It was something he'd heard a thousand times before, but he supposed it sounded different now. Because the things that Shantar was saying to Gershul were the same things that he'd often said to Skandra. In firelight, just like this one, where it was only the two of them and it seemed strange not to talk. Only now Skandra began to see what Shantar had been saying all along. Digging your own grave. A swell of hatred rose up in his throat, for himself and for his father, but Aeotha's hand on his arm may as well have been irons. He couldn't move. And wouldn't move. Because he wanted to see what Gershul had to say for himself.
He wanted to see if Gershul would say for himself the same things that Skandra always had.
"I told you I wanted to end this world," Gershul did not answer him directly.
"Do you think you could do such a thing?" Shantar seemed amused by the idea, but curious all the same. "You're as intelligent as a son of mine could ever hope to be, Gershul, but you didn't come to be this way through hard work on your part alone. Some of it has only to do with circumstances. Luck, as your son calls it."
"He could have been brilliant," said the younger Tyullis sharing the fire. "You can see it in him, I suppose? That's why you keep him around, isn't it? He'll never be as bright as you and I, Shantar."
"Maybe so," said the older Tyullis sharing the fire, his eyes moving to the toes of his boots. "Maybe so, Gershul. But would that be such an awful thing? I thought I was so smart. I thought that I knew how to raise a child who would never consider killing the world and everything that lived on it. Hell, it never occurred to me that I ought to try and stop that impulse. It never occurred to me that it would even come into being. Perhaps Skandra isn't a genius, like you, but he's a good man in his heart. I would settle for that. Your wisdom brings nothing but terror, to you and to others. Why would I want that for Skandra?"
Skandra did not think it was so simple with Shantar or Gershul - it never was - but now he wanted to charge out and put a knife in both of their throats. Genius? All those damn names they kept throwing around as though they meant something, all the titles they wanted people to believe in, and they still couldn't see what was right in front of them. This wasn't a story about a father and son putting aside their differences through intellectual debate. Gershul was leaning closer to Shantar now, pipe between his lips, and there was a smile in his voice as he spoke again.
"I never had any use for the boy," Gershul remarked casually. "But if he means that much to you-"
"You said," and Shantar lifted his head now. "That you were planning on destroying this world."
"Not this one," Gershul replied, too quickly. "Adusta. But that's the point of this excursion, Shantar. You forge a path from one world to another. Oh, I haven't quite nailed down precisely which world I wish to go to. But once I have? There is a world out there, accessible through these gateways - much like the one I've created - and in that world, I will find Yggdrasil."
"The World Tree?" Shantar laughed out loud. "It isn't real, boy! Anyone who thinks otherwise is as mad as those priests you despise."
Gershul was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke again, it was near-vicious. "Olas has seen it, Shantar."