You know... I serve now as the knife, so that others can remain guardians. I have known both lives.
[ What he cannot tell Nebula, he realizes, is what he became after he was a guardian.
( A monster. A slaughterer of women and children, for no reason other than that he was weak and frightened and shattered and left to mourn himself, unable to strike against the man who had ripped him apart and left him to rebuild himself. To not even be able to do it right, or completely. )
He does pull his hand back, but no offense is taken. Everything about her is harsh and beautiful, and her resolve pricks in the back of his eyes and against the swallow of his throat. This is what he looks for, in people. Hayame embodies it so thoroughly, the strength of a warrior and the steadfastness of someone with honor, but the ability to do what they must, for people.
He wishes he was still like those two women. ( That he could articulate his admiration for them. That he could tell them: you are like my sister, my best friend, whom was once my greatest ally, and be without the mournful truth, that even his sister had turned her back on him when he needed her most. ) ]
Then, I will be honest with you in a way that I am not honest with those who I have taught to expect the worst of me: my only target is Yima. Not the people of Highstorm. But, I will mourn their deaths as they happen in war, once the war is over. And I will honor their endings, only when we can rest among those who are depending on us to be their protectors. To not give up. Because it is not about how much we lost.
[ Until then, he cannot flinch. Will not flinch. ]
Thank you, Nebula. I may not be a guardian god anymore, but you remind me what it was, to be one.
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[ What he cannot tell Nebula, he realizes, is what he became after he was a guardian.
( A monster. A slaughterer of women and children, for no reason other than that he was weak and frightened and shattered and left to mourn himself, unable to strike against the man who had ripped him apart and left him to rebuild himself. To not even be able to do it right, or completely. )
He does pull his hand back, but no offense is taken. Everything about her is harsh and beautiful, and her resolve pricks in the back of his eyes and against the swallow of his throat. This is what he looks for, in people. Hayame embodies it so thoroughly, the strength of a warrior and the steadfastness of someone with honor, but the ability to do what they must, for people.
He wishes he was still like those two women. ( That he could articulate his admiration for them. That he could tell them: you are like my sister, my best friend, whom was once my greatest ally, and be without the mournful truth, that even his sister had turned her back on him when he needed her most. ) ]
Then, I will be honest with you in a way that I am not honest with those who I have taught to expect the worst of me: my only target is Yima. Not the people of Highstorm. But, I will mourn their deaths as they happen in war, once the war is over. And I will honor their endings, only when we can rest among those who are depending on us to be their protectors. To not give up. Because it is not about how much we lost.
[ Until then, he cannot flinch. Will not flinch. ]
Thank you, Nebula. I may not be a guardian god anymore, but you remind me what it was, to be one.