Bazz recognizes it instantly. How could he not? He’d spent the happiest years of his long life here. Even the trees themselves are achingly familiar, and to his absolute horror he feels his eyes start to prickle. Which is not something he’s even remotely ready to deal with right now. It’s just that this place has so many memories attached to it.
He’d known he’d never see their forest again, when he followed Jugram to the Sternritter, but — but he hadn’t accepted it. Not really. There’d always been this hope, futile as it was, that maybe Jugram would see reason. That maybe they could go back to the idyllic days of youth. But he’d — they had — pledged to kill Yhwach. He had to move on, which was easier said than done. But now they’re inside of Jugram’s door, back in their forest. It should be impossible, but here they are.
(There’s a lot about this twisted afterlife that should be impossible.)
What does it mean, that this is on the other side of Jugram’s door? The doors lead somewhere personal, he knows that. But Jugram had all but renounced their past when he’d joined Yhwach, when he’d spent centuries ignoring Bazz, when his broadsword had gone through his body like butter. Jugram had made it clear that the time they’d spent together in the forest was unimportant.
Because if Jugram had cared about their past, he wouldn’t have murdered him.
But Bazz also isn't going to let this go. ]
Did you… [ He trails off, not entirely sure what he was going to say. ] You remember.
[ He sits down on the grass, cross-legged. Looks around with wonder. Details about the forest he hadn’t even known he’d forgotten come back, like the almost imperceptible sound of the leaves.
no subject
Bazz recognizes it instantly. How could he not? He’d spent the happiest years of his long life here. Even the trees themselves are achingly familiar, and to his absolute horror he feels his eyes start to prickle. Which is not something he’s even remotely ready to deal with right now. It’s just that this place has so many memories attached to it.
He’d known he’d never see their forest again, when he followed Jugram to the Sternritter, but — but he hadn’t accepted it. Not really. There’d always been this hope, futile as it was, that maybe Jugram would see reason. That maybe they could go back to the idyllic days of youth. But he’d — they had — pledged to kill Yhwach. He had to move on, which was easier said than done. But now they’re inside of Jugram’s door, back in their forest. It should be impossible, but here they are.
(There’s a lot about this twisted afterlife that should be impossible.)
What does it mean, that this is on the other side of Jugram’s door? The doors lead somewhere personal, he knows that. But Jugram had all but renounced their past when he’d joined Yhwach, when he’d spent centuries ignoring Bazz, when his broadsword had gone through his body like butter. Jugram had made it clear that the time they’d spent together in the forest was unimportant.
Because if Jugram had cared about their past, he wouldn’t have murdered him.
But Bazz also isn't going to let this go. ]
Did you… [ He trails off, not entirely sure what he was going to say. ] You remember.
[ He sits down on the grass, cross-legged. Looks around with wonder. Details about the forest he hadn’t even known he’d forgotten come back, like the almost imperceptible sound of the leaves.
Fuck. Bazz ducks his head and rubs his eyes. ]