[Regis almost pushes Izunia away. It's not a slight, merely an instinctive reaction. He's only allowed two people to see him like this and neither is here, neither is still among the living and that is just more grief to pile onto his shoulders--one loss much newer than the other, both still his fault.
What good is the power that let him protect a whole city when it didn't keep his wife's life from slipping from his fingers? What good is the ability to call weapons and magic to his grasp in an instant when it didn't allow him to keep his oldest friend from being cut down in front of him?
What good is any of it when in the end his son will never have the chance to live in the world everything was sacrificed to save?
There were days when the walls were all that kept him able to speak of the future with any kind of positivity, to keep confidence in it when he knew just what its cost would be. Without them, he is well on his way to finding out if it is truly possible to cry oneself out of tears.
Distantly, he knows that Izunia is speaking to him, humming a tune that Regis doesn't know if he should recognize or not. Both are things that feel as if they are happening a world away, things his mind doesn't really have the energy to deal with right now, so he doesn't, placing it all away to be dealt with later when he doesn't feel as if every fear, pain, and guilt-ridden feeling he's ever had has been exposed for the whole world to see.
Eventually the sobs and tears stop, though the stillness of the exhaustion that follows really doesn't help the feeling of vulnerability that settles over him. The flood of emotion has slowed, but it is still far too near the surface for his liking, far too easy for others to see and to touch without the walls between it and them.
Regis knows he should say something, but he is not quite ready yet and so he remains silent just a little longer, turning his head into Izunia's shoulder and taking several slow, long breaths as he begins piecing himself back together.]
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What good is the power that let him protect a whole city when it didn't keep his wife's life from slipping from his fingers? What good is the ability to call weapons and magic to his grasp in an instant when it didn't allow him to keep his oldest friend from being cut down in front of him?
What good is any of it when in the end his son will never have the chance to live in the world everything was sacrificed to save?
There were days when the walls were all that kept him able to speak of the future with any kind of positivity, to keep confidence in it when he knew just what its cost would be. Without them, he is well on his way to finding out if it is truly possible to cry oneself out of tears.
Distantly, he knows that Izunia is speaking to him, humming a tune that Regis doesn't know if he should recognize or not. Both are things that feel as if they are happening a world away, things his mind doesn't really have the energy to deal with right now, so he doesn't, placing it all away to be dealt with later when he doesn't feel as if every fear, pain, and guilt-ridden feeling he's ever had has been exposed for the whole world to see.
Eventually the sobs and tears stop, though the stillness of the exhaustion that follows really doesn't help the feeling of vulnerability that settles over him. The flood of emotion has slowed, but it is still far too near the surface for his liking, far too easy for others to see and to touch without the walls between it and them.
Regis knows he should say something, but he is not quite ready yet and so he remains silent just a little longer, turning his head into Izunia's shoulder and taking several slow, long breaths as he begins piecing himself back together.]