Despite knocking a Damnation into freefall providing us with safety that should be reassuring, the flight back to Mount Solace is anything but. We’re more a loose collection of saddened somber gliders aimed in a vague direction. Well, most of us. Shiz can’t stop shaking his head the entire time, in utter disbelief that I’d knocked a Damnation out of the sky in less than six seconds. I’ve no idea what Leezahna thinks at the moment, but Ixeyla has been silent along her own mental wavelengths.
Zayzi thankfully, is almost excited, almost. Honestly, based on their usual dialogue, they sound nearly ecstatic across our mental wavelengths, “Schism. You’re safe. Good. Did good. We’re safe. Lost three, sixty three maybe. But you saved lots. Saved Ixey, saved me, us. Thank you.”
Sighing to myself I try to smile across our mental wavelength to reassure Xayla and express gratitude, “You’re right Zayzi, thank you. I—. I still feel bad for the three we lost. The sixty three. That’s going to sting for a while. I’m glad you’re physically alright. Are you okay though? I mean, as much as you can be.”
Their telepathic emphatic nod is answer enough for me to believe Xayla is doing rather well. I’m grateful for their friendship, even if they’re a dragon of few words. Maybe I should bond with Ixeyla sometime and find out if Xayla has always been abrupt, curt, succinct. I should focus on figuring out what the hell I’m going to do with the rest of the day so that I don’t dwell on this. Let’s see. Who’s where right now?
Illy’s up at the far end of the convoy, Farzie and Veril are up there with her. Boetah and Shaylon are in the middle of our flight path. I’m back here with Shiz, Ixey, Zayzi, and Leeza. I wonder if giving her a nickname would just piss her off more. Is it bad that I kind of want to for how much of a brat she was? It makes me feel pretty horrible, since I already bullied her. I’d rather be on her good side anyway, just as a person in general. I hate to have hurt people or their feelings. Huff, anyway. Where was I?
Oh, right. At home should be Te, Lucky, Nala, Pawn, Del, Yerjhro, Yui and Yuri, all eight strategists, Greggy, Revvy, Kagired, the Queens, and Induul. Lil, Kinzul, Luni, and all four Vivant are at some place called Laotzxhi Citadel. I’m so worried that Kinzul’s group’s assault might be going poorly. We had gotten incorrect, or at least inadequate, intelligence on several of our offensives so far which left us underestimating our foes on multiple occasions.
I should try not to let that worry bleed through into my expressions or thoughts though. I need to project confidence for the Order of the Onyx Dawn’s members and the denizens of Mount Solace. If it were up to me, I’d never be in the spotlight, or even really known for my actions, but I understand the necessity of reassurances. Panic and fear could ruin a situation like ours in Mount Solace. We have to put a positive spin on any losses, which sickens me. Instead of telling everyone, “I’ve failed you and let three of our volunteers, and sixty refugees die,” I have to say, “I pushed back the Damnations and saved several hundred refugees, and the dragon volunteers carrying them!”
Hell, I hope I never buy into my own hype. Sure, I’m idealistic in a lot of ways, but I’m cynical about loudmouth braggarts for starters. There’s a few other things that I’m cynical about too, but let’s not get sidetracked. Sidetracked from what Reggie? Oh, I, uh, um. I don’t remember. Hah, goober. Oh screw you. No screw you. Wait. Yep? Huff. Yeah, just realized, didn’t ya? Yes. Yes I did. Huff. I roll my eyes at myself.
Drawing a deep breath, I pass it out through pursed lips with puffed cheeks. I really, truly hope I’m not psychologically cracking. If I were any less sane, I’d be an immense danger. There’s a *lot* of power flowing through Reggie Shellcracker. I—.
Distracting me, Illy quips, “There’s a lot of *something* flowing through Reggie Shellcracker at least. Heh. Seriously Schism, your brain is all over the place. I slowed down to check on your gremlin munchkin crimson-smurf-ass ass, worried about you, because word up the line was that the Damnations showed up, and then the word was they were gone, the very next message. What the hell you ass?”
Teasing Illy in return for what she hinted at, “Oh I bet you’d like that *something* to be flowing through someone else, huh? Tsk tsk, naughty gal. Apparently I know *where* you want it to be flowing to too. You and that favorite bodypart of yours. My word, just like Prinny, such a deviant—“
Flustered almost beyond belief, Illy cuts me off, “You—, I—, you! Ooo! I hate that you’re so good at that! Ugh, okay, that’s a lie. I friggin’ love it. You’re an ass. You know that? Also, shut up, I know I used it again. Ugh. Jerkass crimson-smurf-ass ass. Seriously though. I literally heard, ‘Damnations! Everybody run!’ then ‘Oh, they’re gone. Schism knocked one out,’ a few seconds later. Are you okay? Seriously, no crap. Are you okay? Everything, physically, emotionally, soul or spirit or whatever, everything. We, I mean, um, y’know. I love you ya stupid-ass ass.”
I can’t help snorting a laugh as Illy continues to repeatedly fall into the trap of using her favorite word. Still, I telepathically respond, “I’m not sure yet Illy. We lost Shapuackurt, Lilmbrayur, and Heccinckethmorn. I didn’t even really know them, so it doesn’t hit as hard as I feel like it should, which makes me feel worse. We also lost sixty refugees, which just feels like a number, which feels even worse for feeling that way. I can never get over loss of life. It all just piles on and piles on.”
Sighing, I start listing examples, “Thousands of lives on Can’Z’aas weren’t necessarily my responsibility, but they died, and I have time traveling powers, and I didn’t save them. I can’t forgive the me that I was throughout the timeline that couldn’t figure out a way to both save them, and preserve this current flow of time. That’s not to mention the ones I directly slew. Then there were Aasimovians and kobolds that I failed to save on several occasions, and the entire Derbrightmine Dominion dwar—.”
I could cry when Illy interrupts me, “Oh those guys? They dug deep, super deep. The leaders sacced themselves, erm, sacrificed themselves, Donny and Paulette or something? Spymaster was keeping tabs on the situation, because we needed to decide if we could be ready to go fully on the offensive despite having portents saying it wasn’t time, since Astridus and Olashax were making overt moves. I—. My sister was a, was a—. Wow, it just hit me. She *was*. She’s dead. That ass. I—. Oh Schism. She’s dead. She’s really gone. I hate her for it, despise her for it. Why am I crying?”
My heart wrenches for Iylynila, because I know that feeling so very well. There are things I hate Mataalii for, things that were utterly despicable, and I slew him, once. The fact that he’s alive somewhere, somewhat repentant, but essentially out of the picture, basically dead to me, I don’t even know how to—, glp, it’s not about me. Illy needs me right now. I bottle up everything from today and shove it aside.
Calling out to her, I hazard a guess, “She probably didn’t start evil, right? Kinzul said something about—, well, Kinzul was full of wrath when she ordered me to kill Olashax. I think her words were something like slay him and feast on him for poisoning my daughter to me, or something like that. I mean, I guess no one really starts out evil, but anyone raised by Ki—.”
“She wasn’t though. She wasn’t raised by mom, by mother. She was a clutch taken by Terrorzin, *Olashax* raised her. That vile wretch. We’d only even met a few times over our lifetimes, and it was always bad, she was never good. Obedient? Sure, to *them*. But good? Never. But—. Schism, Reggie, I don’t like this. I don’t want to feel sad about her. It hurts. I’m scared of these stupid-ass feelings. I—. I think, I think I need you. Ugh, I hate that. Now I sound like a needy-ass codependent little wyrmling whelp.”
Shaking my head telepathically I respond, “No, no you don’t sound that way at all. You sound like someone who lost a family member and is dealing with heavy emotions that you weren’t prepared for. I’m not even sure anyone can really prepare for those specific emotions. Also, hey, don’t knock being codependent, you should talk to the rest of my inner circle about how batcrap crazy I go if I’m left alone without someone in my head for even a few days. I love you Illy, it’s okay to need someone when you’re going through some hard spots emotionally, or dealing with a trauma, or even just realizing something is traumatic that you didn’t think would be.”
Grumbling, Illy sends back, “Stupid gremlin munchkin crimson-smurf-ass ass. Stop being so reasonable and, and, and kind, and friggin’, ugh, I hate you. I hate me. I hate this. I’m sorry. I don’t really hate you. I need you, but I need some time to not need you. I don’t want to be like *that*. I don’t want *it* to be like *that* between us. I need to be alone as soon as possible. I’m sorry. I’m going hunting after dropping off these refugees. Talk to you later Schism.”
When Illy raises her telepathic walls at all levels, I nearly topple off of Shiz’s back. Tears freeze in the corners of my eyes in the chilly high winds. Did, did I screw up? Did I hurt her? What, glp, what was the right thing to do there? I’ll obviously follow her request, and not insert myself when she wants privacy, but she also admitted she needed me, and Kinzul thought she would need me as well. Is she in an okay state to go hunting? Friggin’ hell, now I’m bawling my eyes out because I don’t know the right thing to do. Is this a, “Chase after her you fool,” moment, or a, “Respect her boundaries,” moment?
Shaylon, apparently having been listening in, offers in their delightfully serpentine hissing voice across our telepathic bond, “It’s hard to say Schism, she could see either in a poor fashion for some time to come. If I may suggest, I would err on the side of seeing to it that you meet those demands that she has made of you. If she is later upset that you didn’t disregard them, then perhaps that situation can be remedied swiftly through speech.”
Drawing a deep breath and sighing sadly, I nod in response to Shaylon. That’s about more or less the same conclusion I was coming to, but it still hurts to know that someone admitted they literally need me right now, and that they’re suffering, and are avoiding letting me help them with that. Still, I want to respect her wishes, even if it ends up damaging whatever romance we were building. The acknowledgment of her autonomy is more important than my desire to console her, or my desire for her closeness. I sigh once more, nodding along with nothing, to no one.
I’ve shoved my own feelings in a box, and I’m not sure how to process them right now. I should help with the administration of relocating the refugees and figuring out where they need to go and such. Lucky was helping dig them a sort of free-barracks area near my project-space between Mount Solace and Mount Verdimenn. I feel vaguely numb, but also down in the dumps. I’m certainly not standing proud, returning as the conquering hero that I'm supposed to be, one that I should be in order to inspire the hope, trust, and reassurance that the denizens of Mount Solace deserve. We arrive back at Mount Solace, sometime in the afternoon or early evening at the latest. I think it’s only shortly just after noon.
Thankfully, between Atter, several Sand civilians, Revvy, Greggy, the strategists, and apparently Teuila, refugee intake is going smoothly. I drop out of the air by leaping off of Shiz, and let myself fall a good long while alongside Mount Solace, skirting within the edge of the Worldstorm, buying myself a few of the same moments of solitude that Illy is seeking. It’s easier to cry in the stinging wet. The acid rain driven into me as I’m buffeted by the ceaseless winds of the Worldstorm at this proximity burns slightly, but I hardly pay it any mind. It hurts less than being responsible for lost lives, or failing to save others, or outright killing others.
People die. People are physically hurt. People get emotionally scarred or damaged or hurt. Life will always have its challenges. How we respond to them shapes us and our relationships to others. Who is the me that I want to be? How would that Reggie respond right now? I don’t *want* to be the heralded returning conquering hero. I want to be the sensitive humble idiot that admits my faults and failings, my weaknesses. I want to both seek and give solace, comfort and reassurance to those in need. I’m just, I’m just tired in a lot of ways. My eyes begin to droop, and I continue to plummet in a thin strip of relatively harmless freefall alongside Mount Solace, the only mountain that the Worldstorm doesn’t directly contact, obviously due to Kinzul’s Administration.
Starting to feel sleepy, I should probably catch myself to stop my freefall, before I end up passing out and being unable to catch myself. It’s going to take me minutes to float back up along the cliff face, since I don’t feel like jumping around. Telekinesis does *not* like lifting things vertically at any reasonable pace at all, or really at all in general.