More people were showing up. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it seemed to bring some degree of stress to the man who stood before them. There were only small giveaways. The way his hands would clench and unclench by his side, when not hidden by the draping fabrics. The slow, steady half-steps backwards to buy him a few extra feet of room. When
Halley approached and when
Etamin stepped forward, he had seemed startled and backed away from both of them.
Palatine was no different, and he shied away even though she had seemed polite enough. Even
Venice, respectful enough to bow, had been too close for this to be a relief—though perhaps the shrouded stranger eased a bit with the man's words. His shoulders relaxed, even if only briefly. They had all received quick looks from him; he seemed wide eyed, drawing in as much of them as he could in as short a time as possible. But even that seemed taxing, and once he was a safe distance away his eyes returned to sleepy, half-lidded lanterns.
There were so many voices. They echoed in his head, distracting and misleading, but he would take the chatter of humans over the growls and whines of youma, any day.
He cleared his throat once more, but didn't respond to anyone immediately. He couldn’t help it; he looked up at the night sky and it captivated him. He looked into the stars and felt away from the people, from the noise. And that, more than anything, calmed him.
They could have their discussions amongst themselves, or ask more of him. But he couldn’t get enough of the stars.
When he spoke again, he was still looking at them. Despite the different posture, this view yielded no more clues as to what he was hiding beneath his robes. There was only more fabric, and layers, and shadow.
While he could ignore
Sessrumnir's sarcasm, it was too difficult to ignore
Ganymede. He answered her, first; "I do not know if I can give you the proof you seek, Princess. Nor to any that would doubt my story. I do not have documents, or proof. Nor do I expect you have any who walk among you to verify for me."
Not if it had been
a thousand years ago. But could that be right? He repeated the words,
questioned the information
Scholomance had shared. It was longer than he'd thought. Certainly not longer than it had
felt, but that was
so long ago. He did not seem impressed by the years.
But then, he swallowed, and looked down again. The Prince,
Castor, had not given him any reason to distrust him. But he did not like the news of Beryl, or of all that he knew. "Beryl is really dead? You can confirm this?"
There was no relief in his inquiry; he seemed doubtful and unsatisfied. Let down, and angry.
But he was trying to trust them, and he could not pry or demand evidence. There was no reason he could imagine for them to lie about Beryl's death, but it was not the end that he'd expected for her. He had expected to be there, with her, at the end. To see the deed done. But she was not the only great evil. The fact simply jarred him and his speech reflected it.
"How? Who? When? I must know. If she has met her end, I hope it was all that she deserved. She was not always so bad. But I did not know her as well as the others. She was brought into the family. We dealt with the Royal Family of Earth. But news traveled fast. Gossip faster. We had heard of trouble with the marriage. The liaisons kept us informed. The world was going to change and here was no stopping it. We knew that. We had an alliance with Earth. We had a treaty. But she was a new queen, and our alliance was old. My planet needed resources. Earth had those resources. She promised the old alliance would stand. There were new terms, she said. I understood. Her war with the Moon was not our war, but Earth was our ally, and we would have perished without its aid."
He looked to
Lenka while he answered her question, and to
Cuán Oileán, after that. "I did not see her for the monster she was until the moment I stepped into her throne. I doubted myself. I blamed a fear of change. But on that day, she ordered an attack on me. On the group I was with. It…" he faltered. "…It was the last time I saw them.
Any of them. We were separated. I fled." Shame, in his gravely voice. It was huskier now than it was before. "She tried to kill us all. She was already polluting her world. Her soldiers chased me. I could not fight them off. There were too many. She had monsters on her side. We fought what we could. But we did not stand a chance. We all fell. My brothers are dead. I can only hope they died before the monsters got to them." He looked to
Xibalba. "She might have thought me dead. Or she might have been happy to keep me locked away. But it is her fault. Beryl was a victim, but that is giving her too much sympathy."
Kairatos seemed to understand her. "She was hurt. And she wanted to make others hurt. She was greedy, and entitled, and treacherous. I would have stopped her before if I had known. She was her own greatest evil. But she was smart, too. Metallia was smart. Perhaps they knew that I would oppose a war that would destroy the planet. Not just for the people here. For my people as well. There was no need for her war. She was jealous, and she lost sight of logic."
He stooped once more, guarded and tense. He did not like talking about Beryl, or the past. Or himself, apparently.
Celsus had made a fair point, but still, the stranger struggled to give his name. "If it bothers you…that I have not given a name, I apologize. I…
forget…so much. It comes and goes. In all those years, I was not the best company, I am afraid." He raised one hand to his temple and rubbed, slowly. His eyes closed as he thought. He murmured a few things—too quiet to hear, and what
could be heard didn't even sound to be English at all. It took a moment, but finally, he settled on one word.
"
Caedus."
His eyes opened again, and his hand lowered.
"I will respond to that name, if it pleases you to have it."
He did not dwell on names for long. He seemed more tired now, and he was trying to stay focused on the topics at hand. It was not always an easy task and he found himself sometimes very distracted with what pieces of side conversations he caught.
Tiede's words slipped through the noise of the crowd and he looked at her an unflinching gaze. Undoubtedly, there were few who would enjoy being compared to barely concealed death, or being called
all wrong, but he only tilted his head at her in silent judgment—and then moved on.
He did not want to focus on thoughts like those.
But there were still things he liked. He found he might even like some of those who had arrived at his calling. The ones that did not seem so focused on only answers and self-gain. The ones that asked about
him. About
helping him.
Arthur, even with questions, was reassured and worried for his own kind. "I hold no ill-will for Senshi or Knight or Cat. You are not seduced by the Chaos. You are not seduced by Beryl, or Metallia, or whatever evil still holds claim to this Earth. You are not my enemies. I told you: I wish to be allies. I have no intention to hurt any of you.
If you have no intention to hurt me."
But it was more than just him;
Andronicus had given condolences.
Oberon his sympathy.
Perdita seemed soft spoken and caring, still.
Elpis wept and called him friend—a gesture he found surprisingly touching.
Lacrimosa seemed sweet, and offered help.
Hvergelmir's urging was peaceful and reassuring.
Harmonia was understanding and optimistic.
But
Scylla offered him basic comforts he had not had in what felt like a lifetime, and he had an immediate fondness for her. His gaze went to her immediately, but his words were slower. He was not well, but from where he had come from—who would be? She might put a label to his condition, but
Castor had. "I do not think you have a doctor who could fix me. I have gone…a very long time without proper food or water." What he had in the Rift had barely sustained him. It showed; he was still alive, though.
"… I will probably live a little longer. I cannot ask for more favors than the one I have in mind."
But they had so many questions, still. They did not trust him enough for
that, and he could he could not ask. Yet.
"If I give you aid…If I open the door I crawled out of. If I give you an opening to their haven…I would not dictate what course of action you took. I do not know
this enemy like you do. I know the old enemy. I know
my enemy. But if
Her army is new…and if
She is gone…I cannot say if this Negaverse deserves death. Metallia does. She must be destroyed. An unending, unsleeping evil. If she is gone, the Negaverse…" He did not seem to know how to put his thoughts into words. "Maybe…the evil…will leave them. But some of them are too far gone. The ones closest to her have a bond with that cannot be broken. She would not let them leave. They would not want to leave. Her grip is too tight."
He did not know if this was enough to answer
Gevaudan's question and
Nirvana's concern, but he could hope. "I have not known Chaos to release its hold on those it has stolen. But perhaps Metallia has grown weaker with age. Perhaps there is hope. I do not know."
Erebus and
Scholomance each seemed interested in how he planned to be involved, so to them he answered, "I do not know if I would be of any aid in battle. I will help as I can. But I am…"
A shriveled mess of a person. He was mysterious and secretive and certainly wasn't telling them everything. Perhaps he was playing it up; perhaps he
was a good actor. Or perhaps he was just tired, and battered. He wasn't making it easy to determine.
He did not finish his sentence in any coherent way. His mouth moved, but the words came out incomprehensibly. He did not seem to notice and continued speaking this way for a moment before he coughed, once.
It was a violent jostle that shook his whole frame, and it had been more than enough to shake him out of his rambling.
Lacrimosa,
Scholomance,
Castor,
Babylon,
Sadachbia,
Chariklo, and
Faust seemed particular interested in the offer he proposed, and the power behind it. He did not give them the fullest answer he could have, but he did not ignore them.
He blinked, as if seeing with new eyes, and continued: "I can open the gateway for you. To their stronghold. I can give you time to prepare and plan. To strike them while they are defenseless. I know the way into their Space. I know where the Castle is. You can assign your leaders, dictate your choices. I will not try to lead you. I do not ask you to follow me in any way. I would put my trust in you to lead yourselves. I cannot pretend to know what is best for you. But I
can promise you that the sooner you are rid of Metallia, the better off you are. No good can come of the Negaverse. But good can come from their destruction. But to help you…"
Another pause; he was collecting himself. Preparing himself.
His body did not move, but his eyes did, and he looked across the faces before him.
"I need energy."
