[ for sylvain, it's a death long overdue. it's far more improbable that he's survived until now. before the war, too often the only thing that had kept him from making an irreversible choice, from rushing himself to a premature death during some of the worst years of his life, was a promise he'd made as a kid. so long as felix was around, sylvain was too—no matter how bad things were with miklan, with women, with his own, venomous self-hate.
of course, the war had been a different brand of hell, but it had at least shaken sylvain out of his self-centered misery. he stayed alive to fight alongside felix, for their home. there will be times he regrets it, and times he doesn't. times where their sacrifice holds meaning, and does not. it's difficult to take any single stance when you've been raised to live and die for your country—he holds as much affection as he does resentment for his home.
and while he won't presume exactly what felix does or doesn't feel towards rodrigue's death, sylvain can imagine he's torn in some way about it. felix has always spoken sharply against the ways of their society, critical of his own family, sylvain doesn't know him to be impervious to grief or loss for all his bristling discontent. ]
...I suppose it's possible not everyone who dies ends up here.
[ they'd run into swathes of their own soldiers, otherwise, the men and women they'd lost in their battalions, not just other generals and former academy graduates conscripted to the kingdom army.
...it's also possible rodrigue's soul has already been taken to the forges. but sylvain won't accept that, or give voice to it. ]
no subject
[ for sylvain, it's a death long overdue. it's far more improbable that he's survived until now. before the war, too often the only thing that had kept him from making an irreversible choice, from rushing himself to a premature death during some of the worst years of his life, was a promise he'd made as a kid. so long as felix was around, sylvain was too—no matter how bad things were with miklan, with women, with his own, venomous self-hate.
of course, the war had been a different brand of hell, but it had at least shaken sylvain out of his self-centered misery. he stayed alive to fight alongside felix, for their home. there will be times he regrets it, and times he doesn't. times where their sacrifice holds meaning, and does not. it's difficult to take any single stance when you've been raised to live and die for your country—he holds as much affection as he does resentment for his home.
and while he won't presume exactly what felix does or doesn't feel towards rodrigue's death, sylvain can imagine he's torn in some way about it. felix has always spoken sharply against the ways of their society, critical of his own family, sylvain doesn't know him to be impervious to grief or loss for all his bristling discontent. ]
...I suppose it's possible not everyone who dies ends up here.
[ they'd run into swathes of their own soldiers, otherwise, the men and women they'd lost in their battalions, not just other generals and former academy graduates conscripted to the kingdom army.
...it's also possible rodrigue's soul has already been taken to the forges. but sylvain won't accept that, or give voice to it. ]
Have you forgiven him?