For a second, he only watches. "The last I'll ever see of it," he says, and while there's no obvious sadness in the words, there's no joy or relief in them, either.
"If you'd ask the what or the how of it, now may be your last chance." But it isn't a moment before Roland goes on, wanting to tell too much to really consider that Firo might not want to know. "It was - What was it? How to explain? It was a legend. The Manni always knew there were thousands of worlds, even when the rest of us forgot and doubted. The legend came from them, maybe, the knowledge of one place where all of our worlds - yours, mine, this one, there's a Tower in this one, somewhere, in some form - overlap. Interlock. And it was falling. And I was the one who-"
Who what? He tries to remember. What was it he did? He remembers stepping through its door for the first time, and later, stepping through its door for the first time, and stepping through again, and he remembers, he remembers -
He's slumping again against Firo, his breaths unsteady. "Did I?" He asks it faintly, and if hesitant isn't a mood which belongs in Roland's voice, whatever quiet, uncertain tone this is ought to have stayed away, too.
"I must have. I remember so many things, but not after. Is there one? After even this world's Tower is shut from me, what more is there? What more could there be, for a man like the one I am? The one I've turned myself into, in pursuit of it? I remember. All these memories, and I can't find that one. I never expected there'd be an after, after all. After everything. Maybe there isn't one. Maybe I can't find the memory because it simply isn't there."
"You see more than I do, right now. Do you see it? If there's a path for me, once this shuts? Once it's shut forever, at least from me?"
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For a second, he only watches. "The last I'll ever see of it," he says, and while there's no obvious sadness in the words, there's no joy or relief in them, either.
"If you'd ask the what or the how of it, now may be your last chance." But it isn't a moment before Roland goes on, wanting to tell too much to really consider that Firo might not want to know. "It was - What was it? How to explain? It was a legend. The Manni always knew there were thousands of worlds, even when the rest of us forgot and doubted. The legend came from them, maybe, the knowledge of one place where all of our worlds - yours, mine, this one, there's a Tower in this one, somewhere, in some form - overlap. Interlock. And it was falling. And I was the one who-"
Who what? He tries to remember. What was it he did? He remembers stepping through its door for the first time, and later, stepping through its door for the first time, and stepping through again, and he remembers, he remembers -
He's slumping again against Firo, his breaths unsteady. "Did I?" He asks it faintly, and if hesitant isn't a mood which belongs in Roland's voice, whatever quiet, uncertain tone this is ought to have stayed away, too.
"I must have. I remember so many things, but not after. Is there one? After even this world's Tower is shut from me, what more is there? What more could there be, for a man like the one I am? The one I've turned myself into, in pursuit of it? I remember. All these memories, and I can't find that one. I never expected there'd be an after, after all. After everything. Maybe there isn't one. Maybe I can't find the memory because it simply isn't there."
"You see more than I do, right now. Do you see it? If there's a path for me, once this shuts? Once it's shut forever, at least from me?"