Just Another Wall — Hatch
“Do you think it’ll work?”
The tone of his voice betrayed an emotion that seemed so foreign to his larger-than-life personality. But you understood why he was apprehensive. You both stood on the precipice of what could be your chance to take the bond you shared full-circle.
“I think we have to try at least,” you offered, “If it works, we’ll go a long way to closing the book on an era of past sins. And if it doesn’t, there’s nothing stopping us from trying again.”
“You’re right, as usual,” he sighed, his whole frame relaxing, “no matter what, this is a step in the right direction.”
“There’s a kind of cosmic poetry to it, you know,” you explained, “A wish from the long-held keeper of wishes, made manifest by those who would normally sequester such power for themselves. It’s a reversal in every sense. From the ashes of our darkest hour comes a hope for a renewed flame.”
“That’s not lost on me at all. Ever since the moment we met, you’ve had a penchant for inverting the norm. I think you get off on it.”
“I do not-” you scowled, “you know what, maybe we should talk about all the things you’ve gotten off to lately. Not least among which were some dusty old bones.”
“Oh, now that’s a low jab. You know that was for science!” the flustered dragon argued, “and she certainly wasn’t complaining, or do you not remember that part? I seem to recall you were watching rather intently the whole time.”
“You’re right. And you did perform admirably. It was certainly a sight to behold, seeing you with one of your own, even simulated as it was.”
“It definitely felt real,” he laughed. “Honestly with your technology I don’t understand why you ever wanted our wish magic to begin with.”
“There are certain things that are within the realm of our understanding,” you explained, “and a universe of things that are without. Even the most advanced equipment only helps with the former.”
“Which is why even with the big words and fancy machines your cryptologist friend has, it still comes down to a wish. My last chance at a lineage of my own, formed by the very power I forsook to get here.”
“Does it bother you,” you asked, “that the future of your species relies on just how well you’ve taught me to harness the wish magic?”
“If I thought teaching you to weave the fabric of the universe would yield anything less than perfection, I would not have taught you,” he reassured, “But are you worried? What I’m asking of you, the last piece of this puzzle… if you pull it off it will still be quite a feat.”
“Well,” you laughed, “How much trouble could One More Wish be?”
The tone of his voice betrayed an emotion that seemed so foreign to his larger-than-life personality. But you understood why he was apprehensive. You both stood on the precipice of what could be your chance to take the bond you shared full-circle.
“I think we have to try at least,” you offered, “If it works, we’ll go a long way to closing the book on an era of past sins. And if it doesn’t, there’s nothing stopping us from trying again.”
“You’re right, as usual,” he sighed, his whole frame relaxing, “no matter what, this is a step in the right direction.”
“There’s a kind of cosmic poetry to it, you know,” you explained, “A wish from the long-held keeper of wishes, made manifest by those who would normally sequester such power for themselves. It’s a reversal in every sense. From the ashes of our darkest hour comes a hope for a renewed flame.”
“That’s not lost on me at all. Ever since the moment we met, you’ve had a penchant for inverting the norm. I think you get off on it.”
“I do not-” you scowled, “you know what, maybe we should talk about all the things you’ve gotten off to lately. Not least among which were some dusty old bones.”
“Oh, now that’s a low jab. You know that was for science!” the flustered dragon argued, “and she certainly wasn’t complaining, or do you not remember that part? I seem to recall you were watching rather intently the whole time.”
“You’re right. And you did perform admirably. It was certainly a sight to behold, seeing you with one of your own, even simulated as it was.”
“It definitely felt real,” he laughed. “Honestly with your technology I don’t understand why you ever wanted our wish magic to begin with.”
“There are certain things that are within the realm of our understanding,” you explained, “and a universe of things that are without. Even the most advanced equipment only helps with the former.”
“Which is why even with the big words and fancy machines your cryptologist friend has, it still comes down to a wish. My last chance at a lineage of my own, formed by the very power I forsook to get here.”
“Does it bother you,” you asked, “that the future of your species relies on just how well you’ve taught me to harness the wish magic?”
“If I thought teaching you to weave the fabric of the universe would yield anything less than perfection, I would not have taught you,” he reassured, “But are you worried? What I’m asking of you, the last piece of this puzzle… if you pull it off it will still be quite a feat.”
“Well,” you laughed, “How much trouble could One More Wish be?”
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