bellelurette | Epilogue

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Your stopped time has restarted. Whether you were in the grassy field or fighting for your life on the castle grounds, you'll suddenly find yourself in an untouched area of the gardens. Ish is back, and so are the items, and the dead.

You return to Chateau Ambregris with the certain knowledge that come Monday, you will greet a new week, in a home of your own choosing. No longer will the chime of the clocks hunt you down, no longer will the oppressive scent of roses haunt your senses, no longer will you be forced to watch the death of those you've come to love and hate.

Parting is such a bittersweet sorrow, isn't it?

Make merry one last time, in this castle of illusions. Ironically, your memories of this stolen time that never existed are the one thing that will truly remain to you.

END NOTES

🔮 All dead are revived as tsukumogami! Congrats on your immortality(?)
🔮 Any other contracts made with Ish will be honored
🔮 Characters may choose to leave for any world they desire.
🔮 Time has not passed while you were stuck in this loop!
🔮 There will be no cross-dimensional world travel, except for on Samhain (Witches New Year October 31st/November 1st). On these dates, Ish will enable everyone to visit each other's world freely.
🔮 Universal Communication will be possible, courtesy of Manba and Ish. Everyone who wants one will be given a small fox that can communicate with other foxes through voice and video; the foxes can talk and are fairly simple creatures, enjoy them and give them fried tofu once in a while.
🔮 Powers are on for the finale, but Ish will step in and yeet anyone who gets too out of hand back to their homeworld, so play nice! (or relatively nice. )

[OOC: Welcome to your epilogue! The timeloop is ended, the evil has been defeated, and you have some time to catch your breath in the castle before the rest of your life begins! ]

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( He had considered many, many times since the murder what he should say if - when - he sees G'raha again, because everyone spoke of it so certainly. He had thought and thought, and, like many of his other contemplations, he ended up back where he started - he has never been decisive or principled. He has always been free-flowing to a fault.

And so, even now, he also seems short on words. Oh, G'raha, one of his dearest friends - a title he know has been rescinded. His heart does ache, but... it's something he's learning to live with. )

... Would you prefer if you never saw me again? ( ... ) Or... did you want closure?

( Of what kind, he can't say. But he has made G'raha do him a service - and so here he is, offering something in turn. )

[ That's a difficult question, isn't it? Never seeing Hwylryn again was a different sentiment when he was still mortal. But he no longer is, once again having the life of a long-lived thrust upon him.

...Something he had done his best to correct.

And yet, here he is, with the dragon before him the reason why.

Despite himself, however, he's curious. What could Hwyrlyn even do? What would count as closure to him? ]

What closure would you offer?

I was hoping that you knew.

( Honest, as ever.

He settles on his forelegs and (further back) haunches, the way a cat does when parked in place but not too permanently. He hasn't been banished yet, so it seems he's here for now. )

You have a different attitude now than when it happened. ( Hwylryn too, but he doesn't know how to parse G'raha right now. ) I thought it'd help you at least to yell, if you didn't want to hurt me.

( And maybe he does, now that it's already happened. He does suspect G'raha's patience extended up until the act was finally done - and after that, the line was crossed, and there was not much returning from that. )

I don't know if you have it in you to remain understanding of me. But, if so, I don't think you have to be.

( AKA he's saying G'raha at least deserves to cuss him out, )

[ He would be right about that—G'raha was patient until the very last moment, when Junior put the bullet in his head. The threshold for his forgiveness and his patience had been crossed afterward.

There is a lot of pain that he can endure, but after a certain point... he has to determine whether he wants to risk such pain again.

Ever since that first week, he's run into the same problem again and again and again—he's humanized Hwylryn in his heart, even though he shouldn't have. ]

I cannot, and I do not know if I can forgive you again.

[ Or if he can, how long it might be before he calls Hwylryn to a location across the land he hates so much compared to the ocean. ]

You know that I was once immortal, or I am certain that you were able to hazard a guess as to the situation between my souls and my own age. As a result of your actions, you've undone the mortality I worked towards. How... can I possibly forgive that?

( In some ways, he did understand what endless time has done to him. And he had enough, before his change of heart over the course of his time here. So he is not in full ways surprised by G'raha's displeasure - but he did not make the connection, until now, how harried he'd be by it.

Mmm. Hwylryn makes a vague sound at the back of his throat, in thought. It's a deep sound, sort of like how a horse horfs, from his true vocal chords. His head rotates to the side, inclining an angle or two toward the earth. )

... May I assist in working to undo it?

( "May I," as assisting G'raha in this thing may be a privilege he may not be afforded, nor would he protest if G'raha's pride would prevent him from accepting the aid of something who had so terribly brutalized him.

A moment of consideration, and he adds: )

Not for forgiveness.

( He doesn't think he should be given it, given he'd have done the same thing again, even knowing the outcome would be as it is. )

[ It's now, in his full form, that G'raha really understands what it means that Hwylryn is a dragon. Even his voice is not unlike those back on his star, the way his head tilts like he's making an attempt to hear better.

The way Hwylryn asks for permission to undo it... it makes his chest ache and his stomach twinge, like his body remembers exactly where the knife pierced him and twisted.

He breathes out, soft, any poisonous words he'd had in his mind in that other garden gone upon the wind. Perhaps he's too forgiving, when it comes to it. A century should have hardened his heart and while it has in some ways, in many, many others, it remains as soft as it was when he read tales of the heroes of eld, hoping to one day be like them.

... ]

Not now. I have... much and more that I must sort out, if it is ever sorted at all.

[ After all, G'raha isn't the only one now that is no longer mortal. If he were alone like before, it would be an easy choice. He'd give up his pride and easily allow Hwylryn to do what he must to bring his form back to the way he worked so hard to bring it to. ]

Nevertheless, I would like it if you were to keep the possibility open.

( Perhaps, in the same way Hwylryn should have been better to not ask Junior at all to assist him, he should have left those he's harried alone. It is their right - more than earned, for a burden they did not want - to find some way to rearrange themselves whole without Hwylryn sticking his claws into things again, substituting their compromised consent for a kinder course of action.

But here he is, regardless, waiting patient for G'raha's answer - G'raha, grounded enough to be upset with him, but too kind to tell him off as soon as Hwylryn alighted. )

Very well.

( He chirps, content with this. )

It's the least I can do. ( True, but. ) And if you don't wish to reach me directly, I think you can use those little foxes to reach Junior. They're where I'll be.

( Against popular demand! He will be remaining with them both ! )

You are more graceful than I deserve.

( He will not thank him for it, because it's not necessarily appropriate - it's not something G'raha should be giving him. But he will not seem apologetic for it, either - because he is not ashamed of what he is, deserving or undeserving. Frankly, he thinks being apologetic would be an insult to the suffering he put G'raha and Sariel through - what he did to them, he must wear with pride, regardless of censure. (This is a more Northern attitude, in the end.) After all, he cannot undo it, nor truly right it.

But he would remark upon it. And so it becomes a neutral statement of fact. )

Edited 2025-04-08 02:47 (UTC)

Am I? I would not apply that label to the way I am handling my feelings.

[ He doesn't know that he's graceful in any sense of the word, even outside of this particular situation. The pettiness he feels in his worst moments and the cruel thoughts that have entered his mind since that night... that's not graceful. Sure, he's holding back and he's choosing to let things be, but that isn't graceful either.

Is grace letting things settle because it's easier?

He doesn't think that it is. ]

You may hear from me one day, in that case. Though I cannot say how far into the future that may be, or if I will pick up should you call upon me instead.

[ There are so many determining factors in this and so many things he needs to deal with on his own before he can even ponder upon what he may or may not do in any given situation. ]

For what it is worth, I enjoyed our friendship. I had hoped that you would learn from it... that you would understand mortals more through me.

[ But it seems Hwylryn didn't, and now they share the trait of immortality. Funny how that works, isn't it? ]

I will wait.

( He answers simply. And if that call does not come, then that will be that.

But it is not death. It is not a goodbye. And so long as things do not end between them through the full severance of G'raha's life - in a way Hwylryn can see, mind - then he will flow onward, just as he had said, thinking that they may meet again one day, for better or worse.

Because, so long as they both remain alive, there will always be a chance.

To this final statement, Hwylryn takes a moment before he answers: )

It has been only a month. ( That they remember, at least, but. ) In my long life— to you... perhaps that is only about ten minutes of your time. I am learning. I have not learned well. I will need time. And it will not be easy.

( He crosses his arms one over another in a strange line, a little X, a little ways back. It's unclear what emotion this expresses, if any at all. )

Perhaps I can understand why your peoples have been warring with the dragons of your home, if this is how it goes. ( Maybe not down to the minutiae, but. ) It must be frustrating for mortals to think they've wasted their time, and dragons to feel as if they've just begun.

( And so G'raha has now experienced this first-hand. He will thus circle back to their first conversation, which had been largely theory - and can now be re-examined in practice: )

Do you think it is better off, then, if they never speak to one another? That, perhaps... the work is agonizing, and the fruit not worth the labor?

[ But he plans to learn, or will at least make an attempt, is what G'raha reads into his words. Maybe he shouldn't and he shouldn't expect anything at all, but... he can't help it.

Hwylryn was a friend, and putting those feelings behind him is impossible. He can't. His heart can't crystallize within several days' time. G'raha never has been—and never will be—that sort of person.

And Hwylryn will wait, and he will hope and assume that they will meet again so long as they both live, and they will both live for a long, long time yet to come. It's with a soft breath escaping past his lips that he listens, Hwylryn's voice dancing on the air like the dragons back home. That question stings somewhat, and it shows in G'raha's expression as it tightens and he takes a step forward. ]

Never. Hard work will occasionally meet with failure, but that does not determine its worth. I have seen firsthand what man and dragon can accomplish together.

[ He thinks about Radz-at-Han, about the people who were saved by their ruler, a dragon. ]

The fruit this time was bitter, but that does not mean that it cannot ripen into something beautiful, something coveted. Mayhap the labor required to puzzle out your intricacies and come to a mutual understanding will simply take more time.

I can only hope that you will be amenable to allowing those changes to wash over you like the ebb of waves upon a rock's surface.

( The answer doesn't surprise him, knowing what he knows of G'raha, but he had considered that G'raha might be more reticent to give it - that, perhaps, he'd have found his resolve challenged, and needed a postponement. He would have been okay with that.

But that G'raha proceeds is remarkable, as ever. Would that he have such resolve. Maybe one day - if he does well and truly change. If it's still possible, for someone like him. )

. . . I would like that. If I think on it now... it's true that there doesn't exist a part of the land that never changes.

( And, as a part of nature, he should remain in motion, shouldn't he? )

I'll only hope I don't exhaust my mortal companions before they see a river split the land into a canyon.

( With time. Maybe longer than is fair to ask for, but such as it is.

If anything, though, and to G'raha's credit: )

. . . I don't feel as if I've learned nothing from you, for what it's worth. ( Even before the murders - let's set aside that. ) I think things that may seem small to you have been, at times, revolutionary to me.

( So not all changes, he thinks, are invisible - and maybe this doesn't change the acrid taste of what their friendship finally became.

But it might be worse to feel that nothing came of it but a bloody end. He wonders if it feels better for G'raha to know he had begun to teach him something, even if the conclusion Hwylryn drew from the equation was wrong. )

I think I learn a little bit with each conversation, things I haven't gotten just from passing humans on shore... even as we speak now.

[ So he did have an impact? G'raha doesn't know how that makes him feel, not when the impact he had on Hywlryn resulted in his own death. Not when he tried to reason with Hwylryn at the end, foregoing defensive measures because he didn't want the dragon to misinterpret it as agreement for his actions.

G'raha wanted peace and he tried for peace and it didn't work out.

It's why he falls silent, contemplative as he tries to sort through the messy, tangled web that has become his own emotions over the last few weeks, and especially the last few days. ]

But I have to wonder, Hwylryn... what lessons do you take from our conversations? How do those words settle in your heart and impact your thoughts and actions? You must understand my hesitance now, to impart my true thoughts and feelings upon you when I feel an anxiousness settle in my stomach at the thought that you may twist what I say into something that removes the intention behind it entirely.

[ His feelings manifest into... a scolding, he supposes. ]

( Hwylryn makes a contemplative sound. He seems to think on it, for a time. )

How do you clarify this kind of confusion between mortals? ( Like, making sure that your intentions are being understood the intended way by the opposite party. ) It can't be that you all have perfect understanding, right?

( Certainly not, given G'raha has told him how extensively they engage in war. In any case, the question is not leading - it's genuine. As if it might be some sort of clue. )

... If I've learned anything, I think... it's that mortals have shades of nuance in everything. A mortal that likes flowers today might not like them tomorrow. Because today and tomorrow are not the same.

( A simple example, but he hopes the meaning carries. Mortals are small - physically, and their emotions are - granular. Easy to miss, he's realizing. He exists with a broader view, lives on for an endless breadth of time, and has lived on with a very simple view of life. Even his vocabulary falls into broad buckets of feelings.

But while he might not have understood every little thing, he thinks he can pull out this theme. And from this theme he can extrapolate, maybe.

(gold star pls) (or at least silver if you're mad) )

I believe you have the right of it. Today and tomorrow [ and tomorrow and tomorrow ] are not the same. Much and more can change from one day to the next, leaving our own feelings in flux. What has occurred the night before could have an impact in such a way that one’s feelings towards such an event would change come dawn.

[ That’s how mortals are. Unchanging, everchanging. ]

You… would do well to remember that, to burn such a lesson into your heart if you want to understand.

[ He doesn’t know if he can count himself among those Hwylryn should try to understand anymore, but his point still stands. ]

( It's true G'raha's words may not have their fullest meaning clear to him yet, but he will tuck them away as he tucks away clams and shells as gifts, and he will take them home with them. Perhaps in a decade, in fifty years, perhaps more - he'll understand better.

But, like G'raha, he doesn't think these things lack meaning. Even if they seem so small and insignificant now. )

Then, I hope if you call on me one day, you'll find yourself impressed by my progress.

( And so he does not need G'raha to call too soon - even though he will miss him, and he will miss what they had; Hwylryn needs time to grow, too. )

And I hope I'll get to share your stories with me again. I'll work very hard for that.

( But, well... until then. )

I hope that I do as well. Dragons are impressive creatures, and I know that you possess the capability to impress me.

[ G'raha can only hope that it will be a positive thing, but he will temper his expectations. Dragons are unpredictable creatures, too, and Hwylryn is fickle on top of that. The winds of change may blow him elsewhere entirely. ]

I will surely have plenty more stories by then.

[ And plenty of old ones to share—that's the benefit of having once been immortal before, in a sense. ]

Fare thee well, Hwylryn.

[ The use of his name rather than "friend" is something Hwylryn might notice, too, because that title doesn't exist between them anymore. Maybe it will one day, sometime in the far future. Only time will tell, and they have plenty of it.

Until then. ]

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Epilogue

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