If only the war was the extent of his world's, as well. He listened to the talk of a single war lasting fifty years and he shook his head gravely, greatful that the war of shadows had only taken three to come to it's conclusion. He couldn't face any more death, he knew that. He wouldn't endure it any longer.
....Or at least, he thought he couldn't.
"No." He responded delicately, considerately, after a small moment in thought. "You might think this statement arrogant, but there is a power upon my world... two, actually, which can bring an end to all of the conflict. I am the last capable of using these powers of my bloodline - the only bloodline capable of using them." Of course, he remembered escaping to Talys three years past. What Malladeus had said to him - that he did not have the luxury of choosing his fate like others. Instead, he had to be something else. Something great.
Something he'd dutifully accepted, even if it had brought him nothing but suffering.
"I... accept that my life is not my own. It must be spent in service to the world of which I belong, in order to make certain that our wars do not turn into anything as drawn out as your own.... for the enemy of my world..."
A small pause. And his shoulders rose, and fell. "I would say I cannot escape what is required of me. But clearly, it has happened. I can only say I cannot, with a clear heart." And he couldn't. What had been left behind, even now, was burdening him. It was clear in the fact his pallor hadn't cleared with Ramza's touches. It was caused by stress, and no small amount of worry.
no subject
....Or at least, he thought he couldn't.
"No." He responded delicately, considerately, after a small moment in thought. "You might think this statement arrogant, but there is a power upon my world... two, actually, which can bring an end to all of the conflict. I am the last capable of using these powers of my bloodline - the only bloodline capable of using them." Of course, he remembered escaping to Talys three years past. What Malladeus had said to him - that he did not have the luxury of choosing his fate like others. Instead, he had to be something else. Something great.
Something he'd dutifully accepted, even if it had brought him nothing but suffering.
"I... accept that my life is not my own. It must be spent in service to the world of which I belong, in order to make certain that our wars do not turn into anything as drawn out as your own.... for the enemy of my world..."
A small pause. And his shoulders rose, and fell. "I would say I cannot escape what is required of me. But clearly, it has happened. I can only say I cannot, with a clear heart." And he couldn't. What had been left behind, even now, was burdening him. It was clear in the fact his pallor hadn't cleared with Ramza's touches. It was caused by stress, and no small amount of worry.