Inigo has no idea what's going on here. All he can do is trust on Tidus, right there by his side, their hearts linked as they always have been through their bond, through their higglepals, and trust on Esteban too - somewhere out there. Inigo can't feel him, not quite yet, but even he can feel like there's some sort of faint pull from somewhere up ahead. He can't quite put the feeling into words, but there's something pulling them in another direction, away from the world that has already melted away around them, forcing them into some inbetween space. Something drawing in him, something familiar and warm, just like the presence at his side.
He can only hope that it leads him back to the train. That this works. That he'll be able to see Esteban again, and greet Tidus more properly once more, and--
Even though Inigo is drawn forwards by that desire, there's another force that suddenly starts. At first it's quiet, but then it swells, enough so that even Tidus and Esteban will see and hear all of it across their shared bond in this moment. Bits and pieces of memories, images and voices, none of them quite making sense out of context, and yet..
you're running through a field of flowers - an embrace from a woman with long, flowing, seemingly endless pink hair - "You are my darling boy." - a sullen dark-haired boy sits in front of you, passively accepting the flowers being placed in his hair - a dark dragon spreads its wings, terrifying and enormous, blotting out the sky - the tremble of a terrified heartbeat - "So ends the human race." - rubble everywhere, the pieces of a fallen castle - piercing red eyes - the fatigue of battle soaked right into your bones - a horde of monsters, rapidly approaching - a pile of dead people, a torch in your hand..
But there's one image that's stronger than anything. Something that threatens to take a hold of Inigo and Tidus, drawing them backwards. Something that tries to even pull Esteban in. A vision of a face so much like Inigo's, but with slight differences. The hair longer, the odd eye on the other side. Flards of an old conversation. The first female voice belonging to that face, foreign to the other two's ears, but the second one obviously belonging to Inigo himself, despite the boy in the void not speaking up at all.
"If you are, in fact, among Falchion's chosen, that is knowledge we need. There may come a time when it proves necessary for you to take it up."
"What, like if you're busy?"
"Like if I'm dead, Inigo. Having someone able to wield it even after I'm gone would be a considerable asset. We must use any means at our disposal to ensure the future is saved."
"NO! I'm not doing it! Don't make me... Don't make me practice for your death, Lucina!"
"... I understand how you feel, but we must be practical about this. We cannot afford to lose this war. No matter what happens or who dies."
"You think I don't know that?! But it's not... It's just not that simple for me, all right? What, are you planning to leave me, too? First my parents and now you?"
The memory twists, shifts in the void, turns into a siren call--
"Aren't you leaving me now, Inigo? Why are you going? Why are you abandoning your duty?"
this is so long, sob, i'm sorry
He can only hope that it leads him back to the train. That this works. That he'll be able to see Esteban again, and greet Tidus more properly once more, and--
Even though Inigo is drawn forwards by that desire, there's another force that suddenly starts. At first it's quiet, but then it swells, enough so that even Tidus and Esteban will see and hear all of it across their shared bond in this moment. Bits and pieces of memories, images and voices, none of them quite making sense out of context, and yet..
you're running through a field of flowers - an embrace from a woman with long, flowing, seemingly endless pink hair - "You are my darling boy." - a sullen dark-haired boy sits in front of you, passively accepting the flowers being placed in his hair - a dark dragon spreads its wings, terrifying and enormous, blotting out the sky - the tremble of a terrified heartbeat - "So ends the human race." - rubble everywhere, the pieces of a fallen castle - piercing red eyes - the fatigue of battle soaked right into your bones - a horde of monsters, rapidly approaching - a pile of dead people, a torch in your hand..
But there's one image that's stronger than anything. Something that threatens to take a hold of Inigo and Tidus, drawing them backwards. Something that tries to even pull Esteban in. A vision of a face so much like Inigo's, but with slight differences. The hair longer, the odd eye on the other side. Flards of an old conversation. The first female voice belonging to that face, foreign to the other two's ears, but the second one obviously belonging to Inigo himself, despite the boy in the void not speaking up at all.
"If you are, in fact, among Falchion's chosen, that is knowledge we need. There may come a time when it proves necessary for you to take it up."
"What, like if you're busy?"
"Like if I'm dead, Inigo. Having someone able to wield it even after I'm gone would be a considerable asset. We must use any means at our disposal to ensure the future is saved."
"NO! I'm not doing it! Don't make me... Don't make me practice for your death, Lucina!"
"... I understand how you feel, but we must be practical about this. We cannot afford to lose this war. No matter what happens or who dies."
"You think I don't know that?! But it's not... It's just not that simple for me, all right? What, are you planning to leave me, too? First my parents and now you?"
The memory twists, shifts in the void, turns into a siren call--
"Aren't you leaving me now, Inigo? Why are you going? Why are you abandoning your duty?"