His voice was rough and pained, a bit reminiscent of someone rubbing two pieces of dry, brittle paper together. The moment after these short two sentences had left his mouth, he already began having a violent coughing fit. Who knows how long it had been since he had last spoken?
But despite how 'harmless' he appeared, Theodore didn't dare to make a single suspicious move. It wasn't that this being wasn't dangerous–no, the old man simply had no need to keep up a strong front when facing someone who amounted to far less than an ant.
'Still... he appears to know Faavi well, and to respect her. That's roughly what I expected–and it also means that he is likely not an enemy.'
Right as a hint of confidence returned to his heart, he suddenly noticed something out of the corner of his eye: All those who had come with him stood just outside of the spire, frozen in time. And from their facial expressions, it was clear that none of them had detected any strange happenings whatsoever–not even Ninna.
But although this caused him to grow more on edge again, it also weirdly enough served to calm him down. In front of this old acquaintance of at least Faavi, and possibly even John, they were all mere fish on the chopping block. The fact that they hadn't been taken out was already a sign that he shouldn't continue to be worried overly much.
Feeling the senior's gaze wander across him as well as the others, every single aspect of himself was laid bare. Whether it be his body or his soul, none could keep any secrets in front of this being whatsoever–and yet, as he endured the unpleasant sensation, he noticed that the old man completely ignored the seals within his soul.
Why was this? Was it that he simply couldn't perceive them? Or was he not interested in them at all? Or perhaps... was he in the know about what was locked behind them, and chose to disregard them on purpose as a result? For now, he could not tell.
"Not bad, not bad. You're not in optimal condition, but it could also be much worse."
Nodding to himself, he gave Theodore an honest assessment. He was clearly aware that his behaviour and mere presence caused the young Winter Saint to practically be on pins and needles, but he chose not to elaborate or explain anything yet. It was honestly quite frustrating! ... and exactly how many of these elders loved to operate.
'Faavi, who is this person?'
Earlier, the moment after the old man had addressed her, her usually constant chatter had died down, and she had begun to ponder deeply. Snapped out of her attempt at grasping some of her indistinct recollections by Theodore's question, she hesitantly responded.
'I'm still not entirely sure, but I think I called him 'Uncle Weaver' in the past? But when did we know each other? Why did I call him that? Is Weaver his name, or a job title?? Theo, Theo! Do you know? Do you remember him at all?'
Immediately flooded again by her non-stop inquiries, a wry smile almost stole itself on his lips. If he hadn't been in a potentially precarious position right now, then he certainly would have allowed it to make its way there.
'Weaver, huh? That name doesn't ring any bells for me. But now that you mention it...'
Squinting slightly, he listened deeper inside and was both relieved and shaken to find that he appeared to feel an incredibly indistinct morsel of implicit trust for the elderly man. Usually, he would have chosen to end his life then and there, convinced that he must have been influenced by some sort of mental or emotional manipulation method. But considering that this guy was connected to Faavi... he didn't pull the figurative trigger. Yet.
'Whatever this sensation is, I don't know. But I'm certain that I never had as strong of a connection with him as I did with you.'
His words, albeit amounting to nothing more than an objective analysis, made the adorable Armament Spirit very happy, almost to the point that she managed to distract him from the current moment in time.
"There is no need to be afraid. I mean you no harm."
With his voice recovering back to normal the more that he spoke, 'Weaver' gave him a disarming smile and a kindly nod. It was as if he was but an elderly mortal placating a child–patient, measured and steady, as well as mixed with an air of having done this many times before.
"This goes for you too, little eavesdropper."
All of a sudden, he turned his head, staring straight at Sarasvain, who had been frozen completely, just like the entirety of the surroundings. The Undying President let out an embarrassed cough and straightened his posture, facing the senior's amused gaze with a righteous expression, despite having just been caught in an act of deception.
'What!? He was actually fine all along? That was some astonishing acting! He has really mastered that deadpan, unimpressed look, huh?'
His eyes widening, Theodore stared at Sarasvain for a moment, before focusing back on 'Weaver'. He still didn't dare to act without care, and proceeded to await the senior's next actions.
"You've been around here quite a few times, but this is the first time we've met. I didn't expect you to be present during this encounter, yet this surprise is not an unwelcome one. Your existence adds another variable into the big picture. Hmm... but I've got to say... youngster, aren't you a bit lacking in motivation?"
Initially intending to praise him, 'Weaver' soon couldn't help but close his eyes and sigh in regret. It was like a grandparent learning that their grandson had been skipping school for the majority of the year–there was just so much wasted potential!
"Erm... Sir. I mean no disrespect, but my circumstances kind of shackled me here..."
Feeling a need to stand up for himself, Sarasvain bravely spoke up–although it sounded like he didn't fully believe what he was saying either.
"..."
Opening his eyes once again, 'Weaver' silently stared at the unrepentant lad for a while, until the Undying President looked away in shame. Then, he sighed again.
"You could have easily chosen to start over somewhere else, but you were too soft at heart. I'm not going to coddle you, though–you'll have to grow past that eventually, else it will spell your downfall. No matter who you are, or how high your status is, if you haven't hardened your heart sufficiently enough, there will only be one outcome for you: Inevitable doom and failure. Remember this... both of you!"
Feeling a meaningful gaze land upon him as well, Theodore gave a slow but grave nod. Although 'Weaver' appeared to just be rambling, he couldn't shake the sensation that all of this had primarily been spoken for him to hear. And that Sarasvain being here too simply served as a good excuse to hide the message that 'Weaver' aimed to convey in plain sight.
"We will, we will!"
Answering for the both of them without hesitation, Sarasvain blissfully ignored the annoyed stare that Theodore sent his way as a result, focusing fully on 'Weaver' instead. Even though he presented himself in a carefree, rash manner right now, internally, every nerve of his was stretched taut! Immediately, he had recognized that this elderly sir surpassed even the Brocade Guard that he had met long ago–so he truly couldn't afford to mess up here. Instead, he would let the tried and tested protagonist behaviour routine kick in at full force.
"... boy, don't think I don't know what you're doing. But, well... never mind. Two paths now lie before you. Let your life in this prison come to a close and begin anew, or follow this person over here out of the cage. I won't make that choice for you. Think it over for the next few centuries while you still have the opportunity. Now, away with you. I'd like to have a private chat with your new acquaintance."
As 'Weaver' waved his hand dismissively, Sarasvain simply disappeared from the spot, as if he had never even existed. However, there was most likely no need to worry, as he should have simply either been transported somewhere else, or been locked up temporarily until their conversation was over.
"... like I said before, you really don't have to be worried. I'm not here to harm you–it's actually quite the opposite."
Being alone again, 'Weaver' once more proceeded to attempt to pacify him, and he somewhat succeeded. At least for now, Theodore chose to go with the flow–especially because Faavi was still talking his ear off, constantly requesting for him to ask the old man one particular question–and it was one that he also wanted to hear the answer to.
"I'll take your word for it, then. Excuse me, but Faavi wants to know–and I quote–if you are really the 'Uncle Weaver' that she recalls. And also who 'Uncle Weaver' is to begin with."
A gentle expression bloomed on the senior's face and his eyes clouded over momentarily. Lost in thought, he nodded slowly.
"Uncle Weaver, huh? I haven't heard that term of address in... far, far too long. Yes, that is indeed what Lady Faavi once called me. And as for who I am..."
Locking eyes with him, Weaver's gaze cleared up again.
"... just think of me as a friend, or a helper."
A bit flabbergasted, Theodore waited for him to continue, but he didn't make any attempt to do so. Feeling an inexplicable desire to smack the old man's head, he hastily suppressed it, instead remaining composed. But judging from the slightly raised corners of Weaver's mouth, it was obvious that he had noticed the minute shift in his emotional state.
"That's it? You won't give me anything more to work with than that? I don't mean to sound ungrateful or unreasonable, but isn't that... almost like saying nothing?"
Sporting a smug smirk, Weaver simply shrugged.
"Believe you me, If I could tell you more, I would. But you should be well aware of how dangerous knowledge, as well as obtaining it prematurely, can be. You'll figure out more. Eventually."
It was hard to tell whether or not he was speaking the truth about being unable to elaborate further, but one thing was for certain: Everything else that he had said was very much indisputable. And that was exactly why Theodore had to swallow his irritation and accept this explanation.
'I swear, all of these fossils like to act the same way!'
Grinning mirthfully in response to his thoughts, Weaver gave him a pointed look.
"The pot calling the kettle black, eh? You've certainly become more shameless."
Following this up with another shrug, he continued.
"Oh well, let's not dwell on it. You're Theodore Winter now, after all. Speaking of..."
Glancing at Ninna and Xie Mei, Weaver couldn't help but smile in approval.
"... you've chosen to follow the same path as Theoderick, I see. Good choice! I can't really tell you why, but understand that you're definitely on the right track."
'Why does it kind of sound like he knows my father personally? ... but on second thought, which truly mighty figure doesn't have at least a basic understanding of him? So perhaps he has simply heard a lot about him instead.'
Not letting Theodore talk or respond at all, Weaver once more focused his attention on the unassuming Storage Ring–or rather, on Faavi.
"Seeing that you've returned to his hands, all of our sacrifices were worth it, Lady Faavi! Once you remember, don't mourn what was lost, but think about the bright future ahead of you!"
His kind smile even more radiant than before, Weaver's tone gave Theodore pause. For a while now, he had begun to suspect something. And now that he finally had another chance, he voiced his doubts.
"Why are you in such a hurry?"
His expression turning a tad more solemn again, Weaver was straightforward for once.
"Your guess is spot on. It's because I don't have much time. I'll have to excuse myself very soon, therefore I'd best say everything that I can and want to, else I'd surely come to regret it."
A wistful look flickered in his eyes, along with pain and hurt that he made no effort to conceal. Like all people his age, he clearly had far too many stories to tell, with at least one of them obviously being connected to the John of eons past. It was just a pity that he was being too tight-lipped about them now.