All The Stars Bore Witness

Torment woke late on a fall morning, confronted with two facts: the weather was a bit too cold for the date, and Avernia was gone. No longer did she linger as the raven that woke him at the first sign of dawn, and no longer did he feel the weight of his grief. It was ten in the morning, but Torment didn't wait in his home, nor did he make food for himself before he left. Instead, through the winding streets of Firstlight, Torment went to find Favian. He didn't know what was to be said or what questions the oracle might be able to answer, but he went anyways towards Favian's home, taking Valxus with him. Valxus did not question Torment's route or his haste, knowing that his companion had been shaken from his grief and anger in recent days by the unyielding friendship the oracle had brought.

When they arrived at Favian's doorstep, Torment hesitated. He couldn't form a single one of the questions he had on his mind into words, the desperation to understand his condition overcome by his inability to convince himself that it was worth his king's time. It didn't matter in the end when the door opened anyway, and Favian stood before him with bags and a traveling cloak upon him. The bags were dropped almost instantly as Favian reached out to him to drag him into an embrace, immediately attempting to reassure the half-fiend whose distress was palpable. The odd, half-bent position was lost on Torment as he struggled to understand Favian's care as he had countless times before. It was not a new act for the oracle to hug Torment as he tried to comfort the tiefling, though he'd never understood the act.

"Avernia is gone," Torment said simply, though he struggled to find how he felt of that. There was no grief behind it, but perhaps there was a pang of guilt for the lack of grief. When he was finally let go, the faintest smile upon the oracle's face did little to aid the tiefling's understanding.

"You've come far from your misery and anger, my friend," Favian said. He sounded hopeful like Torment wanted to be. There was still the matter of the bags on the ground, abandoned and unexplained.

"You intend to leave," the tiefling observed. It was an easy change of subject.

"Yes, but I have all the time in the world to stay if you have need of me," the oracle offered in return. He'd always been selflessly, maddeningly kind.

"Where do you intend to go? You may no longer be Firstlight's king, but you are yet its moral compass," Torment asked, unwilling to insist that the oracle stay outside of the public good.

"I'm going on a pilgrimage, to the Mournwood and the old temple there. I'm a saint; it is only right for me to go," Favian answered. Torment could find no reason to protest. He wasn't sure why he'd considered the prospect of protest, anyhow.

"You'd go alone? Such a thing seems unwise. The way is dangerous, the Darkscar doubly so," the tiefling asserted, a hand gesturing to Favian's form as if to remind him of how frail he indeed was. The man's laughter seemed to echo the point.

"I'd intended to go alone - though I'm not opposed to company," the oracle corrected himself, ever polite.

"Then I'll go with you to guarantee your survival," Torment said, and the matter was settled between them. Favian would not argue; Torment would not back down. The tiefling stepped back from Favian's doorstep and allowed the oracle to get his bags once more, shutting the door behind himself. Favian's path was hardly heartening, heading nowhere near the stables.

"You intend to walk," the tiefling observed, disgruntled by the idea of taking such a long journey on foot.

"I could not provide for a horse's safety," Favian returned, fastening his bags across his back.

"Then I will walk with you. Valxus would not have us both," Torment said, and again the matter was settled. The roads were safe enough for the pair of them anyway, and Valxus, once informed, would head home for a much-deserved spell of alone time.

"Are you quite certain you want to come?" the oracle asked as they began upon the road out of town. Torment scoffed.

"You need not question my surety," the tiefling said; Favian did not doubt it.

"Very well then, my friend," Favian assented, and the two began their long journey.