"My eyes make no mistake in what they see, Ravus." Because what else but a sweet man would say so readily that he would take the blood beneath his nails and dirt up to his knuckles, if he asked it?
Ignis is unsure of there is anything sweeter than such devotion. At least, he hopes it is as sweet to others as it tastes on his tongue, for he too knows no other way to be. Nothing but the willingness to leave ashes in his footsteps, and never-ending bloodstains beneath his fingertips.
And yet there is a task at hand. So as Ravus turns back to the corpse, Ignis turns back to its hole, and continues to push past the stubbornness of earth. In truth, it is not so bad as it could be. It gives way to his blade even more gently than Ardyn's flesh had, soft and fertile, waiting for the last stage of life to be buried beneath is to that the first could begin anew.
Because of this, he is able to pay some mind to what Ravus does. Not enough to get an exact idea of what exactly he is doing with his hands, certainly, but enough to hear the words. To understand a bit of the Tenebraen he says.
It really is a beautiful language. In another life, perhaps he would have had the chance to hear it more often - bonds between Lucis and Tenebrae kept strong, visits allowed to happen freely, friendships to flourish. In another life, the Empire never would have attacked it, and he could have seen a place only known through pictures and Noctis's stories.
In another life, would he have been able to hear these words said quietly in more peaceful deaths, and understand them more fully?
In another life, would he have gotten to know Ravus sooner?
Just idle ponderings. What's more important is that he does not interrupt Ravus, save for the repeated thunk and shift of his axe into the dirt. Ignis keeps working even long after Ravus has fallen silent, just to make sure that he isn't interrupting any particularly important pauses.
"...I feel my Tenebraen is lacking, especially with less time to keep up on my studies in recent months due to circumstances, but... The sentiment was beautiful, Ravus."
no subject
Ignis is unsure of there is anything sweeter than such devotion. At least, he hopes it is as sweet to others as it tastes on his tongue, for he too knows no other way to be. Nothing but the willingness to leave ashes in his footsteps, and never-ending bloodstains beneath his fingertips.
And yet there is a task at hand. So as Ravus turns back to the corpse, Ignis turns back to its hole, and continues to push past the stubbornness of earth. In truth, it is not so bad as it could be. It gives way to his blade even more gently than Ardyn's flesh had, soft and fertile, waiting for the last stage of life to be buried beneath is to that the first could begin anew.
Because of this, he is able to pay some mind to what Ravus does. Not enough to get an exact idea of what exactly he is doing with his hands, certainly, but enough to hear the words. To understand a bit of the Tenebraen he says.
It really is a beautiful language. In another life, perhaps he would have had the chance to hear it more often - bonds between Lucis and Tenebrae kept strong, visits allowed to happen freely, friendships to flourish. In another life, the Empire never would have attacked it, and he could have seen a place only known through pictures and Noctis's stories.
In another life, would he have been able to hear these words said quietly in more peaceful deaths, and understand them more fully?
In another life, would he have gotten to know Ravus sooner?
Just idle ponderings. What's more important is that he does not interrupt Ravus, save for the repeated thunk and shift of his axe into the dirt. Ignis keeps working even long after Ravus has fallen silent, just to make sure that he isn't interrupting any particularly important pauses.
"...I feel my Tenebraen is lacking, especially with less time to keep up on my studies in recent months due to circumstances, but... The sentiment was beautiful, Ravus."