Chapter Text
It’s only the shadow of the tree branches that makes the blue glow visible in the unforgiving light that pours from the sky. The petals of the flowers are stirred up as the scions trudge back to Fanow with their recovered comrade.
The warrior of light lingers. It seems to be a habit of his. Is he a sole, ineffective guard against Emet-selch's pursuit? Or perhaps he’s a captive audience.
“What a touching reunion that was. It fair brought a tear to the eye." Emet-selch wipes the feigned tear away, then turns to meet the adventurer's hard eyes and shrugs. "But as we both know such touching moments are nothing if not… momentary. Before long they will remember their many differences, and return to squabbling."
"And?"
Emet-selch frowns at the warrior of light.
"And?" Emet-selch's voice lilts incredulously.
He shrugs, stares back at him, seven fourteenths, half of a person exactly. The light of the forest floor doesn’t reach him, but it doesn’t matter- the soul that shines within him is the same, unmistakable blue as the flowers, drowning in the warden’s light like the glow of the petals continually smothered under the sky.
The griffins of Ala Mhigo. Lahabrea’s phoenix, Mitron’s hydrozoans. Of all the concepts to spring into life on these sundered worlds…
“We’re coworkers now. Congratulations, by the way.”
Azem offers him a flower.
The adventurer stands on them. “They argue.” Staring at Emet-selch from under the brim of a hat that doesn’t hide his face quite as well as a mask and hood. “So what? They’re trying to stop the end of the world.”
He ends this with a challenging look aimed at Emet-Selch. Well, world-ender? He seems to ask, lapsing back into his petulant silence.
“We Ascians do what we do for the greater good. For the rejoining.” Circular. It’s all circular. It wears at him, the hope that maybe this time, this time, he can make him understand.
Our people are dying in the streets!
“And you’d end whole worlds to do it.” He mirrors Emet-selch’s flippant tone, but his voice is too low. He turns away from Emet-selch, stares into the forest, shaded by his hat brim, illuminated from within.
And you’ll kill another half of them!
Emet-selch tsks. “Not whole worlds, just fragments.”
Seven-fourteenths.
Better half than all!
The perfume of the flowers is getting to his head. “I grow tired of these arguments. If you would kindly refrain from retorting and return to your customary brooding silence, I will take it as thanks for rescuing your companion and leave it as that. Now, you mustn't keep your friends waiting.”
He rolls his eyes- something Hades could never see Azem do- and begins to trudge away.
It strains his eyes, the cloying light. It makes it hard to tell the flow of the lifestream from his surroundings, mixes them up, spears them through with over-exposed static. He can’t...
“A last question,” He calls.
The adventurer pauses.
“What color… are these flowers?” The reluctance in his voice unspools and rewinds itself into a practiced drawl.
He turns around slowly, he answers slowly, studying Emet-selch through narrowed eyes. “Blue.”
There’s a flower in Hades hand, though he can’t remember picking it up. Maybe he pulled it out of his sleeve. He’d never asked- “Blue. Are they possibly… your favorite color?”
“...No.”
Hades spins the flower, watching the petals blur to solid blue like a pinwheel.
“Why are you asking that?”
Emet-selch sighs through his nose and tosses the flower away.
“I suppose any attempt to make conversation beyond verbally attacking me would be beyond you.” He shakes his head ruefully, then shoots a cutting glare at the Warrior of Light. “Go on then, go. Leave me alone. I’m sorry I even tried.”
“You were the-” He cuts himself off, massaging the bridge of his nose. Evidently to himself, he mutters, “Whatever.”
He trudges off, always leaving. Hades turns back to the flowers. What color are they? Blue. It's hard to tell if they work- he’s only ever seen the one color.