[He did not, truly, think he would escape assessment, and yet when Elidibus turns to him, the younger Emet-Selch's posture grows tense and straight, his eyes narrow in mirror image to the expression on the elder's face just short moments before.]
[Although he would like to deny it, there is some piece of himself desperately clinging to the past, to the person he once was and the world as it had always been. A part of himself that would have rejected - vehemently - all that later came to pass had he the opportunity and the privilege to do so.]
[Yet, mayhap, it cannot completely be rejected. And mayhap that is the very reason he so detests it. Elidibus, as much as he dislikes to admit it, isn't incorrect. And even moreso one thing is plain: even by turning away from his future, his present - that which has already come to pass cannot and will not change.]
[...Not unless he truly does find a way to unlock the secrets of time travel, perhaps. Yet even if he did - would that change anything? Could he find a way to avert the Final Days, the Sundering, the sacrifice...? He does not know of one. In the end, such thoughts are nothing but sentiment driven by heartache and loss.]
[Are they so different, then? Perhaps not. Mayhap...not at all.]
[After a long pause, the crease of Emet-Selch's brow retreats, his gaze which had wandered lifts to Elidibus's face, and then to his other half.]
...Nay. I would have chosen our future, our hope, above all else. I care not to think on the toll of such a choice. Though I well suspect the result is what stands before me now.
[The two lock eyes, but briefly. It's impossible to imagine what either of them may be thinking. But at last, the younger returns his attention to Elidibus, sparing a glance at Hythlodaeus which seems almost regretful.]
So then. What is this course you would propose to us? Understand that I do not promise my cooperation or my approval. But I will lend you my ears and your words my full consideration.
2/2
[Although he would like to deny it, there is some piece of himself desperately clinging to the past, to the person he once was and the world as it had always been. A part of himself that would have rejected - vehemently - all that later came to pass had he the opportunity and the privilege to do so.]
[Yet, mayhap, it cannot completely be rejected. And mayhap that is the very reason he so detests it. Elidibus, as much as he dislikes to admit it, isn't incorrect. And even moreso one thing is plain: even by turning away from his future, his present - that which has already come to pass cannot and will not change.]
[...Not unless he truly does find a way to unlock the secrets of time travel, perhaps. Yet even if he did - would that change anything? Could he find a way to avert the Final Days, the Sundering, the sacrifice...? He does not know of one. In the end, such thoughts are nothing but sentiment driven by heartache and loss.]
[Are they so different, then? Perhaps not. Mayhap...not at all.]
[After a long pause, the crease of Emet-Selch's brow retreats, his gaze which had wandered lifts to Elidibus's face, and then to his other half.]
...Nay. I would have chosen our future, our hope, above all else. I care not to think on the toll of such a choice. Though I well suspect the result is what stands before me now.
[The two lock eyes, but briefly. It's impossible to imagine what either of them may be thinking. But at last, the younger returns his attention to Elidibus, sparing a glance at Hythlodaeus which seems almost regretful.]
So then. What is this course you would propose to us? Understand that I do not promise my cooperation or my approval. But I will lend you my ears and your words my full consideration.