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Philip sat, sits, will sit with his back to the door.
He buried his face in his hands. He felt that there should’ve been tears streaming from his eyes and down his cheeks, but there weren’t.
His mind is screaming at him from behind his eyes; a million pain receptors exploding in outbursts of dizzying color that he isn’t sure are side effects of his frivolous and dangerous use of magic or perhaps the clashing emotions that are side effects of something else not entirely unrelated.
He will fold even further into himself, willing the pain to stop. He will not look at the portal.
He can not, does not, will not trust himself.
Could he even return home like… this? With wild magic running through his veins, magic that was not meant for him; was never meant for anyone?!
Nothing moves. Not here. Not now.
He will never be able to go home. It won’t happen. He is not even sure if he could, without collapsing and screaming and the Titan knows what else.
He thinks he deserves this. Humans have always been foolish, and now their mistakes are finally catching up with them, starting with him.
He wondered if he was even human anymore. He certainly wasn’t a demon or even a witch. A light brush against his freshly scarred face sends him hissing and reeling backward, body contorting out of his control for a moment before leaving him behind once again, drowning in a sea of ink and ash.
I can’t keep this up, he will think. I’ll lose eventually. I’ll hurt them again. He considers death for a moment, but remembers the spear. Right through him, and here he is, perfectly fine. Well, he wasn’t really fine. But the spear itself wasn’t what caused the damage.
Unless they have a spell that can- he stops that train of thought abruptly. He will not go crawling back to them, begging for death. He tried to convince himself that was because he was afraid of hurting them again, but the dried-out anger and stubborn pride in him told a different story.
Then all I can do is destroy it. I can’t leave it anywhere I might be able to find it later.
But just the thought made everything hurt all over again, and he screamed into the cold, empty night.
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?! he roared. NO ONE DESERVES THIS!!
He barely flinched as an inhuman sound echoed back at him from all directions.
The response is a quiet rustling in the trees. Storm clouds, fast approaching on the horizon, obscure the moon.
The feeling of consuming the palisman’s essence still lingers in the back of his throat. Along with it comes North’s horrified expression; Kirani’s shocked refusal to believe or fully process the betrayal; and Brooke’s quiet acceptance. He isn’t sure which reaction is worse, but the memory of the loud wooden SNAP and the satisfaction it brings him are almost sickening.
He will finally cave in under the clashing emotions and turn around to face the still-open portal door.
“I’m sorry,” he will say to everyone. “I can’t go back.”
Belos closed, closes, will close his fist around the portal key, and the rest was, is, will be history.