[ He sits there feeling angry, sullen, indignant. What is he supposed to do? He has met his old friend - living, breathing, alive. Does she want him to turn to Hythlodaeus, tell him that he will have to let him die after all? Tell him that he won't even try to save him or countless others? ]
...I would prefer it if you did.
[ It's so much simpler to reduce the narrative to hero versus villain. She's not even angry; she's disappointed. It makes him want to throw something.
There is a story in one of the many worlds, about a man condemned to hell whose sole act of kindness was to spare an arachne during their travels. For this deed, the gods dangled a single thread of its silk into hell so that he might have a chance to reach the heavens.
The man chased that thread, treading on the backs of many others who had found their own place in hell with him, yet the thread continued to dangle just slightly out of reach no matter how high a mountain he made of their bodies.
That man would never reach the heavens.
Emet-Selch sets his cutlery down sharply, feeling quite bereft of appetite despite having barely eaten anything. ]
I did not ask to be saved right before the moment of my death. I did not ask to have this hope dangled before me. Even if I have acknowledged you, that does not suddenly mean I intend to forsake that which I have been working towards for much of my godsforsaken life. You may not wish to kill me again either but know that I would rather be dead than pretending I care for people who have never once cared for each other.
no subject
...I would prefer it if you did.
[ It's so much simpler to reduce the narrative to hero versus villain. She's not even angry; she's disappointed. It makes him want to throw something.
There is a story in one of the many worlds, about a man condemned to hell whose sole act of kindness was to spare an arachne during their travels. For this deed, the gods dangled a single thread of its silk into hell so that he might have a chance to reach the heavens.
The man chased that thread, treading on the backs of many others who had found their own place in hell with him, yet the thread continued to dangle just slightly out of reach no matter how high a mountain he made of their bodies.
That man would never reach the heavens.
Emet-Selch sets his cutlery down sharply, feeling quite bereft of appetite despite having barely eaten anything. ]
I did not ask to be saved right before the moment of my death. I did not ask to have this hope dangled before me. Even if I have acknowledged you, that does not suddenly mean I intend to forsake that which I have been working towards for much of my godsforsaken life. You may not wish to kill me again either but know that I would rather be dead than pretending I care for people who have never once cared for each other.