Noctisardor Bypass [m] can you shatter my mirror to see outside myself

mahler wanted to demand how she could know the promise of rivenwood when she had not been here to build it. it was in the creation of this lastingly peaceful place that he had discovered he would never enjoy its calm. moses at the edge of the promised land, watching his people move into the greensward and himself forbidden to enter.
yet, peace in this, too; the knowledge that mahler could still provide this for others until the end of his days, and the satisfaction in that which marred the jut of pain, blunted it. humility in service, as should have been his way since the end of stigmata and the beginning of his own chapters.
mahler had not meant to humiliate her further; his charcoal ears cupped back, and he turned away from her at once. this time, he felt she would not follow, and took himself away and off. a half dozen steps and he wished to look back, saltpillar against her own bitterness.
but the gargoyle did not, only felt the grip of laurel leave his flesh the further away he moved, until what remained was the stark stained-glass of her hurt, hardening stare.
she was not wrong, not truly. it was only that peace and calm came saddled with a set of demands he could not fulfill, and in the resonant rightness of her voice, he could find no absolution for himself.