He would not weep. He would not. He wouldn't, but his mind was still cartwheeling over everything he no longer had. He would never be able to see the stars. He had enjoyed the stars. He'd never see a sunrise, either. Or the ocean, ever again. He'd never--
Reading. He wouldn't be able to read. The written word was barred to him.
Despite his best efforts, Solomon's breathing grew slightly ragged, his fingers trembling. His name in Skulduggery's voice sank in, but it was Valkryie's close presence which made him flinch.
Enough.
Solomon counted to ten. Ten more seconds to let himself wallow in self-pity. Then he told himself sternly that he had been born into a world with oral traditions, and he could adjust to them again. That although he wouldn't see the stars, he could feel the sun. That he could listen to the waves on the shore.
Most of all, that of all the things he would no longer see, he could now see things no one else on this Earth could imagine.
"I'm alright." His voice was quiet and only the faintest bit unsteady. His eyes burned and his throat was still tight, but he had kept the tears properly at bay. Another slow inhale, held, then exhaled, and Solomon lifted his head with a smile. It was a slightly twisted smile, twisted with all the things he was containing and with nostalgia.
"Do you remember when you first brought me here, Skulduggery? It was for my sixteenth birthday, if I recall. I asked a great many questions, and you answered each and every one of them. I believed every word you said, of course, but most of them were completely made-up, because you'd only been here once before yourself. Do you remember that?"
no subject
Reading. He wouldn't be able to read. The written word was barred to him.
Despite his best efforts, Solomon's breathing grew slightly ragged, his fingers trembling. His name in Skulduggery's voice sank in, but it was Valkryie's close presence which made him flinch.
Enough.
Solomon counted to ten. Ten more seconds to let himself wallow in self-pity. Then he told himself sternly that he had been born into a world with oral traditions, and he could adjust to them again. That although he wouldn't see the stars, he could feel the sun. That he could listen to the waves on the shore.
Most of all, that of all the things he would no longer see, he could now see things no one else on this Earth could imagine.
"I'm alright." His voice was quiet and only the faintest bit unsteady. His eyes burned and his throat was still tight, but he had kept the tears properly at bay. Another slow inhale, held, then exhaled, and Solomon lifted his head with a smile. It was a slightly twisted smile, twisted with all the things he was containing and with nostalgia.
"Do you remember when you first brought me here, Skulduggery? It was for my sixteenth birthday, if I recall. I asked a great many questions, and you answered each and every one of them. I believed every word you said, of course, but most of them were completely made-up, because you'd only been here once before yourself. Do you remember that?"