Chapter Text
Sumeru was safe. Its Archon was safe, its people were safe, and everything would fix itself in time.
The Wanderer was ‘healed’.
He has grown. He has changed.
In the aftermath of the burning of Irminsul, and The Doctor along with it, he is unscathed. Unscarred, mentally and physically. He has gained a sense of himself and the world outside of The Doctor’s words, and so he can no longer be affected by them.
Nahida is fine as well. She almost died, and lost the tree from which her very existence originated and her life was supported, but she was completely fine.
There were no visible or invisible effects of Dottore's lingering madness.
All of sumeru was able to recover. The people will not be scarred by the events that have unfolded.
Sumeru will not fall, it will not break. Things started to look up, look better.
Everyone has grown so much.
In the mundane interactions within people's lives, bonds are forged and strengthened. People walk the streets of sumeru and continue their day to day lives. As though the crisis was one that could be completely resolved in a few weeks. One that didn't leave lasting impacts on the nation.
Many things have changed within the nation. The Irminsul burned brightly, cleansing the world of its corruption, leaving only its roots behind. In its place, the secondary information sink of Sumeru had everything transferred to it and it assumed the role of being the sole storer of the memories of the world.
Separate sources of knowledge were merged into one, and the remains left behind simply withered away.
Within the Sanctuary of Surasthana, both Nahida and the Wanderer remained, at least on the surface, just as they were. Both of their growth and healing had occurred prior to the crisis, during the couple of years they spent with the people of Sumeru.
Prior to the recent events, they had time to change their views and gain wisdom. Wisdom and courage that allowed them to face things head on and accept the results.
When the traveler and Paimon visited them in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, they seemed to be in good spirits. They did not pry or question too hard, as their attitudes seemed genuine. The world was okay. Sumeru survived its near destruction.
It seemed as though nothing was lost.
All the progress made, preserved by the will of the people. The accumulation of knowledge and connection had not ceased, no progress was lost. By some miracle.
It is quite hard to believe, and to accept; it feels unsettling that everything was simply over. No lasting consequences, no elaboration on the effects of all that occurred. The people who died, simply casualties of a catastrophe that will supposedly be forgotten. Because this is an event that can be surpassed. Not some grand and near inescapable end to a nation.
And in the aftermath, there were no consequences to people's memories? To their homes, or their lives? Everyone could simply continue on where they left off?
Where does that leave those who cannot forget?
Where does that leave those who can never redeem themselves? Are they left to simply convince themselves of their apathy to it? To convince themselves that because their views have changed, that they’ve been healed?
And that is the weird part. Nothing has truly changed, only— one avatar of evil, one cause of suffering, is permanently gone. Burned away along with the object that once held the world's memories. And yet the memories of that evil, of that pain, remain.
The pain caused by Dottore will never truly disappear. His corruption may have been purged along with the great tree, but the physical effects of his evil remain within people, and the pain of corruption stays in their hearts.
Memories, they never truly leave. The mind may forget, but the body keeps the score, after all.
The remains of the Goddess of Flowers within Collei were removed, and nothing changed for her. Nothing felt different, as she had already been living the normal life she had hoped for. Her growth is something to admire, and yet she cannot be called ‘healed’ simply because she has grown.
Why is it that after everything, the Dendro Archon is left alone in her palace?
Nahida considers herself to be a resilient sapling, able to endure some things on her own, and she can admit when she needs help. Because of this, she is considered wise.
But she is still a child. She took risks, knowing they were her only option, and had to hope they would pay off. She had her life force drained from her. Sacrificed herself to the acquisition of knowledge that was necessary to save Sumeru, before collapsing from it. She was only sustained after that by the help of a dragon who had nothing but scorn for the gods and humanity, but who recognized her kindness.
And all her people “worship” her, but more than that they see her as a friend. Her people look up to her in an almost parasocial way, and admire her like a child star. But she is fragile, and still a child who is growing and learning, and she bears many burdens as the leader of a nation.
Just because she has grown since being freed from her prison, does not mean she has finished growing and healing.
Nahida, as her nation’s Archon, has everyone by her side. And yet, truly, who does she trust to share her burdens?
After everything, it is clear that she can trust her people and rely on them, but in turn, she is trusted and relied upon to know what to do when the time comes. Her judgements, and all the consequences, fall to her to act upon.
Both the Wanderer and the Traveler are there for her at the end of it all. Still, does she admit to herself how she truly feels, enough to share it with them?
Within her palace, Nahida and the Wanderer talk about priority affairs that must be managed in the weeks that follow. They do not delve deeper, because they trust one another as equals to bring up any concerns that the other may have. Their relationship is one of unspoken communication and complete trust, like siblings who know when to pry and when to leave something alone.
Everyone had come together in the weeks prior to help out, and now it was on the two of them to ensure that everything functioned in the aftermath. As everyone celebrated in relief and new hope, they hadn't time to reflect on their “feelings”, despite their insistence that they were both unaffected due to their growth within the past few years.
A few years of freedom, or a few years of hope; either one, when stacked upon hundreds of years of desperation and fear may be enough to change one's views, but they do not heal all. All that heals is time, time with hope.
What the both of them do not admit to themselves, nor to the traveler when he visits with Paimon, is that neither of them were so completely changed or healed that what occurred within Sumeru, within Irminsul, had no effect on them. That's not to say that they aren't resilient, however.
A lot has changed about each of them over their years of living, through old experiences and new. Forming who they are, how they respond to danger and pain and fear— and when they feel as though they have no one else to tell, they know they can rely on one another; Nahida to Wanderer as her right hand, or Wanderer to Nahida as the one who gave him a second chance. They are free to be themselves within the palace, to act like children and bicker and laugh and cry.
They are not trapped within a cage crafted by others or their own mind.
So when they are finally ready to talk, to fully confront the events of the preceding weeks (and months), they do.
“Nahida.”
The Wanderer approached her directly, calling her name so she knew he was there to speak to her. So that she knew he was there, so that he didn't spook her when she has been very clearly overwhelmed by recent events.
She nearly died. That fact had not been stressed enough. She needed to take better care of herself.
“Hm..? Oh, you're back! How did everything go today?” Nahida asked him, because it was much easier to talk about the mundane things that served to form the basis of their relationship and build their trust to confront the obvious emotional consequences they have both experienced.
“Everything was fine. I just wanted to… ugh,” the Wanderer begins, “I didn't know how to bring this up, so I waited a few days for things to settle down. There is still a lot of work left to do.”
“..Is this about..?”
“Your near death and the burning of the corrupted Irminsul? Yes.” The wanderer doesn't beat around the bush. He arrives straight at the point, confronting her about what everyone has been avoiding speaking to her about. Because coming from anyone but him, it would feel too much like judgement. And her people couldn't pass judgement on their God, regardless of whether she was their friend. Because everything she did was necessary and had a good reason.
That didn't mean that she was okay. It's not the same as not needing to be checked on. If she was left to continue to bear the weight on her own, it would continue stacking up until she toppled over. So she accepted that she needed to speak, to let out her inner feelings. She may be able to avoid them with others, but not with him.
“..I figured. We couldn't avoid this conversation for too long, hehe,” Nahida accepts the invitation to chat.
“I trust that you would have brought this up eventually, regardless of my input. However, I'm still bringing this up now. I just want to know that you are okay.”
“Yeah, I just didn't want to push it. A lot of things have changed in such a short period of time! And I felt I needed to catch my breath a little.!” she needed to catch her breath because she had been suffocating under the weight. And whether or not her people noticed, she needed to keep doing what she had to because she cared too much to stop.
“Well, I won't push you to talk right now if you need time. Celestia knows that you've been too gracious with me on more than one occasion about being unwilling to speak on certain subjects.” The wanderer was giving her a way out, but she couldn't accept it. She would be hypocritical, because she was always trying to convince him that it's bad to hide his feelings and would only hurt him to push them away for too long. Growth cannot occur unless she faces what is uncomfortable, after all.
She hurriedly exclaims, “It isn't that I'm not ready, I promise! I just… I didn't want to push you either, with everything..!”
Well, there was her excuse. Not pushing him, when it was she herself who wasn't ready. Does she really deserve to be loved as she is, a lying child and a hypocrite? People thought of her as kind. She couldn't completely see it, herself. She only did what she thought to be right, trusting her own judgement, which she knows is just as fallible as anyone else's. She hopes that no one judges her too harshly for her mistakes, and yet she fears them as she fears many things.
“...Listen, Nahida. I'm fine. I'm not as fragile as I used to be, and I have genuine.. friends, here in Sumeru. I'm not the same person that I was. Simple words cannot hurt me anymore, nor can harmless “reminders” of my past.” He insisted he was okay, but was he really? Was she really okay? Has she been lying to him, to the traveler, to her closest friends? She couldn't discern her own state in all the chaos, and she wasn't ready to face everything.
But she realized she didn't have to.
“Yeah, but…” Nahida was still concerned about him, however. Just as he cared for her, the fact that he brought this up must mean something was bothering him as well. She hopes they can both find comfort in their shared concerns, but for that to happen, she too must admit to herself when she needs a listening ear.
“No buts. If there was something bothering you, you should have brought it up with me right away. You shouldn't be worrying about me, after everything you've gone through the past few weeks. You could have died,” the Wanderer insisted. “...I was really worried about you, you know. I know I might not say it often, but you matter to me and all of Sumeru. I know that you were doing what you had to do, but too much pressure is placed upon you. Don't forget that you too are still growing.”
He could understand the things growing in her heart. The pressure she placed upon herself, the fear, the hiding. The wish not to be left alone.
“..I’m sorry. Not for doing what I had to do, but for worrying you.” She had to tell him that much. She owed it to him to apologize for nearly sacrificing herself, for doing what she would hate for him to have done.
“Ugh. Don't apologise for such things. You are the last person that should be apologizing to anyone. You did everything you could to protect Sumeru and its people, and everyone miraculously managed to come out relatively unscathed. The biggest changes are mostly felt by you.”
“..I was really scared, too,” Nahida softly admits. For the first time since the recent crisis, she lets go of her strong facade, the one she puts on that her people can rely on, can trust. Because if she let herself simply be a child, she may simply be useless.
The wanderer drags her back from her thoughts.
“Understandable, given the circumstances. You can tell me about anything. Just don't expect me to be able to give you any heartfelt consolations, I'm not great at this mushy stuff.” It's just like him to say something like that, which is comforting in itself that their interactions haven't significantly changed.
“You don't give yourself enough credit, Hat Guy! Hehe,” Nahida paused.
“..I didn't know if my plan would work, or what would happen to me or Sumeru. It was really quite fortunate that Nicole was here to transfer my connection from Irminsul!.. Either way, I think…it just came to me in the moment, and I was so scared— but I didn't want Sumeru to disappear, and the fate of the world was on my shoulders. I can't.. I felt powerless, but also powerful. I realized a long time ago that the power I have comes from all the people of Sumeru, and seeing everyone work together again to help me… This time, I didn't feel so useless,” Nahida smiled. “This time, I..”
“... You've always been an incredible person, Nahida. You've never needed to prove yourself.”
And wasn't that just a statement? It would be one thing, if it were untrue. But even if it cannot objectively be proven false, she still struggles to bring herself to accept that she has done enough. It is a concept that is difficult to believe in, not because it is foreign, but because she still cannot comprehend how it could apply to herself.
She just wants to be a friend to all her people, that is all. She doesn't have the power to be anything more, and she doesn't feel the need to. That doesn't make her incredible in any way, it only makes her..well, she doesn't really know.
“..I didn't feel like I needed to prove myself, I only felt that, if I didn't do everything I could for our shared home, there was no hope left. I couldn't let the Doctor succeed in causing such vast amounts of suffering. His experiments needed to come to an end… and the Irminsul wasn't the biggest price that could have been paid.”
“...that's true, considering everything that could have been lost.. Sumeru is incredibly lucky to have people with such strong wills. From what I've seen.. everyone has worked so hard to ensure that things could turn out the way they did.”
“Mhm! I'm so proud of how far my people have come!” Nahida brightened again. “..You too, you know. You've definitely come a long way. Here you are, confronting me about feelings, hehe!”
“Still…” Nahida continued, “I'm scared that this is not over. I'm scared that this may just be a dream, and I'm still unconscious and powerless, and I will never wake up because it's all over— and Sumeru is really gone—”
The weight of her fears increases again, and their conversation returns to its previous serious tone.
Tears begin to fall from her tiny face.
The wanderer takes a step forward.. and wraps her in an embrace.
“...I..I can honestly say that I've felt the same since waking in Sumeru when you decided not to get rid of me. Have you felt the same since first being freed from your cage?” the wanderer inquired understandingly, “..ever since regaining my memories, so many things have gone well for the first time in my five hundred years. I have often doubted whether any of it was actually real, just as I'm sure you have. But this… I'm sure of one thing. It doesn't matter whether or not any of this is real. The only thing that truly matters is that neither of us are truly alone anymore.”
“mhm… I still worry though. I don't think the fear will ever fully disappear. It only grows smaller in comparison to me as I grow bigger! I just think… I hope that this is real, right now. I choose to believe that this is real. And I hope… that we can continue protecting our shared home, well into the future.”
“For you, I hope so too. You deserve the world.”
This conversation was not over, but they had communicated what they had needed to at this time.
And for now, that was enough.