[Mikleo has had a lot of time to remember, too. He's spent countless nights dreaming of laying beneath a sky so filled with endless stars, the darkness in between may as well have not existed. Hidden discoveries in temples so ancient they don't have a name. The scent of old tobacco in the old man's pipe. The feeling of dusty pages beneath their fingertips as they pored over the Celestial Record.
He isn't that boy anymore, and hasn't been for a long time, but the memories are so strong and so tangible that he simply can't speak at all. It comes back to him as a flood, his mind filling in the rest of the blanks: Sorey as he smiled up at them, and Mikleo floated away; Sorey's sad expression when he thought no one was looking; the knot between the Shepherd's brows when he thought he could get away with making decisions for Mikleo. And the two of them standing atop a grassy cliff in the same sunny spot, with all of Glenwood rolling out beneath them, half-shrouded in fog.
He remembers that last night, too.
I forget who said it. That there are as many emotions as stars in the sky. I can totally see that. Sorey had often looked at the sky while they journeyed.
A metaphor for how each emotion sparkles in its own way, huh? Must’ve been a romantic who came up with that one. (Mikleo hadn't been looking at the sky at all.)
There is no doubt that the man before him is his Sorey, even with his soft hands and the slightly sharper lines of his silhouette. He might not recall everything about Mikleo but it's enough, it's enough, and the slight trembling of his pale hands tells everything in his heart. But the seraph can't move. He's paralyzed, head bowed, his feet rooted in place by the appearance of the person he's been missing for years.
He can only stand there silently as tears roll down his cheeks.]
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He isn't that boy anymore, and hasn't been for a long time, but the memories are so strong and so tangible that he simply can't speak at all. It comes back to him as a flood, his mind filling in the rest of the blanks: Sorey as he smiled up at them, and Mikleo floated away; Sorey's sad expression when he thought no one was looking; the knot between the Shepherd's brows when he thought he could get away with making decisions for Mikleo. And the two of them standing atop a grassy cliff in the same sunny spot, with all of Glenwood rolling out beneath them, half-shrouded in fog.
He remembers that last night, too.
I forget who said it. That there are as many emotions as stars in the sky. I can totally see that. Sorey had often looked at the sky while they journeyed.
A metaphor for how each emotion sparkles in its own way, huh? Must’ve been a romantic who came up with that one. (Mikleo hadn't been looking at the sky at all.)
There is no doubt that the man before him is his Sorey, even with his soft hands and the slightly sharper lines of his silhouette. He might not recall everything about Mikleo but it's enough, it's enough, and the slight trembling of his pale hands tells everything in his heart. But the seraph can't move. He's paralyzed, head bowed, his feet rooted in place by the appearance of the person he's been missing for years.
He can only stand there silently as tears roll down his cheeks.]