22 → I saw my path lie in levels of deep shadow

[crimson_seeker]

[The following appears in the morning, barely past dawn. Someone is drawing on this page, in careful dashes and swirls of ink: an image of a curled-up dragon emerges. The margin is spotted with ink by the time he's done.]

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[getsome_sleep]

[It's only a little while later that Huo comes out to the porch, newly woken, hair still loose, but alert and aware. Rising early, looking through the journal is the first thing he does every morning, and the moment he sees, he understands.

He had watched for weeks now, silent weeks, and seen the smallest of signs, and suspected, feared. But he had not spoken, on the off-chance, the treasured hope that he was wrong. He could be wrong. And to frighten Hawk needlessly would have been far beyond the scope of cruelty.

He had never in his life so dearly wished to be wrong.

And now, all he can do is kneel down next to Hawk; to cautiously, gently reach out to place a hand on his back, just enough contact to reassure of contact. He cannot comprehend what Hawk has lost; but he is there to silently offer all that can be offered, what closeness and comfort that one simple human can give another.]

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[crimson_seeker]

[The consolation is that he knew. He's had a month to slowly learn the truth. The touch of the white dragon has ebbed away and left him as he was, one day, in a time beyond memory: a mortal man somewhere between twenty and thirty winters of age.

He straightens from his hunched posture, sitting on the topmost step, leaning slightly into the touch and into Huo's presence. There are cautious words of comfort and offers of company scrawled across the journal page; he can't quite accept any of them yet. But he can't turn away from Huo any more than from this truth. The dragon's sign has vanished from his face; he can no longer pull the gem into his hand. His dreams are his own.]

It's... done now, then. Truly done. And the strangest thing still is that I live.

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[getsome_sleep]

Is it truly so strange?

[Huo's voice is quiet. His hand slowly rubs up and down Hawk's back. In the flesh, his brother feels the same - it is a the same human body that once bore heavenly fire within it. Now all that it bears is Hawk. But Hawk is still there. Did you foresee this somehow, without knowing it? he fleetingly wonders. When I spoke words of brotherhood to the man, not the heavenly being. Did a part of you know that one day, they will hold as they were spoken?

The task may be done. Hawk is not.]

A human life was taken from you - now, it is given back. Heaven knows, that is only right.

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[crimson_seeker]

[Hawk's head dips, and he's still and silent for a moment before answering. Huo's touch is a comfort and a reminder, as always; he lets it be. How to explain? He doesn't remember his death, other than the feeling of rightness and liberation that laced his first birth dream. That memory is a year old now, growing more distant by the day.]

I... yeah. It is. Not sure I can put it into words.

[Thank the faraway gods, he thinks, for Huo's patience right now. He has been letting go, piece by painful piece, for all of that year he's been in Edensphere, first unwitting, then knowing, better and better, what he's doing. It is a long way to walk, it seems.]

And I'm not certain that it's a bad sort of strange. Just... new. I suppose I'll find out. Where to go now.

[offline]

[getsome_sleep]

[Indeed, patience is one of Huo's merits; and he understands how some things can refuse words, can be greater, or stranger than what words were formed to deal with.

They had both been on their journeys for some time now. Let each step have the time it is due.]

You needn't go so soon, [He says very quietly.] This is a new place, indeed - linger a while. [Grieve if you need, his voice says without words.] Forget the road ahead. Rest.

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[crimson_seeker]

[Hawk tilts his head, scooting back a little to see Huo's face properly. Perhaps it's simply the softness of his friend's tone that trips some faint sense of concern. There is a knot of sorrow in his chest, but it is smooth rather than thorny; it will unravel in time. He knew what was coming.]

I didn't mean it literally, you know. The part about where to head.

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[getsome_sleep]

I know. [His voice is softer yet. The last thing that Hawk needs now is to be concerned for him, he knows; not another obstacle in a road long already. But some fears are hard to let go of, some thorns lodged deeply in old, thick knots.]

All that I mean to say is... that not all must be thought of as a road. You have a place here. I hope for nothing more than to see you content in it.

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[crimson_seeker]

I am. [The words are low, but the response is immediate. Hawk doesn't need to think about it.] I may wish the world didn't teeter quite so much, but I know where I am. That's not something you need to worry about.

[Even though plenty of other things are. But he suspects the subdued note in Huo's voice is not due to such greater concerns.]

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[getsome_sleep]

[Even with the speed of the answer, he listens for undertones, listens - and suddenly feels a fool. What do they have, if not trust? If not this mutual awareness of change, wonder at change, and the knowledge of what each of them means to the other? Hawk had told him that he wanted to live.

He would have told him, had that want changed.

His chest feels physically lighter. Not happiness, no, but a kind sort of finality, perhaps even a sort to give him insight into what Hack might be feeling.]

Then I will not, [he says, and means it.] As worries go, the world is enough. Yet - that, too, may sometimes be put aside.

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[crimson_seeker]

[Hawk leans forward and lifts his chin, watching the still-dark sky in the west, where the forest gives way to meadow all the way to the edge of the island.]

What about the world, though? [He lets his voice be light.] I know this is the world you wish to have, but indulge me a moment, would you? If you could go elsewhere--not just back, but to the places we all come from? Do you think you could?

[It's a frank question, but not a challenge. Hawk doesn't think he'll ever be satisfied staying entirely in one place; he's also certain many of the places the residents of Edensphere hail from would prove inhospitable at best to him.]

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[getsome_sleep]

[It is a frank question, and one that takes Huo by surprise - itself something of a feat. He doesn't always have answers, perhaps, but few are the questions that he had never contemplated. But this one makes him linger for long minutes - and not because he does not know the answer, but because, he is equally surprised to realize, he knows it very well.]

I could, and would, [he answers at last.] Not unconditionally, but were I able, I would go see your world with its dragons, and a-Stellaris' world where they travel between suns, and see if I might find a-Sumi again in her world - I would do all this.

[He caught Hawk's eyes then.] But not unconditionally. [And the condition, he thought, was obvious.]

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[crimson_seeker]

[Hawk listens with a sort of wary interest, but his knit brows ease from their frown as Huo speaks.]

I... glimpsed her world once. Stellaris's, I mean. I'm not sure that I could fathom it properly, but if it was to visit, perhaps I'd go. To walk between the stars. [A small, wistful laugh rises to his lips.] And... the city where Sumi's from was in the Wilderness once, if the others from her world had it right.

I mean the real places, though. Not the effigies Edensphere creates.

[He smiles back at Huo, though the expression is unusually subdued.] I said I'd try not to wander too far.

[offline]

[getsome_sleep]

You have had a terrible influence on me, [Huo returns with a similarly quiet smile. He has never thought of himself as a great wanderer before, and yet this feels as right as anything ever has.]

The power exists, [his voice is stronger suddenly - this is a different voice, the voice of the quick and resolute planner that had directed them when they fought Hawk's other self, and dealt with Orca when he was in bonds,] to travel between worlds. Our presence here is proof. Since it exists, it can be harnessed. When a thing is possible, doing it is only a matter of effort and time.

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[crimson_seeker]

[And Hawk has to keep smiling, hearing Huo shift suddenly into a mood that is all change and possibility, meeting a challenge head-on.]

If you start a scholarly investigation into the business of walking between worlds, xíandì, I refuse to blame my terrible influence. [For once the familial title is more fond than serious, for laughter twinkles in Hawk's eye. It fades, though, as he moves on to a graver topic again.]

I'm just... I don't quite know what. Casting light into dark best as I can. I'll fight for this place. But if it is to go, and there's a chance for us to leave... then I'd take it. Perhaps no matter where it took me.

[offline]

[getsome_sleep]

Can one be faulted for taking wanderlust to its logical conclusion? [There is an answering humorous spark in his eyes - yes, they understand each other. And the challenge being spoken, it isn't one that he can resist. A fantasy, perhaps... but then, it sometimes seems that all their lives are so.]

No matter where... [At first the echo is wistful, moved by hope, but then something else occurs to him. He looks at Hawk, a look without demand or expectation - an open look.] Even to war, to a world burning?

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[crimson_seeker]

[The weight of a sleepless night has settled on Hawk, cloudy and blurring, but it fades now as he wills himself to sharpen at Huo's question. He can sleep later, in a while.

I said I'd go with you, too. The thought is a pinnacle.]

I'll fight, but I wouldn't die with this place. There's war in my world, and in yours, but there's at least the chance at life. And... [It is a staggering idea and a simple truth at once.] I could go with you, like this, I gather. [He draws his knees in, looks down at his palm, as if that made his point for him. The gem is gone; there's nothing left in him but a mortal life.]