His shoulders rise then fall with a silent exhale as his expression settles. Perhaps, he shouldn't have hoped for a different response. Perhaps this is how it should be: so long as hate for Somnus fuels him, the Draconian's prophecy will be fulfilled. As one who is also beholden to the Bladekeeper, even suggesting respite can be considered blasphemy, after all.
Somnus should have known better. This is to be it, that even beyond the yoke of their Star, Ardyn's cursed fate follows him here. Stagnation is all they are due, and hope for better is a curse.
What comfort either may have is an end, and none of it, Ardyn's fault. So he answers, his tone reserved and weary.
And that seems to be enough to go through Ardyn's defenses. He clenches his fists until his knuckles are white.
"You are sorry?"
The fire of fury is back in his eyes and his breath comes shorter as Ardyn tries to keep some measure of control. With the Scourge dormant, it is perhaps just a little bit easier than it would be back home.
"Where was that sorrow two thousand years ago? Where was that sorrow when you conspired with that woman? Where was that sorrow when you took everything from me?! Where was it when you wrote me out of history?! Imprisoned me, tortured me, let your spawn do the same!"
Though his words start quiet, Ardyn's voice quickly rises until he's shouting, the anger drowning him. He rises to his feet, grabbing his sword off the table, immediately pointing it at Somnus. It's perhaps the only mercy that he does not instantly go for a swing.
"You," he spits, "are not sorry. You never have been. You never will be. Traitor. Murderer."
Hoping for change but curbing expectation seems to be the best way to protect from disappointment. Once Ardyn points his blade at Somnus, he stands, using his kinetic magic to allow his blade to hover beside him, poised. While he can apologize, he will not make a martyr out of himself.
The labels are deserved, and he makes no effort to counter them. Somnus looks along the path of the blade to meet Ardyn's eyes.
He is. He is very tired. A part of him does only wish for things to finally end. But if his brother thinks that the exhaustion will make him give up, concede his defeat... No. Never. He will be free. He will be.
Again there is a strangeness to Ardyn's expression, as though he has to reprogram his features... and then he smirks again, the previous rage seemingly banked.
"No. You should have tried the Scourge for yourself, Somnus. Two thousand years of it. You would find it is quite... invigorating."
... After all, what else was left for Ardyn? What else was he supposed to hold on to to keep even some shreds of sanity, enough to play along with Bahamut's plan instead of letting himself be completely devoured by fury and despair, becoming a mindless lord of daemons? In its way the Scourge is both his blessing and his curse, a poison that keeps him alive.
In the final years of the Endless Night, Somnus had been blighted by the Scourge and made to wait to fight the Chosen King. In the pit of that darkness, there was some shreds of his soul remaining, some knowledge of who he was, of what his principles were. But, again: the amount of time he had spent cursed is nothing compared to the millennia Ardyn had endured-- and still endures.
Still, he wonders, just how much does the Scourge control him, how much remains of his brother? In choosing vengeance, he chooses despair sustained by immortality and harms himself further. That is part of the curse. Perhaps he has not recalled that he's already won, by the Bladekeeper's prophecy, at that. Ardyn's revenge upon Lucis, the royal line, and the world, is fulfilled.
Somnus' head tilts, and he eyes the tip of the blade pointed at him, frowning.
"The gods chose you to house the Scourge... but you did not deserve to be their chosen."
This time there's genuine shock on Ardyn's features. It's the first time he's ever heard his brother admit any fault to the gods' plans. Before, he'd talked of the necessity of it, offered his own apologies - selfish, in Ardyn's eyes, pleas for absolution as though Ardyn owed it to him. The closest he's ever heard Somnus come to admitting Ardyn did not deserve this fate was saying that his brother needs to be freed, or granted peace. But he'd never acknowledged the slight against him as such.
Befuddled and still angry, Ardyn does not have an answer to that, only managing to grip his sword tighter, breath hissing between his teeth as his eyes search Somnus's face for confirmation that this is some kind of trick, a lie, a threat, gloating - anything.
Somnus holds against Ardyn's glare, remaining ready to counter a strike. Even when it doesn't come, the tension remains as taught as a industrial spool of steel. Then, slowly, it eases, as does Somnus' own magical lift on his sword. As if cranked slowly down from a pully, the Blade of the Mystic rests lower-- and less ready to defend-- than moments ago.
For all of his formative years, he had been the envious brother, watching as the other had flawlessly succeeded in capturing the people's attention because he was blessed, because he wielded miracles, because he was able to lift a deadly curse. There was no doubt in anyone's eyes, even the younger brother's, that the elder was touched by the gods. Little did they know it came with a price. The revelation had been thus: that Ardyn's power was no cure, but his brother taking all the Scourge onto himself, taxing and corrupting.
Envy had blinded Somnus in his youth. But... no more.
Had the gods only asked Ardyn to be the vessel for this corrupting Scourge, undoubtedly he would have obliged and sat content for millennia until it was time for the True King to ascend. Ardyn was good in that manner, and would have done all for the world, including sacrificing himself. They are alike in this way; Somnus does all and anything for the world as well, including sanctioning the sacrifice of himself and his entire family for it; however, that does not make him good. That much is obvious, and the gap between them, or rather, him and the sheer goodness of who Ardyn used to be, remains staggering to this day. He could never compare; and it is this that makes him know for certain that Ardyn did not deserve the fate he had been dealt.
"You were good, brother. You did not deserve it... your suffering. From the Star's blight, or of my own hand," he repeats. Although his voice is lower, his gaze remains raised and certain, his tone earnest. "Would that you will not suffer upon this isle, either."
But if the Scourge, even dormant, has truly taken him over, then it will be a long, uphill, and arduous battle for peace.
The words obviously have an effect on Ardyn. His hand trembles further as he tries to grip the sword more, losing his cool, breath coming faster and faster until--
"Liar!!"
His sword bites into the table between them, slashing right through it - even with the magic taken away, his and Somnus's blades both are to be reckoned with. But Ardyn himself is shaking with fury - for reasons even he does not fully understand. All that he knows is that this, this compassion from Somnus, these words are something he can't tolerate. They can't be true. They can't. If they were, if they had ever been...
"For two thousand years you've done nothing! For two thousand years you've left me to my fate! Who was it that freed me from my containment, 'brother'? Was it you? Was it one of your spawn? Or were they sent to imprison the Adagium again?" He snarls, eyes fixed on Somnus in pure fury. "Or was it the Empire, seeking a new weapon to use? Answer me!"
There is no denying that the one responsible for his own brother's imprisonment had been Somnus. After his death, while some records were kept of the lost Lucis Caelum, not one sought to release the one called 'Adagium'. No one could decipher the mechanisms of the Scourge, only that its main source was imprisoned and kept from the rest of the world. No one in Lucis sought to change that ignorance, whether out of fear or some divine intervention of pursuing it.
Even though as all of those years passed, it became increasingly obvious that the imprisoned man still suffered in shadows, all while Lucis thrived.
"For two thousand years.... I had done nothing." He concedes to it, for there is nothing else with which to defend. Each word feels like gravel tossing in his throat. What excuse is being within the purgatory of the Ring, underneath the overwhelming God of War and the oppressive power of the Crystal? Somnus is powerless, weak, and for that weakness, he did nothing. Weakness is not an defense Ardyn would accept.
He lifts his head, watching Ardyn solemnly.
"To do nothing still, all while I see you continue to suffer... This, I will not accept."
It is too defeatist when there is opportunity to do better beyond the yoke of the Bladekeeper. More than all, Somnus wants better for his brother in this realm.
Once again the words, the sentiment is so... unthinkable that Ardyn feels certain that he simply misheard something. That this is not real, just another illusion of Bahamut's, much the same as when the Bladekeeper summoned Aera's image to torture him. There would be no way Somnus, the real Somnus, would ever try to show him any compassion.
Yes, that is it, a part of his mind whispers, the part that strives to repair his mental defenses as quick as possible. That's it; a trick, a trap. He hates you. He's always hated you. Don't believe him. Don't believe anyone.
That's what his life had become ever since he was freed by the Empire. Even in his prison Ardyn hadn't yet come to loathe all; he was merely deathly tired, tired of the world, of his own existence. But with Besithia's "help" and the Infernian's revelation bestowed onto him the last shreds of hope had left Ardyn. There was no one left in the world whom he cared for and who cared for him in turn, no one to trust, no one to walk with him but the Scourge...
From a gift it had gone on to become a curse, and from a curse to become a comfort of sorts. The only thing that was still under his command, the only piece of control in his existence. Suddenly he feels its absence all too keenly; his mind yearns for the familiar mire of the Scourge, for the surety of knowing that he need only lift a hand to render any person, any creature before him into a pawn of his own. And in some strange, twisted way he'd come to care for the daemons he created, too; though merely tools, they were still his, his creations, in a sense his children...
Confusion, bitter vulnerability, some animal panic and anger all fuse into one big snake's nest of emotion. Ardyn half-shrinks back, hunching his shoulders, this time thrusting his blade into the floor as some kind of outlet.
"I am not suffering," he snarls, still shaking. "I don't need your pity!"
Very few acknowledge that the one who trespasses may have their own daemons with which to contend, and in this case, it is literal. Ardyn is not blameless, but that doesn't mean he is not hurting. If the Scourge still allows its vessel to feel agony and despair, then it is not a power overwhelming so much so that the victim's self is completely blotted out. As Somnus sees it, Ardyn is suffering despite his denial, as obvious as dream made reality. He's seen that suffering in how Ardyn reacted to encountering the vision of Aera on the isle. He's seen it in how the chains burst from the ground and injured him, trapping him and bleeding him alive. He's seen it in how every time they meet, Ardyn greets him with nothing but contempt. Fury and despair fuel him stronger than the Ifernian's wrath. Away from the Draconian, it does not have to be this way.
"...Enough, brother," he replies, solemn. "Has it not been enough for you, that you do not see it?"
Somnus did nothing for so long, and now that he wants to, it is almost too little, too late, with each encounter taken in bad faith. He never acts out of pity.
But, for now, perhaps this is all they may do: if Ardyn does not wish for what he interprets as pity, perhaps now is not the time. Perhaps Ardyn is not ready-- and he needn't ever be, for all of what Somnus has committed against him. Perhaps the lingering effects of the Scourge still have too much hold over him.
In truth, Ardyn fully knows it. He knows that he is in pain and despair - how could it be otherwise, after all that he's endured? But as his life became nothing but suffering, the only way for him to survive was to embrace it, and then ignore it. As the eye adjusts to darkness, so did he adjust to the darkness within him and the fate without. And the price of it was to give up hope that things could ever be otherwise; after all, there were none that would take his side or even care about him. All there was was Bahamut's orders and punishment for stepping out of line. Without his hatred, his pain, his anger Ardyn would have long since fully lost himself to the Scourge, and even in this place he holds onto those feelings as his only way to stay alive.
Somnus's words elicit another wave of fury within him - but Ardyn has had a little time to think now, and the raw, almost animal anger becomes his usual steely disdain. Again the sudden change is reflected on his face: snarling one moment, smirking humorlessly the next. He lowers his sword, tipping his head to give Somnus a condescending look.
"And what if it has not been enough for me, hmm? Will you seek to rectify that?"
Across the low table, he watches Ardyn's expression as it shifts to contain his fury. Somnus watches this, then replies in a measured voice, stating simply:
"You have won."
The endless night, the corruption of three kings of yore through the scourge, and the end of Lucis has all been realized by Ardyn's own hands. Even the end of the royal line, Somnus' own, is just within his reach, and there is nothing to stop this. Ardyn's vengeance is sanctified by the gods themselves. But of course even that would not be enough. Unfortunately, the gods' promise to an end of their immortality cannot be obtained while in Avalon. They are bound to be bleed eternally.
"If your victory is not enough... then the end you seek is not here. For neither of us."
Ardyn narrows his eyes. Victory? He briefly wonders if that is truly what Somnus sees Ardyn's "achievements" as. And ultimately, they both know...
"But I have not won yet, brother. You and I both know that I never will as long as your precious master still exists. Or did you think me so narrow-minded that it is only you and your spawn that I want to see wiped off the face of Eos?"
Some part of his mind tells Ardyn that maybe he should hold his tongue - if (when?) they both return, Somnus knowing of Ardyn's aspirations to destroy Bahamut himself could throw a wrench into the plans. But he can't quite resist the temptation to declare his independence of the "divine" plan, even if in the end it might deprive Ardyn of his own rest.
His head raises, some, to look at Ardyn as the other man relishes in self-sabotage and spite. It's surprising-- for this seems like not the same Ardyn who had ceased his endeavors and merely waited upon the throne for the Chosen King-- but not for the grudge he holds.
Rebelling against the Draconian has always been met with power overwhelming, near the oppression of all of the memories of all of the history of the Star being flooded into the Chosen. Immortal or not, such power was never meant to impress upon human minds and bodies. Somnus won't even entertain the threat. Thus, he focuses on their present.
"We remain in this realm, apart from the Draconian's yoke. You are free, here."
Indeed, back home Ardyn had eventually resigned himself to his fate, exhausted to the core, his only crumbs of freedom being only the level of terror he could unleash upon Lucis. But his hatred for Bahamut had never disappeared, and this land, this strange land with so many other travelers, able to bridge the gap between worlds... If Ardyn could get his hands on that power, he could finally have his true revenge. Destroy Bahamut, the rest of the gods, and perhaps Eos itself, free himself of that cage. He has not thought what he would do afterwards, of course, but does it matter?
"'Yoke'? My, Somnus, it almost sounds as though you do not enjoy serving your precious gods! Or is this yet another attempt to win my forgiveness, hmm?" Ardyn gives another one of his mocking grins, before a colder, arrogant fire flickers in his eyes. He withdraws his sword, hanging it on his belt. "Tell me, Somnus... What do you know of freedom? You've been quite content to be a slave to the gods. You and that woman both. You, in particular, fed your entire family to Bahamut's ambitions! And they never even thought to question the divine will, did they? A lineage of cowards."
Ardyn barks out a laugh, stepping back with a shrug and clearly intending to head out of the room. But he keeps his eyes on Somnus still, and gives one of his elaborate bows as a "goodbye".
"Well, I am different from you. Enjoy your farce of a 'freedom', Somnus. I have a little more ambition than that."
Somnus watches Ardyn as his expression twists from mocking to anger, perhaps even disgust for all that the other has done or did not do. Yet in the same breath, he acknowledges that Somnus hadn't been free, either. While surprising, Somnus is quick to correct his assumption that Ardyn thinks any deeper of it. Perhaps to the other, the lack of freedom only makes him complicit, something to blame him further for.
He will not dispute to correct any assumption, for Ardyn is free to believe what he believes, and now is not the time.
"Goodbye, brother."
Somnus makes no motion to stop him as he leaves, saying nothing more. It is clear that Ardyn speaks from a place of pain, loathing, and frustration, and centuries of wrath consuming him. He is free to feel those things, and he needn't tolerate Somnus' presence any longer.
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no subject
Somnus should have known better. This is to be it, that even beyond the yoke of their Star, Ardyn's cursed fate follows him here. Stagnation is all they are due, and hope for better is a curse.
What comfort either may have is an end, and none of it, Ardyn's fault. So he answers, his tone reserved and weary.
"I am sorry, brother."
no subject
"You are sorry?"
The fire of fury is back in his eyes and his breath comes shorter as Ardyn tries to keep some measure of control. With the Scourge dormant, it is perhaps just a little bit easier than it would be back home.
"Where was that sorrow two thousand years ago? Where was that sorrow when you conspired with that woman? Where was that sorrow when you took everything from me?! Where was it when you wrote me out of history?! Imprisoned me, tortured me, let your spawn do the same!"
Though his words start quiet, Ardyn's voice quickly rises until he's shouting, the anger drowning him. He rises to his feet, grabbing his sword off the table, immediately pointing it at Somnus. It's perhaps the only mercy that he does not instantly go for a swing.
"You," he spits, "are not sorry. You never have been. You never will be. Traitor. Murderer."
no subject
The labels are deserved, and he makes no effort to counter them. Somnus looks along the path of the blade to meet Ardyn's eyes.
"Are you not tired?"
no subject
Again there is a strangeness to Ardyn's expression, as though he has to reprogram his features... and then he smirks again, the previous rage seemingly banked.
"No. You should have tried the Scourge for yourself, Somnus. Two thousand years of it. You would find it is quite... invigorating."
... After all, what else was left for Ardyn? What else was he supposed to hold on to to keep even some shreds of sanity, enough to play along with Bahamut's plan instead of letting himself be completely devoured by fury and despair, becoming a mindless lord of daemons? In its way the Scourge is both his blessing and his curse, a poison that keeps him alive.
no subject
Still, he wonders, just how much does the Scourge control him, how much remains of his brother? In choosing vengeance, he chooses despair sustained by immortality and harms himself further. That is part of the curse. Perhaps he has not recalled that he's already won, by the Bladekeeper's prophecy, at that. Ardyn's revenge upon Lucis, the royal line, and the world, is fulfilled.
Somnus' head tilts, and he eyes the tip of the blade pointed at him, frowning.
"The gods chose you to house the Scourge... but you did not deserve to be their chosen."
no subject
Befuddled and still angry, Ardyn does not have an answer to that, only managing to grip his sword tighter, breath hissing between his teeth as his eyes search Somnus's face for confirmation that this is some kind of trick, a lie, a threat, gloating - anything.
no subject
For all of his formative years, he had been the envious brother, watching as the other had flawlessly succeeded in capturing the people's attention because he was blessed, because he wielded miracles, because he was able to lift a deadly curse. There was no doubt in anyone's eyes, even the younger brother's, that the elder was touched by the gods. Little did they know it came with a price. The revelation had been thus: that Ardyn's power was no cure, but his brother taking all the Scourge onto himself, taxing and corrupting.
Envy had blinded Somnus in his youth. But... no more.
Had the gods only asked Ardyn to be the vessel for this corrupting Scourge, undoubtedly he would have obliged and sat content for millennia until it was time for the True King to ascend. Ardyn was good in that manner, and would have done all for the world, including sacrificing himself. They are alike in this way; Somnus does all and anything for the world as well, including sanctioning the sacrifice of himself and his entire family for it; however, that does not make him good. That much is obvious, and the gap between them, or rather, him and the sheer goodness of who Ardyn used to be, remains staggering to this day. He could never compare; and it is this that makes him know for certain that Ardyn did not deserve the fate he had been dealt.
"You were good, brother. You did not deserve it... your suffering. From the Star's blight, or of my own hand," he repeats. Although his voice is lower, his gaze remains raised and certain, his tone earnest. "Would that you will not suffer upon this isle, either."
But if the Scourge, even dormant, has truly taken him over, then it will be a long, uphill, and arduous battle for peace.
no subject
"Liar!!"
His sword bites into the table between them, slashing right through it - even with the magic taken away, his and Somnus's blades both are to be reckoned with. But Ardyn himself is shaking with fury - for reasons even he does not fully understand. All that he knows is that this, this compassion from Somnus, these words are something he can't tolerate. They can't be true. They can't. If they were, if they had ever been...
"For two thousand years you've done nothing! For two thousand years you've left me to my fate! Who was it that freed me from my containment, 'brother'? Was it you? Was it one of your spawn? Or were they sent to imprison the Adagium again?" He snarls, eyes fixed on Somnus in pure fury. "Or was it the Empire, seeking a new weapon to use? Answer me!"
no subject
Even though as all of those years passed, it became increasingly obvious that the imprisoned man still suffered in shadows, all while Lucis thrived.
"For two thousand years.... I had done nothing." He concedes to it, for there is nothing else with which to defend. Each word feels like gravel tossing in his throat. What excuse is being within the purgatory of the Ring, underneath the overwhelming God of War and the oppressive power of the Crystal? Somnus is powerless, weak, and for that weakness, he did nothing. Weakness is not an defense Ardyn would accept.
He lifts his head, watching Ardyn solemnly.
"To do nothing still, all while I see you continue to suffer... This, I will not accept."
It is too defeatist when there is opportunity to do better beyond the yoke of the Bladekeeper. More than all, Somnus wants better for his brother in this realm.
no subject
Yes, that is it, a part of his mind whispers, the part that strives to repair his mental defenses as quick as possible. That's it; a trick, a trap. He hates you. He's always hated you. Don't believe him. Don't believe anyone.
That's what his life had become ever since he was freed by the Empire. Even in his prison Ardyn hadn't yet come to loathe all; he was merely deathly tired, tired of the world, of his own existence. But with Besithia's "help" and the Infernian's revelation bestowed onto him the last shreds of hope had left Ardyn. There was no one left in the world whom he cared for and who cared for him in turn, no one to trust, no one to walk with him but the Scourge...
From a gift it had gone on to become a curse, and from a curse to become a comfort of sorts. The only thing that was still under his command, the only piece of control in his existence. Suddenly he feels its absence all too keenly; his mind yearns for the familiar mire of the Scourge, for the surety of knowing that he need only lift a hand to render any person, any creature before him into a pawn of his own. And in some strange, twisted way he'd come to care for the daemons he created, too; though merely tools, they were still his, his creations, in a sense his children...
Confusion, bitter vulnerability, some animal panic and anger all fuse into one big snake's nest of emotion. Ardyn half-shrinks back, hunching his shoulders, this time thrusting his blade into the floor as some kind of outlet.
"I am not suffering," he snarls, still shaking. "I don't need your pity!"
no subject
"...Enough, brother," he replies, solemn. "Has it not been enough for you, that you do not see it?"
Somnus did nothing for so long, and now that he wants to, it is almost too little, too late, with each encounter taken in bad faith. He never acts out of pity.
But, for now, perhaps this is all they may do: if Ardyn does not wish for what he interprets as pity, perhaps now is not the time. Perhaps Ardyn is not ready-- and he needn't ever be, for all of what Somnus has committed against him. Perhaps the lingering effects of the Scourge still have too much hold over him.
no subject
Somnus's words elicit another wave of fury within him - but Ardyn has had a little time to think now, and the raw, almost animal anger becomes his usual steely disdain. Again the sudden change is reflected on his face: snarling one moment, smirking humorlessly the next. He lowers his sword, tipping his head to give Somnus a condescending look.
"And what if it has not been enough for me, hmm? Will you seek to rectify that?"
no subject
"You have won."
The endless night, the corruption of three kings of yore through the scourge, and the end of Lucis has all been realized by Ardyn's own hands. Even the end of the royal line, Somnus' own, is just within his reach, and there is nothing to stop this. Ardyn's vengeance is sanctified by the gods themselves. But of course even that would not be enough. Unfortunately, the gods' promise to an end of their immortality cannot be obtained while in Avalon. They are bound to be bleed eternally.
"If your victory is not enough... then the end you seek is not here. For neither of us."
no subject
"But I have not won yet, brother. You and I both know that I never will as long as your precious master still exists. Or did you think me so narrow-minded that it is only you and your spawn that I want to see wiped off the face of Eos?"
Some part of his mind tells Ardyn that maybe he should hold his tongue - if (when?) they both return, Somnus knowing of Ardyn's aspirations to destroy Bahamut himself could throw a wrench into the plans. But he can't quite resist the temptation to declare his independence of the "divine" plan, even if in the end it might deprive Ardyn of his own rest.
no subject
Rebelling against the Draconian has always been met with power overwhelming, near the oppression of all of the memories of all of the history of the Star being flooded into the Chosen. Immortal or not, such power was never meant to impress upon human minds and bodies. Somnus won't even entertain the threat. Thus, he focuses on their present.
"We remain in this realm, apart from the Draconian's yoke. You are free, here."
no subject
"'Yoke'? My, Somnus, it almost sounds as though you do not enjoy serving your precious gods! Or is this yet another attempt to win my forgiveness, hmm?" Ardyn gives another one of his mocking grins, before a colder, arrogant fire flickers in his eyes. He withdraws his sword, hanging it on his belt. "Tell me, Somnus... What do you know of freedom? You've been quite content to be a slave to the gods. You and that woman both. You, in particular, fed your entire family to Bahamut's ambitions! And they never even thought to question the divine will, did they? A lineage of cowards."
Ardyn barks out a laugh, stepping back with a shrug and clearly intending to head out of the room. But he keeps his eyes on Somnus still, and gives one of his elaborate bows as a "goodbye".
"Well, I am different from you. Enjoy your farce of a 'freedom', Somnus. I have a little more ambition than that."
no subject
He will not dispute to correct any assumption, for Ardyn is free to believe what he believes, and now is not the time.
"Goodbye, brother."
Somnus makes no motion to stop him as he leaves, saying nothing more. It is clear that Ardyn speaks from a place of pain, loathing, and frustration, and centuries of wrath consuming him. He is free to feel those things, and he needn't tolerate Somnus' presence any longer.