This was the entire reason why Razlok lied in the first place, why they hid and pretended not to exist for a few scant hours.
From an outsider’s point of view, it was the burden of being known that weighed so heavily on the deity’s shoulders, the burden of being known when the world changed without them, when they didn’t know who or what they were anymore.
It was a profound loss and absence, reaching out for someone who was supposed to be ever present and finding them missing. It was trying to fill the role of a deity who rested on a pedestal of hope and comfort, and finding yourself lacking and seeing that others did so too.
(“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was frustr–” Kian whispered sincerely in the background.)
(“They know,” Itto reassured her. “This is more than this moment.”)
Even now, they were avoiding the confrontation.
Razlok sat with their eyes closed, head back against the wall… in… in mourning. Of what? What did the deity have to mourn?
They were back, Divines bless it, they were here now. They had a human form, a Guild to return to, and yet…
Fuck, they wanted Auron.
(Elias cut through the awkwardness. “Itto, get another chair.”)
(“What? There’s two here.”)
It was beyond the hole where their heart should be, it was beyond the unease that came with the Light’s absence. It was this world, this whole damn world.
Razlok could sense Auron’s decision-making in every section of the Guild.
The front hall wasn’t just a directory for a well-mannered secretary to guide guests elsewhere, it was a warm, comforting place of community. There were hearths, there was drink and food, there were places to sit and talk and reminisce comfortably.
It was open to the public, so friends could come join the Guild members, people could openly see what was going on at the Guild.
(Elias was persistent. “If you died, I wouldn’t sit in your chair the next day and pretend nothing happened.”)
(“Oh,” Itto conceded.)
Even the way everyone could eat together. The speeches. The fact that the Seats took such responsibility in informing the Guild personally what happened, that they were managing without Auron easily. Unwillingly, but easily.
The structure was already in place, but Auron was not the linchpin everyone assumed he was.
It was only Razlok who couldn’t handle Auron’s absence. The world still worked without him, just as it managed without the Dark for those centuries.
But Razlok was not the world, they were one complicated and surprisingly fragile person.
They were overwhelmed and overstimulated and uncomfortable. The tears weren’t flowing anymore as much as Razlok was sulking – grieving, feeling – but they still felt horrible about their little meltdown.
It was stupid. This was all stupid.
Their clothes were wet with salty tears; they weren’t even Razlok’s clothes, they were Itto’s. Fuck, the deity hoped it was fine with Itto that they’d made the shirt a bit nasty. Oh, there was probably food on it from earlier too.
“Itto is getting a chair for you,” Elias suddenly spoke from Razlok’s left, startling the deity out of their self-imposed spiral.
Razlok flinched – their perception was narrowed down to practically nothing, and they hadn’t been paying attention to the wisps of the Seats’ auras.
Elias was crouching close to the deity, balanced easily on his heels as he squatted.
“Eum… sorry…” The man apologized bashfully.
Elias could be very loud when he wanted to, but he was from a culture that emphasized politeness and apology-forward conversations.
He rocked on his heels a few moments, contemplating what to say next. Razlok wasn’t quite up to a full conversation yet. They would get there.
“If you sit with us, we can help. You don’t have to talk. Sometimes I don’t.”
Ah, that was how Razlok managed to get this far without completely falling apart. What had they done for the past twenty-four hours?
Helped Kian. Amused Itto. Defended him too. Built up the Shrine for the Guild. Took down Carter.
All of these actions required Razlok to focus on someone else, focus on making the Guild a better, warmer place, focus on one of their Seats, Light or Dark.
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They didn’t have to be everything for everyone. They could be what was needed for the people in this room, here and now. Even if it was difficult.
The Seat of Lightning didn’t cope well with public praise, or at least praise others could hear.
Years prior, it had been the subject of a very impassioned prayer in which Elias wanted an award he was being forced to publicly accept to go by as quick and painless as possible.
The deity withheld the next bit of praise, that they were proud of Elias. Razlok felt it would be too overbearing of a sentiment for Elias to handle, even in front of his friends.
Instead, they switched back to Djamícte’s common tongue, speaking loud enough for the assembled Seats to hear.
“Give me a second. I’ll be there.”
Elias left, checking on Itto’s progress and helping his husband carry a new chair into the council room.
Razlok tried not to let their thoughts linger on what they could perceive, or what the body language of the Seats meant, and instead focused on themselves. They crossed their legs and leaned forward, shifting their glasses to rub at their eyes and face.
Were these glasses necessary? No, but Razlok wasn’t prepared to let that defense go so quickly.
Once the remains of fast-drying tears were wiped away, Razlok felt a little more prepared to face the Seats.
The new chair was between Auron’s and where Itto now sat. It was an appropriate place for Razlok to be placed, and easy enough to make room.
Tired but not reluctant, Razlok joined the Seats at the council table. It was weird, admittedly. They didn’t have anything to do with their hands and sitting back and relaxing wasn’t in the cards for the day.
Cas exchanged a brief look with Elias and a conversation of only gestures before xie grabbed something from in front of xir and slid it across the table at Razlok.
“Here, try this.”
The object made a hard rolling sound on the wood until Razlok stopped it.
It was the ring Razlok noticed earlier, a metal base of a jewelry ring, clearly made to be worn, with another cylinder loosely embedded around it.
The deity furrowed their brow in confusion before feeling the device in their fingers. The outer ring twisted freely, fluidly around the inner one.
Razlok immediately made an intrigued noise, spinning the thing again. “There are bearings?”
They were very curious about the construction of this ring and (as predicted) they kept playing with it.
Elias had been correct. The Seats could help.
Maybe not in the ways those who were attuned to the Light thought should happen – talking about emotions, focusing on the root of the problem, feeling things freely – but in more of a Dark-oriented manner.
The comfort of community, of letting those flares of emotions be accepted but not spread out to be analyzed, of having others around, of moving on without minimizing the issues, the actions that followed the breakdown.
But, the Seats of Light needed some things addressed though, for their own sake.
“We did not realize you were…” Gwenllian looked for the appropriate and gentle word she needed. “… overwhelmed.”
“You’re nae mind readers,” the deity retorted. They remembered the Seat of Water’s aptitude towards perceiving emotions and accessing others’ thoughts. “Well… ye didnae know to look.”
The proof that Razlok was feeling better was in front of them.
The spinning ring had been duplicated, a copy of the original manifested out of nothing and the original sent rolling back towards Cas.
The deity was disassembling the thing, tiny ball bearings spilling out once the outer ring was popped off. The metal spheres bumped against an invisible wall as they rolled across the table; Razlok had some foresight, after all.
There was another silence, less awkward than earlier but still slow and strange to the Seats.
(Razlok was happily tinkering.)
Kian still felt embarrassed, so she stayed quiet.
Rose was new to this position, new to the concept of a Seat, so she had nothing to interject.
Elias and Itto were having a silent conversation about Razlok’s behavior, both mildly amused.
Gwenllian remained uncertain about the emotions in the room, her empathetic nature making it difficult to choose the next topic.
This left Cas, who was reliably unaffected by the strangeness and quirks of others.
“If I’m correct,” Cas began, launching into xir duty as as scribe and council clerk. “We need to assess: 1) what to do about the assassin; 2) how to address the Guild in regard to Razlok as Dark Deity; 3) plan for a public acknowledgement of Auron’s death and rebirth, when he returns.”
Xie paused and tapped something in xir notebook. “As for the second point, I presume the acknowledgement of Razlok as Dark Deity to the city and continent as a whole will wait until Auron’s return.”
A muffled peep emerged from Rose, who remembered that she and Neous were supposed to meet with the city guard and deal with the paperwork. Itto intercepted any guilt she felt, patting her arm to alleviate her worry.
Gwenllian took on the role of management once more, tactfully turning to Razlok. “Do you have any input? I know you mentioned a lack of… knowledge regarding today’s world, but I still would be interested in your opinion.”
The deity was already considering the list as they reassembled the ring, metal magic shifting the ball bearings into place and resealing the outer ring.
“Assassins are paid by someone. Focus less on the sword, more on who holds it. To kill a deity would cost hefty nexet. That narrows yer list – only a few possible answers.”
Razlok had a grey morality when it came to warfare and death. Assassins had their place in the world.
Just like with Neous, sometimes you had to punch the aggressor to get your point across. If a punch wasn’t enough, a blade would do.
“As for the last two – I willnae be much help planning a ceremony, but as much as I whinged earlier, Auron should return tomorrow, which will help tremendously.”
There was an audible sense of confusion.
“Tomorrow?” Even Gwenllian had trouble getting the word out without sounding completely incredulous. “Yesterday, you said a week.”
“Aye, I’m aware.” Razlok spun the ring with satisfaction now that it was reassembled completely, taking joy in the little whirring sound it made.
“It’s usually a week if ye leave the cor– Auron’s body as-is. Historically, the Guild likes tae have a proper funeral, means the body is untouched ‘til ye finish.”
It was a grand affair done to let the Guild and the surrounding city grieve and to welcome in the new form of the Light. Razlok didn’t typically partake.
They had to choose their words carefully now. “I … sped up the process when I… made the body disappear. With nae body lingering about, Auron can return sooner. About half the time, by approximation.”
The room felt lighter as this news filled the humans with hope. Auron was well-loved and clearly missed.
“Well, that is–” Gwenllian didn’t finish her sentence.
“Tomorrow!” Kian exclaimed, her stress and worry relieved by this news. “The kitchen’s gonna make a fancy spread for dinner, now! We gotta celebrate!”
Even Rose was more relaxed now, laughing and leaning toward Elias with affection.
This would work out, Razlok thought. It would take time and there would be plenty of miscommunication, but it would work.
They just needed to fill the one empty chair at this table with the right person.