[As the song came to a gentle repose, Byleth felt an indescribable emotion as always. A longing without a target, a heavy sadness that had nothing to pin it to, and a comfort that stung just as it soothed. Jeralt had told him Sitri would sing this all the time when pregnant with him, that she had wanted him to know it... that Byleth never heard it from her, only a muddled, half-forgotten version that Jeralt had passed on with an untuned ear.
It was only when Sothis woke up that the song had been polished, refined - but it still wasn't Sitri's. Sothis had changed the words, tweaked the melody back to its original format, and Byleth didn't know if that was how Sitri had sang it, or if it was a tweak she had made herself. He couldn't ask, and Jeralt's increasingly spotty memory couldn't remember. The vague idea of 'Sitri', of 'mother', was further smudged into obscurity, and singing the song only reminded him of that fact. As time advanced, so too did the memory of Sitri drift further away. He didn't even know what she looked like.
A part of him acknowledged that it these emotions were illogical. They served no purpose. Why sing a song that made him feel sad? Because it also made him happy. The human heart was a contrary, self-torturing thing, he was beginning to discover, even if that heart no longer beat.
Byleth pushed these thoughts aside, though, and opened his eyes to Set looking away from him. He couldn't make out his expression, and for a moment Byleth wondered if he found his singing offensive or unpalatable somehow - not hurtful, exactly, but disappointing. He had sang in hopes of uplifting Set's mood in some way, not to upset or annoy him. But before Byleth could apologise for his unsatisfactory voice:]
Wh- I... I am?
[Byleth's voice audibly stumbled, he was taken so off-guard. This was something, he was realising, that was unique to Set. Even though they were still practically strangers - acquaintances, at most - Set saw through his blank expressions and his flat voice and understood the core of him effortlessly. There was no accusation of coldness, of being an unfeeling demon - Set looked at him, barely knew him, and said "you are full of feeling and sentiment".
Not even Claude - not even Jeralt... was this the true omniscience of a god, he couldn't help but wonder. Sothis understood him viscerally too, but as she lived within the very depths of him, could glean his emotions by casting an eye over his thoughts, so she never really counted. Set existed outside of him, and just- understood.]
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It was only when Sothis woke up that the song had been polished, refined - but it still wasn't Sitri's. Sothis had changed the words, tweaked the melody back to its original format, and Byleth didn't know if that was how Sitri had sang it, or if it was a tweak she had made herself. He couldn't ask, and Jeralt's increasingly spotty memory couldn't remember. The vague idea of 'Sitri', of 'mother', was further smudged into obscurity, and singing the song only reminded him of that fact. As time advanced, so too did the memory of Sitri drift further away. He didn't even know what she looked like.
A part of him acknowledged that it these emotions were illogical. They served no purpose. Why sing a song that made him feel sad? Because it also made him happy. The human heart was a contrary, self-torturing thing, he was beginning to discover, even if that heart no longer beat.
Byleth pushed these thoughts aside, though, and opened his eyes to Set looking away from him. He couldn't make out his expression, and for a moment Byleth wondered if he found his singing offensive or unpalatable somehow - not hurtful, exactly, but disappointing. He had sang in hopes of uplifting Set's mood in some way, not to upset or annoy him. But before Byleth could apologise for his unsatisfactory voice:]
Wh- I... I am?
[Byleth's voice audibly stumbled, he was taken so off-guard. This was something, he was realising, that was unique to Set. Even though they were still practically strangers - acquaintances, at most - Set saw through his blank expressions and his flat voice and understood the core of him effortlessly. There was no accusation of coldness, of being an unfeeling demon - Set looked at him, barely knew him, and said "you are full of feeling and sentiment".
Not even Claude - not even Jeralt... was this the true omniscience of a god, he couldn't help but wonder. Sothis understood him viscerally too, but as she lived within the very depths of him, could glean his emotions by casting an eye over his thoughts, so she never really counted. Set existed outside of him, and just- understood.]