[ at once, john knows what he needs to do. he no longer has time to worry about feelings when there's real work to be done. the entangled roots give him the guidance he needs to do what he's never been able to do before.
the Resurrection had been possible because the souls had never gone into the River; once that happens, there's no going back. john has never been able to separate a single soul from the stream of countless hungry ghosts, but with the Tree's help, it's like having a map to a buried treasure.
john knows there is no River here, but it's the familiar image his mind reaches for as he calls on a long-dead soul. they stand upon a damp, sandy bank alongside a deceptively still body of grey water. the clouds churning overhead are a green-tinged, oily grey mass. john recognises those same clouds from his memories, which despite his efforts, still manage to have an influence, however subtle.
john and set stand opposite a figure whose appearance can't seem to settle. it draws from both of them, shifting back and forth and achieving increasingly odd amalgamations as it grows more distressed. who are they? where is this place? what's happening?
its dead roots tighten around theirs, and the other Bearer starts taking more than just their images as if absorbing their essence and vitality will ease its existential pain.
it hurts, but john won't let go or let himself falter this time. roots have grown into and out of his Shard, and he's let the Tree work through him, steadying him alongside set even through the unpleasantness of having everything he is picked at by someone else. ]
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the Resurrection had been possible because the souls had never gone into the River; once that happens, there's no going back. john has never been able to separate a single soul from the stream of countless hungry ghosts, but with the Tree's help, it's like having a map to a buried treasure.
john knows there is no River here, but it's the familiar image his mind reaches for as he calls on a long-dead soul. they stand upon a damp, sandy bank alongside a deceptively still body of grey water. the clouds churning overhead are a green-tinged, oily grey mass. john recognises those same clouds from his memories, which despite his efforts, still manage to have an influence, however subtle.
john and set stand opposite a figure whose appearance can't seem to settle. it draws from both of them, shifting back and forth and achieving increasingly odd amalgamations as it grows more distressed. who are they? where is this place? what's happening?
its dead roots tighten around theirs, and the other Bearer starts taking more than just their images as if absorbing their essence and vitality will ease its existential pain.
it hurts, but john won't let go or let himself falter this time. roots have grown into and out of his Shard, and he's let the Tree work through him, steadying him alongside set even through the unpleasantness of having everything he is picked at by someone else. ]