(no subject)
The O.Z was saved. The Witch, vanquished, and the royal family reunited. They'd watched the two suns reemerge from behind the moons after the dreaded eclipse, together, two groups linked together by one, extraordinary young woman. The 'heroes'. The 'saviours' of the O.Z. The prodigal daughter and her rag-tag team of mismatched metaphorical relatives-in-arms. Uncles, father figures, mentors... Tutor was nowhere to be seen, but right that moment, no one seemed to spare one single thought to what had happened to everyone else. To the grunts on ground level, to the rebels and the minions, and the lives - innocent and not - that had been destroyed forever.
For just one moment, they could all forget the hard work ahead of them.
Cain, however, was far too preoccupied with his past to spare so much as one thought to the future. Despite the warmth of the suns, all he could think about was how big his boy was now, and how many years he had lost for nothing. Because he was careless. Because, despite the dangers he faced every single day, he and his wife never hesitated to open up their home to perfect strangers and friends alike. They had gotten careless, or perhaps they had simply failed to see the escalating darkness, spreading across the land.
Maybe they'd simply wanted to believe things weren't as bad as they'd feared.
He lowered his eyes to the pale, matted ring on his finger; clenched his fist, and looked down the line of his friends - stacked up and standing in line as if to receive honors, and for what?
"I need to find Jeb," he told Raw, and silently made himself scarce. Behind him, Raw surreptitiously closed the gap and continued watching the city on the hill, illuminated as were this its glory days.
He needed to find Jeb, his son, and make sure he was all right down there on the ground, where chaos still ruled, and the Witch's men were still fighting the Resistance.
He had no idea where to go from there.
For just one moment, they could all forget the hard work ahead of them.
Cain, however, was far too preoccupied with his past to spare so much as one thought to the future. Despite the warmth of the suns, all he could think about was how big his boy was now, and how many years he had lost for nothing. Because he was careless. Because, despite the dangers he faced every single day, he and his wife never hesitated to open up their home to perfect strangers and friends alike. They had gotten careless, or perhaps they had simply failed to see the escalating darkness, spreading across the land.
Maybe they'd simply wanted to believe things weren't as bad as they'd feared.
He lowered his eyes to the pale, matted ring on his finger; clenched his fist, and looked down the line of his friends - stacked up and standing in line as if to receive honors, and for what?
"I need to find Jeb," he told Raw, and silently made himself scarce. Behind him, Raw surreptitiously closed the gap and continued watching the city on the hill, illuminated as were this its glory days.
He needed to find Jeb, his son, and make sure he was all right down there on the ground, where chaos still ruled, and the Witch's men were still fighting the Resistance.
He had no idea where to go from there.