nexus_sages | In which Winter has a thematically appropriate query

Not all Nexus days can be sunshine and beautiful frost patterns. Days like this are a grim, sombre grey. The mist is so thin in places that all it does is make the distance fade away sooner than normal, but it does apply a more reserved filter on a place often filled with joyous shenanigans. No, this is unmistakeably a day which makes the multiverse feel close, secretive.

It's in this clandestine scenery that Reynard strolls about. Far from hopping or skating through the landscape, he strolls about the place, setting ice on the path and covering it with a dusting of snow. In the residential and commercial districts, he's sent ice along as many pipes as he could find. As he goes he rumbles a low slow tune. Some might recognise the sea shanty when he reaches the familiar 'Ho... Ho... and up she rises...'. He's not a bad singer, all things considered.

He looks up from his work and fixes his eyes on the nearest stranger, singing fading into a deep hum and then silence before he speaks. "What is the coldest thing you've ever done? The most cold hearted act you've ever brought yourself to commit. Go ahead. I'm not one to judge."

Just as the quiet settles back into place, he pipes up again. "Actually, you can tell me the literal coldest thing you've ever done too, if you'd prefer. I can't resist a good ice story."

((Reynard is still handing out Winter Curses & Blessings and causing trouble if you would like to avail of any. Other than that: Caution to those who talk to spirits, they are proud and fickle people.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The place I live in right now is certainly cold. A special biting cold that is rare elsewhere. But I would be glad of it snowing more. All year round, preferably. It's hard to get a place like that which still offers an income and access to decent wines."

Reynard lifts an eyebrow slowly, scrutinising the other man. "It is better to forget them, hm? Let them fade away and never mentioned again? Leave the dead, dead and forgotten, the past buried and ready to be repeated?"

"Not sure the mountains in the north of my world are good for that either. Not many people live there and the military base I visited is very isolated. I have no idea if they have any kind of wine to speak of on base." What a sad thought that is.

"It's better to remember, to use as lessons for the future. But I feel no need to drag the memories of the dead - on either side - through the metaphorical mud by speaking of them. Nor do I feel the need to share stories of the horrors of war. Surely you can understand that." Hughes gets the sense that Reynard has been around long enough to understand why someone would prefer to leave the past in the past. He's not trying to be ornery, but there are very few people he will willingly broach the subject with.

"You should send them some. I'm certain they'd love you for it."

It doesn't really matter if Reynard sympathises or not. He shows no sign of letting up, only holding Hughes' gaze. "The dead are already raised on days like these. They cling to those who saw their faces last, ghosts longing for peace, for comfort. Sharing stories is acknowledging them. You think that is more disrespectful than pretending that they didn't exist? That they didn't matter?"

"I'll have to look into how to do that when I get home." A way of earning himself some goodwill from his friends in the North is definitely a good thing to look into.

"But they did exist and history already speaks of it. Isn't that enough?" He did so many terrible things under orders. There was no malice or ill intent to it - he was simply doing as he was told. That is what makes it so difficult to speak of.

He hums a little, watching Hughes for a moment before deciding, "Your guilt says no, and you know it."

The man isn't wrong, and Hughes is much too big hearted to say otherwise. He wears his heart on his sleeve - a blessing and a curse in its own right.

"I'm not the most athletic man in the military, nor am I the most cunning, but I have an innate sense of what's important and an eye for detail. In war, I was the man behind enemy lines, reporting back details of movement and positioning. I was the one who supplied information that lead to the directed strikes and far too many massacres. The coldest thing I ever did? Following every order I was given so blindly."

"How often do you remember that?"

"Every single day. I've changed my path to correct what was started by that needless war - and I'm not doing it alone." They will fix what has been done to the world, one way or another. It's just a matter of time, and perhaps a bit of luck.

"I wonder... Will you be as ruthless in enforcing your virtues as you were in following orders?"

He frowns at the veiled accusation. "I'm changing things so that men like me will never be the ones in charge again. When the change is over, I expect I'll need a change of career."

"I fear you will die before you accomplish that goal."

"I was never doing this for my betterment. My life already belongs to the next generation through my daughter."

Reynard pauses, and then tilts his head. "Isn't your betterment the same as your daughter's? She needs her father. Or she'll want you."

Hughes shakes his head. "I'll be there for her as much as I can, but I won't enjoy the fruits of my labor like she will. Change at the scale I'm working on takes years to come to fruition, possibly even a lifetime."

"And what happens if you succeed and watch someone tear your work apart? The young and strong like to do that."

Hughes smiles. "That's the thing about change - if you offer it to the next generation by teaching them, there's no need to worry. I trust in the next generation as I help raise it. My daughter may be my only child, but by helping other young people through this, I'm helping shape their opinions and views of the world, too."

In which Winter has a thematically appropriate query

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