As the delvers trudged towards the saferoom between the second and third floor, Evelyn’s feelings were mixed. Not least of all because Ivy had been uncharacteristically quiet through the whole affair as they watched from the comfort of a new saferoom at the beginning of the fourth floor.
“Are you upset that they blocked the mechanism?”
Ivy jumped, “What, that? No. I hadn’t been expecting it, but it’s fine. Actually, I’m kind of happy they’ve found a way to allow retreat. In retrospect I think trying to block that may have been a mistake with the initial design…”
The response seemed a little lethargic, but Ivy was usually direct.
“You did design it before we dedicated the floor to Exousia. That dedication has made the floor significantly more dangerous. Nevertheless, they have discerned a method with the potential for consistency, though I don’t recognise that [Priestess of Pamyel].” Eveyln gestured to the woman with the impressive purity skills who was placing a generous offering atop the altar in the safe room. It seemed obvious from the delvers’ discussion that this was the reason she came to the dungeon and likely the city itself. “I believed that bringing individuals with the right skills would have a large impact, and we shall have to see if she returns or if this was a one-off pilgrimage, though even that has implications. However, it would seem I grossly underestimated the effect of bringing the correct equipment.”
“Yeah, they were well prepared,” Ivy murmured.
Evelyn took a hard look at the woman beside her, she didn’t seem distracted with some intricate idea as was often the case, but only seemed to be engaging enough to be nominally polite. Slouching posture not relaxed but apathetic, a word Evelyn never would have expected to describe the excitable young [Guide].
“No bold ideas should we gain any of the equipment they used?”
“Most of the materials we have. Oil could be useful if we get it.”
“Ivy, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s all good,” Ivy smiled but something was off, it lacked vibrancy, and didn’t reach her eyes.
“Have I offended you in some way? I’m sorry I don’t know all of your customs…”
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“What! No!”
“Then are you worried about something?”
Ivy seemed to shrink back into herself, Evelyn feared she was about to go silent.
“Am I a horrible person?”
The voice was so quiet and the query so ridiculous Evelyn briefly questioned if it actually happened until she realised the likely interpretation of her pause.
“No!” Evelyn spluttered, her composure failing her in this key moment. She grasped Ivy’s hands and tried to meet her downturned eyes. “Ivy you are without a doubt one of the most caring, compassionate people I’ve ever met! And that’s after whatever Div did to you! You are a good person. One of the best I know.”
Evelyn realised she was shaking Ivy in her fervour and stopped, clearing her throat as heat washed across her cheeks. As much as she respected Ivy as a capable, competent woman, in that moment as she uncurled slightly and finally met her eyes, tears brimming, Evelyn couldn’t help but see her as a girl who had been hurt and desperately needed a friend as supportive as herself. That might be too high a bar to meet, but Ivy was too important not to try.
“You.. You’re not just saying that? Trying to make me feel better?”
“No! Gods no. Whatever would give you the idea that you weren’t?”
Slowly, in fits and starts, with streams of tears and snot that would have scandalised her mother, Ivy’s feelings came out as Evelyn just held her. Through sobs she spoke of her worries about both her feelings and lack thereof on all the death, uncertainty as a [guide] and the decision of whether to demand Div undo what he did, or admit that while a violation, maybe some good had come of it. Evelyn had lost all track of the delvers, entire focus on just being with the woman beside her. She wished she could do more to give comfort, but it seemed like just talking out some of her thoughts and having a good cry seemed to be relieving some of the pressure on Ivy.
“Thanks Evelyn, that helped. I didn’t mean to dump on you after all you’ve had to deal with.”
Evelyn felt that dull ache in the pit of her stomach, mourning for the loss of the gods she thought she knew and resentment for those who bore their names. While the pain was present it wasn’t as all-consuming or overwhelming as it was at first.
“How are you dealing with the whole gods thing?”
“It’s… difficult,” Evelyn struggled to find the words. “It feels like the loss of a loved one more than anything, even if in reality they never really existed.” Seeing Ivy’s next words written across her face she clarified, “Oh certainly The Three exist, but they aren’t the gods I thought they were; and I can’t say I particularly care for them.”
Ivy’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a swift squeeze.
“I’m not really angry, at least that’s not the main feeling. It hurts, and like a broken limb you suddenly realise all the different ways you lean on, the pain comes from a dozen things you expect and many more you don’t. But people learn to live without loved ones or adapt to missing limbs and I’ll do the same, in time.”
“We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?” A trace of her usual smile stretching across her puffy face.
“Indeed.”
Evelyn couldn’t tell how long the two of them just sat there together, but they only moved when the notification for defeating delvers drew their attention.