And that's a thought for another time - if Roland could actually, truly handle it. The sheer destruction brought about by a nuclear blast wasn't a joke, and not one he could certainly walk into unscathed. It's the very reason why he was willing to one day reach out to Senku, ask for his brain so he could be ready for a wasteland without hurting himself in the process of rebuilding his kingdom from the ashes. An army of one, if he must. He'd gladly do it, in honor of the millions he failed.
But that's not why Roland's eyes slowly grow wide; why his grip around Inigo loosens somewhat in his disbelief. He never once doubted Inigo's feelings when it came to helping others. His tears were always waiting on the surface, but they were never fake, they were never shed for the sake of anything but expressing just how much he cares for others. Roland's not sure to what capacity Inigo can continue to do so, to the point where he's so willing to take a chance, a crazy little risk for someone like Roland if it means he wouldn't be alone. The shine in Jumblie is only a confirmation of what Roland sees with his own two eyes: the way Inigo's mouth tightens into a line, the determination seeping out of him without restraint. A prince who will save his world, pay the ultimate price of letting his existence go, then...then, what? He'd ask Naga to come back, help Earth?
Magic can create miracles, couldn't they? Wonders beyond your wildest imaginings.
He'd deny him. Roland would deny anyone. It's not their job; not their burden to carry. The weight of his crown would always rest on weary shoulders, but Roland's never been one to give up despite it all. Yet here is Inigo who is ceaseless in his affection, his only doubt being if Roland thought he didn't matter enough to take it. It's true. He doesn't. Not to Inigo. Not when Inigo's own world is in such a state of peril and darkness - the Risen? Straight out of a zombie flick!
Roland closes his eyes, the flood of warmth coursing through his veins undeniable. How could he say any of that to Inigo?
Without an ounce of hesitation, he slowly brings him back into a firm embrace. Roland's head finds solace in the juncture between Inigo's neck and shoulder, arms around his back. Jumblie is kind enough to give space without intrusion, settling into the other side of Inigo's shoulder like a group hug. His voice is muffled against Inigo's shirt, but he continues anyway.
"Okay."
He means it. He wants to say it. He might never get the chance again.
"Okay then. You can come with me. We'll do it together. Whatever lies ahead." Roland doesn't doubt it; Inigo would come, he'd run, fly, speed down whatever void highway lies between him and his goal. To save, to make people happy. That's just who he is. The sunshine, the light; breaking through clouds, through Risen, through dragons that threaten to devour worlds. This is Inigo, the boy he's called son too.
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But that's not why Roland's eyes slowly grow wide; why his grip around Inigo loosens somewhat in his disbelief. He never once doubted Inigo's feelings when it came to helping others. His tears were always waiting on the surface, but they were never fake, they were never shed for the sake of anything but expressing just how much he cares for others. Roland's not sure to what capacity Inigo can continue to do so, to the point where he's so willing to take a chance, a crazy little risk for someone like Roland if it means he wouldn't be alone. The shine in Jumblie is only a confirmation of what Roland sees with his own two eyes: the way Inigo's mouth tightens into a line, the determination seeping out of him without restraint. A prince who will save his world, pay the ultimate price of letting his existence go, then...then, what? He'd ask Naga to come back, help Earth?
Magic can create miracles, couldn't they? Wonders beyond your wildest imaginings.
He'd deny him. Roland would deny anyone. It's not their job; not their burden to carry. The weight of his crown would always rest on weary shoulders, but Roland's never been one to give up despite it all. Yet here is Inigo who is ceaseless in his affection, his only doubt being if Roland thought he didn't matter enough to take it. It's true. He doesn't. Not to Inigo. Not when Inigo's own world is in such a state of peril and darkness - the Risen? Straight out of a zombie flick!
Roland closes his eyes, the flood of warmth coursing through his veins undeniable. How could he say any of that to Inigo?
Without an ounce of hesitation, he slowly brings him back into a firm embrace. Roland's head finds solace in the juncture between Inigo's neck and shoulder, arms around his back. Jumblie is kind enough to give space without intrusion, settling into the other side of Inigo's shoulder like a group hug. His voice is muffled against Inigo's shirt, but he continues anyway.
"Okay."
He means it. He wants to say it. He might never get the chance again.
"Okay then. You can come with me. We'll do it together. Whatever lies ahead." Roland doesn't doubt it; Inigo would come, he'd run, fly, speed down whatever void highway lies between him and his goal. To save, to make people happy. That's just who he is. The sunshine, the light; breaking through clouds, through Risen, through dragons that threaten to devour worlds. This is Inigo, the boy he's called son too.
"Thank you."