[of course, he can't know for sure. he can't know how many letters she sent while he was gone, if she stopped them. he can't know if she even still thought of him; if she was angry for his sudden silence.
of course, he couldn't help it, no matter how much he wanted to—if he'd known, he would have written to milla, he would have told her that he wouldn't be able to write, that he'd be thinking of her—that it's just his duty and it can't be controlled, because the world is depending on him. but there wasn't time, and he knows that if she finds him, if she even remembers or wants to speak with him again...
he'll have plenty of apologies to make.
he's older now, weathered and worn by ten years; that naive 20 year old is now 30. those faint hints of scruff and unkempt hair and exhaustion that had taken his last few weeks in whole ass have been... well, further enhanced. his face has filled out, he's aged clearly, and that scruff is now a proper beard, and longer hair styled in a way that suits his older features. he's changed a bit; maybe a bit more weary, but still of the same heart and desire he's always had, even back then. and he's grateful, of course, that his wish had been granted, and he can remain himself.
even if he is now a soul that came in unnaturally, shifting the mana balance in a way that the lord of spirits certainly couldn't miss.
he needs a moment to figure out his surroundings, and there's little denying this beach and the cliffs are... beautiful. he can sense the spirit energy, unlike anything else he's ever known, and he gets a sense of how harnessing mana naturally should feel. it's different that his power of kings—
so it takes him a moment to get his focus in hand when he sees the merfish coming his way.]
Work's really never done, huh? [but hey. they're not daemons, so he's sure it'll be fine. he gets his daggers in hand—somehow—and warping towards them to get in a strike.
yeah. mana manipulation is definitely different, but he can make it work; if nothing else, his combat prowess has improved enough for that much.]
IT'S FINE BECAUSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL
of course, he couldn't help it, no matter how much he wanted to—if he'd known, he would have written to milla, he would have told her that he wouldn't be able to write, that he'd be thinking of her—that it's just his duty and it can't be controlled, because the world is depending on him. but there wasn't time, and he knows that if she finds him, if she even remembers or wants to speak with him again...
he'll have plenty of apologies to make.
he's older now, weathered and worn by ten years; that naive 20 year old is now 30. those faint hints of scruff and unkempt hair and exhaustion that had taken his last few weeks in whole ass have been... well, further enhanced. his face has filled out, he's aged clearly, and that scruff is now a proper beard, and longer hair styled in a way that suits his older features. he's changed a bit; maybe a bit more weary, but still of the same heart and desire he's always had, even back then. and he's grateful, of course, that his wish had been granted, and he can remain himself.
even if he is now a soul that came in unnaturally, shifting the mana balance in a way that the lord of spirits certainly couldn't miss.
he needs a moment to figure out his surroundings, and there's little denying this beach and the cliffs are... beautiful. he can sense the spirit energy, unlike anything else he's ever known, and he gets a sense of how harnessing mana naturally should feel. it's different that his power of kings—
so it takes him a moment to get his focus in hand when he sees the merfish coming his way.]
Work's really never done, huh? [but hey. they're not daemons, so he's sure it'll be fine. he gets his daggers in hand—somehow—and warping towards them to get in a strike.
yeah. mana manipulation is definitely different, but he can make it work; if nothing else, his combat prowess has improved enough for that much.]