Crown Prince Wilhelm ♛ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ordinar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2024-06-04 05:55 pm
ordinar) wrote in abraxaslogs2024-06-04 05:55 pm
Kell had already begun to move back into the castle, before they were all marched out to the Singularity and swallowed up in an imaginary life. Now that they've returned, it's not so hard to haul all his things from the single room he'd claimed down the hall to Wilhelm's now too empty room. They've both gotten used to having someone else around.
This evening, Wilhelm coaxes Kell out of the library with a bottle of wine he's swiped from the dining hall to share back in their room. He's gotten good at popping the cork out with his knife. Tilting the bottle's neck toward Kell, he offers:
"You first."
This evening, Wilhelm coaxes Kell out of the library with a bottle of wine he's swiped from the dining hall to share back in their room. He's gotten good at popping the cork out with his knife. Tilting the bottle's neck toward Kell, he offers:
"You first."
By the end of the month, Wilhelm has resumed his delivery routes around Castle Thorne and Nott. The days keep trudging forward, and he just tries to keep up with them. As he returns the bike in the late afternoon, when the shadows start to stretch across the castle lawn, he spots River wandering among the flowerbeds. It pulls him back to the starlit gardens of her Horizon, where she appeared with constellations covering her skin.
Guilt pinches him as he realizes he should have checked on her sooner. He was so consumed by his own problems, it didn't even occur to him. None of it was real, but he's still left with the weight of eight centuries worth of friendship, an imprint that can't be smoothed away so easily.
Changing course, he wheels the bike over to her.
"Hey, River." Gently, like she might be a skittish thing ready to bolt. "How have you been?"
Guilt pinches him as he realizes he should have checked on her sooner. He was so consumed by his own problems, it didn't even occur to him. None of it was real, but he's still left with the weight of eight centuries worth of friendship, an imprint that can't be smoothed away so easily.
Changing course, he wheels the bike over to her.
"Hey, River." Gently, like she might be a skittish thing ready to bolt. "How have you been?"
By the end of the month, River has left her bedroom. That's about as much progress as she can claim. Perhaps Wilhelm might remember her earliest days of arriving in Thorne, when she wandered about the castle in a daze without talking to anyone.
Then again, perhaps not. It's been eight-hundred years or six months since then, depending on how you look at it. The haze of her memories is precisely why she's retracing her steps now, walking the same halls and gardens she's walked a thousand times to touch every stone and flower, trying to convince herself it's all real. Again, the exact same way she had in the beginning.
At least there are familiar faces this time. She doesn't quite smile when Wilhelm approaches; there's a bone deep exhaustion darkening her features, but it lightens just a little to see him.
"I've been a lot of things." Vague, but not inaccurate. River eyes him from head to toe, then drops her gaze to the bike. "Is it back to business as usual?"
Then again, perhaps not. It's been eight-hundred years or six months since then, depending on how you look at it. The haze of her memories is precisely why she's retracing her steps now, walking the same halls and gardens she's walked a thousand times to touch every stone and flower, trying to convince herself it's all real. Again, the exact same way she had in the beginning.
At least there are familiar faces this time. She doesn't quite smile when Wilhelm approaches; there's a bone deep exhaustion darkening her features, but it lightens just a little to see him.
"I've been a lot of things." Vague, but not inaccurate. River eyes him from head to toe, then drops her gaze to the bike. "Is it back to business as usual?"
Everything was already a mess even before they were hauled into the crater. Kell feels like it happened in another life. He went willingly, even enthusiastically. He thought this was finally the way to fix everything. He should have known. He's never right.
When they were spit back after what felt like millennia of dreamy existence, Kell just gave up. Then he learned who didn't come back, and knowing that obliterated whatever last scraps of will he had. He would have been angry if he weren't so defeated. He doesn't spend his time in the library because he has some kind of ambition or even goal. He just uses it as an excuse to leave the room and at least attempt looking alive.
So it takes no effort for Wilhelm to drag him out of library. Wine makes his case even stronger. But when Wilhelm offers him a bottle, it's then that he gets more emotion than an apathetic shrug from Kell.
"I'm not going to drink straight from the bottle!"
Rhy did that. Always. They could pretend they are not princes but rugged adventurers involved in some not exactly legal business. That they are free to do what they want.
Kell raises from his place, but the realizes it's still Wilhelm's room more than his, and he still doesn't know where things are. Only that his are still unpacked, because he couldn't drag himself to do it. Not in his previous room, not until now. He drops to his place defeated.
"Do you have any glasses here?"
When they were spit back after what felt like millennia of dreamy existence, Kell just gave up. Then he learned who didn't come back, and knowing that obliterated whatever last scraps of will he had. He would have been angry if he weren't so defeated. He doesn't spend his time in the library because he has some kind of ambition or even goal. He just uses it as an excuse to leave the room and at least attempt looking alive.
So it takes no effort for Wilhelm to drag him out of library. Wine makes his case even stronger. But when Wilhelm offers him a bottle, it's then that he gets more emotion than an apathetic shrug from Kell.
"I'm not going to drink straight from the bottle!"
Rhy did that. Always. They could pretend they are not princes but rugged adventurers involved in some not exactly legal business. That they are free to do what they want.
Kell raises from his place, but the realizes it's still Wilhelm's room more than his, and he still doesn't know where things are. Only that his are still unpacked, because he couldn't drag himself to do it. Not in his previous room, not until now. He drops to his place defeated.
"Do you have any glasses here?"
It was a stupid question, how have you been? Despite everything, or because of it, it's hard to know what to say. Wilhelm can see the exhaustion worn into her, just as she can probably feel his echoing sadness like someone in mourning.
"I guess so," he answers, eyes flicking down to his knuckles on the handlebars. "I'm trying anyway."
But it's not really back to business as usual. It's business as usual, shifted slightly to the left and tilted at an odd angle. Memories of that other life, that long future, poke through like broken bones, sudden and unexpected. It wasn't all bad. He remembers feeling confident, fully himself after centuries of evolution. But he also remembers things he could not outgrow like snakeskin, the pressure of wielding so much power, the constant anxiety that he could come crashing out of balance.
"Do you want to sit?"
He cants his head toward a bench nestled among the flowers, and recalls a similar invitation extended in another life. Frogs hopping to life under a wide swath of stars, a peace offering.
"I guess so," he answers, eyes flicking down to his knuckles on the handlebars. "I'm trying anyway."
But it's not really back to business as usual. It's business as usual, shifted slightly to the left and tilted at an odd angle. Memories of that other life, that long future, poke through like broken bones, sudden and unexpected. It wasn't all bad. He remembers feeling confident, fully himself after centuries of evolution. But he also remembers things he could not outgrow like snakeskin, the pressure of wielding so much power, the constant anxiety that he could come crashing out of balance.
"Do you want to sit?"
He cants his head toward a bench nestled among the flowers, and recalls a similar invitation extended in another life. Frogs hopping to life under a wide swath of stars, a peace offering.
Kell doesn't name Rhy, but Wilhelm feels the ghost of his presence anyway. They used to do that together, back when he was full of butterflies for Rhy and desperate to convince him that he was cool enough for his consideration. Setting the bottle down, he rises from the armchair he'd spilled himself into. His eyeroll is all fondness, not annoyance.
"Fine, your highness."
He does, in fact, have a small collection of assorted dinnerware that he's neglected to return to the dining hall. None of which includes actual wine glasses, but he grabs two copper mugs and, returning to the sitting area in front of the fireplace, passes one to Kell. He fills his roommate's first, then his own.
"Cheers," Wilhelm says cheerlessly, raising his mug.
Late evening summer sun still slants through the windows. It's too warm for an actual fire; the hearth is dark and lifeless. Above it, the mantle is cluttered with artifacts of Wilhelm's time in Abraxas. A wooden frog Rhy once carved for him, and a glass one patterned after those that inhabit the magma pools of the Nether. The amphibian mask he'd worn at the masquerade ball in the Feywilds, a pewter snow globe Jesper bought him on their first date in Nocwich. A vase that Elrond used to fill with flowers, now sitting empty.
Sinking back into this chair, he tries not to think about how Kelson once sat across from him and agreed to try out a relationship. Even if it was different from everything he'd known before, even if it wasn't going to last forever.
Well, about that.
"Fine, your highness."
He does, in fact, have a small collection of assorted dinnerware that he's neglected to return to the dining hall. None of which includes actual wine glasses, but he grabs two copper mugs and, returning to the sitting area in front of the fireplace, passes one to Kell. He fills his roommate's first, then his own.
"Cheers," Wilhelm says cheerlessly, raising his mug.
Late evening summer sun still slants through the windows. It's too warm for an actual fire; the hearth is dark and lifeless. Above it, the mantle is cluttered with artifacts of Wilhelm's time in Abraxas. A wooden frog Rhy once carved for him, and a glass one patterned after those that inhabit the magma pools of the Nether. The amphibian mask he'd worn at the masquerade ball in the Feywilds, a pewter snow globe Jesper bought him on their first date in Nocwich. A vase that Elrond used to fill with flowers, now sitting empty.
Sinking back into this chair, he tries not to think about how Kelson once sat across from him and agreed to try out a relationship. Even if it was different from everything he'd known before, even if it wasn't going to last forever.
Well, about that.
Edited 2024-06-09 23:49 (UTC)
Things have memories attached to them. Is it the reason why he didn't unpack his own yet? Maybe. Or maybe it still haunts him how easily he forgot out the in this separate world. Mirror Abraxas, like he ended calling it in his thoughts. Just like the other Londons were reflections, no, variations on the city he grew up in.
Kell ignores the jab and takes the glass. His eyes wander the crowded shelf over the fireplace. He recognizes the frog that Rhy carved for Wilhelm. He saw him do it, remembers it like it was yesterday. So why he forgot there? There, it was only him and Sabine. But even she is lost to him. Like he can't keep anyone to himself. And as he sits there Kell notices one more absence. One more hole in the fabric of their lives.
Kelson.
They both have been orphaned by the people they put their hopes in. By no fault of those who are missing. It was all Singularity doing.
What kind of cursed pathetic losers they must be that everything they hope for, any semblance of normalcy, a tiniest sliver of happiness, they claw themselves into, turns into ash the moment they get a little too comfortable.
"You know," Kell raises his mug in respond to Wille's toast. "The Singularity must really hate us."
Wine tastes awful from a metal cup, and copper is probably the worst choice for it. It seeps into the alcohol leaving it with faint hint of metal. Like there was blood mixed with wine. Kell doesn't complain. Somehow it feels fitting for the moment.
Kell ignores the jab and takes the glass. His eyes wander the crowded shelf over the fireplace. He recognizes the frog that Rhy carved for Wilhelm. He saw him do it, remembers it like it was yesterday. So why he forgot there? There, it was only him and Sabine. But even she is lost to him. Like he can't keep anyone to himself. And as he sits there Kell notices one more absence. One more hole in the fabric of their lives.
Kelson.
They both have been orphaned by the people they put their hopes in. By no fault of those who are missing. It was all Singularity doing.
What kind of cursed pathetic losers they must be that everything they hope for, any semblance of normalcy, a tiniest sliver of happiness, they claw themselves into, turns into ash the moment they get a little too comfortable.
"You know," Kell raises his mug in respond to Wille's toast. "The Singularity must really hate us."
Wine tastes awful from a metal cup, and copper is probably the worst choice for it. It seeps into the alcohol leaving it with faint hint of metal. Like there was blood mixed with wine. Kell doesn't complain. Somehow it feels fitting for the moment.
Wilhelm makes a face as the wine slides down his throat, leaving behind a faint coppery taste in his mouth like he's bitten his tongue. They should have just drank straight from the bottle, but he holds that thought in. Otherwise, his thoughts follow the same brooding bend as Kell's, the same ruts they've circled ever since Wilhelm woke up in the crater and found that Kelson was gone.
Sabine was gone too. Wilhelm never really knew her, but he knows Kell was close to her. Losing her so soon after losing Rhy must have felt like a kick to the gut when he was already sprawled out in the dirt.
Closing his eyes, he can still see the searing threads of light that burst out around him when he and Jack combined their power — and their reckless stupidity — to try to locate the ones they'd lost. Their failure felt like a door closing forever, but it couldn't keep out all the what ifs that stalk him.
He puffs out a sad, staccato laugh.
"The Singularity can go fuck itself." No, that doesn't make any sense. No, Wilhelm doesn't care. "You know, the best thing about that weird future was that...we were all, like, bound here. Because we were gods. We couldn't leave, right? So we didn't have to lose anybody."
Sabine was gone too. Wilhelm never really knew her, but he knows Kell was close to her. Losing her so soon after losing Rhy must have felt like a kick to the gut when he was already sprawled out in the dirt.
Closing his eyes, he can still see the searing threads of light that burst out around him when he and Jack combined their power — and their reckless stupidity — to try to locate the ones they'd lost. Their failure felt like a door closing forever, but it couldn't keep out all the what ifs that stalk him.
He puffs out a sad, staccato laugh.
"The Singularity can go fuck itself." No, that doesn't make any sense. No, Wilhelm doesn't care. "You know, the best thing about that weird future was that...we were all, like, bound here. Because we were gods. We couldn't leave, right? So we didn't have to lose anybody."
The same memory comes to mind of when he made a similarly somber offer, and with it comes a flood of complicated emotions. Confusion, sadness, guilt, even loneliness - but there's also warmth, fond affection for a friend that never stopped trying even if things were always messy between them.
She thinks she might've hurt him, in that other lifetime. Then again, he might be thinking the same thing. She can sense his sadness too.
So River stares at the bench, contemplating it for only a moment before saying, "Yes. But not here. I want to show you something."
She thinks she might've hurt him, in that other lifetime. Then again, he might be thinking the same thing. She can sense his sadness too.
So River stares at the bench, contemplating it for only a moment before saying, "Yes. But not here. I want to show you something."
With all these leftover memories lingering in a haze, it could be that some part of him is still trying to make up for things that never happened. But he could also just use a friend right now, and River feels more familiar than she should. He's tired of losing people, of finally finding a good thing only for the universe to take it back like it was a mistake. For the same reason, he couldn't give up on mending what fell apart between him and River in that other life.
At her suggestion, he tilts a curious look at her.
"What is it?" Then a flicker of a smile, which makes his golden freckles catch the sunlight. That's another thing that stuck around after he woke up. "Or is it a surprise?"
At her suggestion, he tilts a curious look at her.
"What is it?" Then a flicker of a smile, which makes his golden freckles catch the sunlight. That's another thing that stuck around after he woke up. "Or is it a surprise?"
"Stupid rock, stupid people who dragged us here."
Those are the weakest insults he's ever spoke, but Kell doesn't have the strength for the effort required to invent something better. Which is a great indicator of how bad is his the current state. His insults always were very creative. Now? He can't force himself to care.
"It felt nice." Eight hundred years to experience the world. With others, or on his own. "And you what was as good? Being able to go anywhere we liked. It felt like being myself again."
Kell realized that he relied on his ability to move between worlds with ease. To move around them with even less effort. Being stuck in Thorne castle - again! - feels like a prison. They don't need to throw him into dungeon, to make him feel like he's in one.
There's also the part he didn't like there. It feels quite terrifying remembering what he turned into. The one thing he never wants to become, and yet, having god powers has turned him into it anyway.
Those are the weakest insults he's ever spoke, but Kell doesn't have the strength for the effort required to invent something better. Which is a great indicator of how bad is his the current state. His insults always were very creative. Now? He can't force himself to care.
"It felt nice." Eight hundred years to experience the world. With others, or on his own. "And you what was as good? Being able to go anywhere we liked. It felt like being myself again."
Kell realized that he relied on his ability to move between worlds with ease. To move around them with even less effort. Being stuck in Thorne castle - again! - feels like a prison. They don't need to throw him into dungeon, to make him feel like he's in one.
There's also the part he didn't like there. It feels quite terrifying remembering what he turned into. The one thing he never wants to become, and yet, having god powers has turned him into it anyway.
River has spent the last two weeks more or less staring at her bedroom wall as an immortal being's lifetime flashed before her. She remembers everything, even things the goddess called Serenity had forgotten in her delirium. The things she'd done, the people she'd hurt. The chaotic nature of her magic and her total loss of control. The weight of seeing past, present, and future all at once; the loneliness of her self-imposed isolation to avoid the pain of feeling the countless lives that would rise and fall across the ages.
She remembers it all, and she is terrified of that future. There is no going back to "business as usual" for her. Not if it's what sends her down that path.
No. She has to start over. Wilhelm was one of her very first friends in Abraxas. She doesn't want to let that rift form between them again. Maybe this is a chance to start over.
"It's a surprise." A peace offering of sorts - the same one he had given her in a time that never was. She smiles lightly, eager to show him, then eyes the bike he has yet to put away. "Should we get this one home first? We don't want Kyle to worry."
She remembers it all, and she is terrified of that future. There is no going back to "business as usual" for her. Not if it's what sends her down that path.
No. She has to start over. Wilhelm was one of her very first friends in Abraxas. She doesn't want to let that rift form between them again. Maybe this is a chance to start over.
"It's a surprise." A peace offering of sorts - the same one he had given her in a time that never was. She smiles lightly, eager to show him, then eyes the bike he has yet to put away. "Should we get this one home first? We don't want Kyle to worry."
"Okay," he agrees, his grin growing. "Kyle doesn't need more reasons to worry."
Returning to the path, Wilhelm leads River back to the carriage house, where the delivery bikes have a corner allotted to them. It's a short trek, and he lets it settle into companionable quiet. He points out some of the flowers to her, passes on their names which he has learned from Lucifer — see, you can tell because of how the petals curl up.
He doesn't know anymore if he remembers this from his real life, hours spent crouched down in the dirt with Lucifer while the archangel carried out his punishment-turned-hobby — or from that other life, in which Lucifer raised a paradise from the once dying Nether.
Once the bike is stowed, he turns to River.
"So where is this surprise you want to show me?"
Returning to the path, Wilhelm leads River back to the carriage house, where the delivery bikes have a corner allotted to them. It's a short trek, and he lets it settle into companionable quiet. He points out some of the flowers to her, passes on their names which he has learned from Lucifer — see, you can tell because of how the petals curl up.
He doesn't know anymore if he remembers this from his real life, hours spent crouched down in the dirt with Lucifer while the archangel carried out his punishment-turned-hobby — or from that other life, in which Lucifer raised a paradise from the once dying Nether.
Once the bike is stowed, he turns to River.
"So where is this surprise you want to show me?"
Kell is miserable to be back in the castle, and Wilhelm knows that there's more to it than mourning Rhy's absence. In leaving Nott, he has given up a measure of freedom to accept a shorter leash. Selfishly, Wilhelm is glad that Kell came back. He doesn't think he could stand staying in this room by himself, drowning in all this vacant space, and he didn't know who else to ask.
Now they can be miserable together. Tipping back another gulp of wine, he sits with his thoughts for a moment. His somber brown eyes settle on his roommate.
"Kell..." His fingernails tap on the side of the copper mug. "Do you ever wish you'd never been brought here?"
The question hurts to ask. Despite the cage of the castle and the crown, this world offers him a freedom that he didn't think he could ever have back home: the freedom to choose his life's path. And despite everything he's been through and everyone he's lost, he still thinks it's worth it.
Now they can be miserable together. Tipping back another gulp of wine, he sits with his thoughts for a moment. His somber brown eyes settle on his roommate.
"Kell..." His fingernails tap on the side of the copper mug. "Do you ever wish you'd never been brought here?"
The question hurts to ask. Despite the cage of the castle and the crown, this world offers him a freedom that he didn't think he could ever have back home: the freedom to choose his life's path. And despite everything he's been through and everyone he's lost, he still thinks it's worth it.
River listens to Wilhelm's chatter in a contented silence as they walk. She knows a lot about plants by way of having an encyclopedic knowledge of many things since early childhood, but it's nice to hear his voice and the general fondness of the memories associated with it - if not for their confusing other life, then at least for Lucifer's presence, something River grew to greatly enjoy in that lost time.
She'll have to start over there too, eventually. A problem for another day; one thing at a time.
"It's in the Horizon." She kind of gives him a meaningful look before glancing around, hinting at the need for privacy. "We could find a garden to hide in, unless you want to go to your room?"
She's seen enough of her own room to last a lifetime at this point, but she wouldn't object to going there if he's uncomfortable with a girl being in his bedroom.
She'll have to start over there too, eventually. A problem for another day; one thing at a time.
"It's in the Horizon." She kind of gives him a meaningful look before glancing around, hinting at the need for privacy. "We could find a garden to hide in, unless you want to go to your room?"
She's seen enough of her own room to last a lifetime at this point, but she wouldn't object to going there if he's uncomfortable with a girl being in his bedroom.
There's a lot to untangle. He holds more memories than should fit in the span of the relationships he's built, and their edges are blurring and running into one another. Time feels like it's been stretched and twisted in impossible shapes, and another version of himself perches in the back of his mind. On top of that, Wilhelm has to sort through the more mundane but no less complex mess of losing, probably forever, someone he loves.
He doesn't know what to do except try to keep pushing forward. Even one step at a time, it's hard.
"Let's go to my room."
As long as River is comfortable with it, he's comfortable too. Despite the imposing castle walls, he would feel too vulnerable falling into the necessary meditative trance out here.
When they arrive, he holds the door for her. Inside, the room is...in about the state you'd expect from a teenage boy left to his own devices for too long. One of the beds, clearly Wilhelm's, is a nest of blankets with discarded clothes crumpled on the floor around it. The nightstand is piled with books, bits of paper smudged with ink, and several pilfered plates and cups from the dining room. By another bed, Kell's things spill out of trunks that he has yet to properly unpack. At least Wilhelm has a place to hang his messenger bag by the door.
"Sorry for the mess," he offers sheepishly as he shows River to the sitting area by the fireplace. The mantle too is cluttered, but perhaps in a more forgivable way, with souvenirs of Wilhelm's time in this world. There's a small menagerie of frogs, including an intricately painted mask, a wooden carving, and a glass figurine.
He doesn't know what to do except try to keep pushing forward. Even one step at a time, it's hard.
"Let's go to my room."
As long as River is comfortable with it, he's comfortable too. Despite the imposing castle walls, he would feel too vulnerable falling into the necessary meditative trance out here.
When they arrive, he holds the door for her. Inside, the room is...in about the state you'd expect from a teenage boy left to his own devices for too long. One of the beds, clearly Wilhelm's, is a nest of blankets with discarded clothes crumpled on the floor around it. The nightstand is piled with books, bits of paper smudged with ink, and several pilfered plates and cups from the dining room. By another bed, Kell's things spill out of trunks that he has yet to properly unpack. At least Wilhelm has a place to hang his messenger bag by the door.
"Sorry for the mess," he offers sheepishly as he shows River to the sitting area by the fireplace. The mantle too is cluttered, but perhaps in a more forgivable way, with souvenirs of Wilhelm's time in this world. There's a small menagerie of frogs, including an intricately painted mask, a wooden carving, and a glass figurine.
"Sometimes."
It's not a reply that he thinks Wilhelm will like, but it's true if overly simplified one. Kell know Wilhelm deserves better than this.
"Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I remember that the precise moment they, Ambrose, Singularity, however that trick works... What matters is that then, I was dying. Bleeding out on the floor of a cage. And I was there as result of many bad choices, mine and others. So, in some sick way, being dragged here could have saved my life."
For what it is worth. In his darkest moments Kell wonders if Rhy is even alive, sort of, back home. Is he there? What Singularity did with the connection it stole from Kell. What he thinks now that he's there and Kell is not. Do they all think he run away? There's no way of knowing, and yet he can't stop himself from thinking about it.
It's not a reply that he thinks Wilhelm will like, but it's true if overly simplified one. Kell know Wilhelm deserves better than this.
"Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I remember that the precise moment they, Ambrose, Singularity, however that trick works... What matters is that then, I was dying. Bleeding out on the floor of a cage. And I was there as result of many bad choices, mine and others. So, in some sick way, being dragged here could have saved my life."
For what it is worth. In his darkest moments Kell wonders if Rhy is even alive, sort of, back home. Is he there? What Singularity did with the connection it stole from Kell. What he thinks now that he's there and Kell is not. Do they all think he run away? There's no way of knowing, and yet he can't stop himself from thinking about it.
Her eyes are wide and curious as she enters his room, looking around and seeing more than just the objects laying around. Places have a way of holding onto the things that happened there, memories and emotions that can linger in the air, and bedrooms tend to be people's most personal sanctum.
Wilhelm has been in Abraxas for a long time, their lost centuries aside. River doesn't know if he's stayed in this same room the whole time, but certainly others have come and gone; maybe she could find the name for his grief if she looked hard enough.
But she doesn't go prying. She goes up to the fireplace instead, eyeing each frog curiously as she drags her fingers across the mantle. There are more memories here too, of course. At least he has some friends to keep him company.
"Mess is a sign of a place that's been lived in." Easy enough to say for someone that doesn't clean her room. She reaches out as though to touch the painted mask, then thinks better of it and turns around to face him again. "Your roommates don't seem to mind, anyway."
Wilhelm has been in Abraxas for a long time, their lost centuries aside. River doesn't know if he's stayed in this same room the whole time, but certainly others have come and gone; maybe she could find the name for his grief if she looked hard enough.
But she doesn't go prying. She goes up to the fireplace instead, eyeing each frog curiously as she drags her fingers across the mantle. There are more memories here too, of course. At least he has some friends to keep him company.
"Mess is a sign of a place that's been lived in." Easy enough to say for someone that doesn't clean her room. She reaches out as though to touch the painted mask, then thinks better of it and turns around to face him again. "Your roommates don't seem to mind, anyway."
Loneliness hangs about the room like smoke. Self-loathing, anxiety, and grief all gather in the corners like dust, things he has shed and grown again and again. But there are lighter emotions fluttering around too. He had loved here, and been loved for a short, bright time. Happiness, hope, belonging, all tentatively taking flight. Desire, floating in a warm cloud around his bed curtains.
He wonders what River is thinking as she peers around his room. He has always gotten the sense that she sees things in a way that nobody else can.
"It's just Kell and me," he says, settling into one of the comfortable armchairs arranged in front of the dark fireplace. There are two other beds in the room. One had belonged to Elrond, his first roommate, nearly a year ago now. The other, Kelson's until recently, has sadness drawn tight around it like a curtain. A moment late, he realizes she might have been talking about the assorted frogs.
"Oh, uh...they get to have a place of honor here, so they can't complain."
He wonders what River is thinking as she peers around his room. He has always gotten the sense that she sees things in a way that nobody else can.
"It's just Kell and me," he says, settling into one of the comfortable armchairs arranged in front of the dark fireplace. There are two other beds in the room. One had belonged to Elrond, his first roommate, nearly a year ago now. The other, Kelson's until recently, has sadness drawn tight around it like a curtain. A moment late, he realizes she might have been talking about the assorted frogs.
"Oh, uh...they get to have a place of honor here, so they can't complain."
His eyebrows fold together, expression crumpling in empathy, as he imagines Kell collapsed in a pool of blood. Kell fading away one jagged breath at a time. It hurts to imagine. His fingers tighten around the mug.
"Then isn't it better that you're here?" he asks softly. It has to be. There was a time, during that brutal first year in this world, when Wilhelm wished he didn't have to exist. He didn't want to feel or think anymore — he wanted to be a perfectly blank space. And even then, he couldn't choose death.
He doesn't know, of course, that the Maresh brothers are bound by one shared fate. Either both live, or both die. That's how it should have been, anyway.
"Then isn't it better that you're here?" he asks softly. It has to be. There was a time, during that brutal first year in this world, when Wilhelm wished he didn't have to exist. He didn't want to feel or think anymore — he wanted to be a perfectly blank space. And even then, he couldn't choose death.
He doesn't know, of course, that the Maresh brothers are bound by one shared fate. Either both live, or both die. That's how it should have been, anyway.
Ah. And there it is, the name coming to her like she could snatch it out of thin air. River never spoke to Kelson herself but she remembers seeing him around, can see the empty space left behind in this room and Wilhelm's broken heart. But there's more here too; there's the warm presence of a friend that moved in in a rush to make sure Wilhelm doesn't wallow in that sadness for too long.
It all feels loosely related, or at least in River's odd way of thinking. They get to have a place of honor here. She smiles faintly and doesn't respond, sitting in the chair opposite of him by the fireplace.
"I want to show you my domain. I have something for you."
There's a quiet note of pride for the fact of having a domain at all after being unable to reach the Horizon for so long, but it's paired with a hint of melancholy for knowing their false life is the reason it feels as easy as breathing now. River eases back into the chair and closes her eyes.
"Don't get lost. Just follow me."
He'd been to her domain in the unreality but it's a little bit different now. She'll wait for him to silently walk through the forest together.
It all feels loosely related, or at least in River's odd way of thinking. They get to have a place of honor here. She smiles faintly and doesn't respond, sitting in the chair opposite of him by the fireplace.
"I want to show you my domain. I have something for you."
There's a quiet note of pride for the fact of having a domain at all after being unable to reach the Horizon for so long, but it's paired with a hint of melancholy for knowing their false life is the reason it feels as easy as breathing now. River eases back into the chair and closes her eyes.
"Don't get lost. Just follow me."
He'd been to her domain in the unreality but it's a little bit different now. She'll wait for him to silently walk through the forest together.
Kell shrugs. It is already bad that his immediate reaction is not Of course it is! I don't want to die. It's a lot more tepid than that. As if he's unable to make himself have a reaction to it anymore.
"Probably." An understatement. That's most likely worst way of phrasing it. He doesn't want to scare Wille. "I mean, it is. I kind of like being alive. I just hate it that it had to be this way."
That's the thing. Kell is not worried about himself. He very rarely ever did. He didn't mind Abraxas all that much as long as Rhy was here with him. Now, that he's gone, Kell can't imagine himself a way, a direction. A purpose.
"I wouldn't have an issue with it so much, if I could just know that he's fine."
Which is yet another problem that tries not to think about.
"Probably." An understatement. That's most likely worst way of phrasing it. He doesn't want to scare Wille. "I mean, it is. I kind of like being alive. I just hate it that it had to be this way."
That's the thing. Kell is not worried about himself. He very rarely ever did. He didn't mind Abraxas all that much as long as Rhy was here with him. Now, that he's gone, Kell can't imagine himself a way, a direction. A purpose.
"I wouldn't have an issue with it so much, if I could just know that he's fine."
Which is yet another problem that tries not to think about.
He doesn't know that the Horizon was once barred to her, doesn't realize just how crowded and noisy a place her mind is. But he can hear the pride shining through her declaration, and he can tell that this is important to her. Maybe it's because he once had to fight to tame his fire, but Wilhelm gets the sense that for her this is the culmination of some sort of struggle.
Closing his eyes and measuring breaths, he slips into the Horizon. Because he affixes River in his mind, he finds himself at the edge of a wood that's not unfamiliar, but not the same as he remembers either. Twilight colors the sky purple and stars begin to peek through.
That's where he sees River, waiting in the gathering shadows, and he catches up to her. In the Horizon, he still wears the sort of clothes he used to wear back home, a polo shirt with a jacket thrown over it, jeans and sneakers, an expensive watch that once belonged to his brother. But there are subtle changes, influenced by his evolving sense of style. The jacket is a little flashier than he would've felt comfortable with a few years ago, deep purple in color. His nails are painted green, much neater than he can manage in real life. And around his neck, he still has the necklace Kelson gave him, a pendant of polished white crystal that looks like the moon, which he never takes off.
"Lead the way, River." He starts to offer his arm, remembering that other life where they knew each other so well, but then he's not sure if she's comfortable with that.
Closing his eyes and measuring breaths, he slips into the Horizon. Because he affixes River in his mind, he finds himself at the edge of a wood that's not unfamiliar, but not the same as he remembers either. Twilight colors the sky purple and stars begin to peek through.
That's where he sees River, waiting in the gathering shadows, and he catches up to her. In the Horizon, he still wears the sort of clothes he used to wear back home, a polo shirt with a jacket thrown over it, jeans and sneakers, an expensive watch that once belonged to his brother. But there are subtle changes, influenced by his evolving sense of style. The jacket is a little flashier than he would've felt comfortable with a few years ago, deep purple in color. His nails are painted green, much neater than he can manage in real life. And around his neck, he still has the necklace Kelson gave him, a pendant of polished white crystal that looks like the moon, which he never takes off.
"Lead the way, River." He starts to offer his arm, remembering that other life where they knew each other so well, but then he's not sure if she's comfortable with that.
He knows at once that Kell is talking about Rhy. In a fucked up way, he's almost lucky that Erik had already died when he came to this world. He doesn't have to worry about the one thing tethering his heart to his old life.
Of course, it never occurred to him that his brother could die until it happened.
But he hasn't had to fret much about what's happening in his absence. He used to feel a little guilty that he was letting his family down once again — letting Erik down. Over time, the guilt surrendered to his growing elation at having the chance to make his own life. Every once in a while he wonders about his parents, who are probably more aggrieved by not having an heir than losing their son. At least, that's what he tells himself.
"I wish you could know too. If Rhy's okay." He sighs. "Some people think that...time stops back home when you're here. Or that there's another version of your home where you're still there and things go on like they're supposed to. I don't know. It's really confusing. I don't know if I believe it."
Of course, it never occurred to him that his brother could die until it happened.
But he hasn't had to fret much about what's happening in his absence. He used to feel a little guilty that he was letting his family down once again — letting Erik down. Over time, the guilt surrendered to his growing elation at having the chance to make his own life. Every once in a while he wonders about his parents, who are probably more aggrieved by not having an heir than losing their son. At least, that's what he tells himself.
"I wish you could know too. If Rhy's okay." He sighs. "Some people think that...time stops back home when you're here. Or that there's another version of your home where you're still there and things go on like they're supposed to. I don't know. It's really confusing. I don't know if I believe it."
It was a point of contention for her, with how beautiful and liberating everyone said it was. She wonders what's different now, if the dream really has changed her and her connection to the Singularity even if it was all a lie.
Now stepping into the Horizon is as easy as a deep exhale, and River appears in a loose, flowy dress that always has the symbol of the Fool etched over her heart. Her feet are bare, unbothered by the dirt and wildlife growing along the underbrush of the forest. And when Wilhelm offers his arm, the way Eddie and Sylvain and so many others had only for her to shy away or evaporate entirely before they could touch her -
Well. Things are different now, and so is she. So she smiles faintly and loops her arm through Wilhelm's the way she would've before she lost herself in Serenity, and then she leads them into the enchanted forest. It's vibrantly alive in color and sound and creatures that glow or shift around in the shadows, trees that sway in the wind and stars that twinkle cheerfully from above.
She doesn't really speak again until they reach their destination, where the waterfalls create a discordant sense of music as water flows through the pools and things land in the water from the forest above. River loves this place, her face immediately lightening just by being here, and she leads Wilhelm to one pool in specific where he might notice some familiar creatures hopping around the rocks.
"Here." She releases his arm to crouch down beside the colorful frogs he had created for her in that alternate reality. She smiles warmly at them, not quite looking in his direction. "They get to have a place of honor."
Now stepping into the Horizon is as easy as a deep exhale, and River appears in a loose, flowy dress that always has the symbol of the Fool etched over her heart. Her feet are bare, unbothered by the dirt and wildlife growing along the underbrush of the forest. And when Wilhelm offers his arm, the way Eddie and Sylvain and so many others had only for her to shy away or evaporate entirely before they could touch her -
Well. Things are different now, and so is she. So she smiles faintly and loops her arm through Wilhelm's the way she would've before she lost herself in Serenity, and then she leads them into the enchanted forest. It's vibrantly alive in color and sound and creatures that glow or shift around in the shadows, trees that sway in the wind and stars that twinkle cheerfully from above.
She doesn't really speak again until they reach their destination, where the waterfalls create a discordant sense of music as water flows through the pools and things land in the water from the forest above. River loves this place, her face immediately lightening just by being here, and she leads Wilhelm to one pool in specific where he might notice some familiar creatures hopping around the rocks.
"Here." She releases his arm to crouch down beside the colorful frogs he had created for her in that alternate reality. She smiles warmly at them, not quite looking in his direction. "They get to have a place of honor."
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