Fondness it were for any being free,
To covet fetters, though they golden be.
- Edmund Spenser
He dipped down into Leonhart's mind and drank up what he saw like a Communion, let the memories wash over him like an ablution. He could convince himself, sometimes, that this boy's mind was a mirror--that if he looked hard enough, he would see himself somewhere. That if Leonhart looked back, he would see someone familiar.
If Leonhart looked back, he would see the Enemy.
A part of him knew this--the knowledge rested within him, a cold hard certainty that rested heavily against his stomach like the intruding blade of a knife. And every time he twisted away from it, it only hurt more--it followed him, tainting the flavour of memory and driving him towards despair.
-
Dyne always woke up afraid, but the barren silence of the ruined country had not threatened him... yet.He stood and walked outside, his heart making light little tremors of meaningless trepidation. In the first few moments of waking, he was always afraid of disappearing--of being subsumed by the world, becoming something of no more importance than any one of a million cracks in the parched ground.
"The bearer of the light casts the deepest shadows," he said, balancing himself with one foot firmly before the other. "That is his greatest curse."
Of course, the serpent hissed into his mind, it could be argued that way.
Dyne faltered, his precise balance interrupted. "...what other way is there?"
It could be counted your greatest strength.
"The darkness?"
You think that power comes from light, Lucem Fero. The serpent laughed. You never considered that you might also bear the darkness.
"The darkness is--the darkness is not something that is borne. It simply is."
It follows you shade-like, the serpent asserted, and sweeps your path behind you. It is your legacy, and the legacy of all of Hyne's descendants, the World's enemies.
"The Light does not force enmity," Dyne protested.
The Light creates the Darkness.
"But not all Sorceresses become evil."
Not all acorns grow to oaks. This has no bearing on the acorn's fundamental truth.
"Which is?"
With all its being, it wishes that it might.
-
She is still and silent, turning infirmary bed to bier, and he is terrified that he has lost her.(Rinoa... you feel so cold.)
"You were so full of life...."
She is cold and still and corpselike and Dyne fights a thrill of pleasure at the thought.
"I want to hear your voice."
(This is like talking to a wall.)
Futility weighs inside him like a swallowed stone, and it is not allowing him to leave.
How sad.
(I'll do whatever it takes.)
He would die before he hurt her.
He would die before he watched her die.
But he wasn't given the choice, was he?
(Rinoa... give me another chance.)
(I can't even save Rinoa? Come on, think!)
"You want to live, right? You want to go back and see everyone, right?"
"And not become other people's memories?"
The danger is not in becoming another's memory. The danger is in becoming your own.
"I don't want the future. I want the present to stand still. I just want to stay here with you...."
(Rinoa....)
"...I can't stay with you any more, Squall."
(...am I just supposed to let you go?)
Dyne watches intently.
She is terrified. He is terrified. Dyne watches intently.
(I can't even save Rinoa? Come on, think!)
"I should go now. ......I'm ready."
(...this is what Rinoa decided. There's nothing I can do about it... right?)
Dyne knows that he is wrong. It is the strength of a Knight, and he will die before he hurts her.
(I'll... I'll be your knight.)
He does not think when he goes to free her. He falls into it--caught in the gravity of the moment, moving inexorably toward the motion's conclusion.
He sees the cable before him, and knows without wondering that it is the obstacle.
He is armed and he draws without thinking; without thinking, he cuts.
-
The serpent watched him as he mined the land for magic more precious than gold or gems, as he pulled power to himself like some great heat-sink, a black hole miser who collects and collects and collects simply because having is equated with needing. He watched as the ancient power, potent and heady as well-aged wine, washed over him and through him and about him and became him. He was a Power. A young god.Dyne Ascendant.
He did not stop his pulling--his thirst was not yet quenched, and might never be. "I am Dyne Ascendant, Power of the gods, God of the Power."
The serpent regarded him. This land is too dead for you. It is dry and filled with ghosts.
"I will assume the ghosts. They will be mine."
Covetous, Dyne Ascendant.
"You say these things as if they are sins."
Covet not, Dyne Ascendant. All things are toxic in excess.
"There is no reason in your warning. I am doomed already. I am the mugger, murderer, and rapist. I am the Damned."
Damned and yet damnable. Lucem Fero, you already bear the Light.
"And it shall shine brighter." Dyne's eyes were closed, his hands outstretched. "I am the world's enemy. This fact follows as the Shadow follows the light. There is no redemption, so I will live the part, and take the world's own life-blood if it will yield it to me."
You will perish horribly.
"I have already perished horribly."
You are still alive.
"I and my doom are one and the same." Dyne opened his eyes. "You are a tempter and a deceiver."
I am as I am.
"I don't believe you are."
Summoning a Guardian Force was something he had read texts on and never done, but they were layman's experiences and had nothing to do with him. Laymen could summon great powers and they might come at their leisure; a Sorcerer, in the right mindset, could put out a Summons nothing could resist. And so the serpent flickered into existence before him, rearing high above him, far greater and stronger that Dyne's frail human body could ever be.
Red eyes peered down at him, lurid and lewd. "Thissss isss mosst unwelcome, Assscendant," the dry voice said.
"You are faithless," Dyne spoke--to him and through him. "Without merit or virtue. You do not have it within you to love."
"Nor within you to be loved, Assssscendant."
"Untrue." Dyne turned his back--exposing bare shoulders to killing fangs. "I will be loved... if not by you, than by others."
"You cannot forsssse love, Dyne. Who issss there who would love you?"
"You are a liar and a fool, serpent," Dyne said. "Love is devotion, and you can force devotion."
"You cannot--"
"I am the Sorcerer, and I can. I can do whatever I want. I can make you die before you hurt me."
"Thissss issss not love."
"It is love without the fondness, and what time do I have for that in the best of cases?" Dyne smiled. "Gravity tells us to love the earth and never leave her. When we realize we have no choice, the earth is loved. Gravity, serpent--if we could leap amongst the stars, we would leave this dreary place behind in an ecstasy of freedom. But we cannot, and so we name her lush and beautiful. Gravity, serpent. The world will love me."
The serpent was silent, and Dyne smiled at his victory.
And for the first time, the serpent felt fear.
-
(...this is what Rinoa decided. There's nothing I can do about it... right?)"It was Rinoa's decision. She was scared about being a sorceress... scared of being feared, hated."
(Even if you end up as the world's enemy, I'll....)
"Scared that no one would want to be around her... she said she couldn't handle that."
(Rinoa....)
"Rinoa, just stay close to me."
It is not that he has no choice; it is not that he perceives no choice. It is that there is no choice to be had or perceived. He has entered the moment. He sees the obstacle, and he cuts.
He cuts.
He cuts.
Then the two halves of the cable snap and fall away, and the Sorceress falls into his arms, and the moment is brought to an ending.
And behind his smile, there is another.
Dyne is watching, and believes he understands.