiet, the uneasy shift of moods in the atmosphere between them.
“So all this time, you’ve been forcing yourself to the point of almost living a pretense?” His features were still calm, impassive, but Sorey could detect a slight edge to Mikleo’s tone now. “But no one ever said you had to force yourself into something you didn’t want. None of us would have asked that of you, if we knew it would only bring you such misery.”
“What else am I supposed to do in those situations? Everyone looked happy and relieved to have ‘Sorey’ back again, to have the person who had been a very important and dear friend by their side once more.”
Mikleo shook his head, brows furrowed now and Sorey knew he was upset, angered even, perhaps - disappointed, as you knew he’d be - but doing his best not to show it. “So you would rather spend the rest of your days pretending to live a life you don’t wish for, to keep everyone but yourself happy?”
“I wasn’t pretending; I just didn’t want to disappoint them. I don’t want to disappoint you. Because, what if I never remember everything?” Sorey said, hurt and distress painted over his features now. “What if I only ever recall bits and pieces, like facts from a book? What if I only remember these feelings, but can never truly understand or know where they come from, whom they are for? Would I still be the Sorey you all remember and care so much for? I don't know!”
“Why would we not care?” Mikleo asked, incredulous.“We're your friends, we’ve always cared for you - we fought alongside you all those years ago. And we care about the you now. I’ve waited centuries to see you again, to explore the world with you. So even if you didn’t remember anything about the past, I would still care and look out for you just as much, because you’re right here beside me again!”
“Even if it meant I might never remember anyone in Elysia?” Sorey asked sadly. “Or never remembering some of the things we've done together growing up, or during my time as a Shepherd? Even then?”
Mikleo closed his eyes as he angled his body away from Sorey, his features pinched with emotion. “If it means you would be happier this way... then yes. And please, don't force yourself to care for me, for my sake alone. I don't need that kind of pity, and I would never ask anyone - not even you, Sorey - to do so out of a misplaced sense of obligation-”
“But I’ve never pretended to care or love you!” Sorey blurted, the words slipping from him like pebbles of truth.
At the sudden declaration, Mikleo could only gape wordlessly in shock at him, violet eyes searching, discerning.
An uncomfortable tense silence hovered between them as they held each other’s gazes - Sorey making no pretense at hiding his anguish, even as his features held the same tender smile; Mikleo still folded behind his impassive mask, even as his eyes betrayed the swirl of emotions within. After a moment, Sorey finally lowered his gaze, and said, almost in a whisper, “Wilkiphis Luzrev.”
Mikleo blinked, his eyes widening by a fraction. His expression softened, however, when he realised what it meant; he understood then that Sorey had offered his True Name, as a display of vulnerability and heartfelt sincerity, of his trust in the one friend who had waited and believed in him from the very beginning.
“One of Unwavering Heart - my True Name, given as a gift and blessing from Maotelus,” Sorey said softly, eyes still trained upon the grass before him. He brushed a hand over the cloak that had once been the Shepherd’s mantle, patting his chest tentatively. “Maotelus said I may have changed, and that my memories of the past may never fully return, but at heart, I will always be Sorey. That I can always choose to either be the old Sorey or a completely new Sorey, if that is what I desire. And that whatever happens, I should listen to my heart.”
“What does your heart tell you now?” Mikleo asked, gazing at him with such concern and gentleness that Sorey felt his chest would burst from aching.
“I don’t know for certain yet, but I do love you; I think I always have, even when I was still human. And I do care for Lailah, Edna and Zaveid almost as much right now - I want to believe that I have loved every friend that I've met, both in my old life and this new one that I'm rediscovering.”
He turned his gaze to Mikleo once again, helpless and pleading. "So... is it all right for me to listen to my heart, to learn to love and remember you, and everyone else all over again? For me to keep trying to be both the old Sorey and a new Sorey? To keep trying to be your Sorey?"
“Of course it is, silly. As long as this is what you truly wish for yourself in this life, then you’ve found your answer.” Mikleo drew him close to rest his forehead against Sorey’s, both hands raised to cup his face now. “And you are my Sorey - you always will be to me, regardless. This much I know, because I have always loved you.”
Sorey couldn’t help but laugh softly. He curled his arms around Mikleo’s torso, leaning forward to bury his face into his friend’s warm embrace as a thought, a sliver of a memory came to him then.
“I’ll tell you if I remember.”
“Next time?”
“Next time.”
“Was that what you’ve been wanting to say to me, all those centuries ago?” he asked, feeling the tingle of familiarity. He felt the huff that rumbled through Mikleo’s lithe frame, knew that he didn’t even need see the water seraph’s expression to guess that he was already grinning coyly.
“Was it? It must have slipped my mind. It’s been a long time, after all.”
Sorey let out an amused snort. “How convenient.”
“Then let me say it once again for posterity,” Mikleo chuckled as he pulled away, pushing Sorey gently back down onto the grass and silencing him with a soft kiss.
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- I drowned myself in Gramps+Elysia feels writing this. Please drown in them with me.
- The literal meaning of Wilkiphis Luzrev is actually "Resolute-Heart One", but that sounds rather awkward in English. So I switched it around a bit to "One of Unwavering Heart" because it's more poetic that way, LOL. There are a few tumblr posts on the Modern Glenwood/Ancient Tongue language I used as reference to come up with Sorey's True Name. But since A.T. charts have missing ciphers (plus most of the translated names in A.T. don't make sense anyway), I had to take some creative liberties too. TL;DR it's a long nerdy explanation, but If you're interested to know more, you're still welcome to ask.