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The Calling (7) : A beautiful melody drift on the air from somewhere far away. The vocals are in a language you don’t quite recognize, but feel somehow familiar to you. Something about the song calls to you, but no matter where you go, the song seems to sound the same distance away. The longer it goes on, the more emotional the song becomes--and the more emotional you become. Something about the song is possessive and consuming, like it’s all you can think of. Something resonates in you as the song crescendos, and the feeling is at its strongest--be they good, bad, anything, but suddenly the song fades, and there’s only an emptiness inside of you. The feeling of loss is strong, and can leave someone feeling emotionally numb. Someone out there was calling to you, and you couldn’t find them.
Paracelsian had come to a decision, or at least the easiest half of one.
Cor Caroli was getting his starseed back, and he would not be taken in for corruption. He would make sure the senshi woke up, and then they would part, perhaps for good, in one direction or another.
A beautiful song made its way to Paracelsian's ears, and a pang of guilt felt as though it sliced his heart from the inside. He had no idea what the lyrics were, but the tone of the song transcended the need for words: it was mournful, packed with strong, heavy feelings. The song called to him, and yet called through him, as though the singer shared his guilt and pain. Grief, that was a good word for the sensation clutching at his chest right now. Grief for what had been lost, and what he could be about to lose.
As he made his way to where he had hidden Cor Caroli, the wondrous voice's dynamics increased in volume. The voice was feminine, he decided, and as he walked, it was as though he emptied his mind to all but the song and his mission and the guilt squeezing his heart. The pain on a mental and physicalized level was intense and real, and there was a moment where he wished he could remove his own starseed to rid himself of it.
What foolishness. The fact that corrupt senshi could do that without consequences was a defiance of nature in itself, in a way. He trudged on, guided by the consistency of the song. It always seemed to be the same distance away, except for when it grew louder. He was almost there, and the woman's operatic wails were dangerously close to drawing tears to his eyes.
Soon, he found the body, propped up against the tree as though he were merely resting. Breath hitching in his chest to stifle sobs, he pulled out the starseed that belonged to Cor Caroli. No longer would this thing burn him from subspace, or cause the feeling that it was. It would be returned to its rightful owner. He pressed it up against the senshi's chest, and with a flash, it went back to him.
Cor began to breathe again, but Paracelsian found no relief. The song was at its peak, a glorious tribute to pain and redemption, and despite himself, he choked out a sob as the music snapped to silence.
Cor stirred, opening his eyes to see Paracelsian staring down at him, covering his eyes with his hands. "You... you put it back, and I'm still me," he said in a hoarse voice.
"Go," Paracelsian said through exhausted weeping even as he tried to bite it back. "Run. Get out of here as fast as you can, and we will not see each other again."
As much as Cor wanted to ask what had happened and what had changed the Captain's mind so hard and fast, he knew better than to believe that Paracelsian was stable enough to leave him intact. Groaning, he pulled himself up, and he fled the scene as fast as his legs could take him.
Paracelsian slumped to his knees, an emptied shell that ached from the inside out. He'd done what was needed.
