[Tales of Symphonia] Absolute

[runiclore]

Absolute
Author: Amber Michelle // myaru
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Characters: Genis
Prompt Set: 7rainbowprompts - violet set, 10 - reflection
Gauntlet theme: 10 - and you lift me up out of the two worlds
Rating: K
Words: 981
Warnings: AU. Craptasticness, possibly.

Notes: it's gen. Most of these will be.



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They wouldn't let Genis out of bed, even though he told them everything was fine: his chest didn't hurt, his eyesight had returned. A weird feeling curled in his stomach when he looked at his hands, turned them over on his knees, clenched his fingers, but-- but Raine always said he reacted badly to sleeping potions and teas when he was ill, and this was just his body letting him know it was disgusted at being put under for-- how long was it? Angels were useless when telling time and the one he asked evaded the question, tilted her head, and told him the year hadn't turned yet. The regeneration wasn't complete. What other marks in time mattered?

Well, his hair was longer. What was going on with that?

The little pixie girl at his bedside curled her wings at the tips, and her mouth worked while she contemplated her answer. A fringe of reddish brown hair curled over her forehead and in front of her ears, and her eyebrows were daubs of the same color swiped below the furrow on her forehead. Her monotone answer reminded him of Presea: these questions should be addressed to Lord Yggdrasill. That was her answer to everything; he wanted to know if he would be fed, and she directed him to Lord Yggdrasill. He asked where he was - Derris Kharlan, yes, but where in--? - and she assured him Lord Yggdrasill would explain it to him. Lord Yggdrasil had been very concerned over his health, she said, her fingers lingering over the garnet glow of her own cruxis crystal, and Genis echoed her gesture, felt the warm metal outline of a crystal, a crest, and the softer shape of his own body.

His hand trembled when he did that, so he stopped. Angel girl left after she twitched his blankets into place and opened the pale blue curtains. Without the glow of her white wings, the blue of his room was absolute.

Genis traced the folds of the navy blanket over his knees and wondered why he could feel the shapes of what he touched, the weight of what lay over his legs, yet not the weave of the sheets or the temperature of the air ghosting past the tips of his ears. He remembered Colette forgot how to feel too when they were on the journey of Regeneration, but she never said what it was like. She never said it was like going numb, a damp deadness of feeling spreading out from the chest and eating its way to the shoulders, the hips, not cold, not warm, like wool growing in a layer beneath the skin and muffling everything. He tossed the blanket aside, swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His gown twisted; his feet thumped onto the floor. The blue tiles felt like metal: cold, smooth.

Up. Up and out, that was what he wanted - if Mithos was too busy to see him, Genis would make it happen instead, somehow, once he could walk reliably again.

The window wasn't that far away. If he could walk that far, then he could reach the door.

He grabbed the bedpost and hauled himself onto his feet. It felt like he was balancing atop a ladder-- like he was walking on stilts, and would lose his balance and fall over if he didn't lean on the wall. In his peripheral vision his shadow elongated into a crazy blue shape, cast by the light on the wall.

Derris Kharlan is a comet, Mithos had said the first time he guided Genis to a window with his strong arm and warm body. Your blue sky hides us from your sight like these curtains, and Genis was still freezing back then, his crystal still stinging and cold where it fused to his chest, so he was going to ask you mean Cruxis is sitting on a big ball of ice? because it sure felt like it to him, and then he saw it in the glass, against the churning purple of the clouds--

He stumbled against the adjoining wall and took the brunt of the impact with his shoulder, which jarred his teeth but otherwise felt like nothing. The window was four long steps away. Genis pushed the curtain aside, leaning on the sill. Magenta and rose pink still lit the chaos of the sky, which he'd learned the inhabitants of the building called "day," as if they'd never seen real sunshine and thought a mere brightening of the clouds meant it was light outside. A statue spread its wings somewhere below his floor, the feathers fanning their sharp points past the glass. Buttresses arched against the wall. In the glass, against the darkness: a ghost.

A stranger.

Last time Genis touched the window it felt like ice. Today all he noticed was the smooth regularity of its surface as he traced the oval shape of a face too old to be his. Smears followed his fingertip. "Mithos," Genis whispered, meeting the blue shine of his own eyes. But Mithos didn't come.

Genis turned his back to the window, pushed his shoulders against the glass until he heard it grate in the frame. Wings flapped outside the door; air whispered as an angel glided past. He didn't need to open the door to hear it anymore. He didn't need to speak to the drones outside to know what they would say if he started asking questions again.

Lord Yggdrasill will answer your questions. Be patient.

Genis didn't want to be patient. He wanted to go home.

But Derris Kharlan is your home.

He turned to the window again, wondering if he could break it. His reflection bared its teeth, but he couldn't feel himself smile.


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I started hating this near the end. It was only supposed to be 750 words. And like, I just finished it. Finally, something I don't care about editing to death.

I know I was talking about Mithos/Genis, but the aging up thing is prep for a later scene that has nothing to do with Mithos-- if I get that far, in any case. What makes the pairing squicky has nothing to do with physical appearance, anyway.

Genis never learned Absolute in my game. I feel cheated.