hadriel | six ✤ text

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six ✤ text

The upset children are right. Do not eat anything with meat in it. This is the last time I accept any help from the others.

Healing the bodies isn't so difficult - anyone I've given a blessing to can do it, and perhaps others who can heal, as well. Separating the spirits from the bodies is much more time-consuming and tedious, however. If you bring them to the altar of my temple, I should be able to do it. Otherwise, we'll find some other way to take care of these monsters.

I cannot believe I have to tell my colleagues not to feed you human meat. This is absolutely ridiculous.

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They are Fear and Rage, aren't they? I hardly think they have our best interests at heart. They'd not be trying to keep us healthy.

Is there anything we can do to help you? I don't have healing power, but if there's a way I can strengthen you, I'll do it.

They aren't always so idiotic - well, no. Fear always is. Rage can be decent.

And if you would like to strengthen me, simply have hope. For what, it doesn't really matter.

What I hope is that you can save them. That they won't be consigned to a fate as cannibals, that they can be human again.

And beyond that, that we could find the way out of this place. That's my hope.

I don't know if believing we'll all eventually leave you would help you at all.

They will be. They just may have to die first, if their friends can't bring them to my altar.

And yes, it does help. It doesn't matter what you hope for, so long as you hope.

Edited 2016-02-20 17:09 (UTC)

Well then, I’ll do that. And I’ll try to bring them to you.

Thank you for helping us. I realize that it takes something from you to do it. It’s not unappreciated, and I know that you helped my friend, as well. I'm more grateful for that than I can tell you.

I'm not often thanked, I have to admit. The sentiment is appreciated. You don't need to be grateful, though. None of you asked to be here, just as I didn't ask for you to be here.

We didn’t. I can’t speak for everyone, of course, but I know that all I really want is to go home.

Is there no way that you know of at all? A Door opened in one direction could be opened in another, surely.

I'm doing what I can, but I really know nothing about the Door, and Fear isn't interested in helping. One of my former companions might know, but I can't say which.

[ At this point, that's what Gansey expected him to say. It's not what he wants to accept, though. ]

And what about the food? It's you who brings that, isn't it?

If you can bring that, couldn't you send us back in the other direction?

I create it, rather than bringing it. So no, I'm afraid not. I lack that power.

Oh, I see. I’m sorry, then. That’s even more of a burden for you.

What of the people who lived here before? Do you remember them? I’m sorry if these are old questions, by the way, I haven’t been here for long.

I do remember them. They were very different from all of you. What is is that you want to know?

Much, honestly.

Who were they, what did they call themselves? Were they native to this world?

[ That’ll work as a starter for ten. Gansey pulls his notebook out. He’ll want to have a record of this. ]

You do want quite a lot of information, don't you?

I doubt you would be able to pronounce their name for themselves, but yes, they were native. They were quite pleasant. I miss them.

[ He does. Gansey takes the same approach to everything he studies. If you want to know where you're going, you have to know where you've been. ]

I'm interested in history. I think it's important to learn the lessons it teaches.

What is it that happened to them? It's as though they just disappeared.

They all died.

I cleaned them up before you arrived, so you would not be alarmed.

[ He cleaned them up. Jesus, this place was full of bodies.

That thought is bracing. Gansey steels himself. ]

I see. A couple of questions, then.

Is it known, how they died?

It is. But before you ask, no, I won't share it. Nor will I share how the other gods died.

I see. I understand that.

[ Not actually, but he understands not to ask. He feels this ice may be thin. ]

It's just that, I wondered why it is you don't revive them, the way you do with us. This was their place, after all, their home.

I won't do so until I'm sure they will be safe and able to flourish.

So then...that is what you want to do, eventually?

Ideally, one day. For now I wish to resurrect my colleagues.

And if you can do that, if you can resurrect them all - what happens to this place then?

Well, you'll certainly have more intact buildings. Perhaps we'll find out how to get you home, as well.

And you believe the gods less interested in our welfare than you would allow that to happen?