@archaeoelysian || from here || Black Rose Timetravel Azem
A glance, a small smile, met with eyes uncovered, no mask in sight, concern and worry plain and yet the faintest glimmer of hope therein, in a gaze they had both grown used to. A gaze that would not be returned, if Azem eyes were to meet those of the Warrior of Light, and one that would not be seen for some time, not only because of their circumstances, but because Azem would need to keep their involvement to the shadows, hide their face behind a mask.
Eyes closed, then, Azem awaited, feeling the magic being worked through the Tower, feeling aether condense and shape the laws of reality itself to bridge the Source and the First, and bring to them a hero. One that could do what Azem could not, and had not been able to.
One that would not fall, where Azem had fallen. They’d ensure fate was not repeated. The Warrior of Light would not feel the blood of so many in their hands, nor would they feel the need to Ascend and doom the world. They would not make Azem’s mistakes.
A breath, a moment, a song of aether all around them, and then quiet and silence and naught but the weight of what had not happened. The Warrior was not there. Astraeus was not there, and yet someone else was.
Azem remembered the worry, on another life. How they had hoped things would be different. Yet as they opened their eyes, as they set a bronze gaze upon the Exarch, then softly, gently, smiled. Shook their head. Rested a hand over flesh, taking a step forward.
“We knew it might not be a success, the very first time.” They spoke. “What we are attempting is complex. If a soul has been summoned, if the Rift has been breached, we know it can be done, and so we need only adjust.” They added, tone gentle. “There is a lost soul we must now meet, however. Lest you need a breath, of course, then I will bring them here.” They offered.
They could not deny they felt restless, nevertheless. They could only offer aether, for they could not even fight the Lightwardens themselves. And it pained them, to be able to do so little for the world that was now a home.
“You have not failed me, Raha.” They whispered, final and soft.
If anything, Azem had failed them all first.
More than the exhaustion felt, he felt the disappointment course through his body -- ‘twas directed towards himself, no less, for he was the one to claim it possible, the one who announced he could summon the Warrior of Light from the Source to help with what had befallen this star. Centuries after centuries did he work towards one goal, a heavy burden he had noone to share with for a long while, a duty he knew he could not fail no matter what. Yet he had failed them -- dark thoughts were slowly tugging at his mind, easier when his mind and body was exhausted; his gaze cast down as the weakness he hid so well started to surface.
‘Twas the soft voice, the familarity of the kind soul next to him which kept him grounded and his thoughts at bay. And he needed a moment to not lose hope once more ( ‘twas so easy, truly, when all he did was fight for his belief and push forward no matter what ); a deep breath taken in ere crimson met with bronze; the smallest of smile on his lips. “Thank you.” For believing in me ... for beind by my side. Words he did not speak, yet the sincerity was there all the same.
“But you are right -- I -- will need some time to recover and replenish the energy, but I promise I will get it right, Azem. We will see this through and have the Warrior of Light here.” A short pause. In all these years of their companionship, he knew well how difficult it had been for the other, and while at first ‘twas difficult to trust them, he believed to know the other well enough now to understand their feelings, and their own struggles. “We will make it right again.” He assured them.
“Come. We have some way to travel - I only hope that our friend will be alright ‘till our arrival.” Lakeland was, fortunately, not too far off to the Crystarium, still, they had best hurry to meet their new friend.