It happened when T'senri was rushing through the forest in Lakeland in the downpour, Alisaie, and Alphinaud at his sides. Pure ice in his veins and sword in hand, struggling to see through the heavy rain, the unusual sight instantly drew his attention.
Seeing Ardbert, axe drawn and rushing toward something with a shout full of fury and desperation was enough to chill his blood even more. Following his… rush with his gaze, seeing two Crystarium's soldiers slumped by the tree – hurt and clearly unaware of nearing them female-looking Sin-Eater – tore a furious snarl from Warrior's throat. But even as he sped up, putting all of his power and focus into reaching the beast before it could reach the soldiers – Raha's people, and by extension his – he knew he was not going to make it. The cold, calculating part of his mind – grown over the years of constant conflict – measured the space between him and them, and knew it was hopeless – spiking his rage to new heights.
He never fought for the cause – as many thought – neither for fame or glory. His first instinct was always to protect, and now, as awareness of the futility of trying to reach those men before the Sin-Eater caused the pure, ice-cold rage to sing in his blood, he still refused to give up.
Too late… too late… too late, the downpour seemed to mock him. When the time seemed to slow down as the beast raised its pale, monstrous hand over the unaware men…
"STOP!" he snarled involuntarily, putting all the rage and ice in his veins into it despite his certainty of how hopeless it was… and everything around him froze.
Too stunned as his foot slipped in the mud, he fell, at the same time feeling almost a violent pull as his consciousness was pulled back into him, his ringing ears barely registering the warning shout of his Ascian.
He felt only the echo of the ricochet of aether that had Ares howl in pain and grab 'their' head – instinctively knowing that if the immortal didn't pull his soul back, T'senri would be dead before he knew it.
It lasted maybe a few seconds – but the strange feeling of disembodiment made it feel like bells – until the Ascian in his body sagged against the ground, panting harshly as their muscles shook in the agony of aftershocks.
"That… answers the question if you… inherited my gift," he murmured, sitting back on his haunches and looking around with a tight jaw. "But the effect is… unexpected."
Everything around them was frozen, the Sin-Eaters, the soldiers, Scions, Ardbert, and even… the rain – heavy droplets hanging in the air as if uncertain if they were allowed to fall.
I did… this? He murmured, trying to collect his scattered wits as Ares stood up slowly and shakily, clearly wobbling, then picked up his sword, which he had to drop when he fell.
"Definitely," the immortal chuckled shakily, using the weapons to keep them upright. "It looks like… since you didn't precise the… receiver of the command, you stopped the time… itself – almost killing us in the process."
I'm… sorry? He was too shocked to truly comprehend the ramifications of this… development.
"It's fine," Ares sighed, gingerly wiping their face – his hand coming back with visible smudges of blood. "You didn't know. I also never… expected the sheer scope of this or the power of the backlash. I guess since this world is one-fourteenth of what it used to be… and you were involuntarily pulling on my aether in your rage – I shouldn't be surprised. We're lucky I expected and felt the ricochet before it could slam onto your soul…"
I was… what? He hesitated as the immortal stumbled forward slowly. I hurt… you?
"Unintentionally," Azem smirked weakly, heading through the frozen raindrops toward the unmoving now Sin-Eater. "You see when as I told you, I… ate the Esteem… I had to make up for the piece of your soul it was made of – I guess, binding our souls together even tighter. I already half-expected you to have access to my gift – being my reincarnation and as affected as you already were by my presence alone – but that… I think I unintentionally granted you access to my aether as well with that… interference. And since by Damon's spell my soul and consciousness are what they 'used to be' before our world was broken… Yeah, the effect is staggering," he sniggered quietly, sighed, and after reaching the beast, beheaded it in a swift movement.
That done, he bent forward, dropping the sword to the ground and panting harshly as he rested his hands against his knees.
"But as you see…" he gasped. "…and feel, it doesn't come free. Never did, though the backlash… was never this… painful before. I guess… being this far from Damon also doesn't… help. And I never tried to do something this… extreme."
I didn't mean to… T'senri started.
"I know," the immortal chuckled with a hint of amusement and straightened, picking up the sword again. "Just – for the future, though it would be better if you avoided ever using it again – you do have to precise the receiver of the command, Senri. I am powerful… but I don't think my soul or especially our body can take many hits like… this one. And since we're both not… much equipped with healing… as soon as this is over, have Raha check you and fix the damage… I'm pretty sure at least a few of our muscles and internal organs got hit badly. And it'll… get worse."
Huh? He winced, cursing his stupidity even as he felt the relief when Ares looked toward the soldiers – as despite the price… at least they were safe.
"Resuming the time will have the price as well," the immortal said with a hint of resignation. "I'll shield you again… but afterward I might need some… time to recover. If you can do something for me, boy?"
Anything, he assured fervently – after all, it was his… fault. His ignorance didn't change the fact that apparently Ares just saved his ass… And both of their souls, yeah… but still, his fault.
"I don't know… if I'll be able to speak to you… or do anything until I recover enough aether – especially with how much… thinner it is here – but do assure Damon that I'm… okay, and try to… stay near Raha, hm?" Azem sighed and looked around briefly before going back to the spot where they fell. "Also, tell them… that at least for now feeding your aether into the Tower won't be necessary. Surviving that hit.. took care of the vast… majority of that."
I… will, he hesitated, then almost curled in discomfort. I am sorry, Ares. And… thank you, for saving me… both then and now.
"Told you…" the immortal chuckled fondly, falling to his knees and bracing his arms against the ground in front of him. "…I like you, my boy. And now… this is my body as well. So… no need to thank me, Senri… Just… be careful, especially while I'm… unavailable, okay? And don't let Damon… get too… overbearing with you," he laughed softly, hanging his head down. "Gods know… he can… freak out a bit. Especially since I shielded… them from feeling and sharing that… hit."
They were… really alike, T'senri realized with more than a hint of sheepishness. Blinding relief and… gratefulness toward the Ascian living inside him – he didn't even think of his… slip affecting his mate. He still wasn't really… used to having one… but he would… hate it if he accidentally hurt Raha. And… Damon.
"Okay… get ready to take over," Ares gasped, noticeably bracing himself against the hit. T'senri almost… felt the aether – maybe the immortal's power – surging around him and the sheer amount of it… was mind-blowing. "I'll try to… keep it from affecting our body this time – so you are able to proceed… but yeah, it's probably… going to hurt like seven hells, boy."
I'm ready, he assured with determination, praying… he was. And by Ares's quiet snicker – he was more than aware of that.
"See you on the other side," Azem chuckled weakly as his… power swelled impossibly, tightening into a protective cocoon around T'senri's soul. "MOVE!" he howled, unleashing it in one blast.
T'senri collapsed to the ground – almost whimpering as the pure agony seemed to tear at his every muscle – coughing up blood and gasping for air desperately. Yet, feeling the rain pelt over his body in a thick downpour, he scrambled on the pure adrenaline to all fours, struggling to collect his bearings.
"T'senri!" he heard before someone jumped to his side. "What in the…?" Alphinaud gasped, then without a word the Warrior felt a wave of healing magic pour over his body and soothe some of the pain. Through the downpour, he saw Ardbert skid to a stop with shock as the headless body of the Sin-Eater fell to the ground and the ghost looked equally as relieved as surprised when he looked around with uncertainty.
"I'm… fine," he gasped, pushing against the ground and standing up a bit shakily. What hurt the most – if he allowed himself to dwell on that – was the absence in the back of his mind… and the mix of fear and fiery fury pouring over his bond to Raha. Even if he didn't feel the hit – now probably he could feel his pain. T'senri winced, but took a deep, steadying breath and picked up his sword, grinding his teeth as he delicately pushed the young healer away. "Let's go to… join the others," he said with steel in his voice, heading toward the sounds of the fight… in thought praying that Ares didn't lie to him – and that he will be fine.
But knowing himself and how similar they were… he wasn't sure.
Feeling the sheer amount of his mate's pain out of nowhere, had G'raha's heart stop for a long, long moment… and crumble to his knees in the middle of the Ocular, gasping for air desperately.
Senri was too far away for him to do anything… if he could, as the soul-tearing howl of his immortal almost crushed his mind. Instinctively whining in the back of his throat in pain and misery, he wrapped his mismatched hands around his head and curled into himself, fighting instant nausea.
I don't feel him, Damon whimpered, I don't feel Ares. Something happened… to him.
"Calm… calm down," he gasped, trying to collect his scattered thoughts. "I feel Senri… He's in pain… but alive. And…"
The door of the Ocular slammed open and one of the guards rushed in.
"The shields are…" the man… no, rather a young, Hume boy in guard's uniform gasped, then rushed to his side. "My lord!? What happened?"
"I'm fine," he said, trying to sound confident about that, but smiled gratefully when the boy helped him to stand up. "The shields…?"
"Ah, the shields are holding, my lord," the boy – Arnar, was it? – reported, backing away from him with a mix of worry and fear on his young face. "But there's still no news from the Ostall Imperative…"
"Thank you," G'raha whispered, then swallowed thickly and fighting against Damon's anguish and his own fear for his lover, straightened and fought to look more confident than he currently felt. "Notify me as soon as any… words arrive, Arnar."
"Yes, my lord!" the boy saluted, then rushed out of the round room.
Cursing the feeling of… helplessness and his inability to leave the confines of the city… he took a deep, steadying breath and turned around, heading toward the crystal mirror in the back of the Ocular – at least this way hoping to make sure Senri was okay… though he doubted that would help any with his immortal's mounting despair and fury.
Throughout the millennia, Hades thought he already saw and experienced everything that there was to experience… but actually seeing the world around him… simply stop, was definitely new. But what shocked him even more… was a brief, strange sensation almost reminding him of… Ares's gift.
He wasn't exactly sure what was that – and it disappeared before he had a chance to pinpoint its location to more than the battlefield the lands of mortals turned into under the assault of the Light-consumed beasts… But as he hovered in the air over it, watching the Warrior of Light from the Source struggle through it, his golden eyes narrowed into slits at the mortal.
The sneaking suspicion was beyond ridiculous… and absurd, but the quickly melting away sensation was… hard to ignore or misread.
A few times – be it in a joke or to present to him something – did his brother use his gift near him… and the sensation of it was quite… singular.
But how was it possible…? The mortal never before showed even a… sign of inheriting it, and if he was truly responsible for that… event… then how? The sheer amount of aether necessary for such a feat… was beyond anything any mortal should be capable of in this fragmented world.
He heard from Elidibus of a Primal capable of manipulating time – the Alexander – but how would a mortal do that…? Even if he did somehow inherit Ares's skill… he was a broken husk, nothing more…
This – as shocking as it was – warranted more careful observation of his target. And maybe… hurrying along his plans.