Ronan doesn't make another move, letting the orb do its work. It needs nothing else from him, already dreamt so perfectly for its purpose.
It's a mindfuck. There's no avoiding it once it's detonated, its sparkling dust clinging like frost on Rhy's bronze skin. He can hold his breath, but that won't save him. He can shut his eyes, but that won't save him. It's already too late to run. The bewildering magic began dazzling Rhy before the thought to run could reach his legs.
Ronan waits until Rhy's panic has evaporated, along with everything else that occupied his mind just moments ago. Then he steps forward, the crease between his eyebrows etched with both pity and apology.
"You're alright," he gently assures Rhy, though the gesture is mostly for himself. Rhy has no space to question anymore whether he's alright or not. Ronan pulls him into a tight embrace, then eases him down onto one of the couches. It's not so unusual for the Summoned to meditate here, and from the outside, Rhy looks as though he's crossed into the Horizon. Ronan brushes away the dust that hasn't already vanished, then straightens and steps back to survey his work.
It's hard not to be hurt by Rhy's reaction, but at least it's gone now, along with the memory of the conversation that inspired it. Maybe Ronan can try again later to make him understand. Or maybe Rhy was never built to understand him.
Ronan sighs and turns away, slipping out of the room.
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It's a mindfuck. There's no avoiding it once it's detonated, its sparkling dust clinging like frost on Rhy's bronze skin. He can hold his breath, but that won't save him. He can shut his eyes, but that won't save him. It's already too late to run. The bewildering magic began dazzling Rhy before the thought to run could reach his legs.
Ronan waits until Rhy's panic has evaporated, along with everything else that occupied his mind just moments ago. Then he steps forward, the crease between his eyebrows etched with both pity and apology.
"You're alright," he gently assures Rhy, though the gesture is mostly for himself. Rhy has no space to question anymore whether he's alright or not. Ronan pulls him into a tight embrace, then eases him down onto one of the couches. It's not so unusual for the Summoned to meditate here, and from the outside, Rhy looks as though he's crossed into the Horizon. Ronan brushes away the dust that hasn't already vanished, then straightens and steps back to survey his work.
It's hard not to be hurt by Rhy's reaction, but at least it's gone now, along with the memory of the conversation that inspired it. Maybe Ronan can try again later to make him understand. Or maybe Rhy was never built to understand him.
Ronan sighs and turns away, slipping out of the room.