eggbowl | In my blood...

[there's still doubt in his mind that this won't work, that he'll wake up soon after falling asleep, with the dregs of his nightmares following him in wakefulness. it's happened time and time again that this is all he knows, this is all he believes. so for someone to say that they can stop the nightmares, that they can offer him a restful sleep... it almost sounds too good to be true.

and yet, Dohalim wants to believe it. he wants to have that restful sleep. he's so tired... with how swiftly this illness had fallen on him, he's sure that if he continues on this path, he won't last for much longer.

Zhongli's words almost go unheard, as the hand in his hair slowly coaxes him to sleep. he can't stay up anymore, he just can't. eyelids are heavy as they flutter closed; with the touches, the warmth and the incense filling his room, sleep comes to him once more.

and he's back in the grotto, ankle deep in the silvery substance, eyes staring out at the lake. he's still, like a statue, even though he can feel the compelling pull of walking deeper into it]

[once his body slumps to the gentle slack of sleep, Zhongli exhales a soft sigh. his astral energy is so twisted up, even before he's found that connection to delve deeper into it. how much can he help with this? his abilities aren't what they were... but it should be enough.

it should be enough, especially with Dohalim's draw to him. as he steps through the veil of sleep into the realm of dreams, he can feel his body change, tail flicking behind him with each step. his hair is longer, too, a form he hasn't taken for so long... but it's that form that he needs to show the Renan anyway. the gentle proof that he is not of mankind, robed in white and adorned with lines of gold over swaths of black skin and scale.

regret, he thinks, lords over this place. it blankets the realm in a hazy whisper, one the deity dispels around him with every step.]

You seem lost in thought, Lord Dohalim.

[even his voice is different, resonant and rippling in the space; though there's also a good chance Dohalim won't really register it as strange at all. it's powerful and commanding, and as his hand sweeps across the scenery, it begins to shimmer and shift. rippling silver recedes, rises into the air in small motes that dissipate after a moment, until what lies beneath the Renan's feet is nothing more than fresh grass. silence, forcible and insistent, is unwound into the soft sound of a faraway bustling, not unlike Viscint itself on a particularly average day. everything is a slow process, from the way the veritable wellspring of tragedy and regret is turned and returned to the 'realm' to the way it all seems to become a warm, welcoming feeling.

dreams, after all, are simply intent, and the two were intertwined even before the admixture of herbs and spices meant to give him fuller control here. sadness may exist, and he certainly cannot pretend to cure it in the real world, but here... here it is so distant as to be unimaginable, suddenly. the pull of it toward depths unknown, toward some unspoken and ill-considered attempt at recompense.

more still... the deity's arm movement wasn't to simply break the pall of those feelings. it's a hand, delicate and gentle, extended as an invitation, with a picnic basket cradled in his other arm. this is not the Elde Menancia Dohalim knows in the real world, nor does it allow even the slightest interruption from his own fears, doubts, and regrets. at least here, he can offer the man a little more self-assurance.]

Shall we have a walk? I've prepared a small basket for lunch. I'm sure you've been overworking yourself again, after all.

[Zhongli's voice pulls a gentle shiver from Dohalim, affected more by its powerful baritone breaking through deafening silence than anything. it sounds like the earth itself, ancient but not at the same time. he dwells on it for a moment, before the silver liquid recedes from his feet, rises to the air and dissipates into nothingness. none of this is odd to him, but he does watch with a curious gaze, shoulders relaxing at the lack of pulling him deeper and heaviness in his heart; he lets out a soft breath]

Mm... There is always much to think about.

[he looks back down onto the ground, the lush grass thriving under his bare feet. it feels... nice. refreshing, but warm. he feels a connection to the earth itself, and its unwavering pulse; there's a particular vein of it that leads to Zhongli himself. as Dohalim brings his attention to him, eyes flick to the tail behind the man; he ponders on it for a moment, before smiling softly and taking his hand gently into his. Zhongli is a familiar presence, one that Dohalim can't deny]

But I suppose a break from thinking and working may be in order. A walk and lunch do sound rather appealing, right now.

[and he would like to explore this space, now that he has more access to it. now that he doesn't have a lake to cross]

It's rather beautiful in here, don't you think? The sun's rays illuminate the space just right, and everything looks so verdant.

Indeed, the needs of a country are ever evolving, after all.

[Zhongli inclines his head, just the same as always, and pulls Dohalim a little closer. It's presumptuous, assuming the Renan would have any interest in him, but... they're connected, after all. That fact is clear, a thrum of astral energy shared between them.]

Ah, good. Here I was afraid I would have to drag you with me ere the people start to worry. Why don't you lead? I'm quite content to see what unfolds at the end of the walk.

[His hand gently squeezes the Renan's then, exhaling a hum.]

Yes, you're quite correct. It always is, even if it grows a little unruly from time to time. We can only perceive so much of how the seeds we plant for the future grow, no?

[from here, he's content to leave it to Dohalim's mind to populate the space. Verdant greens and the tranquility of earth are easy, but what accomplishments have been suffocating under heavy emotions he wouldn't presume to know, let alone guide.]

You are correct. However...

[Dohalim tilts his head down, eyes trained on the ground for a moment a perfect red rose grows at his feet; without letting go of Zhongli's hand, he kneels down to pluck it, and stands as he examines it. there isn't a single blemish, and the hue is a deep red, the short stem thornless. he brings it up to smell it, humming softly]

We can always nurture it into what we can only hope is the right direction. And with how much Elde Menancia is thriving... I suppose I could say that there's at least something I'm doing right.

[reaching up, he tucks the rose stem behind Zhongli's ear, letting his fingers brush against soft onyx hair. Dohalim's words are that of a confidence he doesn't show in reality, but it's gentle and soft spoken and there.

he leads Zhongli deeper into the grotto, stretches of vibrant plant life seemingly growing from the ground around them as they pass. perhaps... perhaps this is his accomplishment, letting the earth thrive, letting the natural resources of the land live rather than be used for selfish purposes. he'd spent so much of his time and energy to bring Menancia to its current glory, for both Renans and Dahnans to enjoy.

in the distance seems to be a giant willow tree, its branches creating a veil yet letting just the right amount of light through. the grass around it seems kempt, the perfect place for a picnic]

Shall we settle down over there? I've felt hungry ever since you've mentioned lunch.

Edited 2022-11-15 16:39 (UTC)

[As Zhongli listens, he can get a small sense of what Dohalim might have been, setting aside all the things that have weighted him down. The deity now knows there are a plethora of other issues that bury all of the man's positive feelings, but unwrapping those here would be similarly impossible.

Besides, he's not equipped for that. Someone else, maybe, but...]

A thriving world is an indicator of many things, most of them positive, yes. But as you know, I'm of the belief that the land thrives must while you've faced adversity. [He inclines his head to let Dohalim place the rose; its red is a pop of color against the rest of him, and once it's set, the stem grows to gently sweep his hair back into a ponytail.] As you may be aware, in fact, I'm still getting used to things other than adversity and history.

[they're not things he'll know from history, but more... intrinsically, as their connection provides a sort of sharing of history. Every brief glimpse, up until there's so much quiet, is usually a memory of battle. Even more curiously, they seem related only to the stone and earth, with very little reference to plants at all.

Nonetheless, he does smile when the willow stands before them, nodding agreement.]

A wonderful choice, I think. Let us settle there. [and when they get there, he'll swiftly unfold the square blanket for them both, uncovering the top of the basket so that the young Renan can peek if he so chooses. It's a dream, of course, so what's inside is anyone's guess - but no doubt tasty nonetheless. The one thing that is there, separate from the food, is a peculiar earthen tea set. The tea inside is still piping hot, lovely and fragrant.] would you like to do the honors while I pour the tea? I'm only a little peckish, myself.

[a dream that Zhongli is lucid and aware enough that he knows it's as such, but for Dohalim, it's as if this is happening in reality. as he settles down on the blanket, he looks into the basket while Zhongli pulls out the tea set and tea]

I would love to.

[he pulls out a box of sliced baguette that he sets down on the blanket, as well as small containers of what seems to be like a pate of sorts and some caviar, as well as a small jar of grainy mustard. a small meal by Dohalim's standards, but judging by thelook on his face and the small smile on his lips, he looks more than pleased with the spread laid out in front of him]

Rappig pate and caviar. You shouldn't have.

[it doesn't take long for him to pick up the butter knife, and spreading some of the pate on a piece of bread, before offering it to Zhongli. no caviar is offered; he's aware of the man's aversion to seafood, for some reason.

the atmosphere around them is tranquil; Dohalim looks up through the branches, as beams of sunlight peek through the lush veil. it's perfectly warm, and the earthy scent around them only adds to the experience. he hadn't realised that there's this oasis hidden past the lake... he's not sure why he hadn't just traversed it, despite a very vague feeling in the back of his mind as he thinks about it, but he perishes the thought quickly, looking back down at Zhongli]

I'm glad you could join me for lunch.

Of course I should have. If I don't spoil you a little, who will?

[Zhongli exhales a chuckle as he pours them both tea, setting the cups on their saucers next to the plates. A small meal is a meal nonetheless, of course, and the day seems too young to suggest anything heavy and rich. Something like that, anyway. The deity takes the proffered bread delicately, shifting and wrapping his tail more comfortably over his waist such that the tuft at its end can trail off into the grass.]

It is my pleasure to join you, and it warms my heart that you're pleased with my presence.

[privately, he's intrigued by the man's dreamscape. Much of it was started by the deity's actions, but what comes into being is ultimately the result of Dohalim's deep subconscious. The things he can't grasp in daily life, things he buried under trauma and circumstance and expectation. The oasis is so soon past the lake of his inaction, his regret... it's a brilliant and warm space that wholly suggests the young man's true self is still there, still holding on.

Honestly, he doesn't know if he's qualified to help pull him out of his pain, but Zhongli doesn't want to lose Dohalim. The thought is far too painful.]

You did seem quite lost in thought, earlier; perhaps it would help to talk it through? Although I'm hardly one to complain at simply keeping company.

[Dohalim stops midway from lifting the baguette to his mouth when Zhongli asks the question, before he lowers it on the small plate he has in his other hand. what had he been thinking about...? before Zhongli had shown up, he was standing in the lake...

it slowly comes back to him, but not as a sweeping darkness that threatens to plunge this dreamscape into the hell it usually does. it comes back to him only as a thought, one Dohalim ponders on. he remembers the whispers trying to lead him into the lake, and the temptation to take that first step, before Zhongli...]

Solitude. A deafening silence broken by whispers of regret. The lake...

[his voice takes on the nuance he usually speaks with in his wakefulness, when they're alone together; soft, but heavy with emotion. with Zhongli's appearance, he'd momentarily forgotten what that lake represented. but now that he thinks back on it, he felt a coldness nip at him as he stared into that lake of silver.

Dohalim shivers slightly, before shaking his head]

I'm not sure how to explain it. My thoughts were both quiet and loud at the same time, yet incoherent. It was... Strange. Unnerving. Heavy.

A difficult thing to see past, I understand.

[Zhongli smiles quietly, his voice soft with understanding. after all, learning to live with one's choices and mistakes...]

It sounds like confusion and emotions warring with one another, to me. The things we cannot change often weigh the heaviest, I think. Having to hold them, to live for them, and continue to move on even when it's exhausting.

[setting his teacup down, Zhongli does allow himself a bite of food. he speaks of these things as simple facts, things he himself has been through. the misfortune of it is truly that he doesn't know how to actually help Dohalim through this. he can offer his thoughts and suggestions as the man makes statements, but other than that...]

Mm... Perhaps.

[Dohalim can say that he's a little confused. more of the fact that there are so many feelings that are currently muted; guilt and remorse, anger at himself, a despondency in regards to his own life. said feelings creep up on him, feeling them nip, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. it had been blissful when Zhongli showed up here, but now that they're talking of such things, all Dohalim can wish for is to go back to that bliss.

at least the lake hadn't come back.

Dohalim taps the side of his plate, thinking for a moment, before speaking again]

The question is, how does one keep moving when they're too tired to?

[Zhongli hums softly; asking the question is an improvement, at least. Shifting, he pulls the other a little closer, ensuring he can still reach everything at least.]

You rely on others, mostly. Grieve, lean on others, and don't put the entire burden on yourself.

[He's a hypocrite in that, but it's not the point. The deity knows how it should work, how everything used to work, before it all changed.]

And, if you can, create a space where that emotion has no place to sit; we cannot change our pasts, but the future... that's ours to define.

If you dislike how you were, then define how you would like to be. Your people will continue to give you their trust, even if you stumble.

Have I done enough to truly deserve their trust, I wonder...

[Dohalim's voice isn't of regret, but reflection instead. he leans against Zhongli as he ponders his words. relying on others and not letting his emotions reach him... it does sound easier said than done. he can't remember the last time he allowed himself to do such a thing, and even now, with the deity offering himself as someone for him to rely on, Dohalim isn't sure if he can allow himself to do it.

he can feel something try ti pick at that insecurity, but it's kept largely at bay by Zhongli's presence, or so Dohalim thinks. but it's still there, hanging like a shadow in the corner of his eyes; he chooses to ignore it for now, as long as it stays away. he lets out a soft sigh, moving the plate to the blanket so he can settle against the other]

The future... Not knowing what lies ahead is terrifying. How much will I stumble? How many times will I fall? Am I strong enough to pick myself back up? I'm... Uncertain about myself.

That is a question only others can answer, I believe.

[Zhongli's tail shifts absently as he speaks, its weight coming to rest on Dohalim's lap, wrapped comfortably around his waist.

It won't be easy, of course. Unmaking the false ideals that turned him to this path, to ignore what he might have seen with critical determination...]

... sometimes, it's all we can do to step forward despite the fear; failure and regret are often only steps behind us. Would that I could say it gets easier with time... but such has not been my experience. Stumbling and falling provide us with important information for when we climb back to our feet, though. To give up is easy, but what of those we would leave behind?

[Zhongli's gaze turns outward, his expression mostly unreadable, perhaps a little troubled. What, indeed...]

But neither does moving forward mean we should receive nothing good in the aftermath. We are allowed to change, to find what or who makes us happy, to strive for those moments of peace whilst deciding the ways we wish to change.

[exhaling a little laugh, he tilts his head.]

Would that I could claim to be as good with words as the other deities. I am an old man whose teeth were cut on battle, in truth.

[it explains a few things about him - the sheer lack of common sense he has in emotional circumstances, how quiet and sure he is even when he makes mistakes.]

[Dohalim falls silent, considering Zhongli's words, his gaze trailing down to the tail loosely wrapped around him. so strange, and yet, he doesn't shy from it. no, in fact, he gently places a hand on the appendage, fingers tracing along the scales that lay neatly along its shape. fingers even comb through the tufts of fur lining the top of Zhongli's tail, surprised at how soft it is, and how much softer the plume at the end is.

it's strange, and yet, Dohalim finds comfort in the warmth.

he huffs out a soft sigh, leaning his head to rest on the deity's shoulder]

I... hm... I suppose it is easier said than done. Forgive me for sounding so pessimistic, but... I cannot remember when the last time I allowed myself to be happy. Perhaps... before I'd become a lord, when...

[when he would sit in the square in Lenegis, with his friends as they performed the pieces Dohalim had written with their violins. simpler times, full of joy and excitement, when everything, including social statuses and norms would melt away as they cohesively played tune after tune for hours on end.

Dohalim shakes his head; it's a past he can't go back to]

Ah, it doesn't matter, now. I can't go back to it. But it was the only thing that made me happy.

[not allowing himself to play his violin makes him feel like a bird with its wings clipped but... he can't. it wouldn't be right to]

[It would be a lie to say he doesn't revel in the sensation. Zhongli has not had such gentle contact in so many years - not where his tail is concerned, at least - and the appendage always was so sensitive. It seems that hasn't changed, even here.

Still, he wants to focus on Dohalim, not himself. The redhead leans on him and his arm shifts, fingers tracing softly over his side.]

You owe me no apologies. I can hardly claim to know all you've been through, though it is... somewhat reminiscent of an old friend of mine.

[He doesn't elaborate, the words mild and easy. That circumstance does seem to come up ever more in relation to the Renan though...]

... if it made you happy, perhaps you should at least allow yourself to reminisce on it. [His gaze stays on Dohalim, watching every movement he makes.] It is not easy, nor does it come naturally, to celebrate even while you feel guilt. There isn't anything wrong with being unsure of your path forward.

That is why it is imperative to surround yourself with those you trust; if you can, find those you're willing to share your pain with, one day.

[He's a hypocrite on that point, but... well, he was the earthen God. Most days, he doesn't even admit to himself that he feels pain or regret.]

[not knowing about Zhongli's past, Dohalim can't comment on the hypocrisy of his words (though, he is curious about this friend the deity mentions). he instead latches onto the thought of allowing himself to truly trust in someone again, and to allow himself to reminisce of better days, of better memories. it weighs so heavily in his heart that he can feel the guilt bearing down on his shoulders, he can feel it like a nipping cold at his extremities. shadows dance along his peripheral; Dohalim doesn't dare look to see what they could be in case it conjures itself up to be something more than just a mere feeling.

Dohalim's fingers twist tufts of fir around them gently, admiring how soft it feels under his skin. almost silken, in fact... he does have to wonder where this came from. Zhongli had mentioned that he's a god so... maybe this is his true form? it feels real enough... he'll ask about it later.

he sighs softly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts]

I... Feel like I am undeserving to celebrate something that made me so happy when there are those who still mourn for it. For the loss of something so pure between the four of us. And they've made it abundantly clear that they do not seek reconciliation for everything that's been done.

[Fahria, especially. Dohalim sighs again]

It goes deeper than my own pain, I think. It's a guilt I've carried so deep within me for years that it almost seems like eternity.

Forgive me, for I fear I have not the words to provide an adequate and believable reasoning. My knowledge is all rather... firsthand, after all. I am not really any more perfect than you, or anyone else.

[Zhongli sighs, his expression turning complex for a moment before he resumes his soft movements, tracing circles against Dohalim's side now.]

It may not be my place to unravel all of this, either. To me, the fact that you wish to topple the society that created this dilemma in the first place speaks plain your determination. We are allowed to mourn that which we've lost, and to learn from that loss. Reconciliation is not necessary, and there is a good chance that those involved will never forgive you - but that doesn't mean you've done something unforgivable. For all the time I've spoken with you, observed you, I have never seen a man who would simply forsake friendship without adequate reason.

[that tail shifts then, lifting up to fluff a little of its fur in his face, hoping perhaps to insert a tiny moment of playfulness.]

The guilt doesn't fade quickly or easily, but ultimately, neither does the blame fall upon one set of shoulders. In my long history, the number of times where that has been a truth has been so few as to be ill worth mentioning. Celebrating the times that were happy is a good way to remember them, is it not? Even without anyone to share in a memory, I suspect those who are truly lost would rather see it that way. Of course, I cannot speak for Renans, given my... lack of experience with them overall.

I'd forsaken friendship in an act of self preservation.

[he'd mentioned it before, but Dohalim had never really gone into detail of what it meant. he could have allowed himself to die at the hands of his closest friend, he could have allowed Tarnigen to claim victory (even if he tried to cheat by drawing on astral energy in hand to hand combat, but Dohalim is willing to overlook that), but... his friend wanted it. he wanted this position more. not only for himself, but for Fahria as well. Dohalim didn't want any of this, but familial obligations and expectations...

Zhongli is right in Dohalim's want to topple a governing system that expects its people to strike down adversaries and friends alike so brutally to continue its conquest over another planet. he wants to topple a system that turns friends into adversaries, with expected bloodshed as payment for crowned victory. it's barbaric--

the deity's tail in his face pulls Dohalim from that train of thought, scrunching his nose slightly at the indignation of it before gently pushing the tail back down onto his lap. rude...]

I understand what you are saying. I just... In the end, I wonder if Tarnigen would have seen it that way. There was no warmth of familiar friendship when we crossed weapons with each other. Would he want me to celebrate his life and the memories we shared when I was the one who struck him down? Would it be fair to his widowed fiancée, and our other closest friend if I did so? I don't think it is. I don't think I could allow such a thing.

[it's so abundantly clear that Dohalim holds the thoughts and opinions of his friends so close to his heart that it's become so detrimental to his mental health, but could he really be blamed? he'd been alone in his childhood that when he'd found a group of friends who liked him for his talent rather than his social status, he'd latched onto it. so, for it to be ripped away from his grasp, because of his own actions, it's no wonder why all of it is so devastating, and that, even years after, it still affects him so]

[as he listens, it all starts to take shape in slow, meandering ways. Zhongli... can understand in as many ways as he cannot, in the end. his life has been so long, and he's seen so much loss that of course he has plenty of anecdotes, but...]

Mm. [his eyes close as he considers, tail curling back neatly in the young man's lap. to hear of Tarnigen, and of his reactions in that clashing...] Would you not wish for him to celebrate his life were the circumstances reversed? You both entered in to that space with the understanding of the rules of your engagement. I cannot speak of the procedures beyond my anecdotal knowledge, but... I would argue that you are not to blame for what happened.

[shifting again, Zhongli reaches up to cradle Dohalim's face. it's gentle and soft, easily pushed away if the redhead becomes too uncomfortable.]

You were placed into an impossible situation. You couldn't just back down, and - much like your friend, like anyone faced with the impending possibility of death... you fought to your fullest. Life is not fair, and it hesitates for no one, but I don't believe the reaction would be so different had Tarnigen won and realised the cost of that victory.

I don't know how much your other friends knew about the circumstances, either - for obvious reason. I won't ask you to recount it, but I will ask the question: if they were fully aware of what was required, and they still wished you to die over your friend, did they truly feel friendship? Such a thing is not transactional, and it cannot be defined by who "deserves" what.

And if they would have mourned you as they mourned him... even if they can't reconcile it now, and perhaps never will, is it truly you they're angry at? Or the circumstances they feel powerless to change?

Fahria certainly made it apparent that she's angry at me.

[the words of hatred and unforgiveness spat at him still rings in his ears, clear as if she'd just thrown them at him mere moments before. it hurt. it hurt to hear them. it hurt to see the disappointed gaze in Avakhir's eyes behind his glasses, and the silence that accompanied it. their backs turning away from him before he'd descended down to Dahna, without so much as another word.

the both of them knew that he and Tarnigen had to be pitted against each other like this. they also knew what it all meant. Dohalim had promised them that, if it came down to it, he would stop his and Tarnigen's duel if it seemed like the man couldn't continue. that he would stop it before he ultimately killed him. perhaps the three of them, or even the four of them, knew that Dohalim was the stronger one, that it was expected that he would come out as victor, that there would be death involved. but if Dohalim could incapacitate Tarnigen enough for their duel to be called...

but he'd been so persistent. of course he had to be. he was driven by his own ambition...]

I am undeserving of it. Of this. My title, and all that comes with it. I should have been the one stricken down instead. I hold no value to my life. I made a promise, and I broke it. And, like the coward that I am, I would rather end my own life rather than face it.

[he's still under the impression that he's alone in that aspect, that he has to deal with this guilt alone. in his dream, at least he's more willing to admit it, to give context to it, but the thought, so rooted in his psyche, comes out even in an environment made to nurture and give pause to the corruption and darkness]

[Zhongli inhales slowly, continuing the words. there's too much that's missing from the narrative. Dohalim isn't ready to face it, and there is... really nothing he can do about that. he's alive, and he's living, and yet all of this holds him rooted to the spot.]

Admittedly... I am no good at working out the understanding behind these sorts of thoughts and feelings. But in my eyes, I don't think it's so simple. If you broke your promise, then it was done for a reason. I don't know what that promise was, of course.

You aren't alone in this feeling. The sense of betrayal, of wondering if there was something, anything you could have done to change what was. I...

[he pauses then, exhaling a sigh and shifting to nuzzle his face into Dohalim's neck just a little. when did he start feeling the want for such comforts?]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sour this experience with my want for understanding. But you can rest assured that I'll never believe you're unworthy of what you have. I'll never give up on you, so long as I have the chance to help you carry the weight of your worries.

I promised I would put an end to the duel if it neared fatality. That I would incapacitate Tarnigen enough that they would call it. He... He was skilled in combat, but he never was any match for me.

[it's not like Dohalim is trying to toot his own horn; it's just a matter of fact. along with academics, he'd been trained at a young age on how to fight, to learn the intricacies of battle. all part of the expectations imposed on him, to continue his family's legacy, to bring home the sovereignty and continue his family's legacy. there had been many lords that had come from House il Qaras, but it was a path he didn't want to follow. not... that he had a choice in the matter.

Dohalim huffs out a soft breath, as he pulls himself away from Zhongli a little. his head turns, eyes trailing along the plant life around them]

A promise is a form of contract, is it not? If you are as you say you are, how could something like that be easily forgiven?

[what reason could there be to break it other than a selfish need to keep himself alive? had... had he wanted to believe that, if he were to explain the situation to Fahria and Avakhir, that they would understand? that Tarnigen was too driven by his own ambition? but he couldn't tell them that he cheated, that his ambition drove him to such desperation...

maybe he did deserve to lose them for lying to them]

What I've done cannot be forgiven. I've run from it, and from the people who have the right to be angry with me. I didn't want to face it, I didn't want to see the blood on my hands.

[Dohalim looks back at Zhongli, a small, tired frown on his face]

My worries... My anxieties... They hold the same weight as both Dahna and Rena, it seems. I'm... Tired. I'm tired of carrying it.

A promise is indeed a firm of contract, and the consequences for breaking one are... varied. Without knowing the full breadth of the circumstances, I cannot speak to this one.

[Dohalim turns away from him, and Zhongli simply watches for a moment. Indeed, the happenings on that planet were far beyond him, purely separate from the logic he himself operated on. And still...]

... almost nothing worth doing is easy. Mistakes are a sign of sentience, but... mm.

[Dohalim looks to him again, and Zhongli moves to pull him in. It isn't a request, as he pulls the younger man to his chest, stroking fingers through his hair.]

... let me carry it, then. [It's such a... simple, elegant solution, really.] That is my role, now; I carry the history of those past, and in my contracts, I will remember every step taken. Who you were, who you are, and who you become... I wish to see them all. I cannot find fault in you, as I simply don't believe your actions were unreasonable. I only want to see what awaits you at the long end of the road.

If you will share with me your story in full... at least allow me to carry the gentle core of your self... I will remember. I will hold all that you're afraid to show, and all that your decisions become. If it suits you, we can form another contract. I will become your penance; the place where you entomb your fears and regrets. Where you may seek both pain and solace.

You needn't decide how, in any case. My initial contract speaks to much of this already. If at any time you become irredeemable, I will carry out my word, and remember all that I have learned about you in turn.

[never you mind that there's a small part of him that fears he's getting too old, that even his immaculate memory may begin to give way to the steady, slow drip of time. Those worries don't matter here in the dream, at the very least.]

[there's a worry there, that if Dohalim were to share any of those fears and anxieties, if he were to lay them out for Zhongli to carry... what would become of the god if it all becomes too much? he's so willing to take it all on, almost determined to do so, but it's not his place to do so, right? or... had he been there this whole time because he himself was carrying so much, and that the deity had seen it, and entered into his court to keep an eye on him?

maybe he's reading too much into it.

Dohalim huffs out a soft sigh, his head pressing into Zhongli's chest gently as he considers his options. he's silent for a moment, but no thoughts come to mind, only questions]

You say you want to remember me... But what if I don't want to be remembered? What if I want to fade into obscurity, to be forgotten? What if I don't want what I've done to be remembered by anyone?

[he sighs again, eyes slipping closed]

But... What do you mean? How would a contract like that be formed? What would it entail?

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