But he didn't. As soon as he tried to settle down, he found that even though he was exhausted, he was somehow, at the same time, keyed up - all the possibilities of what he had experienced that night were bearing down on him in the very best ways.
He had become a magical warrior. Magic - actual magic, not parlor tricks or illusions or anything like that - was real. And there was a sad soul out there - Caledonite - no, Caledonia of Cosmos, because whatever had been done to him that was who he was - who clearly desperately needed his help. His and Eden's, he supposed.
And Caledonite felt...special. Important. Like there was a reason he mattered, beyond just being a lost brother in arms. He was a fellow Knight in Cosmos, yes...but that didn't completely explain the aching feeling of loss in Carmine's chest when he thought about the green-haired man.
God, Myth would love this, surely. And he would tell her all about it - once he had the chance to sort things out for himself.
He couldn't sleep. Couldn't even dream of sleeping, when he was so excited. So he slipped out of bed and into the night, and reached for the power of Rannoch of Cosmos.
In the back of his mind, a phrase whispered, and he knew it was important. The words Eden had told him would carry him to space, to the place he was named for.
"I pledge my life and loyalty to Rannoch, and to Cosmos. Grant me your protection, so that I may grant you mine." He said, aloud.
The next thing he knew, he was somewhere else.
The vista before him was incredible. A vast lake, the waters of which he thought, at first, reflected the incredible tableau of stars around them - but no, he realized, as he walked closer.
The waters themselves were starred. He knelt next to it, and dipped his fingers in, a sense of incredible wonder overcoming him. What was this place? It was clear enough that whatever pledge he had spoken was the key phrase to transport him here.
Did that mean this was Rannoch, the thing he was named for? His...what had Eden called it?
His Wonder.
The word felt appropriate, for a place like this.
He scooped up the water in his hands, and the twinkling starlight within it remained, and he stared for a long moment in fascination. There was so much to be amazed by.
He let the water run back into the lake, and he stood, looking around more. He could see, in the distance, a delicate crystal bridge, but he couldn't see where it led.
Perhaps another time. Instead, he walked in the other direction, towards what looked to be a great old tree - dead, by appearances, which was tragic. It was the only living thing he could see, besides himself, and even then it wasn't really alive.
The bark was rough and knotted under his fingers, and he ran them over it until he came to a hollow in the trunk.
He could see something inside. He wasn't sure what it was - but Rannoch was nothing if not curious, and he was all too eager to let curiosity win, here. He slipped his hand in, and pulled out the object - a ring, the metal of which was like no metal he had ever seen. It looked like a galaxy made solid, and it made his heart quicken.
And when he looked up from the tree, for a moment, he swore he saw two figures - but the glance was brief, terribly so.
(He swore one had long green hair, and the other pastel rainbow.)
And then a voice.
His own, but deeper, and rough with emotion. Heard not in his ears but in his mind, and accompanied by a rush of wind.
"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."
His heart raced. Those words, they meant something, and he knew it - he just didn't know what.
The voice came again, softer, sadder.
"Keelah se'lai."
