Mithos Yggdrasill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
imatreenow) wrote2013-06-06 07:39 pm
imatreenow) wrote2013-06-06 07:39 pm
twenty [action]
[Almost a week ago Mithos had returned from a mission, the first he'd ever volunteered for. It may have seemed a strange choice for someone who trusted no one, who loathed being a pawn for others, to submit himself as a lab rat for combat testing, but his choices are narrowing around him. There is something he is after. Something he can finally close his fingers around, after watching it all scream past him for so long. If he is going to be used by the Malnosso regardless of his choices, it is better that he gains something from it - which he'd had to remind himself many times to dampen the sour taste sitting in the back of his throat.
Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.
Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]
Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.
Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]
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But this latest statement, Mitho's stillness, it ran a chill down Aang's spine. He couldn't articulate a proper response - instead muttering fearfully.]
No... N-no, Mithos. No...
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You have no idea what I went through after my sister's death...what it felt like to fail to resurrect her over and over again...to come so close to achieving everything I'd dreamed of only to have it ripped away from me! And then finding out that-- [Martel hadn't wanted any of it to begin with. He stops himself, wanting to hold that shameful secret as close to himself as possible.]
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You had to let her go. [It sounds like The Guru's words - so hauntingly familiar. And perhaps in a way Aang can see now, that this is what he was being warned against. Aang had been able to hold onto his attachment to Katara and bring the world towards balance. But this mirror of Mithos showed how it could have gone wrong, horribly wrong, if that attachment were to spiral out of healthiness and rule over him. And make him into a sad god, trying to recreate the same girl over and over again. Because what did the rest of the world matter when she was his world?
He moves hand over his stomach to stop from heaving at the thought]
Because all life is precious. And that makes all life irreplaceable.
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Don't you understand? That's why I had to bring her back to my side! I tried as hard as I could for as long as I could, because I needed her.
Do you know why Lloyd had to kill me? Because I refused to back down - because I would rather be dead than live in a world where I know I'll never see my sister again!
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[He says quietly, stepping back at the fury of his outburst.]
You couldn't bring her back through other people. But... but your life shouldn't end, either.
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[He says with a nod, and then he unfurls his staff into glider form.]
I'll leave you alone.