IC INBOX for The Last Voyages

[magician_king]

You know what to do.

Comments

[magician_king]

You didn't. [Not particularly convincing.] Just.

This is just all my fault, and I- I'm really sorry. I'll just- be around, I guess, if you want- help, or magic, or anything, or company. When you want.

[credere]

It's not your fault-! You were trying to help. You did help. And you're helping now, I didn't think about what might happen if I...

Please. I know I'm a bad friend, I don't want to be, I'm trying. Please.

[magician_king]

Me too.

[He admits, shaky, but determined.]

You're not a bad friend. You've never been a bad friend. This is my fault, and you've been generous enough to try to protect me from that.

[credere]

I just...

I just wanted to not be me. For a while. Without hurting anybody. And I wanted - to choose.

[magician_king]

I guess it's important to have outlets for your stress, but equally important to not hate yourself.

I want you to have that control, I want you to have that freedom to express yourself, explore, be powerful and wild- but I don't like the idea of you feeling like being Credence Barebone is a terrible thing. Because he's my best friend- and I'll stick up for him against you if I've got to.

And, aside from all that- you do have to be careful, because I didn't make that up about the bloody snaps. But maybe there's a way to do it with the Admiral's power cap. Like, you can only turn in the Enclosure or something.

[credere]

[Which means he's relying on someone to let him through the door. Which means it isn't his choice. So in his head there's no difference between that and relying on Quentin.]

This is all just because of the flood. Tomorrow I might - this might all have gone away.

[magician_king]

What's-

[He doesn't see it. Which is a shame, because he'd have a solution for that. But.]

I guess it might. But don't just pretend it has because it's easier to ignore your own needs.

[credere]

I won't.

[Yeah, you will, buddy.]

I mean. I don't even know what I need.

[magician_king]

That's self-awareness.

I guess the only thing to do is to think about it, and tell by what thought brings you pain, what's needed. What's best.

[credere]

But how can I ever know I'm right? I thought it would maybe help if I - but you're right, it's too dangerous, it'll just make things worse.

[magician_king]

What were you going to say? Maybe we can mitigate the danger.

[credere]

I just...if it's the Enclosure, or if it's your magic, then...I'm still relying on somebody else, to - to give me permission,

[magician_king]

...hang on. Wait there a second.

[He's up and running.]

[credere]

What - ?

[Well, he's too sad and confused to move.]

[magician_king]

[Before too long, it comes. A poker chip, tucked under the door.

It didn't belong to Quentin to begin with. It might as well go where it can do some good.

[credere]

Needless to say, this doesn't get to be a silent drop - Credence scoops it up, stares for one uncomprehending moment, then opens the door.

"Quentin-?"

Goldstein is still cradled against his body with his other arm.

[magician_king]

"Hey."

Says Quentin, freezing, caught. It's harder to pretend to be calm in person.

"So- that'll get you into the Enclosure."

[credere]

And then it lands. He remembers that Quentin's warden gave him his Item, but he doesn't recall seeing what it was.

"I - n-no. This is yours. He gave it to you."

He holds it out, on an open palm.

[magician_king]

"I can't think of anything in the world I'd rather do with it."

He promises, backing up a step, tucking his hands behind his back.

"Seriously. It's better if it's with you."

[credere]

"I don't want it! I don't - "

He shakes his head.

"I don't want to b-be the first person who knows if you die. I'm sorry."

That's what it is, to him. Not a skeleton key, but the opportunity to know when he could have saved his friend from terrible pain and didn't.

[magician_king]

"I never die. I haven't since my first month on board, three years ago."

He points out, but stops backing off, at least.

"It'd let you be what you want to be. Without the risks."

[credere]

Credence swallows the lump in his throat.

"I - I don't think that's true."

He's still thinking about things he can't control. Nightmares. Floods. Veins and fur. He can't have what he wants. There's no escape from what he is. There never was. That's fine.

"Please take it back."

[magician_king]

"Okay."

He says, at last, baffled, but too wrong-footed to argue. He comes slowly over, holding his hand reluctantly.

"If that's what you want."

[credere]

"Yes."

No. Maybe. He has no idea what he wants, any more. Can't trust himself to even guess.

Freak.

He places the poker chip back into Quentin's hand.

"Thank you for offering. It's - very kind of you."

[magician_king]

"I'm sorry that I couldn't do more."

He says, tucking it in his pocket, watching the floor.