Group be damned, Hythlodaeus steps back in front of Emet-Selch and cups his face in both hands, eyes pleading. "They'll end you." He says it quietly, his words only for his friend. "Please. I know not how they do it but they will, and with your death her Light is spent."
It's probably a good thing the others are too noble to attack while Hythlodaeus is distracting him. His back is to them, they would have the perfect shot. "Would you leave me here alone?" He smiles, though it's sad. "Ah... but I did the same to you, did I not? I would deserve it. To walk alone for eons, your death on my conscience." To slowly go mad, as his dear partner has.
There's something about the look in Hythlodaeus' eyes that is striking. Sad, pleading, and desperate to have him listen. Emet leans in so that their foreheads nearly touch one another. Why would Hythlodaeus think he deserved to suffer so?
"I would sooner tear down the sky than let you suffer such a fate," Emet responds with words quiet enough to be intended intimately.
What would be the best course of action, then? The light she bears is powerful enough to bring about the end of this world. It could easily bring about his end if she was able to wield it properly, of that he had no doubt. Though as a writhing monster of light it would be impossible to accomplish. Yet, even then, the life of an Ascian is not easily extinguished. Something else would have to be at play - as it had been with his other Ascian colleagues.
It seems like Hythlodaeus may have the right of it. Emet stands up straighter and addresses the group at large. "Very well. It seems that I've no choice but to leave you to suffer your own consequences." Emet says. "Farewell, so-called 'Warrior of Darkness'. It is likely that we will not meet again." And with that simple explanation, they're surrounded in black smoke tinged with purple, whisked away to another far-off destination.
Hythlodaeus is quiet as they get back to the boat, but after a while he simply pulls Emet-Selch to him and into an embrace. He may have just doomed an entire world, unless the Warrior can find a way to spend that light inside her fast. But... what was his other option? To let Emet go to his death? No; Hythlodaeus would rather see a thousand worlds end.
Maybe he finally understands why Emet is doing what he's doing. It doesn't make it right, but he's not just rejoining these worlds for nothing. Hythlodaeus still wants nothing to do with it, but he gets it now. If Emet-Selch feels half as strongly for Hythlodaeus as he feels for him... he would do so many terrible things to see him again, were it the other way around.
"I apologise, my friend. I simply couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
Emet is slow to return the embrace. When he lifts his arms, they are placed around Hythlodaeus gingerly, carefully. It's strange to think that he avoided a brush with death. Actual death. No one in so many years has remotely posed that much of a threat.
"In how many ways will you save me, I wonder," Emet says with a sigh. "There is no need for an apology. I should be sorry for involving you in these unpleasant affairs." Although it stands to reason if he wasn't involved, then Emet wouldn't live to see the next day.
When he pulls away, it's only to press a brief kiss to his friend's lips. "You are a fool," he murmurs, but his eyes and tone are fond and he braves a smile. "Ah, but I would have you no other way."
Kissing him again, just glad that he's alive, he does pull back in order to gaze over the waters. Incredible to think that Emet-Selch could create an entire city underneath the waves, but...
"If we have truly doomed that world, how will you visit Amaurot again?"
A fool, is it? He gives an equally fond look in return for such a slight - content to be a fool for Hythlodaeus alone.
His expression shifts when Amaurot is mentioned. The likeness of his home is presumably doomed. It's a small blessing that he would not be there to witness what havoc the light would bring upon the city. Given he couldn't bear the thought of unmaking the city on its own, he couldn't think what he would do if he had to bear witness to it being torn apart by some wild beast.
"It can be recreated elsewhere." Difficult as it was to manifest the city the first time, surely creating it a second time would go smoother with a less addled state of mind. "Although it seemed as though you found my likeness of Amaurot wanting. I trust any like recreation would be just as unacceptable?"
"Any recreation would be... something you must walk alone." Unless he could bring back the real Amaurot, which simply won't happen. He hates to say as much- he doesn't like the thought of Emet-Selch wandering a ghost town on his own. But Hythlodaeus can't bring himself to go with him. Not yet.
"I would prefer that you didn't make it again, though." He takes Emet-Selch's hand. "I would prefer that you try to make a new home. With me. Together, we shall find somewhere to call our own paradise. It will never be Amaurot, but it will be ours."
'It will never be Amaurot.' The words are more difficult to hear than he would like to think.
However, he looks on with a certain amount of forced optimism. "Then may I provide us with another suggestion?" He's traveled all the corners of this world and one particular place comes to mind - A small slice of land in Garlemald, one that he would have dared to call beautiful some time ago.
"It is likely in some form of disrepair by now, but we could make it our own."
"I would be glad to go anywhere you take me." As long as it isn't that... empty place.
"Disrepair matters not. After all, you could simply restore it with a click of your fingers." He presses Emet-Selch's hand to his own chest, smiling properly finally. "We must simply decide on what kind of home we'd like."
He kisses Emet's knuckles, the look in his eyes still speaking of fondness and love for his dearest friend.
Emet gives him a look, one that is not entirely annoyed but begrudgingly accepting of such a gesture.
"Then let us look to our first option." With that, the entire boat is engulfed in wisps of black and purple. They continue to sail and emerge on waters far to the north. The cold air is the first notable sign they are somewhere far from where they were.
Off to their right, just on the edge of the water, is a lone house. The house - or lodge as its size would imply - is a long-forgotten retreat for Garlean dignitaries. It is surrounded by a dense forest that stretches for malms and malms. The structure is built from large twisting metal and chipped dark stone with large panel windows on all sides. Small waterfalls run down both sides of the house, and it appears as though some kind of strange Magitek device is positioned to take advantage of the falling water.
Time has definitely taken a toll on the once-beautiful building. Several of the windows have been broken out and it leaves the ground littered with slivers of glass. Stones have fallen out of the facing, metal structures have rusted, floorboards cracked, and all manner of debris litter the house inside and out. Even the Garlean flag that flies out front is in tatters.
Emet had only been here a few times during his tenure. Such luxuries were forgotten in the midst of the countries civil war. He glances to Hythlodaeus with an expectant look, as if to ask for an opinion.
Hythlodaeus' first instinct is to shiver slightly, the cold air biting. He'd usually enjoy a cool breeze, but this is a little excessive. He moves closer to Emet-Selch for warmth, and looks to the lodge.
It's certainly a fixer-upper. But that seems to make no difference to him- he's already expecting that Emet-Selch can simply fix it however he likes. Hythlodaeus would certainly share his aether for the task, though if Emet can create an entire city he likely doesn't need Hythlodaeus' help in repairing a single building.
"It's beautiful," he murmurs, eyes fixed on it. "I find this a promising location." He doesn't know what the Magitek device is, admittedly. But he likes the look of it anyway. "Can we get a closer look?"
He nudges the ship's anchor overboard with his foot. After taking the time to make the ship, it would be such a waste to have it drift off.
"I don't intend that you gape at it from a distance," Emet replies by snarky way of 'yes'. Within an instant, they're brought to the shore in a wisp of black and purple smoke.
"I called this place home for a time." He makes to walk up onto some crumbling stone stairs that lead up from the beach. It's cold enough that there are some streaks of frozen water down the side of the stone. "This building was a retreat for Garlean dignitaries some years ago. I suspect they've long forgotten about it, here at the edge of the world."
Following Emet-Selch, his shivering only worsens. He tries not to complain about it, though he can tell it'll be just as cold inside at first because of all the broken windows.
Making it up the stairs, he heads towards the lodge. He peers up at the Magitek device, and points. "What's this?" He really dislikes how his teeth chatter as he speaks, and he sets his jaw and hunches in on himself a little as though trying to escape the cold by making himself smaller.
Though Hythlodeaus had expressed a need for discretion in changing clothes, surely there being no one around and it being cold enough could warrant an exception. Couldn't have him freezing, could he?
Emet snaps his fingers, causing the aether in Hythlodaeus' clothing to glow and change into something new. This set of clothing is dark navy with black belts and gold trimmings. The fabric is thicker and lined with fur - with high boots, dark trousers, and a long coat. It's much more suitable for the cold weather. There's a blanket made of black fur drawn around his shoulders for good measure.
He continues his explanation as though nothing significant had happened. "It's Magitek. They're machines that the people of this nation use to make up for their magical ineptitude." He glances at Hythlodaeus. "The people here may hate and often fear magic. Be wary of your gifts in their company."
It's still strange to have his clothing change into something so different, but he appreciates the gesture regardless. He pulls the blanket around himself more and nods to the warning.
"I will." Heading towards the front door, he opens it and peers inside. It's a mess, but he sees the potential rather than the state it's currently in. "I think that with some care and a merry fire... we could at the very least stay here overnight and see how we feel about it."
And by 'we' he mostly means himself. Emet-Selch knows how it feels to stay here, after all. "So, if you would do the honours..." He looks back, smiling at his friend.
Emet follows close behind, shutting the door that threatens to rust off its hinges behind him. The passage of time is always strange; he could recall shutting that same flawless door a lifetime ago, now it sits old and rusting.
The main entryway has the same mechanical heaters that most residents of this size have, but they've fallen into the same disrepair as everything else. Fire seems the only option. Although that doesn't mean he will do so without complaint. So Emet lets out a dramatic sigh and holds out a hand toward the large hearth at the far end of the room. Fire bursts forth - not just in the hearth - but from every torch and hearth on the grounds all at once.
"If something else would meet your preferences more closely," Emet reaches over to a nearby table and picks up a dusty book with the emblem of the Garlean Empire on it," you only needs tell me what they are. I fear in the prevailing years I haven't learned to read minds."
"Well," he fixes Emet-Selch with a smile as he goes to stand by the nearest fire. "How did it look in its prime?" His eyes take in the lodge around them.
"I'd like it to look... like a home. Nothing fancy, just comfortable chairs and an air about it that says it's lived in. Perhaps a rug here-" He gestures to the floor in a sweeping motion. "-a bookshelf there..."
He eyes the rusted door, the broken windows. "And less rust, if it's all the same to you."
Emet takes note of Hythlodaeus' plans. Settling in already, it seems?
"It looked..." Emet glances off as he recalls the room so many years ago. His tone is not fond as he flatly says, "...busy. The common rooms were meant to impress more than be lived in."
Emet approaches some of the barely-hanging tapestries and takes them in hand. "I found private quarters to be more to my likings, such as the Library or Garden. They were lavishly decorated with the finest furnishings the Empire had to offer - quite a different pretense than now, I imagine." Impossible to imagine that they would have been preserved.
"Yes, well, we don't need the finest furnishings. We simply need something nice to look at, but comfortable. We aren't trying to impress anyone here."
He moves from the fire to head into the other rooms, and makes a 'tsk' sound at the broken down curtains and dusty bed.
"I'll leave the finer details to you, of course." He raises his voice to be heard, assuming Emet didn't follow him. "But could you please do something about this dust...?" It's depressing!
"Can I do something about the dust?" Emet gripes. All the power of the ancients at his disposal and this is what it's come to? "I am no chambermaid, Hythlodaeus."
He makes for one of the nearby chairs and takes a seat, a small plume of dust curling up into the air as if to emphasize his friends' point. He sits there, slumping in the chair, and coughs once as the cloud of dust dissipates.
The cross look on his face borders on annoyed, but tired at the same time. It has been quite an eventful day already.
"You'd live in squalor?" Hythlodaeus shrugs. "Then I suppose we're both going to suffer, aren't we?"
He proceeds to flop onto the bed, which groans under his weight; a veritable explosion of dust covers the room, and both men. Hythlodaeus isn't too worried about that, at least. He'll get Emet-Selch to clean it up eventually.
"Ah, home sweet home... come, take a nap with me. It has been an eventful day, hmm? I would spend some quiet time with you."
The dust settles and he coughs pointedly. Wow, it sure will be hard napping like this!
His leer doesn't cease while the purposefully provoked cloud of dust wafts in his direction. Oh, Hythlodaeus definitely did that with motive. Emet makes a disgusted noise, waves a hand in front of his face, and stands up to make his way over to the bedside.
Emet sits on the bed with a weary plop. The bed lets out another groan from the extra weight and then the entire bed pitches to one side as the rotten wood legs give way from the extra weight.
He looks to Hythlodaeus, surprised at first, but then his expression dips to flatness. With a just amount of surliness in his voice, he asks, "Oh, and I suppose you'll be wanting a place to sleep that is all but intact, too."
Hythlodaeus ends up rolling into Emet-Selch, where he seems surprised at first before dissolving into laughter. Burying his face into Emet's side, he has to compose himself a little before continuing.
"Why, yes. I had rather hoped for as much." He grins up at Emet-Selch from his spot near his waist. "Ah... the illustrious Emet-Selch of the Convocation of Fourteen, sleeping in a broken bed and covered in dust. Your image shall be forever tarnished."
If only there were people to tell of such a tale. Alas, Elidibus is the only one left, and would likely not see the humour in it.
Emet's scowl does relent a little when he sees Hythlodaeus break out into laughter. It cedes to a quirk of his eyebrow and an implication of a smile. Maybe it was a little amusing. Just a little.
"I think that's quite enough of this. Let us be done with this squalor." He finally relents and snaps his fingers.
There's a blinding light that surrounds them, brighter than any that there has been before, as the entire grounds shape into something new. The particular room they are in is furnished lavishly. There are vaulted ceilings trimmed with ornate designs, luxurious stone floors, and a beautifully ornate chandelier overhead.
More notably, it's clean, warm, and their bed - surrounded by thick drapery from the overhead canopy - is intact.
"Better." Emet comments, satisfied but obviously a little more tired.
Hythlodaeus moves from where he's pressed against Emet's back to give him room to lie on the bed once he's done with fixing the house up. He pats the sheets, and pulls the other man into an embrace once he does lie down.
"That's much better, yes. Was that really so difficult?" He chides gently, but he can see that it took some amount of energy out of Emet-Selch. He sits up slightly to lean over him, smiling. "Ah, I do envy your skills sometimes. If I could only fix an entire house up with just a click of my fingers!" There's obvious admiration in his gaze, though. He doesn't tend to lean towards envy, no matter what he says.
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It's probably a good thing the others are too noble to attack while Hythlodaeus is distracting him. His back is to them, they would have the perfect shot. "Would you leave me here alone?" He smiles, though it's sad. "Ah... but I did the same to you, did I not? I would deserve it. To walk alone for eons, your death on my conscience." To slowly go mad, as his dear partner has.
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"I would sooner tear down the sky than let you suffer such a fate," Emet responds with words quiet enough to be intended intimately.
What would be the best course of action, then? The light she bears is powerful enough to bring about the end of this world. It could easily bring about his end if she was able to wield it properly, of that he had no doubt. Though as a writhing monster of light it would be impossible to accomplish. Yet, even then, the life of an Ascian is not easily extinguished. Something else would have to be at play - as it had been with his other Ascian colleagues.
It seems like Hythlodaeus may have the right of it. Emet stands up straighter and addresses the group at large. "Very well. It seems that I've no choice but to leave you to suffer your own consequences." Emet says. "Farewell, so-called 'Warrior of Darkness'. It is likely that we will not meet again." And with that simple explanation, they're surrounded in black smoke tinged with purple, whisked away to another far-off destination.
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Maybe he finally understands why Emet is doing what he's doing. It doesn't make it right, but he's not just rejoining these worlds for nothing. Hythlodaeus still wants nothing to do with it, but he gets it now. If Emet-Selch feels half as strongly for Hythlodaeus as he feels for him... he would do so many terrible things to see him again, were it the other way around.
"I apologise, my friend. I simply couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
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"In how many ways will you save me, I wonder," Emet says with a sigh. "There is no need for an apology. I should be sorry for involving you in these unpleasant affairs." Although it stands to reason if he wasn't involved, then Emet wouldn't live to see the next day.
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Kissing him again, just glad that he's alive, he does pull back in order to gaze over the waters. Incredible to think that Emet-Selch could create an entire city underneath the waves, but...
"If we have truly doomed that world, how will you visit Amaurot again?"
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His expression shifts when Amaurot is mentioned. The likeness of his home is presumably doomed. It's a small blessing that he would not be there to witness what havoc the light would bring upon the city. Given he couldn't bear the thought of unmaking the city on its own, he couldn't think what he would do if he had to bear witness to it being torn apart by some wild beast.
"It can be recreated elsewhere." Difficult as it was to manifest the city the first time, surely creating it a second time would go smoother with a less addled state of mind. "Although it seemed as though you found my likeness of Amaurot wanting. I trust any like recreation would be just as unacceptable?"
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"I would prefer that you didn't make it again, though." He takes Emet-Selch's hand. "I would prefer that you try to make a new home. With me. Together, we shall find somewhere to call our own paradise. It will never be Amaurot, but it will be ours."
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However, he looks on with a certain amount of forced optimism. "Then may I provide us with another suggestion?" He's traveled all the corners of this world and one particular place comes to mind - A small slice of land in Garlemald, one that he would have dared to call beautiful some time ago.
"It is likely in some form of disrepair by now, but we could make it our own."
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"Disrepair matters not. After all, you could simply restore it with a click of your fingers." He presses Emet-Selch's hand to his own chest, smiling properly finally. "We must simply decide on what kind of home we'd like."
He kisses Emet's knuckles, the look in his eyes still speaking of fondness and love for his dearest friend.
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"Then let us look to our first option." With that, the entire boat is engulfed in wisps of black and purple. They continue to sail and emerge on waters far to the north. The cold air is the first notable sign they are somewhere far from where they were.
Off to their right, just on the edge of the water, is a lone house. The house - or lodge as its size would imply - is a long-forgotten retreat for Garlean dignitaries. It is surrounded by a dense forest that stretches for malms and malms. The structure is built from large twisting metal and chipped dark stone with large panel windows on all sides. Small waterfalls run down both sides of the house, and it appears as though some kind of strange Magitek device is positioned to take advantage of the falling water.
Time has definitely taken a toll on the once-beautiful building. Several of the windows have been broken out and it leaves the ground littered with slivers of glass. Stones have fallen out of the facing, metal structures have rusted, floorboards cracked, and all manner of debris litter the house inside and out. Even the Garlean flag that flies out front is in tatters.
Emet had only been here a few times during his tenure. Such luxuries were forgotten in the midst of the countries civil war. He glances to Hythlodaeus with an expectant look, as if to ask for an opinion.
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It's certainly a fixer-upper. But that seems to make no difference to him- he's already expecting that Emet-Selch can simply fix it however he likes. Hythlodaeus would certainly share his aether for the task, though if Emet can create an entire city he likely doesn't need Hythlodaeus' help in repairing a single building.
"It's beautiful," he murmurs, eyes fixed on it. "I find this a promising location." He doesn't know what the Magitek device is, admittedly. But he likes the look of it anyway. "Can we get a closer look?"
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"I don't intend that you gape at it from a distance," Emet replies by snarky way of 'yes'. Within an instant, they're brought to the shore in a wisp of black and purple smoke.
"I called this place home for a time." He makes to walk up onto some crumbling stone stairs that lead up from the beach. It's cold enough that there are some streaks of frozen water down the side of the stone. "This building was a retreat for Garlean dignitaries some years ago. I suspect they've long forgotten about it, here at the edge of the world."
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Making it up the stairs, he heads towards the lodge. He peers up at the Magitek device, and points. "What's this?" He really dislikes how his teeth chatter as he speaks, and he sets his jaw and hunches in on himself a little as though trying to escape the cold by making himself smaller.
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Emet snaps his fingers, causing the aether in Hythlodaeus' clothing to glow and change into something new. This set of clothing is dark navy with black belts and gold trimmings. The fabric is thicker and lined with fur - with high boots, dark trousers, and a long coat. It's much more suitable for the cold weather. There's a blanket made of black fur drawn around his shoulders for good measure.
He continues his explanation as though nothing significant had happened. "It's Magitek. They're machines that the people of this nation use to make up for their magical ineptitude." He glances at Hythlodaeus. "The people here may hate and often fear magic. Be wary of your gifts in their company."
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"I will." Heading towards the front door, he opens it and peers inside. It's a mess, but he sees the potential rather than the state it's currently in. "I think that with some care and a merry fire... we could at the very least stay here overnight and see how we feel about it."
And by 'we' he mostly means himself. Emet-Selch knows how it feels to stay here, after all. "So, if you would do the honours..." He looks back, smiling at his friend.
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The main entryway has the same mechanical heaters that most residents of this size have, but they've fallen into the same disrepair as everything else. Fire seems the only option. Although that doesn't mean he will do so without complaint. So Emet lets out a dramatic sigh and holds out a hand toward the large hearth at the far end of the room. Fire bursts forth - not just in the hearth - but from every torch and hearth on the grounds all at once.
"If something else would meet your preferences more closely," Emet reaches over to a nearby table and picks up a dusty book with the emblem of the Garlean Empire on it," you only needs tell me what they are. I fear in the prevailing years I haven't learned to read minds."
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"I'd like it to look... like a home. Nothing fancy, just comfortable chairs and an air about it that says it's lived in. Perhaps a rug here-" He gestures to the floor in a sweeping motion. "-a bookshelf there..."
He eyes the rusted door, the broken windows. "And less rust, if it's all the same to you."
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"It looked..." Emet glances off as he recalls the room so many years ago. His tone is not fond as he flatly says, "...busy. The common rooms were meant to impress more than be lived in."
Emet approaches some of the barely-hanging tapestries and takes them in hand. "I found private quarters to be more to my likings, such as the Library or Garden. They were lavishly decorated with the finest furnishings the Empire had to offer - quite a different pretense than now, I imagine." Impossible to imagine that they would have been preserved.
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He moves from the fire to head into the other rooms, and makes a 'tsk' sound at the broken down curtains and dusty bed.
"I'll leave the finer details to you, of course." He raises his voice to be heard, assuming Emet didn't follow him. "But could you please do something about this dust...?" It's depressing!
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He makes for one of the nearby chairs and takes a seat, a small plume of dust curling up into the air as if to emphasize his friends' point. He sits there, slumping in the chair, and coughs once as the cloud of dust dissipates.
The cross look on his face borders on annoyed, but tired at the same time. It has been quite an eventful day already.
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He proceeds to flop onto the bed, which groans under his weight; a veritable explosion of dust covers the room, and both men. Hythlodaeus isn't too worried about that, at least. He'll get Emet-Selch to clean it up eventually.
"Ah, home sweet home... come, take a nap with me. It has been an eventful day, hmm? I would spend some quiet time with you."
The dust settles and he coughs pointedly. Wow, it sure will be hard napping like this!
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Emet sits on the bed with a weary plop. The bed lets out another groan from the extra weight and then the entire bed pitches to one side as the rotten wood legs give way from the extra weight.
He looks to Hythlodaeus, surprised at first, but then his expression dips to flatness. With a just amount of surliness in his voice, he asks, "Oh, and I suppose you'll be wanting a place to sleep that is all but intact, too."
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"Why, yes. I had rather hoped for as much." He grins up at Emet-Selch from his spot near his waist. "Ah... the illustrious Emet-Selch of the Convocation of Fourteen, sleeping in a broken bed and covered in dust. Your image shall be forever tarnished."
If only there were people to tell of such a tale. Alas, Elidibus is the only one left, and would likely not see the humour in it.
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"I think that's quite enough of this. Let us be done with this squalor." He finally relents and snaps his fingers.
There's a blinding light that surrounds them, brighter than any that there has been before, as the entire grounds shape into something new. The particular room they are in is furnished lavishly. There are vaulted ceilings trimmed with ornate designs, luxurious stone floors, and a beautifully ornate chandelier overhead.
More notably, it's clean, warm, and their bed - surrounded by thick drapery from the overhead canopy - is intact.
"Better." Emet comments, satisfied but obviously a little more tired.
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"That's much better, yes. Was that really so difficult?" He chides gently, but he can see that it took some amount of energy out of Emet-Selch. He sits up slightly to lean over him, smiling. "Ah, I do envy your skills sometimes. If I could only fix an entire house up with just a click of my fingers!" There's obvious admiration in his gaze, though. He doesn't tend to lean towards envy, no matter what he says.
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