As Dirk explains, Hades watches him with due interest, yet there is a thread of worry laced within his gaze. For good reason, because as he says more, the more he realizes the mess that Hythlodaeus has indirectly handed him. That he would begin to forge Dirk's trust in him again, and then be left with this.
By the end of it, his brow is low and furrowed, exasperation and exhaustion plain in his features. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he glances to the box that has since been set aside, then the stone in his hand.
"He spoke true--to a degree." Hades begins, his voice low and controlled. "Azem means a great deal to me, ever shall he. He was my dearest friend, a man whom I have held great love for over the passing of eons."
His hand closes around the stone, as he looks up at Dirk. His expression softens from the vexation that creased his brow moments ago, but it is replaced with a mournful longing.
"As for these soul crystals--these were tools that I and the other unsundered created from our memories of those within the Convocation lost to that baleful light. So that we might raise their fragments to their station once again, to serve our duty to our people, to Zodiark."
Once again, his gaze flicks to the stone in his hand, but only for a moment. Wanting to keep his focus on Dirk so that he might not feel as though he is less worthy to behold than the stone itself.
"However, Azem was not among us when we summoned Zodiark, he had left the Convocation ere we could, being the sole opposed party to such a scheme. Thus he abandoned both the Convocation and Amaurot--being the first defector in our history. He would be deemed unworthy of commemoration--despite all he had done for our people--for everyone. That I could not abide, and so..." He lifts the stone to finish that thought with clear emphasis.
"Neither Lahabrea nor Elidibus were aware of this. I would not suffer forgetting him, his deeds, and our friendship. What Hythlodaeus brought to you--what he was attempting to convey--I would wager was an invitation to fill the hole he's left behind, for the three of us were an unbreakable trio. That is, until they both were lost to the sundering."
There's a long moment where his gaze wanders away from Dirk, leaving the air heavy with his despair and grief. But then, he places the stone in the middle of the rest, but he does not close the box, nor does he look away from the stones.
"You are not he, nor would I ever ask you to be. My feelings for you are your doing alone, and while there are aspects that remind me of him, none can replace him, nor would I ask anyone to try." Looking at Dirk once again, his posture is tired, yet somewhat at ease. His voice yet fills with affection and earnest as he continues.
"You stand in my heart by your own merits, and this is why I never brought him up, for I did not want you to believe my bond was born of aught else but you. And, while 'Azem' is but a title to be inherited and if I were to name any among us that would be worthy of such it would be you, I would nary force such upon you if you desired not to be the sun that would guide the stars." He finishes that with an emphatic gesture to the soul stones--the constellations surrounding the bright orange sun.
"Certainly not with such a poor explanation as Hythlodaeus bequeathed you, anyway."
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By the end of it, his brow is low and furrowed, exasperation and exhaustion plain in his features. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he glances to the box that has since been set aside, then the stone in his hand.
"He spoke true--to a degree." Hades begins, his voice low and controlled. "Azem means a great deal to me, ever shall he. He was my dearest friend, a man whom I have held great love for over the passing of eons."
His hand closes around the stone, as he looks up at Dirk. His expression softens from the vexation that creased his brow moments ago, but it is replaced with a mournful longing.
"As for these soul crystals--these were tools that I and the other unsundered created from our memories of those within the Convocation lost to that baleful light. So that we might raise their fragments to their station once again, to serve our duty to our people, to Zodiark."
Once again, his gaze flicks to the stone in his hand, but only for a moment. Wanting to keep his focus on Dirk so that he might not feel as though he is less worthy to behold than the stone itself.
"However, Azem was not among us when we summoned Zodiark, he had left the Convocation ere we could, being the sole opposed party to such a scheme. Thus he abandoned both the Convocation and Amaurot--being the first defector in our history. He would be deemed unworthy of commemoration--despite all he had done for our people--for everyone. That I could not abide, and so..." He lifts the stone to finish that thought with clear emphasis.
"Neither Lahabrea nor Elidibus were aware of this. I would not suffer forgetting him, his deeds, and our friendship. What Hythlodaeus brought to you--what he was attempting to convey--I would wager was an invitation to fill the hole he's left behind, for the three of us were an unbreakable trio. That is, until they both were lost to the sundering."
There's a long moment where his gaze wanders away from Dirk, leaving the air heavy with his despair and grief. But then, he places the stone in the middle of the rest, but he does not close the box, nor does he look away from the stones.
"You are not he, nor would I ever ask you to be. My feelings for you are your doing alone, and while there are aspects that remind me of him, none can replace him, nor would I ask anyone to try." Looking at Dirk once again, his posture is tired, yet somewhat at ease. His voice yet fills with affection and earnest as he continues.
"You stand in my heart by your own merits, and this is why I never brought him up, for I did not want you to believe my bond was born of aught else but you. And, while 'Azem' is but a title to be inherited and if I were to name any among us that would be worthy of such it would be you, I would nary force such upon you if you desired not to be the sun that would guide the stars." He finishes that with an emphatic gesture to the soul stones--the constellations surrounding the bright orange sun.
"Certainly not with such a poor explanation as Hythlodaeus bequeathed you, anyway."