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dragonfly
Solara remained silent and still for a few long seconds before she answered the question, and when she did, there seemed to be a strange new twinkle in her eyes, a depth that hadn't been there before. She was awake. Luneth was still a little miffed that she'd handled the transition much better than he had, but it would be beneath him to act on such petty jealousy, and besides, he figured he deserved it for selecting a vessel with such a frail constitution compared to Solara's athletic one.
Her next words revealed why she cried. A cold sorrow wrapped itself around Luneth's heart, darkening his expression and causing him to drop his gaze. "I know," he murmured. "There's nothing we can do at this point...nothing except maintain their planets in their place, in loving memory of them. This earth will still know this sky." He looked upwards at the night, and after a moment, he closed his eyes and turned his focus to the outermost reaches of the world, doing his best to block out the noise of the crowd around him. Once he was attuned to his otherworldly senses, he could feel the celestial bodies' movement. Of course, carrying the moon on its path came as effortlessly as his own heartbeat. But the abandoned planets...he'd need to take them under his wing as well, or at least the half he'd agreed to. Already Venus seemed a bit, well,
heavy in his mind, for lack of any other way of putting it. So Beltran had lost the last of his strength already...
He fought through the tight feeling in his throat. Mourning could wait. He had a job to do. He felt the other men's planets carefully, and one by one, it was as if their autonomy, their spark of life, gently winked out. The weight of Saturn settled into his mental grip next, and he bore it. Kron had perished. Then a little nudge, so light it was more of a tickle; Char had perished. The tug on Luneth's heartstrings grew stronger. He was tangentially aware of the noise of the mortal crowd around his body growing louder, something he didn't like at all. Apparently they'd begun the countdown. He growled low in his throat and tried harder to shut out the noise and return to his mental plane. They could keep their countdown for all he cared, keep their festivities to themselves. He couldn't celebrate the new year this year. Not like this.
Then a little more weight, accompanied by what he could've sworn was a feeling something like a stagger and an angry hiss. Apparently Aldnd wasn't going down easy. But at last, with a desperate sigh, he too dissipated, and Luneth's mind caught the course of Mars. And then...one last, slow, heavy weight. Deo. Deo, not Luneth's closest friend per se, but a good, loyal friend regardless. Luneth's last goodbye. Slowly, Deo gave his last breath and left his planet in Luneth's control.
Luneth took a few more moments to focus. He counted them. Yes, he had all of them, and they were on the tracks he'd taken the last several years to learn diligently. At the moment, he felt a bothersome sensation similar to the one a person gets when they pay too much attention to the rhythm of their own breathing, but with time, these movements would become just that: his breathing. He had the mental capacity for that. He tried to ignore the sudden chilly feeling in his stomach that he was essentially playing puppeteer for five corpses and pulled himself back into his earthly surroundings. Almost immediately he winced in regret and put his hands over his ears. The countdown had ended, leaving the human crowd cheering in the most irritating manner possible. Ugh. He didn't like the yelling. He'd never really liked crowds, but right now, the cacophony got under his skin in a way he didn't think it had ever done before. He'd just carried the weight of five of his best friends' deaths. Friends that had been with him for literal eons! And these little creatures went on celebrating a little blink they called a year, these buzzing mayflies who knew no better...!
No...don't do it. He curled forward a little, still clutching his head.
Don't lose control. You're better than that. No smiting. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to explode and command these ungrateful beings all to SILENCE, a moment of silence for their fallen planets and for his own damn peace of mind. But...no. No, he would control himself. His arms were shaking slightly and his throat was tight. After several strained seconds, he forcibly swallowed the urge to lash out and slowly stood up straight, letting out a measured sigh.
It wasn't until he looked back to Solara that he realized water had come to his eyes, burning tears of both anger and sorrow. "Do you carry the rest?" he asked her quietly. He didn't have anything else meaningful to say at the moment, but his thoughts went to his other companions next, the lovely ones in Solara's care. To think such power and beauty had died too...Diamante, Kore, Hermia. Arcene. P'seida...
His stern expression faltered, and finally his eyes began to leak, the hot tears making streaks on his cheeks. The passing of his beloved comrades was a burden he would carry to the last days of the earth, but P'seida's torment...that guilt was a deep and very personal wound.
