[ Like her, he assumes their connection to be forged anew in the shape of their tenuous pact; the god of war bequeathing his undivided attention upon the struggles of a warrior-maiden, unerring in his confidence regarding her development. Set has never favored anyone, and so the sensation of Hayame's existence is new to him. Her presence is subtle, but unequvocably fastened to him - bound by a length of red hair, and the whisper of what godhood lingered within him. It was because of her that he had rexamined his current methodology, assessing the need for his full divinity if he was to properly bestow upon her a war-god's blessing.
( He pursues the shape of her soul, into the belly of the beastly castle. Hunting for her, stern of brow and snarling of tooth. There is a part of him that yearns for her success, for it will reflect upon him well; another part simply hopes she rejects him one day, long before she learns the truth of him. )
The hall of mirrors is one he has heard whispers of. Other Shard-Bearers had ventured into it, only to be met by violent apparitions in the shape of themselves. How many, he wondered, had defeated the illusions and how many more were replaced by them? For Hayame to have gone there, alone and armed with only her intuition and strength of arm -- it pleases him to know she yet lives, that she has triumphed over her own self. ]
How else are you to get a good rest, if you do not return in time for one? Such a thing is important for your continued health.
[ In the face of her cool voice, he is something warm and savage.
There is pride, eminating from him. She is alive, she survives. Every challenge she conquers will bring her one step closer to every goal she wishes to achieve; the recreation of her world, the death of the demon she so loathes. The one he has now met, at that. ]
I am here.
[ Single-mindedly, he has found his way to her. Standing there, at the top of the stairs; blood-red and gazing upon her collapsed form without judgment or pleasure. Only in patient question: will she climb alone, or will she accept his aid? ]
no subject
( He pursues the shape of her soul, into the belly of the beastly castle. Hunting for her, stern of brow and snarling of tooth. There is a part of him that yearns for her success, for it will reflect upon him well; another part simply hopes she rejects him one day, long before she learns the truth of him. )
The hall of mirrors is one he has heard whispers of. Other Shard-Bearers had ventured into it, only to be met by violent apparitions in the shape of themselves. How many, he wondered, had defeated the illusions and how many more were replaced by them? For Hayame to have gone there, alone and armed with only her intuition and strength of arm -- it pleases him to know she yet lives, that she has triumphed over her own self. ]
How else are you to get a good rest, if you do not return in time for one? Such a thing is important for your continued health.
[ In the face of her cool voice, he is something warm and savage.
There is pride, eminating from him. She is alive, she survives. Every challenge she conquers will bring her one step closer to every goal she wishes to achieve; the recreation of her world, the death of the demon she so loathes. The one he has now met, at that. ]
I am here.
[ Single-mindedly, he has found his way to her. Standing there, at the top of the stairs; blood-red and gazing upon her collapsed form without judgment or pleasure. Only in patient question: will she climb alone, or will she accept his aid? ]