hugtopia_logs | those crystal blues

Here.

[ She moves the sword closer, tipping it parallel to the ground beside them, so that if he wishes, he might lift his hand to wave at the flames. If he does, he’ll feel its heat, the potential that it could— or should— be dangerous to him, but it won’t burn him. ]

It’s… not real fire, actually. Water doesn’t effect it. It’s Mythra, and the crystal’s power, dimmed down enough though the seal that it behaves like fire.

[ Another construct, in a sense, to mimic what fire is like, to make it seem like nothing more than normal flames. ]

That doesn’t mean it can’t ignite actual fires when coming into contact with fuel, though.

Ah...

[He trusts her wholeheartedly, showing no hesitation as he reaches out and brushes his fingers through the fire burning around the edge of the sword. True to her word, it's warm but not dangerous, and he feels no pain from the contact. He can't help letting his hand linger there, fascinated and loving the way the licks of fire weave harmlessly between his fingers. It isn't even heating up the ring.]

It's pretty... [The feeling is similar yet different from his own elemental energy; maybe that's what makes it so delightful, getting to touch it like this without having to pour so much focus into controlling it.] Is this why you kept it hidden?

I think many things about it would have brought too much attention. [ Whether that the flames could not hurt its wielder, that it could simply be called into hand from nothing on her part, that the crystal upon it is in the same shape of her own, or that the flames were of a mysterious quality.

In retrospect, a sword or abilities like that do not seem too outlandish in a realm that summons people from different worlds, but she had wished for as little attention as possible. She hadn't even called any of her fire forth until it was in his presence, and only after a year had passed. ...Not that there had been many uses for flames or her sword. ]

...But. [ She sighs. She can forgive her past self for being so fearful-- but not so foolish as for it to take two of his near-death experiences for her to offer him this protection in the form of her crystal. This should have been done months ago.

Besides these thoughts, she smiles. She's come this far. ] I don't think it needs to be hidden anymore. [ It's pretty, he says, and it's as if he's complimenting her. Maybe if he thinks it's pretty, not something to be feared, then...
Others might, too. She's ready to take that chance. ] I want you to be able to use it, even if you might not need it... Just like how I have your magic, too.

Mm... I don't think so, either. But I don't blame you for keeping it to yourself.

[She's had to live with this fear, alone, for years, even if she was asleep for most of it as far as he knows. For someone like him, who's always been free to use his magic as he wishes, who'd been expected to carry it proudly (even if his control or abilities were lacking), it's hard to fathom having to hide. There'd been moments during his journey where he'd had to conceal his identity, but not in combat, not to the detriment of himself or those around him. It had given him away to many over time, the sole possessor of magic in a world devoid of it, besides the Six and the bloodline of the Oracle. People could have gone after him, if they wanted to. The Imperials had, when his presence was noticed by those flying overhead. But he'd been free with it, able to save and be saved by it when the need was there. She didn't have that.

He wants her to have that freedom now, if possible, and if that's what comes out of all of this, then in at least one aspect it'll have been worth all the trouble.]

You know... Lucian weapons are built to channel the elements. They've got crystals on them that absorb and store 'em, you can channel that power into how you fight. Your sword... I bet it'll feel like home.

[Even if it's not real fire, even if it's not his magic. It's hers, and she's family. Anything from her is bound to feel like home, anyway.]

[ That he would call an aspect of herself home causes her expression to open, surprised at the parallel he draws. Or more accurately, astonished that she hadn't thought of something similar herself, before. ] Home...

[ He and his magic is home to her, too, because he's become home. Perhaps he doesn't mean it in this exact same way, but the epiphany is comforting. ]

...Is... [ She finds her voice again, continuing after a few tolls of the bell sound within Elysium. ] something you can use my power for, too. [ She rests her hand upon his crystal, but allows the sword to hover near him for as long as he'd like to run his fingers through its flames. ] Whenever you are lost [ She emphasizes the word. Not just lost, location-wise, but lost within his memories, his dreams, his heart. ] ...you can use it, to find your way back.

Back to here, back to the present.

[His head tilts at that, confused and curious (hopeful, more like), because he doesn't know exactly what she's saying, but the potential is enough of a tease that he wants it. He's been feeling lost a lot lately, and while it helps to have her around to guide him back, they aren't always together, and he doesn't want them to end up too codependent. Especially not just for his sake, to the detriment of both of their independence.]

What... do you mean?

When things feel overwhelming... [ She tries again, doing her best to explain. Slow at first, then becoming more reassured as she speaks. This is the second time he's had a near-death experience, and she's lucky to have been there to help both times. That isn't to say she'll always be there for him, or always be there to help him, either.

But she's talking more than physical danger. She knows he has his own share of hardships and traumas, haunts that plague him. He's getting more help than he has ever has had before, but it's a journey. ] When everything feels worse than it is, or when one feels alone, or it's too dark to see anyone or anything else...

[ She allows her sword to vanish, and upon her own chest, she presses her palm to her crystal. ] The light you give me-- your light is-- it's home.

[ Safe. Comfortable. Loved. That is home, always accepting, always welcoming one back to it, no matter how battered or weary the resident may return, no matter how long they've stayed lost. A home is a safe place to rest, to grieve if need be, but also to rest, to recover. Her hand lowers to his chest, draws the outline of the crystal there. Then, she cups over his hand, pressing his palm to it. ]

I hope... you can find that home here, too, with the light I give you. A little reminder that you're not alone, just in case you might need it.

[He listens quietly, watching her hand move from crystal to his own, and his fingers curl against her. He barely notices the sword vanishing; there'll be time enough for that, later. It's not like he has the strength to fully appreciate it right now.

Home... it's a warm thought, one he can't help but dwell on. Sometimes it's hard to think about home, because to him the concept (in a literal sense) is so distressing now. Home means death, the symbolism of his country and his family made manifest into his own future. Skulls and wings and swords, and a dragon god to lord over it all and see it through. Arriving here and finding his family, forging relationships, making connections... he's been able to find home elsewhere, with the people he loves. Home isn't a place as much as it used to be, and while he still loves and misses Insomnia, that can't be home for him anymore. It's a coffin, waiting for him to climb in. Home is... safe, home is love, home is a warm bed and good food and smiling faces. It makes him think of the Kingsglaive and their pledge, for hearth and home. An ironic phrase for people who have lost their homes, but he kind of gets it, now. Maybe Drautos meant it as a wound to inflict on his soldiers more than inspiration, but they'd found families amongst themselves, hadn't they? He used to envy the camaraderie he witnessed, and had felt it with his own group during their journey together. Your brothers, Cid had reminded him. His home is... is people, now. This house, the city around them, even Elysium- they're just places. He can get lost in places, in his own head, but...

His hand tightens, giving a slight tug on hers. He can't do much, but he can hold her a little, just like this.]

I know my way home. And I know you'll guide me back when I need it.

[ With their magic and powers shared with each other, home will never be farther than a thought away if it's needed. Rather than it being a crutch, it's comforting and empowering.

Her hand comb through is hair again, bringing her palm to the side of his cheek as the other twines against his hand. His tug against hers feels weaker than it would be, reminding her of what he's just gone through. ]

Mm, Noct?

When you wake up, there's one thing I'd like you focus on.

[His brows furrow slightly, studying her expression. He hadn't been thinking about waking up, in truth. Here had been hard enough; he suspects he's going to feel much worse in his real body, though it's inevitable.]

What's up?

[ Her tone turns stern, but her gaze is nothing but loving, softening the command in her words. ] The only thing you have to do is.... rest.

[ She knows him well-- well enough to know that he might feel restless or guilty for being idle or otherwise incapacitated, especially when there is some sort of vague pressure, from duty, prophecy, or upbringing to do things, help others, and put himself second, third, and always last.

She wants none of that, so she's giving him this new task. ] Rest, [ She repeats, gently, squeezing his hand, solidifying their mutual hold. ] and recover and take your time doing so. [ There's no one here that currently needs saving, and if he's worried about saving the world, she can simply hold his hand as he rests. ]

That's it, that's the only thing you need to do. Everyone you know will take care of anything else that needs to be done. [ She knows his family will help. She knows that she'd do all of this alone for him, if they don't. ] Stay on the couch, the bed, the back porch, wherever you want to all day, whatever is best. The chores, meals, laundry, all the animals... we'll handle it, do you hear me?

You only focus on allowing your mind to recover.

[He listens to the whole spiel, opening his mouth a few times to protest in between, unceremoniously shut down before he can speak by the very obvious (but, let's be honest, necessary) callout. She's... probably right. No, scratch that, she's definitely right. He's already pretty out of it, so he can only imagine what a hot mess he'll be outside of Elysium. He can hardly move, so who knows how much energy he'll have to get around later. It's fortunate that half of his zoo doesn't require much maintenance, or he'd feel a lot more guilty than he knows he will.

He exhales a breath through his nose, casting his gaze downward, and getting a glimpse of the crystal again on the way. If he forgets what happened and what state he'd ended up in, he's got a built-in reminder to make him behave when Pyra isn't around to do it. If he pushes himself, he'll probably just delay his recovery and make things harder on everyone else.]

You want me... [He begins slowly, every word a bit drawn out for dramatic effect, acting affronted,] To take it easy and let myself be pampered? Me?

[Perish the thought, a spoiled rich boy having to relax and let someone else take care of him. He's never done that before.

He understands the meaning of her request, though. He can't blame her for worrying, really. He's worried. It's a miracle that enough of him survived to even have this conversation, and he's likely going to need some time to sort through his memories and figure out what's really his and what isn't. He's had to do this before, of course, but never on this scale. It's a hell of a daunting task, and for most of it, he has to handle it on his own. It isn't like anyone can tell him what his own memories ought to be, unless they were present for them.]

[ Within the peace of Elysium, there's nothing of the outside world effecting him. His body is whole, the air is clean, and the bell tolls to symbolize the passing of time in what otherwise would be an unchanging, entropy-less realm.

While it's true merely splicing her crystal onto another could return them to life, fully physically well, the exhaustion that he'll feel from the impact of memories bombarding his mind for those scant minutes she had taken to reach him will be very, very real. That trauma is not something her crystal can repair, and-- having never done this before-- she fears that that may indeed translate to malaise and weakness. All of him, all of his subconscious, will need to work and to repair what damage had been done. Elysium is a balm, an opiate to the realities his physical body and brain are experiencing. Her crystal is an entity that protects him from a maelstrom of memories he now harbors. But he is still human, still mortal. He needs dedicated time to recover, and to focus on that recovery as if it were medicine itself.

She wants him to rest, and not feel guilty for that rest.

Pyra answers in a similar, faux-serious tone, although she cannot help her smile. She does adore pampering him. ]

This task, should you choose to accept, will result in a fate of cuddles and sweets and family.

Mm... I guess I've got no choice. I've gotta do it.

[A non-serious answer with a very serious promise buried beneath it, and it shows in his somewhat guilty expression and the slight smile he wears- guilt not for requiring rest and extra care, but requiring the gentle chiding ahead of time. He would definitely have ended up pushing himself too hard in some way or another, as he often does. Everyone worrying about him and taking care of him after an awful trauma of his own making, when he failed to take these memories seriously enough and push for a better resolution than just recording them and pushing them to the corner of his mind until he could ignore them no longer...

He tugs her hand up to his mouth for a kiss he'd intended to be brief, but can't help lingering on, a faint tremor in his grasp and tone. He could have lost her, lost himself. Lost so much. If her request is for him to take it easy and recover properly, after saving his life, he definitely can't refuse. Especially when he hopes she'll have less to worry about if he does this right.]

Whatever you think is best, I'll follow your lead. I... could probably stand to do a little more listening to other people when I'm in trouble.

[ His stubbornness is a virtue. ]

You're resilient, Noct, but... [ "But you're also mortal," is what she almost adds, but the wording to that sounds too underestimating of him. He's mortal, yes, but he's done and overcome so many things before. ] ...You have your limits. [ There's a balance between the two, knowing what one can handle and what one cannot, and the ability to ask for help when the latter occurs.

In this case, the both of them knew that this could have happened, and the memories were happening more frequently. Neither knew that it would happen this day. He had asked for help, when it counted most.

How she sorely wishes she had brought up to offer her crystal again after she saw him lost to another memory when they woke up from camping together.

Hindsight is always clearer, though. ]

I'm very proud of you, that you asked for help.

[ That's what really saved his life. ]

...Ah...

[Her words make his cheeks go a little pink, at first because he's pleased by the praise, then because it occurs to him just how he asked for help. As in, blind-firing help into his social circle and hoping for the best. He... actually has no idea who he sent those to, or how many, or what else he might have said if anything. It's pure luck that he managed to get one to Pyra at all. God, what kind of disaster is waiting for him when he wakes up?]

S-sorry, that must've really freaked you out, huh?

[It's only a half-apology, as he's not really sorry for needing help - rather, he doesn't regret asking. Still, he wishes there'd been a better way of going about it. Maybe if he'd had some sort of emergency contact set up, or only contacted her... all options for an alternate reality where he hadn't had an awful bloody breakdown and lost the capacity to properly think within seconds of realizing he needed her. Something to think about, though it may not matter after the fact.]

You never ask for help. I knew to come. [ Even though her words are simple, she's still wearing a smile. Sure, of course, it worried her immensely. At the same time, didn't they say they would celebrate each other, for moments of overcoming things like bad habits? Bad habits such as not asking for help?

This is one of those times, and so she leans down a bit to bring him into a half-hug. When she straightens up again, her hand is back in his. ] And I'm so, so thankful for it.

[He hesitates at that admission, his hand tightening in her grip.]

Do I really not...?

[It's true that when he's given help freely, he'll usually show that he's grateful one way or another. He can acknowledge that much- he wants to make sure that those who support him are aware that he appreciates it. He's awkward and kind of bad at it and forgets sometimes, but... he tries, at least. But asking for it, himself? That's... yeah, that's far more rare. He should probably feel bad about that, too, but she's saying she's grateful for it, and he is, too, so he'll try to hold off on the guilt complex there, for once. He purses his lips, considering.]

...Then, um... I'll ask you again. Help me?

[He's definitely going to need it, recovering from all this - with the problems he knows about, and those he doesn't - and even if she's already offered to take care of him, maybe it'll help her to hear that he's willing.]

Always. [ She says again, weaving her fingers into his. ] Always.

[ For a few moments, her smile is bittersweet. The memory of finding him collapsed isn't easy to forget, and if not for the simple request for help, she wouldn't have known unless she coincidentally attempted to warp or summon the sword he'd lent her, and discovers that the armory powers weren't working correctly. That would have been luck. This time he had chosen to ask for help instead, and that choice saved his life. It's a big step. Whether it was from desperation or panic, she's glad that he had asked, that he hadn't chosen to hide what was happening to him, which he could have easily done.

"This might not be all that comforting, but I've almost died plenty of times. It's not as big a deal as you might think."

This, he said to her the last time he had a near-death experience with the Fetter. ]

Noct, do you... [ Her lips purse as she thinks about how to word her question. ] You once told me that you've almost died plenty of times. That's it not as 'big of a deal'.

[ She tilts her head down, looking at him earnestly. ] Do you ever grow tired of that? Nearly dying.

[He winces at that. He really did say it like that, didn't he.]

Believe me, I don't enjoy it. If I had a choice, I wouldn't end up like that. But... you understand why, right?

[He gets hurt because he fights. He fights to protect people. Sometimes he protects people by nearly dying. It isn't because he chose that option, but because it's a natural consequence of not being strong enough to survive what's thrown at him when it happens. He's not proud of it, but he's not ashamed, either. To fight means to risk your life. That's what it means to be a soldier of any kind.]

Mm... I understand why.

[ He wants to protect others. That's easy to understand. ] But, um, I don't want you to think that it's a... casual thing to me. I'll always care about things like that. [ The light in her eyes dances with a bit of mist reflected in them.

Treating his near-death experiences as par for the course, as simply a part of his life as the standard, as "not a big deal", simply doesn't sit right to her. It seems callous to brush off such a serious event for a loved one to experience, and it speaks to the harsh reality of his life that he's so used to it, whereas she is not. She'll never be, immortal as she is. ] I know with battles it's different, and you'll always fight for others and put them first, but...

At least with the crystal and these memories-- a near-death experience doesn't have to be a part of your life anymore, okay? [ She hopes that he'll allow her that, just one pocket of his non-battle life being without the threat of being crushed and killed by the weight of the world's memories. She doesn't want him to be used to such a terrible thing. How would he appear if he was, perhaps as worn down as his older self?

He deserves something better than that. ]

...Yeah... okay.

[He'd never intended to make it into a casual thing; it certainly wasn't in the moment when it happened. There'd been panic and yelling, usually blood or some injury, plenty of pain. It wasn't a fun experience. He'd experienced it and witnessed it, both- through his own, or through the close calls of his comrades. It had happened too many times to count, as they'd fumbled their way through a dangerous, unknown world with too little information and nowhere near enough resources. Luck, magic, and stubborn teamwork had gotten them through the worst of it, every time. If not for all of that, any of them could have died multiple times.

It isn't casual, though. It isn't... "no big deal". and knowing how he'd felt in those moments, waiting in panic as a phoenix down kicked in or a potion sealed up a bad wound that could have killed someone who didn't have magic in their pockets, well. He knows how she must feel, watching him. He doesn't want to just brush those feelings aside like they don't matter, just because he's gotten used to playing fast and wild with his own life.]

The crystal... is gonna store them, you said. Keep the bulk of them away from my head, so this doesn't happen again. Is that- as long as I have it with me?

[He'd assumed that was the case, back when they first discussed it, but he needs to know for sure what counts as a permanent solution. If the wall breaks or something happens, he doesn't want to fall into that state again and upset everyone. He doesn't want to die through his own ignorance, either.]

[ It's as if she had been holding her breath, waiting for his answer. She isn't asking for him to be careful-- she knows how he is. And she doesn't know if him treating near-deaths as "no big deal" is how he copes with it, through all the times he has experienced it. She wishes he could have better than that, he deserves to be safe. While she knows he will continue to fight for others when necessary, that's his choice. The crystal's effects are not. At least... outside of the battlefield, he won't be in danger of losing his life to it. She wants him to have that. ]

As long as you have it with you.

[ She answers, her eyes flicking to the crystal on his chest, then up to his face.

Her telling him that she could take back the crystal at any moment doesn't seem so much like an option anymore, when his life is on the line. At the same time, if he dies, and she uses her crystal to bring him back, would it not reset him to a state that wouldn't need protection? A death loophole, as it were--

She doesn't want to test it. ]

It's--um-- we are used to processing and storing so much history. It will hold, but... [ But the hows aren't important. Pyra tilts her head, then, tentatively: ] How are you feeling? Up here, I mean. [ Her hand moves to brush through his hair, afterwards tapping a finger to the side of his head. ]

[He exhales a breath at that, heavy as the question itself.]

Like I've gone through a tumble dryer, at this point. [He's wondering if it's a miracle he even knows what that is.] I'm... not doing so good. I think. Not yet, at least. [He wobbles a hand awkwardly, struggling to find the words to describe it. If she gives him the time, he'll work through it, slowly.] You know how... when I got those visions, the last few times, I had a hard time coming out of it? Everything was fuzzy. It was tough to figure out what was mine, and what was theirs.

[It's easier to talk to her about the present, and the crystal and the sword and everything related to her, because he can ask questions and not worry about answers, things he should remember but have managed to forget, temporarily or not. He doesn't have to know about those things, because they're hers, and she remembers them just fine. He's... worried. About what he remembers, and what he's forgotten. ...Actually-]

I'm scared. [What's the point of being here, of her offering to support him and sharing her crystal with him, if he's just going to monologue his confusion in his own stupid head and keep silent otherwise? She can't help him if he doesn't admit he needs it. They already went over how he'd have been screwed if he didn't before.] I... I'm worried I waited too long, that I should have asked for your help months ago, or even back when you first offered. I didn't even remember that you'd done it at the time... I was in too much of a panic to know what I was doing when I sent out those messages.

[He chews idly on his lower lip, feeling awkward about admitting all this, but - and if there was one blessing about his current memory issues, it's this - not exactly sure why. Habit, maybe. Why is he so stubborn about keeping things to himself all the time? What purpose does it serve, isn't he just hurting people including himself?]

...I don't... want to hurt people, by forgetting important stuff that we've done together. But I don't know what got caught up in all this, or... if there's anything that won't come back. [No, that's not the only thing. It's for him, too.] I- I don't want to forget.

[ Her fingers continues to draw gentle circles into his scalp as he speaks, hoping to soothe him, as if it would make it easier. While she is worried for him, it would be a lie to say she expected that recovery would be quick, smooth, and without any obstacles or scars. He's scared and worried and he doesn't want to forget-- and she's grateful for him telling her this.

Her lips press together, thinking of something. ]

The memories of your star-- you're a part of it, aren't you? They must still be there. Maybe it's a matter of waiting. Maybe it's a matter of exploring the archives of memories themselves and finding them. [ Such as taking a metaphysical trip into memories that are being processed by the spliced part of her crystal that now rests upon his chest, like browsing a library. ] However, [ She continues, her tone firming, as if cautioning him from being too reckless. ] That'd be something reserved to consider in the future, not now.

[ Then the tone softens, as does her smile. ]

Besides... no one can fault you, if you need a reminder or two in the meantime. [ She'd like to believe those who know him well enough to realize he's forgetting one or two things would be understanding. She's more worried about any guilt he might feel over that forgetting, when it wasn't his fault in the first place why he'd forgotten. ] You're allowed to be scared. And to want things. And-- [ Another small tap upon his head. ] You're also allowed to be patient with yourself, as these memories return.

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