S H A E O T H
Shaeoth tilted his head, perplexed at the sudden puzzlement expressed by his counterpart. In his prior tirade, he'd seemed so very sure of the Dark One's intentions- even found them derivative enough to dismiss as a reiteration of the very cycle he sought to upend. A turbulent part of him wanted to drown the other in darkness for his presumptions. A more placid part was indifferent to the pettiness of personal pride and any wounds dealt it. Another still sympathised... perhaps even pitied him. The latter two silenced the first, and he stayed his tongue from elaborating upon his 'nothing'... After all, nothing was not an insignificant factor in all this.
He hung there in still silence as Arcas considered the question posed. The feline familiar, glanced from Shaeoth to Arcas and back, then stalked around and behind the former- receding into the ostensible oblivion that surrounded them.
"Hope." He repeated Arcas' answer flatly. That impetuous part of him that had been provoked before rose to the fore.
"You tell me you hope for hope, and I am the one who imparts 'nothing'? Hope is an inevitable thing for the conscious mind. Even those we call hopeless hope. The starving man hopes to be fed. The man who has given up on life hopes for the relief that lies in death..." It seemed very clear that Arcas was hoping for some sort of relief or release as well...
Shaeoth paused at length, again of three minds. One which would have been glad to dismiss Arcas' pointed question summarily, one which would have been cagey and the other candid. It was candour that won out.
"What I seek... what I hope for is a true and a lasting change. One final climax to upend the foundations of this world. If I seem vague in so saying and offer you 'nothing', that is because I truly do not care how that change presents itself as long as it is different from what has been. As long as the wheel is broken. I wish to fundamentally alter the paradigms of Ransera. And then, Arcas, I want to be done. With all of this. Because, whether or not you or the world are willing to be altered, I am changed." There was gravity to that statement that echoed even through the void around them.
"I would leave the affairs of mortals in the hands of those who are still concerned with their fates or amused by their folly, for I am not. If that answer seemed vague or cryptic, it is because my choice for how to proceed hinges upon this encounter. So many others, mortal and divine, are trapped in the orbit of our termless duel. It needs to end. Not to intermiss, but to end. Which means one of us must win, one of us must forfeit, or both of us must reconcile. How would you have it?"