Welcome to Gaia! ::

Caedus seemed relaxed and prepared for her appearance; he was reclining and seemed strangely tired but he managed a smile when she greeted him. “You spoil me,” he mused, but there was no criticism or disdain in his voice. He was always grateful for her company and her gifts, but to ensure she knew this he added, “Thank you.”

He didn’t tense when she neared; long ago he’d learned that she brought with her no need for hostility or alarm.

She was his friend, and one of the few that he could be at peace around.

With no hidden agenda to concern himself with, he simply glanced over the things she’d brought today before his eyes found her face. He never reached to take anything before it was offered to him, and despite his interest, he remained sitting still. “You seem like you are always in a good mood these days. I assume you have been doing well since we last spoke?”

Caedus seemed a little distracted, but the smile lingered in the shadows. He nodded somewhat absentmindedly as Scylla listed the food; he would not remember any of their names unless they were either very good or very bad. He was not picky with food and, despite his perpetual hunger, he did not immediately dig in.

He waited, pensive, eyes on her for a few seconds before they moved to her book and then, to the sky.

“Uneventful,” he answered. “I am holding up well enough. My nerves are acting up a bit,” he mused, hand moving to rest over his stomach in an oddly vulnerable fashion that seemed very unlike him.

He had something on his mind; he seemed distracted and, while not quite distant, there was something off about him.

He did not unveil it with careful words and implications; he announced abruptly “I have enough energy, almost. I will be leaving soon.”

Only, the second the words fell from his lips, he turned his gaze back to her. As if concerned those words were too harsh, he immediately added in a softer tone, “But I will return. And I will take you up on that offer when I do.”

“Perhaps a week or two,” Caedus mused. “There are those that would have me leave sooner, but I nearly have enough energy to get home, now. I mean to leave as soon as I can. It is not that I dislike Earth.”

His eyes found hers. “I find that there are people I will very much miss. There is much to this world that I have not seen, and a part of me regrets it. But there is a greater part, a louder part, that drives me to finish what I have started. I cannot forgive Beryl and I cannot forgive the Negaverse. In all the time I have been here I have seen only their continued efforts to destroy this world. If it is truly one of the last bastions of life in this galaxy, in this universe, I cannot in good conscience do nothing. So I will be back. I will recover on my homeworld, I will retrieve my allies, and we will return. I will pay back the debt I owe the Senshi of this world. And, perhaps, when the war is over…”

He sighed softly. “…We can rebuild relations between my world and yours. I understand that the times have changed. Most people on your world do not know of the war you fight. Of you, and your powers. But we are allies. And we should look after each other. We are two small worlds of life in a universe of desolation. I hope we can help each other flourish. Of course,” he offered a small smile. “That will mean many trips back and forth. You could visit us. And of course, I would have to visit often. If you would have me, that is.”

It was only when Scylla pushed the fries at him that he began to eat, but it wasn’t with the usual appreciation of food; he was more interested in her, in talking. For all the time he had spent in the Rift, trapped on this planet, this past year had been both good and bad for him. He was trapped, still, but not alone.

What had been an attempt to survive had unexpected side effects—friendships born of generosity and companionship.

Scylla was undeniably amongst his most dear, and would be one of the few he’d miss most. She had tirelessly visited, routinely; she had brought sustenance, supplies, information and companionship.

Sometimes, when she was around, he didn’t feel so trapped.

But there was no avoiding duties and responsibilities, and he could have made friends with all the people of Destiny City and it wouldn’t have been enough to deter him from his task.

“My people are loyal,” he said quietly. “There were many good men who were lost that day. I have no reason to believe the goals of my people, even after all this time, would not be the same as mine. Metallia’s existence is a threat to Earth, and to all the worlds. If she grows in power, if she extends her reach, it is not far-fetched to believe that she could come for us. For any allies we still have. At the very least, I know they can consider that. But,” his eyes slid to the stars even as he lifted a few fries to his lips. “Even if I had to return with only a handful of allies—even if I had to return alone—I still would.”

He glanced back at her, soft smile on his face. “I have grown fond of this world. In a way. Or, perhaps, it is just some of the people on it. And I will help stop the war Beryl started, in any way I could. She may be dead, but Metallia still lives. I will see her defeated.”

He spoke with such confidence, such resolve; it seemed he had made up his mind and would not be swayed on the matter.

Caedus never seemed to mind the closeness he felt with her, and when she rested closer to him he just seemed to relax.

"Scylla," he said after a moment. "I wish I had time to teach you all the words. My whole language. I will miss these conversations." He held a fry carefully between his fingers, though he did not raise it to his lips. He remained a stoic figure; he did not move closer to her, but neither did he move away. He was statuesque in his resolve, and though he offered no words, he seemed to welcome her nearness.

"...But I will return," he said, both for her and for himself. He held that resolve as true as he held the idea that his people were fine and waiting for him. He clung to these convictions, and there was no doubt that he would hold true to them.

If he could return, he would.

He was quiet for a moment, and then began his explanation, "There are several ways to say thank you. The most basic, and simple, is 'Vyn'. You would say it to someone doing a small deed or saying a kind word. It means 'to give thanks'. A greater form, 'Vynlen'. You would say this to someone who has done you a greater deed, or whose actions you appreciate immensely. The greatest form of thanks is 'Vynlendl'. You say this when your gratitude is so vast you are soul bound. You do not need to include the subject, it is conjugated into the word. If you wish to be formal, you title your subject. It is not like to welcome--Dvelin, Glein. You could say Vyn, Geln, but it is universally understood without subject identifiers. Does that make sense?"

He spoke with the same enthusiasm as before, though it was somewhat tempered by the idea of having to say goodbye at all.

Caedus' eyes lifted to hers, and for a moment he wore the same, typical, bland expression that should be expected of him.

And then, softly, he smiled, with a warmth that reached his eyes.

"I do not know that I saved anyone. And you certainly owe me nothing. I feel that I was saved by you." He maintained his smile, "I am grateful to have met you. You are wise. And kind. And strong. And there have been times that I felt week, and I think of our friendship, and it brings me strength. If there are words to thank you enough, I do not know them. Not in your language. But do not be sad in our parting."

He leaned a little closer, rested his hand over hers. He was cold, but this was a connection he thought warranted the physical contact he had learned those on Earth seemed to favor.

"I will return. Better, and stronger. And I hope that when I do we are able to complete our goal. We must stop the Negaverse. Before they stretch any further," he sighed. "But I have hope. As long as Earth has people like you to defend it. I admire you. I will take your teachings with me back to my people. And I will bring them here for you to meet. You will inspire them as well."

He seemed convinced, determined.

It was a promise--to her, and himself.