Prompto's... sort of heard about it. He heard something went down in that abbey, anyway. Something about miracle healing and an elf and a rifter and a whole bunch of other stuff. Inquisition personnel gossip more and more outrageously than the pettiest, most bored bunch of housewives, so Prompto's learned to take the stories with a grain of salt.
When Myr finds him, Prompto's looking down, cleaning up his bow and tightening the string. He's rather focused, and doesn't even hear Myr approach until he says his name. He doesn't look up immediately when he says, "Hey, Myr." Only after he finishes tightening the string does he look up, and--
UH
WAIT
ARE THOSE--
"Myr? Wha - you've-" Prompto immediately stands up (why that makes a difference, who knows, a surprised brain is not a rational creature). Those are definitely eyes in his head. "How-"
How, Prompto asks, and one corner of Myr's mouth quirks upward in a smile that's not so joyous as it could be. "A miracle," he answers the incomplete question. "It's what they told me it would take." Turns out they were right.
He notices the bow only belatedly; should've assumed something had his friend's attention from his posture, but he's still relearning how to put together what he sees with what it means. "Sorry to interrupt," he adds, more brightly--more like himself. "D'you mind if I join you?"
And by that he means he'll answer any other questions that might come up.
A miracle. He says it almost casually. He thinks back to the grief demon, and how it promised him to save Ignis' vision. Myr said it had been impossible. But if he found a miracle to help him, then maybe...
"Nah, I was just finishing up." Prompto shoves the bow aside to let Myr sit down. "Feel free." Because oh yes, he has quite a few questions for Myr, but he's mindful to at least not start spouting them off until Myr's seated and looking at him.
"Was it some kind of healing? ...wait, stupid question. It had to be, right? But who?"
It's that same thought--of Ignis, who'd come not so very long ago to ask Myr how he coped in a world not made for the blind, a world that always found them less than--that lurks behind the shadow in Myr's smile. (That, and so much else.)
He stalls a moment as Prompto clears space--not because he's unsure of his welcome but because this is the bit where someone would ordinarily say what they'd done, and he'd reach out and feel his way to a seat, and-- That's all disconnected now. He gives an abrupt shake of his head, reaching out to touch his intended spot and be sure of it anyhow before settling himself beside his friend.
"Never a stupid question," he replies, with most of his usual warmth. "Truly--it wasn't like any healing I've ever experienced," and he shivers as he says it, because there's no forgetting that rushing, flowing cold, "so I don't know I'd call it that. The revered mother of the abbey we'd been invited to--a woman named Alvar."
Which reduces the whole tragic mess to an almost comic simplicity and he nearly winces as he says it. "Though not without help. It's--well, I'll put the question to you: D'you want the whole thing from the beginning?"
There's a hesitation in Myr, one that Prompto isn't sure what to attribute to. Was something bothering him? Or was he unused to the luxury still of just being able to plop in his seat without having to feel his way there? It has to be a huge adjustment for him. Prompto lets Myr settle in as needed before listening.
The abbey. Yes he heard a few weird rumors and with the way Myr is shifting and almost grimacing, for the first time he's taking the rumors seriously. Prompto tilts his head a bit as Myr poses his question. "If you're willing. Heard a few wild stories about that place but my assignments kept me away from it."
"I'm willing." Although, Myr thinks to himself, it doesn't matter if he's not because it's something that needs to be told--in all its gory detail--anyhow.
Less one or two of those details, and the omission will twist in his chest when he gets to that part of the story, and he will go on and tell it anyway as they'd planned--because if there's anything he's learned from the debacle it's that no one wants to see these things for what they are and so much harm can come of that. He huffs out a sigh at the thought and settles himself a little more comfortably. It's not the longest story but he suspects they'll be a while at it.
"Right. So I'd heard a little about it--mm, well before this all started, months ago--because of the miracles they do there--did there," and how that past tense hurts, but he doesn't show it. "Healing that magic couldn't achieve, the sort you only hear about in the Chant or from Andraste's ashes. --The Chantry, by the way, disavows miracles unless those ashes are involved; the Maker's turned His back on the world so anyone claiming divine power's a charlatan or worse."
Or worse, including apostates, but that's--not a rathole worth going down, not right now. Nor the part where saying it that way implies Myr believes quite differently on the matter from Chantry orthodoxy.
"So I'm a little skeptical of it all to begin with but don't think much else of it because it's way far off in the nether reaches of Ferelden on an island nobody'd go to otherwise."
Somehow, it doesn't surprise Prompto the Chantry would disavow such things, even if they were real. But then there's much about the Chantry that Prompto doesn't agree with or understand. However, Saoirse is devout, as is Myr, so he's long since learned to keep quiet about it. He respects their faith and beliefs, and given that he's a Rifter, he has little room to shit on the Chantry. As much as he kind of wants to sometimes...
The use of the past tense isn't lost on him, but he lets it go. Ten to one Myr will explain that later on.
"Those sorts of things tend to happen in the weirdest places. Remote islands seem like prime miracle spots. That and creepy underground tombs." Don't ask. "So you knew about it but didn't think much of it. Okay. What made you change your mind?"
"You'll need to tell me about the tombs sometime," Myr replies with a lopsided smile. Too late: He asked. "Unless it's just like the last one we were in," Nevarra, "in which case I'll imagine the details for myself."
Or, like, not, because he doesn't need more trauma in his life. Whether or not his mind cooperates on that...
"They sent the Inquisition this huge sum of money and a request that some of our rifters come out for a visit. Nothing more than that, no strings attached--but it's so much more than they should've had. So of course we went, and," something hitches in his voice, "there were people there who'd been healed by their Revered Mother. One of them brought back nearly from the dead. They were all glad to talk about it--they were all glad about everything; you can't imagine how kind they were.
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YES GOOD
Date: 2018-10-03 09:45 pm (UTC)When Myr finds him, Prompto's looking down, cleaning up his bow and tightening the string. He's rather focused, and doesn't even hear Myr approach until he says his name. He doesn't look up immediately when he says, "Hey, Myr." Only after he finishes tightening the string does he look up, and--
UH
WAIT
ARE THOSE--
"Myr? Wha - you've-" Prompto immediately stands up (why that makes a difference, who knows, a surprised brain is not a rational creature). Those are definitely eyes in his head. "How-"
no subject
Date: 2018-10-07 07:29 am (UTC)He notices the bow only belatedly; should've assumed something had his friend's attention from his posture, but he's still relearning how to put together what he sees with what it means. "Sorry to interrupt," he adds, more brightly--more like himself. "D'you mind if I join you?"
And by that he means he'll answer any other questions that might come up.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-15 06:39 pm (UTC)"Nah, I was just finishing up." Prompto shoves the bow aside to let Myr sit down. "Feel free." Because oh yes, he has quite a few questions for Myr, but he's mindful to at least not start spouting them off until Myr's seated and looking at him.
"Was it some kind of healing? ...wait, stupid question. It had to be, right? But who?"
no subject
Date: 2018-10-25 05:45 am (UTC)He stalls a moment as Prompto clears space--not because he's unsure of his welcome but because this is the bit where someone would ordinarily say what they'd done, and he'd reach out and feel his way to a seat, and-- That's all disconnected now. He gives an abrupt shake of his head, reaching out to touch his intended spot and be sure of it anyhow before settling himself beside his friend.
"Never a stupid question," he replies, with most of his usual warmth. "Truly--it wasn't like any healing I've ever experienced," and he shivers as he says it, because there's no forgetting that rushing, flowing cold, "so I don't know I'd call it that. The revered mother of the abbey we'd been invited to--a woman named Alvar."
Which reduces the whole tragic mess to an almost comic simplicity and he nearly winces as he says it. "Though not without help. It's--well, I'll put the question to you: D'you want the whole thing from the beginning?"
no subject
Date: 2018-10-27 11:41 pm (UTC)The abbey. Yes he heard a few weird rumors and with the way Myr is shifting and almost grimacing, for the first time he's taking the rumors seriously. Prompto tilts his head a bit as Myr poses his question. "If you're willing. Heard a few wild stories about that place but my assignments kept me away from it."
lmk if this is a good length or i should add MOAR STORY
Date: 2018-11-09 11:18 am (UTC)Less one or two of those details, and the omission will twist in his chest when he gets to that part of the story, and he will go on and tell it anyway as they'd planned--because if there's anything he's learned from the debacle it's that no one wants to see these things for what they are and so much harm can come of that. He huffs out a sigh at the thought and settles himself a little more comfortably. It's not the longest story but he suspects they'll be a while at it.
"Right. So I'd heard a little about it--mm, well before this all started, months ago--because of the miracles they do there--did there," and how that past tense hurts, but he doesn't show it. "Healing that magic couldn't achieve, the sort you only hear about in the Chant or from Andraste's ashes. --The Chantry, by the way, disavows miracles unless those ashes are involved; the Maker's turned His back on the world so anyone claiming divine power's a charlatan or worse."
Or worse, including apostates, but that's--not a rathole worth going down, not right now. Nor the part where saying it that way implies Myr believes quite differently on the matter from Chantry orthodoxy.
"So I'm a little skeptical of it all to begin with but don't think much else of it because it's way far off in the nether reaches of Ferelden on an island nobody'd go to otherwise."
s'all good!
Date: 2018-11-16 02:39 am (UTC)The use of the past tense isn't lost on him, but he lets it go. Ten to one Myr will explain that later on.
"Those sorts of things tend to happen in the weirdest places. Remote islands seem like prime miracle spots. That and creepy underground tombs." Don't ask. "So you knew about it but didn't think much of it. Okay. What made you change your mind?"
welcome to graduate school, where time off is made up and breaks don't matter lfmsk ;w;
Date: 2019-01-07 09:24 am (UTC)Or, like, not, because he doesn't need more trauma in his life. Whether or not his mind cooperates on that...
"They sent the Inquisition this huge sum of money and a request that some of our rifters come out for a visit. Nothing more than that, no strings attached--but it's so much more than they should've had. So of course we went, and," something hitches in his voice, "there were people there who'd been healed by their Revered Mother. One of them brought back nearly from the dead. They were all glad to talk about it--they were all glad about everything; you can't imagine how kind they were.
"It's how the Chant should be lived."