Inbox for Fade Rift

[justice_is_blond]

[Please leave a message after the beep that doesn't actually exist.]

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[faithlikeaseed]

A twitch of Myr's head goes for acknowledgement of the question--that and no more, at first. To say something requires confessing to having a desire he should have killed and buried before it did the same to someone else. Requires confessing just how far beyond the bounds of orthodoxy he believed, and how it misled him, and how he fears--as Odetta did--he'd failed the test set before him.

"Of having my eyes again. Yes."

His fingers walk the spine of the journal once more, those same eyes drawn down to its cover.

SINCE YOU'RE BACK

[justice_is_blond]

"Was it worth it?" There isn't judgment in his voice. He's never been without a sense, and while people died... it hadn't been Myr's choice alone. And if it hadn't been Myr being healed, it may have been someone else setting off the chaos. The place had always been bound to, well, explode considering how it was fueled and run. But that hadn't meant it had to be Myr who lit the match.

SORTA HI

[faithlikeaseed]

The question echoes Teren's the night of the abbey's utter collapse, recalls the rain and the cold and the pain of fingers scraped raw by digging. Why ask me that, Myr wonders anew, as if his own judgment on the worth of what he'd experienced redeemed it. As if it could somehow balance one small part of Thedas' ledger of suffering and injustice before Andraste's returning to do away with it all.

As if seeing Simon's face outweighed Alvar's lost sanity; as if Van's tentative return to the Chantry was just payment for the lives lost to it.

As if. As if--

He'd equivocated last time, too stunned for certainty. This time he's a better idea of what to say, when at length he looks up at Anders: "I've got to live as if it was. They did."