Yes. By my gift of sight am I able to seek out the fragments of their souls, and while they do not remember themselves... the crystals we created and the power with which they are infused serve to help them learn.
Well, I am able to pluck souls which have not yet dissipated from the Lifestream, yes... though I do not exactly raise the dead. They are all alive, in a technical sense. Each fragment of their soul constitutes an individual existence, broken as it is, and it is this existence that we uplift to their former office. But doing so does not repair the soul itself, only empowers that piece.
[it isn't enough.
but it's what they have, for now.]
As for my gift... I see the Lifestream itself. The aether within the world, the soul within any person, the hue and vibrance of it all.
[which should explain his crystal's words further.]
[there is so much to dissect here, and Chiron holds himself back from asking at least five new questions]
Such a gift would be considered a type of Mystic Eye on my world, approaching the realm of True Magic. You'd potentially have the ability to sense even Servants, as they are concentrated amounts of mana given human form.
[me and Chiron both: emet would be so overpowered in a Grail War, it's not even fair]
You say that souls have colors? It sounds beautiful.
[an arched brow, his tone faintly amused. his kind are magical as hell, all right.
but he's more somber, when chiron says it sounds beautiful.]
It was beautiful, once. Radiant and sparkling, each life vital and vibrant. The world as it is pales in comparison-- not even so much as a moon compared to the sun. A candle, perhaps.
And this world is duller still, for my lack of sight.
'Tis not so easy to peer into one's own... but I may.
[he doesn't say what it might be, though. that much seems to be for him alone.]
...I imagine yours to be verdant, tinged with grey; muted, but no less striking for it. An evenness without becoming completely colorless, its deep shade a reminder there is more than merely the surface.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[all of this is fine.]
no subject
-- Gift of sight?
[Ha. That's new. Chiron is already exhausted by this talk but he will glance sideways regardless]
That skill sounds more or less like being able to raise the dead.
[Yes, he understands all of the nuances that Emet has supplied, but what he is hearing is the literal harvesting of souls.]
no subject
Well, I am able to pluck souls which have not yet dissipated from the Lifestream, yes... though I do not exactly raise the dead. They are all alive, in a technical sense. Each fragment of their soul constitutes an individual existence, broken as it is, and it is this existence that we uplift to their former office. But doing so does not repair the soul itself, only empowers that piece.
[it isn't enough.
but it's what they have, for now.]
As for my gift... I see the Lifestream itself. The aether within the world, the soul within any person, the hue and vibrance of it all.
[which should explain his crystal's words further.]
no subject
[there is so much to dissect here, and Chiron holds himself back from asking at least five new questions]
Such a gift would be considered a type of Mystic Eye on my world, approaching the realm of True Magic. You'd potentially have the ability to sense even Servants, as they are concentrated amounts of mana given human form.
[me and Chiron both: emet would be so overpowered in a Grail War, it's not even fair]
You say that souls have colors? It sounds beautiful.
no subject
[an arched brow, his tone faintly amused. his kind are magical as hell, all right.
but he's more somber, when chiron says it sounds beautiful.]
It was beautiful, once. Radiant and sparkling, each life vital and vibrant. The world as it is pales in comparison-- not even so much as a moon compared to the sun. A candle, perhaps.
And this world is duller still, for my lack of sight.
no subject
Though, ah... his slightless eyes tick up when he hears the somber tone]
Yes... the world must seem so incredibly dull to your eyes now.
[another reminder of everything emet has left. There truly is no escape for him]
Do you know the color of your own soul...?
no subject
[he doesn't say what it might be, though. that much seems to be for him alone.]
...I imagine yours to be verdant, tinged with grey; muted, but no less striking for it. An evenness without becoming completely colorless, its deep shade a reminder there is more than merely the surface.
One builds certain associations, over the ages.
no subject
He had not asked, but wondered, and is momentarily caught off-guard by the detail of the answer granted to him.
Eventually he will smile a little to himself]
I would not doubt that you are correct.
... If I do not disappear immediately when our time here is finished, you may check if you like.