stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires
He hadn't known what to expect of the sketchbook, but somehow, it was both precisely what he had thought and nothing at all like it. The sprawled script, the little scenes spread out across the page, telling a story he hadn't been there for: loosely intertwined, they seemed to have been put down on paper much in the same way that thoughts came and went. Rory couldn't read any of the notes (much less comprehend the miracle of why they shared the same language, this stranger from another world and he), but he recognized the scenes. They were well-drawn and precise, bits of Rory's world put down in charcoal on a page.
He guessed they were bits of Remi's world now, too. Unless they found some way to simply appear in another world again, this was where they were, for better or for worse. The bubble: their wall, their horizon, the borders of their existence. Nothing beyond it but memory and rumor and dreams. Surely whatever was out there had evolved beyond what it had once been.
Then Remi disclosed that yet another soul had died, and Rory looked away with a sad frown. He wondered who she had been, and what she had been doing—trying to prove something? Or just looking for a better life, whatever that was? Gods knew he had thought of it too, when times were lean and others cruel, or things simply rough. And there had been a lot of that; not just in his life, but in everyone's.
"Yeah," he said quietly, staring towards the barrier. Between it and the spire demon, how many had died trying to solve the mystery? "That's what happens. I don't think being an Ascended would help," he added after a moment, thinking about Elyna and her display of her teeth. He still hadn't figured out how that worked either, just like the language.
Small blessings. Old gods. Stranger things had happened.
He glanced back to Remi, finding a blush on the other man's cheeks, but failing to find a reason why. Was it something that had been said? Something about Isla, maybe? Maybe he fancied her. Wouldn't be surprising; Isla was very fancy-able. Still, with the rather morose subject, it seemed a weird reaction, so, still frowning, he asked gently, "What's wrong?".
He guessed they were bits of Remi's world now, too. Unless they found some way to simply appear in another world again, this was where they were, for better or for worse. The bubble: their wall, their horizon, the borders of their existence. Nothing beyond it but memory and rumor and dreams. Surely whatever was out there had evolved beyond what it had once been.
Then Remi disclosed that yet another soul had died, and Rory looked away with a sad frown. He wondered who she had been, and what she had been doing—trying to prove something? Or just looking for a better life, whatever that was? Gods knew he had thought of it too, when times were lean and others cruel, or things simply rough. And there had been a lot of that; not just in his life, but in everyone's.
"Yeah," he said quietly, staring towards the barrier. Between it and the spire demon, how many had died trying to solve the mystery? "That's what happens. I don't think being an Ascended would help," he added after a moment, thinking about Elyna and her display of her teeth. He still hadn't figured out how that worked either, just like the language.
Small blessings. Old gods. Stranger things had happened.
He glanced back to Remi, finding a blush on the other man's cheeks, but failing to find a reason why. Was it something that had been said? Something about Isla, maybe? Maybe he fancied her. Wouldn't be surprising; Isla was very fancy-able. Still, with the rather morose subject, it seemed a weird reaction, so, still frowning, he asked gently, "What's wrong?".
