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Otohan was dead. Imogen wishes she could be happy. Otohan was dead. Nothing but a charred corpse lying at the bottom of the Hells’ portable hole along with the other dead members of the Vanguard. Imogen wishes she could be happy, but it's so hard to be happy when one of their own was taken by her again.
FCG wasn't killed by Otohan, he gave himself up in order for the rest of them to live another day, but it didn’t change the fact that all of the Hells were broken now. Fearne had been cradling what remind of FCG’s head and refused to let go of it even as they set up to rest in a mountainous cavern. Ashton took a good few minutes to smash a large hole in the cavern wall as their titan form inevitably faded, collapsing in a seething pile near their destruction, clutching the coin tightly in their fist.
Imogen stays cuddled next to Laudna. She sits stoically, her heartbeat much clearer as Imogen rests her head against Laudna’s chest. Imogen hasn’t said a word since settling down, hell she doesn’t even think she’s really cried yet. The shock travels through her body in a mix of too many emotions that none of them materialize. She sits in a state of nothing, barely moving except for the twitch of her hands as sparks of magic beg for release.
She rubs her thumb over her hand, hissing slightly as she touches the large open wound across the webbing between her thumb and index finger. She flexes her hand and watches the wound open more, pain ricocheting up her forearm. ‘I should have Letters look at that.’ Imogen immediately shakes her hand quickly and uses the other to lightly tug at her hair. She has accepted that FCG isn’t coming back. His core is gone and there isn’t enough left of them to even attempt a resurrection. She knows she’s upset, devastated even, she knows that her friend isn’t coming back. She’s accepted that, so why doesn’t she feel anything? Why does she keep forgetting that he’s gone?
Imogen quivers slightly and Laudna takes Imogen’s hand into hers, kissing the crown of her head ever so softly. Imogen lets out a shaky exhale as she curls into Laudna more.
They’re all tense.
They’re all broken.
They’re all tired.
Exandria is their destination. They completed their mission. They don’t have to do anything else. They can just finally fucking rest.
Liliana hovers at the mouth of the cave, scanning the storm around them. She insisted that they should rest, that they can’t travel through the storm while they’re all in this state. While they all agreed, Orym, even Ashton to some extent, refused to truly rest, their eyes fixed on Liliana in a mix of mistrust and exhaustion. Fearne had practically collapsed and fell asleep almost immediately, the first use of her new form taking its toll, and Chetney had been whittling away at something, his movements slowing to a halt as he too fell asleep.
Imogen can sense that Laudna refuses to sleep. She doesn’t have to read her mind for that, she can feel it in the way her thin muscles tense and how her breathing and heart refuse to slow to their normal one beat per minute pace. Maybe it's also a mistrust of Liliana, or the refusal to wake up afterwards and remember that their friend is gone, but at this point it's hard to tell.
Imogen feels herself drift away as the surrounding cavern gets darker, the cold feeling of Laudna’s form shifting to dull thrumming heat. She hovers weightlessly in the black expanse, the sound of the storm raging louder even though she can’t see it. She brings her hands to her ears and curls in on herself, feeling the start of tears beginning to fall across her cheeks.
“Leave me alone,” she whimpers, the sound of the storm getting louder, “JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” she screams. She feels her scars begin to burn as her body goes taught, air getting stuck in her throat. She tries to swallow it, but it doesn’t go away. Her tears continue to flow and her heart rate picks up as a sense of dread rushes over her.
Through the black, five glowing, crimson forms encircle her in a nearly dance-like way. There is no definition to their bodies, just the glow and a vague shape, but Imogen immediately recognizes them. She tries to move, straining any amount of energy she has left, but she can't. She stays trapped by the Weave-Mind, her muscles aching as she keeps trying and failing to move.
One of the forms hovers closer to her, cocking its head as it takes in the state she is in. Imogen wills everything to attack. A psychic lance, a bolt of lightning, hell even just a telekinetic shove, anything to keep them away. The form just leans in closer, a feeling of enjoyment emanating from it as it watches Imogen struggle. They don’t say anything, any of them, they just watch the tears trail down Imogen’s face in some form of fucked up delight.
The one closest to Imogen lifts its hand towards her, long crimson claws extending from their old and withered hand. Imogen tightly squeezes her eyes shut as a strong vibration fills her head, her tears flowing faster. A quick moving and bright flash of golden light collides with the one mystic, pushing it away from Imogen. She immediately feels her body loosen as she watches a small light blue mote strike against each member of the Weave-Mind, their forms vanishing with each hit.
When the last of the Weave-Mind vanishes, the little mote slowly drifts towards Imogen, hovering in front of her and emanating a soothing feeling that cools down the heat around her. Imogen lifts her hands up towards it, cupping it gently in her hands. The mote begins to brighten as the outline of a golden form encompasses it. A large coat and big bright blue eyes, a familiar wheel, and two golden hands holding hers. There is no denying who’s in front of her.
“Letters!” Imogen shouts, wrapping her arms around FCG’s form as tight as she can. She feels him. He’s here. It was a shared dream. This was all just a shared dream. Just a really bad shared dream. FCG hugs her in return, resting his little head on her shoulder. Imogen just sobs, letting the tears flow in a wave of relief and happiness as the two of them land in a soft field of grass and flowers.
Imogen releases from the hug and holds the sides of his face, taking in the ethereal dream-like glow of his eyes and spiral patterning. “You’re alright.” she whispers. FCG nods, holding onto her hands and removing them from his face so they are left in front of the two of them. Despite his lack of expressions, she can tell that he is smiling at her in return.
FCG begins to turn and looks up away from her. Imogen follows his gaze and stares wide eyed in a state of confusion and horror. The storm is there. Just sitting there. It hovers softly like mist, with slow cracks of lightning flashing within it, its sound muffled to almost nothing. Imogen can’t help but look at it in awe, its familiar fury quelled to a soft rumble.
She feels FCG’s hand leave her and realization finally hits her, “No… No, no, no, no, no! Letters no! Please!” she sobs out, holding on tightly to her friend's arm. FCG turns back around to face her, pausing his movements, “Please, tell me this is just a shared dream. Th-that when I wake up you’ll be there just casting the spell. That you’re not- you’re not-”
FCG rolls a little closer to her, his eyes glowing white, the same way they did before he took out Otohan. Imogen hiccups as her vision becomes blurry, “P-please. Please don’t leave.” FCG looks down at Imogen’s hand, the large wound glowing a dull red in the dreamspace. He covers her hand with his own and a familiar golden glow fills their small space. When he removes his hands the wound is gone. Imogen can’t help but giggle through her sobs, rubbing her hand as she looks back to FCG.
As he starts to turn again, Imogen quickly brings him in for one last hug, feeling the energy of his body thrum as he returns it. They separate again and he slowly wheels towards the storm, his wheel gliding effortlessly through the grass. His hand falls away from Imogen’s, the empty feeling pulling another sob from her. Before he enters the storm, FCG looks back towards her. Imogen smiles through her tears.
“Goodbye, Letters.”
He nods, turns, and enters the storm.
Imogen is left alone, staring up at the calm storm. She lets the tears fall and land on the flowers below, letting the moment wash over her.
“Darling?” she hears faintly.
Imogen feels herself wake gently. A rare occurrence as of late.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Laudna asks her. Imogen rubs her face and feels tears. She removes her hand and lightly gasps as she looks at it. The wound on her hand is gone. She flexes her hand and feels no pain. Imogen doesn’t answer, she starts to sob, and those sobs become louder. “Oh, Imogen.” Laudna tightly wraps Imogen in a hug. Imogen sobs into her shoulder, hiccuping every so often as she lets out all of those confused emotions. Laudna nuzzles into her hair and rubs her back, shushing gently as she does her best to quell the tears.
FCG is gone. He’s not coming back. It hurts so fucking much to truly acknowlege that.
‘I miss him, Laudna.’ she says to her mentally, ‘I miss him so much.’
‘I do too, Darling. I do too.’
Imogen feels Laudna’s form slightly shake. She’s crying too.
It's okay to hurt. It’s always going to hurt. Even years later, it will still hurt to remember, but at least she got to say goodbye.