[Staggering and limping, the future is beginning to materialize once more. He nods, delirious in his relief, willing to commit hours of his week towards lessons and practice sessions. He'd promise anything, right now, if it meant that the future could look solid and reassuring and safe again in a way that no mirror could take away from him on a whim.
Bed sounds reasonable, doable, even if he doubts his mind can repose enough to sleep anytime soon. He'll stay awake, watching and guarding, until he's sure they're past the danger. Will he ever feel that way again?]
It's not so bad.
[He can see the bloody strength of his jaw through the pressure of each human tooth. He blinks, and imprinted on the back of his eyelids in a flash is the brief image of a jackal gnawing off its own limb to escape some fate more painful.]
We're still getting it patched up. You're not the one who has to take the bloody sheets to the laundress.
[A breathing pause falls after the words, as Myr doesn't move to stand. He keeps his head on L's shoulder, keeps one hand on Crookytail's head and the other securely on his Bonded.
There are some things that cannot be faced directly between them, and yet,]
And I've just gotten you back after I thought we'd be saying farewell forever. I can't stand the thought of you hurt now, if I ever could.
[He lets the sentiment sink in for a minute or two in early morning silence of the House before pushing himself--carefully--to his feet.]
It is different, but it won't take so long to get back in practice. Should be able to make it home. [A beat.] With help, if you'd not mind.
[It is, perhaps, more important than ever to model certain things his stubborn pride would otherwise prevent him from doing.]
[There's a long silence as Myr doesn't move to stand, saying something that is uncomfortably true. L is here, exhausted with relief, because Myr didn't say farewell forever. Myr speaks of a loss he was also spared from. It's as heavy as it is deeply moving, to think that their devotion could be reciprocal this way, even if L is left feeling as though something is unbalanced, and an apology is owed from his side for the shuddering darkness that still reels on the edges of this improbable second chance they've been granted.
I almost did something terrible; I almost wounded you so deeply.
He reaches out swiftly, offering his bare-limbed, scrawny strength, such as it is, to help Myr stand. Compared to some things, this is mercifully easy. Acts of service have always been a very reliable love language for him to communicate with.]
I can't make it all the way, but I can teleport a good part of the distance.
[He's never carried three total beings, which it would be, counting Crookytail. That shaves additional distance off of what he's willing to risk.]
From there, we can do our best to keep to softer ground...
[He staggered over that ground recklessly barefoot. His own feet are not wholly undamaged from the endeavor, dirty and scraped in places. That bodes poorly, but they'll be more careful. They're not moving with panic in their hearts, on the journey home.]
[It is an apology Myr aches to hear without knowing it--not for the redress it would provide, but because they would be speaking about that black thing at all instead of facing away from it.
In time, perhaps. Perhaps that too was embedded as a promise in his own return through the mirrors, that the unfinished work he needed a Witch's power for encompassed saving his beloved from himself.
Maker and Lady, might it be so.
He gives L's hand a squeeze once they're both standing, reluctant still to let go.]
That should do. We're not in any hurry, after all. In fact-- [Something once withered and dormant shivers back to life in him, a dried dead flower uncurling at magic's touch into bright and joyous life. Myr's tone is almost shy, with the force of that sudden joy behind it.] --I know it's not ideal, given the hour--but would you mind explaining the spell as you do it?
[Teleportation would be beyond him for a while yet. Might not even be possible, without sight. But at least he could try now. At least he had the way to learn. The channel between him and Talam's magic is there, sure as his connection to the Fade had once been and nearly as familiar.
[L aches to give voice to his remorse, at least as much as Myr aches to hear it. But it would be a confession, too, and he clings like a coward to his plausible deniability. The darkness is always there, he'd claim fiercely, always his to hold and mutually haunt. It meant nothing particular tonight, nothing concerning, nothing devastating.
It's tame, after all. To open the cage would be to soundly disprove as much, and there would be no putting it back inside once it was out. There would be no refuge in the embrace of its secret oblivion ever again, however poorly kept.
He chases the shadows with an overbright smile that Myr can certainly hear, even if he can't see it. Though L hasn't ever made study of necromancy, seeing no reason and cultivating no particular interest, he feels a disturbing connection to the art tonight. He's moving and speaking in spite of everything, isn't he? It's unnatural, maybe even profane, for him to stand and hold someone's hand and smile, some kind of freakish puppet show for some kind of demented farce.
Is the farce touching Myr? Daring to love him, but managing it like treacle, the sweetness offset by the way it clings and eats holes in teeth that could otherwise be strong and healthy?]
I'm glad to explain.
[Relieved as hell, actually, to have a process, to give his voice to explanation instead of despair or defense.]
It's a universal spell, so likely one of the first you'll learn, and endlessly useful. Runes were important when I first learned, and incantations... they help tighten the focus and prevent landing somewhere you don't intend. But as you practice, and learn the extradimensional path as well as the roads and routes you might travel by foot, it's as normal and reflexive as taking a step forward. It's taxing based on how much matter you're taking with you- a satchel won't exhaust you as much as a companion- and how much distance you're covering. You can build strength and stamina over time, but everyone has a limit they probably can't grow beyond, just like everyone will only ever be able to lift so much, or run so far without collapsing.
I don't need them, but... I can show you the runes that'll help to start with.
[He guides Myr's hand, tracing shapes in his own palm with a fingertip. The combination of flesh and magic is warm.]
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Bed sounds reasonable, doable, even if he doubts his mind can repose enough to sleep anytime soon. He'll stay awake, watching and guarding, until he's sure they're past the danger. Will he ever feel that way again?]
It's not so bad.
[He can see the bloody strength of his jaw through the pressure of each human tooth. He blinks, and imprinted on the back of his eyelids in a flash is the brief image of a jackal gnawing off its own limb to escape some fate more painful.]
You can walk? It's... different, it has to be.
no subject
[A breathing pause falls after the words, as Myr doesn't move to stand. He keeps his head on L's shoulder, keeps one hand on Crookytail's head and the other securely on his Bonded.
There are some things that cannot be faced directly between them, and yet,]
And I've just gotten you back after I thought we'd be saying farewell forever. I can't stand the thought of you hurt now, if I ever could.
[He lets the sentiment sink in for a minute or two in early morning silence of the House before pushing himself--carefully--to his feet.]
It is different, but it won't take so long to get back in practice. Should be able to make it home. [A beat.] With help, if you'd not mind.
[It is, perhaps, more important than ever to model certain things his stubborn pride would otherwise prevent him from doing.]
no subject
I almost did something terrible; I almost wounded you so deeply.
He reaches out swiftly, offering his bare-limbed, scrawny strength, such as it is, to help Myr stand. Compared to some things, this is mercifully easy. Acts of service have always been a very reliable love language for him to communicate with.]
I can't make it all the way, but I can teleport a good part of the distance.
[He's never carried three total beings, which it would be, counting Crookytail. That shaves additional distance off of what he's willing to risk.]
From there, we can do our best to keep to softer ground...
[He staggered over that ground recklessly barefoot. His own feet are not wholly undamaged from the endeavor, dirty and scraped in places. That bodes poorly, but they'll be more careful. They're not moving with panic in their hearts, on the journey home.]
no subject
In time, perhaps. Perhaps that too was embedded as a promise in his own return through the mirrors, that the unfinished work he needed a Witch's power for encompassed saving his beloved from himself.
Maker and Lady, might it be so.
He gives L's hand a squeeze once they're both standing, reluctant still to let go.]
That should do. We're not in any hurry, after all. In fact-- [Something once withered and dormant shivers back to life in him, a dried dead flower uncurling at magic's touch into bright and joyous life. Myr's tone is almost shy, with the force of that sudden joy behind it.] --I know it's not ideal, given the hour--but would you mind explaining the spell as you do it?
[Teleportation would be beyond him for a while yet. Might not even be possible, without sight. But at least he could try now. At least he had the way to learn. The channel between him and Talam's magic is there, sure as his connection to the Fade had once been and nearly as familiar.
He is a mage again.]
no subject
It's tame, after all. To open the cage would be to soundly disprove as much, and there would be no putting it back inside once it was out. There would be no refuge in the embrace of its secret oblivion ever again, however poorly kept.
He chases the shadows with an overbright smile that Myr can certainly hear, even if he can't see it. Though L hasn't ever made study of necromancy, seeing no reason and cultivating no particular interest, he feels a disturbing connection to the art tonight. He's moving and speaking in spite of everything, isn't he? It's unnatural, maybe even profane, for him to stand and hold someone's hand and smile, some kind of freakish puppet show for some kind of demented farce.
Is the farce touching Myr? Daring to love him, but managing it like treacle, the sweetness offset by the way it clings and eats holes in teeth that could otherwise be strong and healthy?]
I'm glad to explain.
[Relieved as hell, actually, to have a process, to give his voice to explanation instead of despair or defense.]
It's a universal spell, so likely one of the first you'll learn, and endlessly useful. Runes were important when I first learned, and incantations... they help tighten the focus and prevent landing somewhere you don't intend. But as you practice, and learn the extradimensional path as well as the roads and routes you might travel by foot, it's as normal and reflexive as taking a step forward. It's taxing based on how much matter you're taking with you- a satchel won't exhaust you as much as a companion- and how much distance you're covering. You can build strength and stamina over time, but everyone has a limit they probably can't grow beyond, just like everyone will only ever be able to lift so much, or run so far without collapsing.
I don't need them, but... I can show you the runes that'll help to start with.
[He guides Myr's hand, tracing shapes in his own palm with a fingertip. The combination of flesh and magic is warm.]