An opportunity had finally risen to see him fully in his element. So relaxed and seemingly nonchalant in the face of battle. He looked at his enemies, grinning from ear to ear, each hit of his feeling personal, as well as satisfactory. For every scar, a new body laid on the ground, mutilated to the point of no recognition, never losing his momentum. The face his enemies saw was not the one that most recognize Ethys for. The serious and cold faced Viera was no longer there - replaced by someone only his brother could even remotely recognize as his own - a maniacal murderer who wasted not even a moment to cause further chaos and bloodshed. Each time he felt the drop of blood on his face, it fueled him to charge and strike even harder than before. He knew that this was it, this was his freedom, and he rejoiced in it.
But that would only last for so long before his mind would begin to go astray. As he stood on the pile of disembodied flesh of those who dared threaten or attempt to hurt him or his brother, all the blood, fire and ash surrounding him, it was as if he was back in Garlemald again, the bodies resembling the soldiers that once had control over them both, all which had died by his hand. The more he looked around the more he would remember. One memory after another, suddenly the calm and steady warrior was losing his balance, his headaches eating at him once again, making him unable to see anything but black for a while.
Flashes of all too familiar imagery of his and his brother’s shared past would begin to resurface in his mind and, like a sudden influx of polarizing thoughts that he could neither control or fight, he would then be filled with…Emotion.
Laughter.
Uncontrollable laughter. How quickly his behavior changed. The pure joy he felt seeing them all rounded up on the ground and knowing that not even a singular person would be able to mourn them, he could almost make himself scream at the top of his lungs from how difficult it was to contain his cackles - and yet it was accompanied by so much sorrow.
Hearing distorted screams and cries of Neo in his head, the Garleans' mocking chuckles next to their nauseating machinery that he so feared, and even his own voice - it was no longer recognizable what the man was feeling, tears falling on the ground as he kept laughing endlessly. Caught in a fit of mania, Ethys could barely hold it together as his emotions devoured him mercilessly.
"It's not enough", he thought to himself. It never was. "Garlemald will burn", but no matter how many people die, Garlean or not, it never truly fulfilled him and always left him starving and aching for more.
After taking so many lives of those who stood against him and his brother and taking them all out with such ease no less, it's almost as if the comedy was writing itself once he began stumbling due to… What, exactly?
Ethys, a Viera powerful enough to squash a person’s head with just his bare hand, is losing to… Feelings…? Hysterical, yet infuriating.
● ● ●
His thoughts would then shift towards Neo - his anger turning to regret, wishing that he could have done better for his brother, but obeying the Garleans was not in his nature. All he needed was to see Neo’s eyes overwhelmed with tears and he would be reminded that he had one reason to still be alive, to not be tamed. Perhaps that spark was the reason they managed to escape, but Ethys never saw it that way. No, he always saw himself as a problem Neo had to solve - A failure of a brother, as he couldn’t even protect him as much as he hoped to do.
And so, even memories that gave him a satisfactory answer back then were not good enough anymore. The little bit of hope in him was slowly seeping out and escaping, leaving him with hatred in his heart.
With each passing moment the thoughts would become more devoid of any sense of rationality. He would even find himself regretting his own birth, as obscure as that thought may be. He would keep digging further and further, searching for any solution or at least a conclusion to his thoughts, anything at all that would help him soothe his mind knowing that the choice he would make would be one that both he and Neo would be okay with, no matter how horrible or difficult. Even if it was his own death, he just wanted to know. Yet the answer never came, and he was stuck circling around the same memories, thoughts and feelings; and then, once again, he began to tremble the same way he did back when the two of them were still prisoners. His smile still accompanied him faintly, but what Ethys felt was far from anything resembling even a hint of happiness.
His eyes stared blankly at the ground, his body immovable - but just before he would lose himself completely, Neo would arrive not a moment too late, ready to do what he always did - stop his little brother’s head from hurting him any further.
“It is enough, it is okay. Focus on my heartbeat, I’m here. I’m here.”
He heard his brother's soft whispers, repeating over and over again, and slowly, the gloom exited his mind enough to acknowledge Neo's presence, his hatred for the world replaced with his love for his older brother, the one he cherished so dearly. His words are comforting, his touch so loving, reminding him of the times when he was so small, Neo often chose to hold him in his arms. All of it made him feel so overwhelmed that he simply could not stand anymore and let himself fall into his brother’s arms - let himself feel, his sobs and weeps reminiscent of those he made when he was just a child. As he continued to tremble, Neo spared no moment to continue calming him down, occasionally petting his head, each of his motions so gentle and caring, as he knew very well what Ethys was going through.
Finally, as he began to gain some sense and control over his body again, Ethys lifted his arms to hug his brother, and after some moments passed, he was able to gather enough strength to say something he always wanted him to hear. A simple phrase, one that Neo would always remember:
"Thank you, and I’m sorry."
