Friends. Yes, they were dear friends, comrades and family. "Pray forgive me. It was a poor jest on a vain desire. Both Lahabrea and Emet-Selch are gone." There is a finality present in the last word. Immortal, yes. But they could be killed. Whatever negative Darkness there is to grief Xehanort might feel, it is present here.
"No facade, no... reality would return the ones I knew to the present." When their souls returned, they would be different people. Mighty, perhaps, if they survived their encounter with the Warrior of Light intact. Yet the thought of attempting to rise them up with the Convocation's stones now in his keeping left a bad taste in the Ascian's mouth. And Emet-Selch's final actions. To help the Warrior of Light perhaps. But could it not have also been a message to Elidibus as well? He had time and presence of mind to consider such matters, now.
He could turn back the hands of the clock if he prepared and timed things right. But that plan is carefully kept locked inside. The train was not private; it didn't matter if he could or could not trust Xehanort with the plan. Other people could overhear it.
Elidibus is alert to the researcher's tone. And while it doesn't immediately suggest the conversation they had on the obligation owed to the vessels they now possess, as Xehanort speaks up in regards to the Ascian's attitude, the memory is recalled.
Having his position as Emissary questioned cuts deep and also reminds him of recent thoughts on what he would be if he were not Elidibus. The restoration of many precious memories hasn't entirely erased those fears completely.
Xehanort has made a point though. The answer is slow to come but not simply because the Ascian is reluctant on some level. There was some time spent thinking as well.
"...I wonder when I changed. Was it after the sacrifice to create our God? Or before, when the Final Days changed our lives so fundamentally?" Or just the pile of years watching shattered fragments of their people wander unknowing of their fate, calling themselves mortals and seeing how much they are diminished. It could not have taken long, since Elidibus had agreed the best course was their ultimate sacrifice.
He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. You're bold, but you speak the truth. I can't find fault in your words."
He's fairly sure, now, he wouldn't have been so disdainful of the coloring book once upon a time. Before the Final Days, when some new outlook was to be admired and explored even if (or perhaps because of) its simplicity. He wouldn't have needed suggestions or prompting to do so.
"I've recently wondered what would have happened if we had pursued another way to save our world and people." In the midst of grief and regret, true. But it and many more were running high when he was pulled to the train rather than absorbed into the Crystal Tower. "Though even then, I think I had more regret for the dear friends I'd lost than the plight of the mortals."
Elidibus looks at Xehanort directly. Whether it may or may not be discerned, the open nature of the conversation accepts the dark-skinned man's implication that they are of the same species. A willingness to accept the idea this is somehow a far-flung soul of his people. "I do watch these mortals on the train. They are different. Though many repeat the same patterns I'm familiar with it's... helpful they aren't the shattered souls of my people." Most of them aren't. There is one currently. "I can look at them and seek out their worth and not see a poor soul whose light has dimmed and I must save."
The Ascian stops himself. Inhaling and releasing the breath, he simply finishes. "It's shameful to admit you're correct about my behavior and I'll be more watchful. If nothing more, I sincerely wish to better understand them."
CW: Lots of FFXIV Spoilers/ShB Spoilers
"No facade, no... reality would return the ones I knew to the present." When their souls returned, they would be different people. Mighty, perhaps, if they survived their encounter with the Warrior of Light intact. Yet the thought of attempting to rise them up with the Convocation's stones now in his keeping left a bad taste in the Ascian's mouth. And Emet-Selch's final actions. To help the Warrior of Light perhaps. But could it not have also been a message to Elidibus as well? He had time and presence of mind to consider such matters, now.
He could turn back the hands of the clock if he prepared and timed things right. But that plan is carefully kept locked inside. The train was not private; it didn't matter if he could or could not trust Xehanort with the plan. Other people could overhear it.
Elidibus is alert to the researcher's tone. And while it doesn't immediately suggest the conversation they had on the obligation owed to the vessels they now possess, as Xehanort speaks up in regards to the Ascian's attitude, the memory is recalled.
Having his position as Emissary questioned cuts deep and also reminds him of recent thoughts on what he would be if he were not Elidibus. The restoration of many precious memories hasn't entirely erased those fears completely.
Xehanort has made a point though. The answer is slow to come but not simply because the Ascian is reluctant on some level. There was some time spent thinking as well.
"...I wonder when I changed. Was it after the sacrifice to create our God? Or before, when the Final Days changed our lives so fundamentally?" Or just the pile of years watching shattered fragments of their people wander unknowing of their fate, calling themselves mortals and seeing how much they are diminished. It could not have taken long, since Elidibus had agreed the best course was their ultimate sacrifice.
He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. You're bold, but you speak the truth. I can't find fault in your words."
He's fairly sure, now, he wouldn't have been so disdainful of the coloring book once upon a time. Before the Final Days, when some new outlook was to be admired and explored even if (or perhaps because of) its simplicity. He wouldn't have needed suggestions or prompting to do so.
"I've recently wondered what would have happened if we had pursued another way to save our world and people." In the midst of grief and regret, true. But it and many more were running high when he was pulled to the train rather than absorbed into the Crystal Tower. "Though even then, I think I had more regret for the dear friends I'd lost than the plight of the mortals."
Elidibus looks at Xehanort directly. Whether it may or may not be discerned, the open nature of the conversation accepts the dark-skinned man's implication that they are of the same species. A willingness to accept the idea this is somehow a far-flung soul of his people. "I do watch these mortals on the train. They are different. Though many repeat the same patterns I'm familiar with it's... helpful they aren't the shattered souls of my people." Most of them aren't. There is one currently. "I can look at them and seek out their worth and not see a poor soul whose light has dimmed and I must save."
The Ascian stops himself. Inhaling and releasing the breath, he simply finishes. "It's shameful to admit you're correct about my behavior and I'll be more watchful. If nothing more, I sincerely wish to better understand them."