WHO: Istredd, Kell Maresh, Rhy Maresh, Stephen Strange, Yennefer of Vengerberg WHAT: The crew decide to visit the Singularity on the last day of the Dimming WHERE: Sylvcres Island and then DUM DUM DUUUUUM the Singularity WHEN: December 21st
While the preparations for the main event on the island are in full swing, they leave. Kell is haunted by a vague sense of unease with what could, might, possibly happen as a result of their expedition.
He is not convinced their little field trip is a good idea given the current political climate. Not that would prevent him from going. Nothing short of natural disaster would. And maybe not even that. No, this one of the very few chances he can possibly get to see Singularity in person. No matter what happens later, he'll take it, and will deal with the fallout later. He needs to see the Singularity with his own eyes. He needs ... answers, needs to know how it feels to be really close to it. Is it possible to communicate with it? Or is it like the Isle. A source with no will or consciousness of its own. What it did to their Bond. As grateful as he is that it's keeping Rhy alive, he needs to know how. In case... in case of the thing that he tries not to think about.
"What is our plan exactly?"
His question is vague on purpose, and directed to no one in particular. Apart from him and Rhy all the other three have already been involved in Singularity research in one way or the other.
Istredd's entire goal since coming here was to go to the Singularity, and now that they're so close to it, he is feeling energetic and a little twitchy. Anticipation is in the air. It could go badly, yes, but he doesn't think it will, maybe he has faith. Or maybe he's an idiot. Either way, he is unable to look too long at reasons this is a bad idea. As he already told Lucifer, there is nothing anyone could say to stop him from his path now.
They aren't going there long, they don't have a huge amount of time, and he glances over at Kell at the question. "I hate to be the lead of a journey where my only answer is 'we'll see when we get there.' But." Istredd wouldn't really say he's a leader but this was his plan, or lack of plan, his idea. He shrugs. "No one's really visited like this, we have no way of knowing what will actually happen."
That is hardly inspirational though, Istredd. "But if the best happens, we may have a better idea of the Singularity. Maybe even connect with it, on some level." He really hopes it will know they mean no harm, that it can sense that.
His grin supposes more confidence than Kell has at this moment. It's all pretty shaky, but it's a chance. He's not in position to waste chances like that.
"I'm just surprised, that the high mage will just let us go and do whatever, with no instructions for his own research."
The thing is. They - all the Thorne's Summoned - are Ambrose's pet research project. At least, Kell has grown to see this like that. What he heard recently on the ship has only convinced him his assessment is right.
"He isn't letting us do anything. He spoke to Stephen before agreeing to this. We're also bringing a casket with us for Thorne."
So that is much more likely to be the answer. They get to go and in exchange they get Thorne what they need. Perhaps Ambrose knows that they can't do anything, perhaps he trusts that Stephen and Yennefer will keep them under control enough to not destroy the world. Everyone will get something out of this.
Istredd does not know at this point that bringing a casket will come up as a problem for negotiations, because the first day of negotiations is today. When they'll be gone. Luckily by the end of it, there will be no problem with it, but it might make them all go 'yikes' the next two days. Istredd won't, himself. He is doing what he has to for his end goal. It is possible Stephen and Yennefer have been told extra things he has not. He only cares about his part.
"I don't think I have to reiterate with this group that our goal is to treat the Singularity with respect and reverence. No trying to bother it." He assumes they all know that, but still. In case.
Now, that makes a lot more sense. It was wrong for him to assume he would have known everything. It was also a very easy mistake to make. Kell was so used to being in the centre of things, it still feels odd not to be. He's not royalty here. That has good and bad consequences. A lot of things goes way over his head. That he doesn't put effort to gain such information is his own fault. But then, it could bring more scrutiny and attention than he'd like, and Kell is quite happy with his relative obscurity. He's aware it's relative, entirely conditional. There are many things he'd like to do and cannot. But even the relative obscurity is more than he'd ever had. Gives him opportunity to do things, he'd otherwise couldn't. When... and if... he finally decides to do them.
"I've heard about the caskets."
The moment of silence after this completely innocuous comment is evidence enough that it's not innocuous at all.
"Makes one wonder what's inside."
How that's not bothering the Singularity? Feeding it a magical item. Honestly, Kell would rather have everyone leave the Singularity alone. As long as it's keeping his brother alive, he's fine with it. It's far from ideal. Far from being a comfortable situation when he knows so little about it. Knows not what to expect of it. Seen first hand what effect it has on his brother. He'd rather have things as they were. As they are now, he's as much interested in the well-being of that mysterious entity as he is in his own.
It seems like a small price to pay for them to help sneak the group of them off. It is far from altruistic though, Ambrose has wanted to get closer to the Singularity longer than they've been here, and he is going to take opportunities where they crop up. Istredd understands that, being much the same. He had originally thought that they would be able to leave Thorne and do it, which would be far more subtle and easy, rather than this situation. But it is what it is.
"I don't know if anyone found out the last time. There were many of them then, and that conflict is why they're forcing us to stay within sightline for this week."
Istredd does logically understand. A year ago the drama of everyone fighting for the caskets was dangerous. And then the Peace Summit almost went poorly, and Nocwich ended up a disaster, and that's all with the Summoned out and about somehow causing intentional or unintentional chaos. One might say this was a perfectly reasonable response. Just ... unlucky for them. And he hates the ship more than he can say.
"Don't get the idea to crack it open on this trip."
He understands the impulse because he always wants to know what is in things that baffle him. But they have a bigger picture problem. Istredd doesn't ultimately disagree that they should leave the Singularity alone, but he doesn't want to annoy it. Only try to make sense of it.
A year ago, Kell was not there to witness this ... unfortunate, stupid mess. Maybe he would have had a different opinion if he were to witness the events himself. Maybe it's easy for him to judge it as stupid and dangerous from perspective, from his current, comfortable position.
"Don't worry. I plan nothing of the sort."
He's curious, but not an idiot.
Singularity, even slumbering during the Dimming, is a force not to be trifled with. Kell wants to understand it, but he doesn't keep his hopes up. It's a powerful source, but so much different than the one he's used to. The thought brings back the emptiness, the lack he feels from the very beginning here. Void left by the warm glow of the Isle. Its familiar thrum, like the beating of his own heart, now far away. Unreachable. Singularity is a very different source.
"So do I, but I have a feeling it can protect itself." Even when weakened, it's an entity beyond them. He turns his eyes to where the portal will be. Focused. Ready.
Once they're through the portal and ready to journey to the Singularity, Istredd looks at the others, bolstering his courage. This is what he has been working toward since the day he got here. His plan is actually being pulled off thanks to their help and determination. Despite the fact that this could have consequences, he finds himself full only of certainty that they are doing the right thing. They can't wait another year. This may be the only way.
He nods and decides it is his responsibility to go first. His eyes fall on Yennefer for longer, as his gaze always does when she's here. He takes a deep breath and lets it out before stepping inside. Only to immediately be hit with a wave of screeching static noise. It reminds him slightly of Lucifer's mind only more piercing and deliberate.
Istredd stumbles and holds his head as the noise continues, the Singularity responding to a foreign magic user. It doesn't feel like he's dying or being attacked exactly, but he does have to breathe through the pain. Then he makes a mistake.
I'm not an enemy, I swear it! He tries to fling this though along with his sincerity toward the Singularity, but doing so only makes it harsher toward him. It is not a good few minutes for certain, although it does eventually get better and the pressure of it lessens. Once he can actually think again, he looks for the others, to check on them.
Even before they walk into the crater, from the moment the portal spits them out in the vicinity, Rhy can feel it.
It slams into him like an ocean, the rushing waves, the noise and pressure like the atmospheric shift before a heavy storm. Rhy sucks in a sharp breath, rooted for a few long moments to the spot where he'd stepped out. All he can do is stare -- at the monolith that rises from the earth, nestled in the center of the crater, a lighthouse in the turmoil of the sea. A beacon.
If anyone (if Kell) notices, asks him what is wrong, Rhy seems to return to the current moment, shakes his head sharply and lets out a vague mumble about the portal throwing him off. Perhaps it's not surprising he seems in a distracted mood; Kell especially will have noticed because they spend the most time together, but it's fairly obvious in contrast to Rhy's usual friendly, open nature. He's been off, lately. His gaze wandering, his words more clipped and tone sharper. Being in Luna with the festive spirit and new things all around has been far better for him this year than being all alone in a new place, trapped in the castle without any friends or loved ones around, and so the problem isn't so stark -- but he's still felt it, as this day approached. That emptiness. Hunger, irritation, need. He drowns it with alcohol, usually, but for this, he's made sure to arrive sober.
Rhy is quite on the walk down. The pressure seems to grow subtly, a thickness to the air the closer they approach, until he can practically feel the buzz like electricity, like the surface tension right before dunking one's hand into cold water. It is nearly unbearable by the time he reaches out for that heavy, ancient stone -- and yet, he cannot help himself, pulled forward inevitably, irrevocably, until his palm presses flat against smooth plane of the Singularity's side.
He doesn't speak to his companions. Eyes closed, Rhy simply stands there, breathing in the feeling of it, only the finest trembling of his free hand and the tension in his shoulders any sign at all that he hasn't somehow fallen asleep where he stands.
It stirs beneath his touch. Not the physical form of it, but something more, something he can sense and know -- something that knows him. The feeling is almost familiar by now, despite the oddity of it: he is standing here, and he is standing in his mind's eye, an echo of an echo, a mirror from his hand to the Singularity and back. The endless, roaring rush. He is himself and outside of himself, and the Singularity is more and more and more, and in its vastness is the stillest of still water reflecting him in endless space.
At first, it doesn't even occur to him to try to speak with it. It doesn't occur to him to do anything at all, not to think or move or even look with the physical form that is his body in this outer world. A calm washes over him for the first time in days, a sense of connection that almost aches with how desperate he'd been for it.
There's nothing that could have possibly prepared him for ... the sound. The cracking, loud noise at the very edge of pain and discomfort. For someone else, it would probably have been bearable. Kell doesn't deal with pain well. For him, it's like a hammer to the chest.
Whatever grand plans he had before for their trip, it's pretty obvious little of it is possible. He can't concentrate well enough on anything. Anything else than the most important thing: watching over Rhy. That's the only thing he can do, he will do, no matter the pain that comes and goes in waves. It feels as if he can breathe only when it recedes.
Still, he notices. He notices when Rhy firsts sees it, and it freezes him in the spot. Kell tries to ask, but gets barely a response. Rhy's mind is so far away, obviously fixed on the Singularity, he barely seems to see Kell. So Kell does the only thing he can do, he drags himself following Rhy as he walks down to the monolith.
It feels like staring at the vast open sea. Dark waters so deep there's no light reaching below the surface. It's waves coming and going. Only he's not seeing it with his eyes, and it's not the sea. It's a thing, an object. And then there's Rhy with his hand on its surface. Kell can't really separate the sensations, the sea and the monolith. He can recognize the magic behind it. It's nothing like the warm pulse of Isle. It's power, unfeeling and uncaring, a power that does not recognize him. Merely tolerates him. But he's not here for himself. He's here for Rhy. And that thing recognizes Rhy.
For the first time, Kell feels fear. He doesn't dare to try and break Rhy from his daze. Both, because he fears it could hurt Rhy... and that Rhy would not want to. Kell doesn't want to learn it's the second option. So he merely waits.
Some part of him senses Kell beside him. He doesn't need to open his eyes to know it's Kell -- but whether that's because they know each other so well or because of the sense of being able to see more than just himself that's washing over him right now, he doesn't know nor really consider. They are all here in this same vastness, the way particles of dust orbit around the sun.
It's... overwhelming. The thought comes to the surface, slow at first until he becomes aware of it, then more urgent.
It's too much. Too big, too powerful, too far beyond understanding. Julie had reminded him over and over: it doesn't think like a human; it doesn't feel like a human. She hadn't seemed to consider that a bad thing, but impressed the difference upon him any time he tried to assign a human intention to the concept of the Singularity.
Rhy understands what she means now, more than ever. There is so much of it, but instead of feeling full, it somehow makes him just feel emptier.
He asks without quite meaning to. The desire skim across the surface of his mind. It echoes between them.
Release me, he pleads, leaning closer into the smooth surface. His forehead presses to the cold plane of it. Tears cling to his lashes, without falling. Let me be with Kell again. Please.
The wave of icy, sharp displeasure that pushes into his mind catches Rhy entirely by surprise. With a choked cry, Rhy flinches away, yanking his hand from the stone as if burnt. And the stillness is broken.
Kell moves. Even before an intention has formed in his mind, he's already going. Leaping forward to catch Rhy at the first sign of his distress. All previous doubt gone in an instant. Washed away by what is always his first impulse. To protect Rhy from any danger or discomfort. Kell pushes past the pain and almost animalistic instinct to move away from this alien thing. But Rhy needs him, so he's going.
It's too much for words, Kell wouldn't know what to say anyway, but at least he can hold Rhy. So he tries, if only Rhy will let him.
Rhy does let him, though at first he's stiff and shaking -- starts to struggle, and then stops. His breathing comes out ragged and uneven. He blinks back tears that do not fall, and tries to get his voice back for a long minute.
"I-I'm okay..." Physically, he seems to be telling the truth. Just shaken, and more than a little unnerved.
There's no longer a connection between them to transmit all of their emotions and sensations between, but Kell can swear that he can feel Rhy's distress in his own bones. Holds him all through the shaking and the struggle.
"Good." Kell agrees, even if he does not believe. His doubts would not help, so he just bends down to leave a kiss on Rhy's forehead. "It's alright," he whispers. "I'm here."
He'd prefer to simply teleport them away from this place. Right now. Having learned how unreliable his world-crossing skills are here, he decides not to. If it's bad in Thorne, it must be even worse so close to Singularity.
He is here. He's here, and they're together, and that's all that matters. That is thanks to the Singularity too, Rhy knows. He is so acutely aware, and in that moment, feels ashamed he'd asked for more.
It doesn't think like a human, Julie kept telling him. But it does have some semblance of feelings. It can be hurt.
Rhy swallows thickly, waiting for the pounding in his head to settle before slowly trying to extricate himself from Kell's arms.
Kell doesn't want to let him go. Worry written all over his face. Worry that Rhy is just putting up the brave face, worry that he would go back to the Singularity to continue that ... conversation he was having with the thing. About whatever it was that had shaken him so much.
But eventually, he does let go.
"Alright."
Kell shots one last look back at the monolith. Fearful? Angry? Both? Even he can't decide at this moment. Not with this noise coming in and out in waves. It was unpleasant at first. Now it's just painful.
He knows Kell doesn't want to let him go. Rhy takes a shaky breath, and gently takes his adopted brother's hand, pulling it away from his arm. Holding it for just a moment, giving him a squeeze.
"I'm not done. And we need to wait for Stephen to finish with the casket as well."
It isn't difficult to know that's not what Kell wants to hear. But unfortunately, Rhy just can't leave, not feeling like he's done something wrong and possibly jeopardized the his already tenuous relationship with the unknowable force that's keeping him tethered to this plane.
He approaches again, leaving Kell to wait.
Eventually, everyone is finished with their respective tasks. With the casket having been fed to the Singularity, Rhy already begins to feel a difference, small though it is to start. He returns to Kell's side for the walk back, emotionally and somehow even physically drained, but doesn't share with him what happened. Not until later.
Later, when they are alone, he can tell Kell what happened. How he asked, trying to see if the Singularity had any control over their connection -- only to find that he still doesn't know if it does, only that it definitely doesn't want to let go of it.
On the one hand, Rhy thinks it should be a relief. Kell doesn't have to share his life anymore; he's free to do as he wishes, without worrying how it will affect Rhy physically. They're no worse off than where they started when Kell arrived here.
Unfortunately, Rhy is now quite sure he cannot leave this place, not unless they're certain of the Singularity's influence on their own world, and whether it's strong enough to sustain him.
And there's one more thing, something he keeps to himself, something he doesn't tell even Kell -- but when they come back to their cabins on the ship, he lies awake for a long time and wonders. Wonders if he has to stay here forever, and if forever will be very literal. If he is destined to watch everyone around him move on and pass away, and he'll be stuck, tethered to the endless force as old as magic itself.
Istredd is not at his best when they finally return back from the Singularity. The experience is overwhelming for him, although part of that is his own fault for trying to magically connect with the Singularity. He is left with a fairly bad headache and also his mind isn't helping with that, so curious about what happened and what this could mean.
He looks very pale but not disappointed or upset, more shell-shocked than anything else. That fire of curiosity has gone no where. He trusts that Stephen can handle the casket secretly, they don't want the attention for it.
"Just ... give me a few minutes before going back to the ship," he begs. It's not because there is anything really wrong, more that he hates being seasick and on top of this, it seems like a bad idea. Plus he has to pretend to have not just been on a secret adventure, and he isn't going to be great at that.
"We survived." He hadn't really shared his concerns that there was always the possibility the Singularity could kill them. It is very powerful! It's always a risk.
Rhy also seems a little dazed. He's been very quiet this whole trip, and had been the last one to leave, even after he'd flinched back from the Singularity at one point (though he hasn't shared why). He'd lingered in the crater until everyone else was up, and finally clambered back toward the portal with a sense of regretful longing he can't quite shake. It still pulls him, a magnet at his back.
Istredd's problems are something of a distraction he latches onto.
"Yes, although there was definitely a brief moment I thought the Singularity was going to burst my head open."
The magic users had a particularly rough time upon the first entrance, although obviously it did pass! Istredd made it worse on himself, that's all. He isn't upset about it in the least, the Singularity had every reason to react any way it wished to interlopers. That is why he mentioned being glad they survived. It was a very, very low chance in his mind that anything bad would actually happen, but Istredd is someone who thinks about all possibilities.
"All is well, it was just new." Istredd has never interacted with power like that or an alien situation. It is the type of overwhelming that will feed his energy once he bounces back. "How are you? Did you still feel your connection to it?"
It seemed it had really hurt Istredd. And not just him. But Istredd still looks like it's taken a lot out of him.
Rhy isn't sure how obvious it is to everyone else how differently touching the Singularity had affected him. He's still reeling too, but in an entirely different way.
It was really his own fault and he knows that now. Most people would know better than to push when they are already being funneled pain as a warning. Sometimes he really can be a fool. It was a risk worth taking though. If he'd gotten what he wanted, a momentary mental connection, it would have been very worth it. He doesn't regret trying, although his lingering headache is a mild regret.
"Good, you'll have to let me know if once it's back to full strength, if you notice anything else new." If Rhy feels comfortable sharing of course. It's only because Istredd wonders if this would solidify Rhy's connection, if the Singularity will be glad that one of its chosen came there.
He manages to get his wits about him long enough to send Lucifer a mental message. He knows he's upset his friend and will deal with that once he gets back to the cabin. "Thank you for coming with me."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
into the unknown (pre-singularity)
Re: into the unknown (pre-singularity)
He is not convinced their little field trip is a good idea given the current political climate. Not that would prevent him from going. Nothing short of natural disaster would. And maybe not even that. No, this one of the very few chances he can possibly get to see Singularity in person. No matter what happens later, he'll take it, and will deal with the fallout later. He needs to see the Singularity with his own eyes. He needs ... answers, needs to know how it feels to be really close to it. Is it possible to communicate with it? Or is it like the Isle. A source with no will or consciousness of its own. What it did to their Bond. As grateful as he is that it's keeping Rhy alive, he needs to know how. In case... in case of the thing that he tries not to think about.
"What is our plan exactly?"
His question is vague on purpose, and directed to no one in particular. Apart from him and Rhy all the other three have already been involved in Singularity research in one way or the other.
no subject
They aren't going there long, they don't have a huge amount of time, and he glances over at Kell at the question. "I hate to be the lead of a journey where my only answer is 'we'll see when we get there.' But." Istredd wouldn't really say he's a leader but this was his plan, or lack of plan, his idea. He shrugs. "No one's really visited like this, we have no way of knowing what will actually happen."
That is hardly inspirational though, Istredd. "But if the best happens, we may have a better idea of the Singularity. Maybe even connect with it, on some level." He really hopes it will know they mean no harm, that it can sense that.
no subject
His grin supposes more confidence than Kell has at this moment. It's all pretty shaky, but it's a chance. He's not in position to waste chances like that.
"I'm just surprised, that the high mage will just let us go and do whatever, with no instructions for his own research."
The thing is. They - all the Thorne's Summoned - are Ambrose's pet research project. At least, Kell has grown to see this like that. What he heard recently on the ship has only convinced him his assessment is right.
no subject
So that is much more likely to be the answer. They get to go and in exchange they get Thorne what they need. Perhaps Ambrose knows that they can't do anything, perhaps he trusts that Stephen and Yennefer will keep them under control enough to not destroy the world. Everyone will get something out of this.
Istredd does not know at this point that bringing a casket will come up as a problem for negotiations, because the first day of negotiations is today. When they'll be gone. Luckily by the end of it, there will be no problem with it, but it might make them all go 'yikes' the next two days. Istredd won't, himself. He is doing what he has to for his end goal. It is possible Stephen and Yennefer have been told extra things he has not. He only cares about his part.
"I don't think I have to reiterate with this group that our goal is to treat the Singularity with respect and reverence. No trying to bother it." He assumes they all know that, but still. In case.
no subject
Now, that makes a lot more sense. It was wrong for him to assume he would have known everything. It was also a very easy mistake to make. Kell was so used to being in the centre of things, it still feels odd not to be. He's not royalty here. That has good and bad consequences. A lot of things goes way over his head. That he doesn't put effort to gain such information is his own fault. But then, it could bring more scrutiny and attention than he'd like, and Kell is quite happy with his relative obscurity.
He's aware it's relative, entirely conditional. There are many things he'd like to do and cannot. But even the relative obscurity is more than he'd ever had. Gives him opportunity to do things, he'd otherwise couldn't. When... and if... he finally decides to do them.
"I've heard about the caskets."
The moment of silence after this completely innocuous comment is evidence enough that it's not innocuous at all.
"Makes one wonder what's inside."
How that's not bothering the Singularity? Feeding it a magical item. Honestly, Kell would rather have everyone leave the Singularity alone. As long as it's keeping his brother alive, he's fine with it. It's far from ideal. Far from being a comfortable situation when he knows so little about it. Knows not what to expect of it. Seen first hand what effect it has on his brother. He'd rather have things as they were. As they are now, he's as much interested in the well-being of that mysterious entity as he is in his own.
no subject
"I don't know if anyone found out the last time. There were many of them then, and that conflict is why they're forcing us to stay within sightline for this week."
Istredd does logically understand. A year ago the drama of everyone fighting for the caskets was dangerous. And then the Peace Summit almost went poorly, and Nocwich ended up a disaster, and that's all with the Summoned out and about somehow causing intentional or unintentional chaos. One might say this was a perfectly reasonable response. Just ... unlucky for them. And he hates the ship more than he can say.
"Don't get the idea to crack it open on this trip."
He understands the impulse because he always wants to know what is in things that baffle him. But they have a bigger picture problem. Istredd doesn't ultimately disagree that they should leave the Singularity alone, but he doesn't want to annoy it. Only try to make sense of it.
wrap on yours? they will be busy anyway
"Don't worry. I plan nothing of the sort."
He's curious, but not an idiot.
Singularity, even slumbering during the Dimming, is a force not to be trifled with. Kell wants to understand it, but he doesn't keep his hopes up. It's a powerful source, but so much different than the one he's used to. The thought brings back the emptiness, the lack he feels from the very beginning here. Void left by the warm glow of the Isle. Its familiar thrum, like the beating of his own heart, now far away. Unreachable.
Singularity is a very different source.
"I just hope we're not disturbing it."
wrap there!
one hell of a headache (at the singularity)
OTA
He nods and decides it is his responsibility to go first. His eyes fall on Yennefer for longer, as his gaze always does when she's here. He takes a deep breath and lets it out before stepping inside. Only to immediately be hit with a wave of screeching static noise. It reminds him slightly of Lucifer's mind only more piercing and deliberate.
Istredd stumbles and holds his head as the noise continues, the Singularity responding to a foreign magic user. It doesn't feel like he's dying or being attacked exactly, but he does have to breathe through the pain. Then he makes a mistake.
I'm not an enemy, I swear it! He tries to fling this though along with his sincerity toward the Singularity, but doing so only makes it harsher toward him. It is not a good few minutes for certain, although it does eventually get better and the pressure of it lessens. Once he can actually think again, he looks for the others, to check on them.
open.
Even before they walk into the crater, from the moment the portal spits them out in the vicinity, Rhy can feel it.
It slams into him like an ocean, the rushing waves, the noise and pressure like the atmospheric shift before a heavy storm. Rhy sucks in a sharp breath, rooted for a few long moments to the spot where he'd stepped out. All he can do is stare -- at the monolith that rises from the earth, nestled in the center of the crater, a lighthouse in the turmoil of the sea. A beacon.
If anyone (if Kell) notices, asks him what is wrong, Rhy seems to return to the current moment, shakes his head sharply and lets out a vague mumble about the portal throwing him off. Perhaps it's not surprising he seems in a distracted mood; Kell especially will have noticed because they spend the most time together, but it's fairly obvious in contrast to Rhy's usual friendly, open nature. He's been off, lately. His gaze wandering, his words more clipped and tone sharper. Being in Luna with the festive spirit and new things all around has been far better for him this year than being all alone in a new place, trapped in the castle without any friends or loved ones around, and so the problem isn't so stark -- but he's still felt it, as this day approached. That emptiness. Hunger, irritation, need. He drowns it with alcohol, usually, but for this, he's made sure to arrive sober.
Rhy is quite on the walk down. The pressure seems to grow subtly, a thickness to the air the closer they approach, until he can practically feel the buzz like electricity, like the surface tension right before dunking one's hand into cold water. It is nearly unbearable by the time he reaches out for that heavy, ancient stone -- and yet, he cannot help himself, pulled forward inevitably, irrevocably, until his palm presses flat against smooth plane of the Singularity's side.
He doesn't speak to his companions. Eyes closed, Rhy simply stands there, breathing in the feeling of it, only the finest trembling of his free hand and the tension in his shoulders any sign at all that he hasn't somehow fallen asleep where he stands.
It stirs beneath his touch. Not the physical form of it, but something more, something he can sense and know -- something that knows him. The feeling is almost familiar by now, despite the oddity of it: he is standing here, and he is standing in his mind's eye, an echo of an echo, a mirror from his hand to the Singularity and back. The endless, roaring rush. He is himself and outside of himself, and the Singularity is more and more and more, and in its vastness is the stillest of still water reflecting him in endless space.
At first, it doesn't even occur to him to try to speak with it. It doesn't occur to him to do anything at all, not to think or move or even look with the physical form that is his body in this outer world. A calm washes over him for the first time in days, a sense of connection that almost aches with how desperate he'd been for it.
Rhy doesn't move for a very long time.
now for the pain train
Whatever grand plans he had before for their trip, it's pretty obvious little of it is possible. He can't concentrate well enough on anything. Anything else than the most important thing: watching over Rhy. That's the only thing he can do, he will do, no matter the pain that comes and goes in waves. It feels as if he can breathe only when it recedes.
Still, he notices. He notices when Rhy firsts sees it, and it freezes him in the spot. Kell tries to ask, but gets barely a response. Rhy's mind is so far away, obviously fixed on the Singularity, he barely seems to see Kell. So Kell does the only thing he can do, he drags himself following Rhy as he walks down to the monolith.
It feels like staring at the vast open sea. Dark waters so deep there's no light reaching below the surface. It's waves coming and going. Only he's not seeing it with his eyes, and it's not the sea. It's a thing, an object. And then there's Rhy with his hand on its surface.
Kell can't really separate the sensations, the sea and the monolith. He can recognize the magic behind it. It's nothing like the warm pulse of Isle. It's power, unfeeling and uncaring, a power that does not recognize him. Merely tolerates him.
But he's not here for himself. He's here for Rhy. And that thing recognizes Rhy.
For the first time, Kell feels fear. He doesn't dare to try and break Rhy from his daze. Both, because he fears it could hurt Rhy... and that Rhy would not want to. Kell doesn't want to learn it's the second option. So he merely waits.
no subject
It's... overwhelming. The thought comes to the surface, slow at first until he becomes aware of it, then more urgent.
It's too much. Too big, too powerful, too far beyond understanding. Julie had reminded him over and over: it doesn't think like a human; it doesn't feel like a human. She hadn't seemed to consider that a bad thing, but impressed the difference upon him any time he tried to assign a human intention to the concept of the Singularity.
Rhy understands what she means now, more than ever. There is so much of it, but instead of feeling full, it somehow makes him just feel emptier.
He asks without quite meaning to. The desire skim across the surface of his mind. It echoes between them.
Release me, he pleads, leaning closer into the smooth surface. His forehead presses to the cold plane of it. Tears cling to his lashes, without falling. Let me be with Kell again. Please.
The wave of icy, sharp displeasure that pushes into his mind catches Rhy entirely by surprise. With a choked cry, Rhy flinches away, yanking his hand from the stone as if burnt. And the stillness is broken.
no subject
It's too much for words, Kell wouldn't know what to say anyway, but at least he can hold Rhy. So he tries, if only Rhy will let him.
no subject
"I-I'm okay..." Physically, he seems to be telling the truth. Just shaken, and more than a little unnerved.
He understands now. What he wants isn't possible.
He almost feels like he needs to apologize to it.
no subject
"Good." Kell agrees, even if he does not believe. His doubts would not help, so he just bends down to leave a kiss on Rhy's forehead. "It's alright," he whispers. "I'm here."
He'd prefer to simply teleport them away from this place. Right now. Having learned how unreliable his world-crossing skills are here, he decides not to. If it's bad in Thorne, it must be even worse so close to Singularity.
no subject
It doesn't think like a human, Julie kept telling him. But it does have some semblance of feelings. It can be hurt.
Rhy swallows thickly, waiting for the pounding in his head to settle before slowly trying to extricate himself from Kell's arms.
"It's okay, Kell. I'm fine."
no subject
Kell doesn't want to let him go. Worry written all over his face. Worry that Rhy is just putting up the brave face, worry that he would go back to the Singularity to continue that ... conversation he was having with the thing. About whatever it was that had shaken him so much.
But eventually, he does let go.
"Alright."
Kell shots one last look back at the monolith. Fearful? Angry? Both? Even he can't decide at this moment. Not with this noise coming in and out in waves. It was unpleasant at first. Now it's just painful.
"Had enough?"
He definitely had.
no subject
He knows Kell doesn't want to let him go. Rhy takes a shaky breath, and gently takes his adopted brother's hand, pulling it away from his arm. Holding it for just a moment, giving him a squeeze.
"I'm not done. And we need to wait for Stephen to finish with the casket as well."
It isn't difficult to know that's not what Kell wants to hear. But unfortunately, Rhy just can't leave, not feeling like he's done something wrong and possibly jeopardized the his already tenuous relationship with the unknowable force that's keeping him tethered to this plane.
He approaches again, leaving Kell to wait.
Eventually, everyone is finished with their respective tasks. With the casket having been fed to the Singularity, Rhy already begins to feel a difference, small though it is to start. He returns to Kell's side for the walk back, emotionally and somehow even physically drained, but doesn't share with him what happened. Not until later.
Later, when they are alone, he can tell Kell what happened. How he asked, trying to see if the Singularity had any control over their connection -- only to find that he still doesn't know if it does, only that it definitely doesn't want to let go of it.
On the one hand, Rhy thinks it should be a relief. Kell doesn't have to share his life anymore; he's free to do as he wishes, without worrying how it will affect Rhy physically. They're no worse off than where they started when Kell arrived here.
Unfortunately, Rhy is now quite sure he cannot leave this place, not unless they're certain of the Singularity's influence on their own world, and whether it's strong enough to sustain him.
And there's one more thing, something he keeps to himself, something he doesn't tell even Kell -- but when they come back to their cabins on the ship, he lies awake for a long time and wonders. Wonders if he has to stay here forever, and if forever will be very literal. If he is destined to watch everyone around him move on and pass away, and he'll be stuck, tethered to the endless force as old as magic itself.
well we survived there's that (post-singularity)
OTA
He looks very pale but not disappointed or upset, more shell-shocked than anything else. That fire of curiosity has gone no where. He trusts that Stephen can handle the casket secretly, they don't want the attention for it.
"Just ... give me a few minutes before going back to the ship," he begs. It's not because there is anything really wrong, more that he hates being seasick and on top of this, it seems like a bad idea. Plus he has to pretend to have not just been on a secret adventure, and he isn't going to be great at that.
"We survived." He hadn't really shared his concerns that there was always the possibility the Singularity could kill them. It is very powerful! It's always a risk.
no subject
Istredd's problems are something of a distraction he latches onto.
"Are you all right?"
...why does he sound surprised they survived?
no subject
The magic users had a particularly rough time upon the first entrance, although obviously it did pass! Istredd made it worse on himself, that's all. He isn't upset about it in the least, the Singularity had every reason to react any way it wished to interlopers. That is why he mentioned being glad they survived. It was a very, very low chance in his mind that anything bad would actually happen, but Istredd is someone who thinks about all possibilities.
"All is well, it was just new." Istredd has never interacted with power like that or an alien situation. It is the type of overwhelming that will feed his energy once he bounces back. "How are you? Did you still feel your connection to it?"
no subject
Rhy isn't sure how obvious it is to everyone else how differently touching the Singularity had affected him. He's still reeling too, but in an entirely different way.
"I'm all right. And yes. I do."
no subject
"Good, you'll have to let me know if once it's back to full strength, if you notice anything else new." If Rhy feels comfortable sharing of course. It's only because Istredd wonders if this would solidify Rhy's connection, if the Singularity will be glad that one of its chosen came there.
He manages to get his wits about him long enough to send Lucifer a mental message. He knows he's upset his friend and will deal with that once he gets back to the cabin. "Thank you for coming with me."