"Wise words," you acknowledge, with a small nod. If it is for only their sake... That's fine. You press another matter of your curiosity. "Your eikon was unlike any other I have seen or heard of."
That gets a snort. "Most beast tribes aren't calling on gods who don't fight," Asch replies. "Gods of protection, gods of conquest - Lorelei isn't either of those. Insofar as it's a god at all, it's a god of memory and healing."
You've always been raised to see gods only as another weapon of war. "What other purpose would a god have?" you say. "Why put faith in something that cannot protect its people? Whether it be a god or a ruler, people always want for something stronger to defend them."
"Do they?" Asch asks. "Why don't you go ask the Resistance guards on the other side of that door that question?"
You're taken aback enough that you can't reply before he continues, "People will protect themselves so long as they can do so. They only turn to gods for the things they cannot do. You've seen for yourself how advanced Garlemald's weapons of war are in comparison to the rest of the world. If you're facing down the likes of the Weapons or even a magitek cannon armed with only bows and melee arms, wouldn't it seem an impossible task to defend your home and family? What recourse besides gods do those people have to protect their freedom?"
You don't answer. You think of the Diamond Weapon picking Valens up, crushing him in one great mechanical hand, armor and all, and you do not have an answer. In comparison to mortal men, that machine may as well have been a god, that you cannot deny.
Asch leaves you long enough to consider it, and then adds, flippantly, "Anyway, Lorelei's purpose was to drain the planet dry of aether and then collapse into itself in order to trigger a Rejoining, so it doesn't matter. The Ascians created it and the prophecy that sustained it, and then it was just a matter of waiting around for Auldrant to die."
That draws your attention. "A creation of the Ascians?" you say. "And still you make use of it?"
"I'll use every tool at my disposal," Asch replies. "To take back as much as is taken. To create as much as is destroyed. To give as much as is received... And to save as much as has been lost. For that, I can rest when I'm dead."
It's a tall order, a heavy oath. You begin to understand why this shadow, this dead soul of a dead world, is not a face that Aodhan shows to just anyone. You wonder if it is a measure of trust that you have seen it.
You glance further up the bed, and find that while he may be too exhausted to speak, Aodhan is still watching you from half-closed eyes. Viera ears may not be as expressive as those of miqote, but you can imagine them turned towards you attentively all the same.
"I suppose," you say, "that one who regularly kills gods has no need to call upon them to fight on his behalf."
Asch snorts, a quick burst of laughter that takes you by surprise, and Aodhan smiles weakly. "Calling on a primal any time things get difficult is stupid," Asch says. "The power of Lorelei is and always has been a last resort. I'd thank you not to go telling everyone about it."
"Understood," you say. "And, as regards Alfonse - "
"He'll be fine," Asch interrupts. "It's a replica of his body from before. He won't leave a corpse when he dies and he can't donate for a blood transfusion to anyone who isn't a Seventh Fonist, which is all of three people on the entire planet as far as we know, but otherwise there shouldn't be any complications."
He adds, almost as an aside, "And I'm not explaining any of that to you, so deal with it however you want to deal with it. We of the Seventh have a right to control what remains of our world until it is well and truly gone."
You dislike the not knowing. Not sharing the details, after all, is how it is that Lahabrea was able to pull the wool over your eyes. "Swear that it will not harm him," you say, trying to land on 'order' instead of 'demand.'
Asch's eyes narrow on you, sharply, and you think you must, somehow, have misstepped, but it is too late to take the words back. "It'll do him less harm than your fucking idea of parenting," he spits back at you. "Get the hell out of our room, Gaius."
It would be beyond foolish at this point to make enemies, so, not without reservations, you get.
no subject
That gets a snort. "Most beast tribes aren't calling on gods who don't fight," Asch replies. "Gods of protection, gods of conquest - Lorelei isn't either of those. Insofar as it's a god at all, it's a god of memory and healing."
You've always been raised to see gods only as another weapon of war. "What other purpose would a god have?" you say. "Why put faith in something that cannot protect its people? Whether it be a god or a ruler, people always want for something stronger to defend them."
"Do they?" Asch asks. "Why don't you go ask the Resistance guards on the other side of that door that question?"
You're taken aback enough that you can't reply before he continues, "People will protect themselves so long as they can do so. They only turn to gods for the things they cannot do. You've seen for yourself how advanced Garlemald's weapons of war are in comparison to the rest of the world. If you're facing down the likes of the Weapons or even a magitek cannon armed with only bows and melee arms, wouldn't it seem an impossible task to defend your home and family? What recourse besides gods do those people have to protect their freedom?"
You don't answer. You think of the Diamond Weapon picking Valens up, crushing him in one great mechanical hand, armor and all, and you do not have an answer. In comparison to mortal men, that machine may as well have been a god, that you cannot deny.
Asch leaves you long enough to consider it, and then adds, flippantly, "Anyway, Lorelei's purpose was to drain the planet dry of aether and then collapse into itself in order to trigger a Rejoining, so it doesn't matter. The Ascians created it and the prophecy that sustained it, and then it was just a matter of waiting around for Auldrant to die."
That draws your attention. "A creation of the Ascians?" you say. "And still you make use of it?"
"I'll use every tool at my disposal," Asch replies. "To take back as much as is taken. To create as much as is destroyed. To give as much as is received... And to save as much as has been lost. For that, I can rest when I'm dead."
It's a tall order, a heavy oath. You begin to understand why this shadow, this dead soul of a dead world, is not a face that Aodhan shows to just anyone. You wonder if it is a measure of trust that you have seen it.
You glance further up the bed, and find that while he may be too exhausted to speak, Aodhan is still watching you from half-closed eyes. Viera ears may not be as expressive as those of miqote, but you can imagine them turned towards you attentively all the same.
"I suppose," you say, "that one who regularly kills gods has no need to call upon them to fight on his behalf."
Asch snorts, a quick burst of laughter that takes you by surprise, and Aodhan smiles weakly. "Calling on a primal any time things get difficult is stupid," Asch says. "The power of Lorelei is and always has been a last resort. I'd thank you not to go telling everyone about it."
"Understood," you say. "And, as regards Alfonse - "
"He'll be fine," Asch interrupts. "It's a replica of his body from before. He won't leave a corpse when he dies and he can't donate for a blood transfusion to anyone who isn't a Seventh Fonist, which is all of three people on the entire planet as far as we know, but otherwise there shouldn't be any complications."
He adds, almost as an aside, "And I'm not explaining any of that to you, so deal with it however you want to deal with it. We of the Seventh have a right to control what remains of our world until it is well and truly gone."
You dislike the not knowing. Not sharing the details, after all, is how it is that Lahabrea was able to pull the wool over your eyes. "Swear that it will not harm him," you say, trying to land on 'order' instead of 'demand.'
Asch's eyes narrow on you, sharply, and you think you must, somehow, have misstepped, but it is too late to take the words back. "It'll do him less harm than your fucking idea of parenting," he spits back at you. "Get the hell out of our room, Gaius."
It would be beyond foolish at this point to make enemies, so, not without reservations, you get.