2022-05-23: Ashes of Hope
- Log: Ashes of Hope
- Cast: Dean Stark, Xander Lovell, Riley Arwell, Moor Gault
- Where: Celesti Wastelands
- Date: May 23, 2022
- Summary: With Dean's help, the cursed Fangs of Valmar once again risk hoping for an alternative means of survival beyond sacrifice and murder.
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
It's a quiet night out in the wilderness. Though the wastes of Celesti are a dangerous place to camp out, what with all the Reavers and restless dead, Dean's sent notes to his friends and compatriots letting them know where he's going--and he's not going here alone.
After all, he's heard back from the Fangs about calling on Moor Gault for answers on if the Guardian of Fire's purification will work on them. Dean made that offer with the caveat that he didn't know if it would work--the Guardians are a significantly different pantheon than Valmar, and who knows if they can actually do anything about his curses--and research (which is not his strong suit anyway) hasn't turned up anything one way or another. So the natural next step is to talk to the source: Moor Gault himself. With Xander and Riley having agreed to go along with this, it's just a matter of actually doing it.
Thus the wilderness. Dean has, with their help, build a massive bonfire in the wastelands, one that lights up the night and eclipses the stars. The moon's only a sliver, so it's no competition, either. With no sun present, it's the fire's time to shine. Literally!
"So, I haven't actually done this before," he confides in his friends as he throws in the last log. The controlled blaze greedily gobbles it up. "But I figure, I'm one of his Seers, and Moor Gault's basically just a big fire, so if I ask a big enough fire for help, he'll probably show up! And just in case--" He holds up an old stone tablet of Moor Gault, acquired long before he ever became a Seer. "Tada! It's sure to get his attention!"
He beams at Xander and Riley, regardless of how they take this. At least his expression turns grave soon. "I really hope this'll work. I know how much you guys have been suffering," he says quietly. He knows how much their *victims* have been suffering, though he doesn't say that out loud. That's part of their suffering, too. Dean turns towards the fire. "Ready?"
Ready or not, though, he prays with all his considerable might.
<Pose Tracker> Xander Lovell has posed.
As far as Xander's concerned, Dean has come alone: he's come out here to meet a pair of known serial killers without some most trustworthy to have his back. Something-something don't correct your enemies when they're making a mistake, but Dean isn't exactly an enemy and what is wrong with him, actually.
(Nobody point out that by virtue of Xander being worried about this, Dean isn't wrong in trusting Xander not to pull anything.) (But it's Xander who doesn't trust himself.)
Any eye bulges of flabbergasted frustration can easily be passed off as a reaction to Xander's current round of the curse -- an infestation in his spine. The mantle obscures most of it, but thorns tear through his shirt, visible in the moments his mantle shifts. Which it well might while building a fire, a task Xander takes to with only minimum grumbling... but not so minimal wincing, much as he's trying to mask it. His jaw is set and tight and his breathing more labored than it ought to be.
Anyone who asks him if he's okay or needs a break or if he should sit out gets a growl and a, "/I'm fine," as per Xander tradition.
Once it's over, he presses his thumb into the meat of his other hand and just tries to breath, watching the flames. It's... warm, at least.
"You figure." Xander sighs, too exhausted to pretend to be angry. "Well, I certainly don't know how Guardians work." He's put in more effort for greater disappointments... and he hasn't been disappointed quite yet.
He refuses to look at Dean while being given sympathy. "...Ready as we'll ever be."
<Pose Tracker> Riley Arwell has posed.
Riley, meanwhile, is heartwarmed to be foolishly(?) trusted so, and is all too happy to help build the fire like a loyal shovel friend with a common mission! He learns quickly that Xander is FINE, and instead of continuing to ask him, instead occasionally starts stealing logs out of his hands pretending to think Xander was trying to hand them off to him.
In such a manner, the fire is built, and Dean expresses uncertainty that Moor Gault will answer the call and his heartfelt hopes that it will work if he does.
"Thank you for trying this," he says. "It makes me happy that you want to help us." He smiles, but his hand seeks Xander's and grips on tightly.
This won't be like the last time. It won't. And if it is... they'll run away again.
He swallows. "...Ready."
<Pose Tracker> Leon Albus has posed.
Dean may have never done this before...
...but he proves more than adept. At first, it might seem like nothing; the large bonfire emits smoke and drifting embers, which wafts up. Those intensify, though -- first like a particularly thick fire, and then moreso. It is said that the Guardians have difficulty manifesting on Filgaia for long, especially without the aid of a medium, a shaman, or preferably both. That fits this moment.
Moor Gault is more of the impression of a great, feathered bird of flame -- smoke and ember, roiling off the fire, and assuming the shape of the phoenix-like Guardian. He beats his wings, but no force comes from then. Two glowing, golden eyes appear in the smoke-and-ember body, and the head turns.
He looks down at Dean; Xander and Riley are noticed, but not addressed. Guardians have a way of preferring their servants -- and now, those include the Seers. A new relationship, but important. If... unclear.
When he speaks, Moor Gault's voice is loud yet raspy. "You have summoned me and I have come, Seer. What do you seek?"
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
It's true that maybe chilling with a couple of serial killers solo is not the wisest idea, but Dean trusts that serial killing is something Xander and Riley do to survive, not because they think it's an awesome and fun thing to do, and that if someone is trying to help them make that a thing they *don't* have to do to survive, they're not going to lay on him. There's a logic to his lunacy! But there is certainly an element (ha) of simply having faith in people he considers friends.
Dean also does ask Xander if it's okay a few times. He gets the point, har har, after he growls that he's fine a few times more. ...Dean really hopes this works. He hates seeing Xander bearing up under so much pain.
He smiles back at Riley and gives him a firm nod. "Of course! If this is something that *can* get settled peacefully, then it should!" He turns a brief, worried look at Xander, but that smile keeps on shining, especially when Riley seeks Xander's hand. Awwww. They're such a cute couple! ...Dean REALLY hopes this works.
They both say they're ready. Dean prays, lips moving as he grips the stone medium. Maybe it would be better or easier if he had a gold or silver one, but hopefully it'll be enough in conjunction with his status as Seer. And, to his surprise and delight, it's not too long before the flames intensify and form the impression of a great fiery bird. Dean stares up at him in awe.
"Wow! That was easier than I thought it'd be!" he declares, somewhat thoughtlessly. "Hi, Moor Gault! It's nice seeing you!" He sobers. "There's something really important I have to ask you. It's about my friends here--this is Riley, and that's Xander," he says, pointing to each in turn. "They've been cursed by Valmar. I've been trying to find a way to help them, but everything I've found says to get rid of the curse, they'd need to die."
He looks back at Moor Gault, expression serious. "I know I get my purification powers from you. Do you... well... *could* you--or me, I guess, through you?--get rid of that curse for them? It's fine if it's hard! I'm ready to do what I have to!"
<Pose Tracker> Xander Lovell has posed.
Dean's unwavering optimism and faith in them stings, and Xander leaves the gratitude to Riley. The world's not a kind place -- it's made people like the Fangs -- and Dean hasn't been broken by that yet. What would it take? Hopefully, no one has to find out. Or maybe some people are strong enough nothing ever breaks them. Maybe Dean is one of them. Xander hates that he's testing it.
He glances back at Riley, and, worryingly, the harsh edges of his expression have all fallen away. He squeezes back on Riley's hand. Maybe he should say something, but he can't find the words.
It can't be like last time.
But the flames intensify and come to life, stealing all of Xander's attention.
...Things Xander knows he should definitely not do: think the Guardians of Filgaia, in all their power and significance, are cute. So he's not thinking it. Perhaps such ideas -- ideas that he does not have -- are because this vision is more of a suggestion, with the rest of the details able to be filled in by Xander's imagination. It doesn't matter, because he is absolutely not thinking about it, nor any temptation there would be to pat such a creature on the head if he were not made of flame.
Not at all.
He swallows, beholding Moor Gault, and decides letting Dean do the talking is wiser than opening his own mouth. Once introduced, he looks at Moor Gault in silence with a sense of reflexive defiance starting to bubble up.
It won't be like last time. Please don't be like last time.
<Pose Tracker> Riley Arwell has posed.
Riley is almost mystified enough to forget his fears as the grand, winged spectre of an actual Guardian appears before them -- and Dean in quick succession calls the Fangs 'friends' and greets Moor Gault like yet another casual buddy.
He does not quite dare to interrupt, but is mouthing various things at Xander as he boggles, including 'we're his friends!!' and 'he just said 'hi' to a Guardian!'
Quickly, though, his attention snaps back to the matter at hand, and his heart begins to hammer again, because Dean has put his question to the Guardian and all of their hopes may be about to be realized or collapse into nothing.
<Pose Tracker> Leon Albus has posed.
"I sensed a taint upon them... Valmar. Yes, I know of its presence," Moor Gault answers. His voice is a wispy rumble, as he speaks, and then he looks the Fangs over.
His gaze is hard and penetrating. It is also alien -- an unfortunate truth of the Guardians is that they are alien creatures, that understand what it is to be human only poorly, if at all. They are elemental forces as much as a conscious being. This is exemplified in the way that his eyes are burning, golden flickers of light rather than eyes. There is no pupil, no iris; just a golden light, bearing down on the both of them.
"Perhaps," Moor Gault says. "But the corruption of Valmar is... something different than the forces I am composed of. It is something newer than I. Can I burn its influence away, even still? Yes."
He doesn't say the 'but.' It is there. They can feel it there.
"It will burn away all they are, as well," Moor Gault concludes. "In my interactions with humans recently--" He means the last couple of millennia, give or take a few, but perhaps he can be forgiven. "--I am made to understand this would not be to your liking."
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
At least Moor Gault doesn't seem to take any offense to Dean's casual greeting. Dean doesn't think anything of it either, clearly; he doesn't even notice Riley boggling over it and mouthing variations of 'wtf!!' to Xander. The two of them have fallen silent, and so has he once the Guardian speaks.
At first, it seems hopeful. If Moor Gault knows about Valmar, then that means he might have a solution for that most nefarious problem. Something newer, something different. He lights up when he says he *can* burn it away--but there's a weight to that yes that makes him hold his tongue.
A good thing. Moor Gault basically says that, to purify them, he'd have to kill them.
"...oh," Dean says quietly. He doesn't need to say that, no, it would indeed not be to their liking.
But he's not the type to just give up. So after a moment of grappling with this, he adds, "What about Schturdark? Or Fengalon, or any of the other Guardians? Or if it'd be the same for any of the Guardians, d'you know of anything or anyone else who *could* get rid of the curse without hurting them? Or d'you think if we combined forces with something else, maybe *that* would do it? Any hunches you've got, anything you know, anything at all!"
<Pose Tracker> Xander Lovell has posed.
Xander does not shoot Riley a look so much as he snaps his gaze onto him, startled, like he's been caught doing something wrong. He sighs as Riley's attempts to communicate, because even if Xander cannot quite read Riley's lips, he knows exactly what Riley is saying.
But, of course, Moor Gault. Even under that intense judgment and that fiery, piercing gaze, there's comfort in the alien demeanor. Matter-of-fact. Straightforward. Without expectation. Woefully, the Guardian of Fire cannot give the true comfort Xander hopes for. He feels that 'but' in the air, grip on Riley's hand tightening.
It will burn away all they are.
Xander jerks Riley's hand back, moving between him and the Guardian -- as if that would mean anything -- his gaze harder to mask his fear. His entire body tenses, coiled up like a spring, agitated by not knowing exactly where and how he'll need to launch himself.
Dean's already begun bargaining, and Xander shoots him a surprised look before relenting to give Moor Gault a more pleading one. He fights to find his voice, quiet as it is, almost inaudible against the crackle of flame, but his position unrelenting.
"...Please."
<Pose Tracker> Riley Arwell has posed.
Moor Gault gives his answer, cold and impersonal. Yes, they can be purified. ...But once again, it would cost their lives.
Riley feels like he's sinking, and struggles to keep himself moored and not get lost in reliving the emotions from last time -- those emotions led to too much destruction before.
This was why he wasn't supposed to hope. And even worse, he got Xander hoping, and now they've both got to go back to how it was, the same dread of the future, the same painful, impossible bind.
He looks up to find that Xander has not broken anyone's nose and run away with him, but instead both Dean and Xander are pleading with Moor Gault for a better solution. He boggles at that, too, grateful for it, but feeling distant from it.
<Pose Tracker> Leon Albus has posed.
"Another Guardian would face similar difficulties to I," Moor Gault says. He turns his head -- and those burning golden eyes -- towards Xander. He does not emote much (but he is, to be fair, a bird that exists in the outline of smoke and embers). He considers for a moment. "I do not have a simple answer to your entreaty. I am something... born of the primal powers of Filgaia."
He waits a moment more; he may be thinking. "Valmar may appear similar, and yet it is different. I am ill-suited to undoing it -- and I would need a means of channeling my power. Not unlike the Oracles, who I contract with," he explains. "But different, as well. A power suited to countering Valmar, on some level."
He looks between Riley and Xander for a moment.
"I know not of such a thing. And I am uncertain, even then, of what may happen," the Guardian says. "Valmar is a creation of humanity, not of the Guardians or a similar force. I cannot know what our power might do."
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
Dean doesn't know how devastated Xander and Riley were the last time they got their hopes up and had them dashed. He has a general idea, but he doesn't *know*. All the same, he's prepared to keep pressing, keep pushing, keep pestering until they figure *something* out. He trusts Moor Gault, but he knows that he's not actually human and might not ("might not") have the same perspective as they do.
For now, Xander adds in a quiet 'please' while Riley simply continues to keep his mouth shut. Dean shoots them both an encouraging smile, but there's a flicker of worry in his blue eyes, too. When he looks back at Moor Gault, he nods at his answer. If he doesn't have a simple answer, then-- "A complicated answer is fine, too," he says.
He might not *understand* it, but that's what he's got smart friends around for. Maybe he should've brought them along, it dawns on him. Oh well, it'll be fine.
"So we need a power that'd be, like... a better elemental match for Valmar, sort of," he concludes. "What about... what was it... Granas? That's the god that's opposite him, right?" He pauses as something else tickles his brain, then suddenly takes root. ".......wait, what d'you mean, Valmar's a creation of humanity?? You mean, people like us MADE him? How does that even work?"
<Pose Tracker> Xander Lovell has posed.
Xander, given a taste of hope, has gone all in. Tenacious and clingy, grabbing onto the idea and refusing to let go while the pain webbed through his nerves serves a constant reminder of his failures. Moor Gault says what it costs, like the priests did, and Xander begs and demands and he hopes. He doesn't know how to stop, despite all his claims to Riley that they shouldn't. Not really.
At least Moor Gault doesn't pretend to know what the right answer is.
All of his growing, gnawing despair at the reality he's being given -- again -- doesn't know where to go, so it goes where it usually does: himself. Xander dared hope and brought Riley into this crushing feeling again. Why did he do that? Why did he think it'd be different? He's supposed to know better...!
"Granas isn't going to be any help," Xander growls. "And certainly none of his followers."
He doesn't seem terribly surprised at the implication Valmar was made by humans, though, shrugging at Dean. "So I've heard." He barks a laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Maybe if becoming a god is so achievable, I should do it myself!"
If all it takes is inventing hell for someone, Xander's in the mood to do it right now. But he glances back at Riley, sensing him wilting. "Riley," he says, quiet, "Hey..." Guilt starts to sap away at the energy he needs for his other emotions.
<Pose Tracker> Riley Arwell has posed.
Made by humans... it kind of corroborates what they learned investigating with Neriah, as little sense as it makes. Shouldn't a god made by humans be easier to scrub out of their souls? Guess it's easier to make a poison than a cure.
Moor Gault speculates that something opposite Valmar's power might be able to pull off the miracle they seek... but the answer can not be Granas, Xander confirms that much. They tried Granas first. It wasn't pretty. Riley learned what losing hope is like. Xander lost an eye. And nearly everything else.
In all that has transpired, he hasn't let go of Xander.
Xander calls for him, and he senses he needs to push himself to come back into he conversation.
"We already tried Granas," he manages, quietly. "Could there be anything else?"
How do you do better than a diametrically opposed god? It seems the religion has mostly been subsumed as a cover for worship of Valmar anyway, if it ever had more to offer than sacrifice.
<Pose Tracker> Leon Albus has posed.
"Of a similar kind, in whatever fashion. This Granas... perhaps. If they have tried, it may not work, though. I cannot be certain, in any case."
Moor Gault's body flickers for a moment. The summoning is powerful, but it takes him effort to maintain even that form of smoke and embers for the time needed to have a true conversation. "Valmar was made by humans... at some time in the past. Recent, by my reckoning. It is difficult to understand the years and months of this world, for me. But know this: humans have often sought to make gods. They have tapped into great power, too. Not our power... but great power, still."
He hesitates. "I cannot say how it 'works,' for I do not know. But you see, in them, the danger and price of such meddling. We do not pass our judgments lightly."
His eyes snap towards Xander, then. "Do not make such claims. You see the poison it creates -- poison that kills Filgaia. Poison that hurts its children, including you. You would seek become such a thing? Foolishness! And it is ever humanity's curse!"
It takes Moor Gault a moment to calm. Then, he looks back towards Riley. He stares at him for a moment. "You might look for artifacts from that time. I... do not know how Valmar was made, but I know that he was. Find the instruments used to create it, or similar, perhaps... and then maybe you can break what is otherwise unbreakable."
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
Dean winces as Xander and Riley remind him that they'd already tried Granas. Right--they were the ones who told them they couldn't purify them without killing them... No matter how many times he runs into those churches, he keeps mixing them up with the Ethos, forgetting which is associated with which. Chalk it up to an upbringing mostly without religion, with only a yearly visit from a traveling missionary who never captured Dean's attention because he had nothing to say about Golems.
But Moor Gault snaps at Xander's outburst, and Dean raises his hands in alarm, awkwardly at a loss for words. Fortunately, Riley manages to keep his cool, and Moor Gault goes into more detail about Valmar's creation. That's still a bit over Dean's head, and he's frankly shocked that Riley and Xander apparently knew this already. But Moor Gault has a point. If Valmar was made by humans, couldn't they just un-make him? And if they do, couldn't that break the curse?
"Thanks. Thanks!" he says with growing strength. "That's a better lead than we had before! One last thing--do you know where we could try looking for those artifacts?" The 'when' shouldn't be too hard, he figures; even if Granas's followers are no good for the actual purification, they've got to have records of when Granas and Valmar first showed up, and then they can go from there, right?
<Pose Tracker> Xander Lovell has posed.
"I'd seek to become whatever I have to, if no one can help us!" Xander growls up at Moor Gault, unheeding for the moment all that power and how it could destroy him. Maybe not now, summoned as he is, barely able to maintain himself. But by Moor Gault's own admissions, time and patience works differently for Guardians and Xander already knows it's unwise to be provoking future problems even with what he thinks to be an impossible joke.
Filgaia, dying because of some human problem. Human poison. Figures.
"Fine, I'll break whatever I have to." Find, Xander. Find these things to break the curse, not go breaking Valmar's possessions outright like a cat knocking divine instruments off of a shelf.
But it tastes like acid in his throat, this hope. Another adventure, another project. Another false promise to Riley. Dangling it in front of him and watching him wither when it gets yanked away for good.
And Xander hates himself, knowing if Moor Gault answers Dean's question, he won't be able to ignore it. He won't be able to keep himself from investigating. This much information might already have condemned him.
<Pose Tracker> Riley Arwell has posed.
Riley steps forward and takes on a more protective posture as things grow heated between Xander and the fiery spectre of Moor Gault.
"He's not really going to try to become a god--" Riley says. He can't be sure Xander won't try to become a god, but his priority is on trying to smooth things over between Xander and the primordial being of power he is somehow fighting with.
Ideas are offered for... yes, more adventures, more hopes, more trying. Riley finds that even though he asked, he isn't ready to embrace such things yet. But nor does he want to lose them, so he's glad that Dean is handling the pressing questions.
<Pose Tracker> Leon Albus has posed.
The Guardian does not quite glower at Xander -- but it is something close. An angry, cold look (as much as a being of fire can be cold). His eyes stay on him for a moment, before Riley speaks. Moor Gault remains silent, but that me be a victory. Instead, he looks to Dean.
"To undo Valmar would be a service to all Filgaia, Seer. One I am pleased to assist in," Moor Gault says. "I do not know where, precisely. It was... a human installation. A long time ago... no, but after the arrival of the Metal Demons. You will be better served turning to your own histories and stories. I am... of fractured awareness, at times, of the geography of this world."
It sounds like it frustrates him.
He flickers again. "I bid you good luck. I cannot maintain this form for longer. But if you can find a vessel... perhaps there will be some hope for them."
He flickers again. The smoke begins to thin; some embers fall down and cool into ash. "Perhaps not."
And then the smoke dissipates.
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
It's good to hear that Xander isn't actually going to try to become a god. At least, it's good to Dean, who takes Riley at his word. He knows, or at least has an idea, of how frustrating this must be to him--to both of them--to find out that the solution is much harder than they hoped it would be, if indeed it's any solution at all. He'd hoped himself that the Guardians' purification power would do it, but... it makes sense, after all he's heard, that it isn't enough, or that it isn't quite the right tool for the job.
At least Moor Gault is all for the idea. Dean brightens and smiles as he nods back at the Guardian, listening to his input. A human installation that was made a long time ago, but after the arrival of the Hyadeans. It's...! ...honestly so vague that he's not sure how much use it'll really be. But it sounds like Moor Gault has his own problems.
Dean nods in sympathy. He's not sure what Moor Gault means by a vessel, either, but before he can ask about that, the fire begins to think. "Thank you!!" he says quickly, just before the fire burns out and the embers fall to ash as the smoke clears.
For a moment, he lets the noises of the night dominate. Then he takes a deep breath and turns to the Fangs.
"So," he says seriously, "what do you think?"
It's a long shot. Even Dean understands that. And Xander and Riley have been tortured by hope before. It's up to them if they want to chase after this ghost of a chance. ...He wants them to, of course, but Dean knows he'd just be pushing his own values and desires onto them, and that wouldn't be fair.
<Pose Tracker> Xander Lovell has posed.
The idea of a mortal attaining godhood sounds so nonsensical to Xander he's almost surprised anyone could take him seriously. But then, is that really what happened with Valmar? How? Why? That's stupid and it ruined his life and he hates it!
No leads. Just a vague hope. Less vague, perhaps, then all of Xander's stupid visits to stupid libraries under the stupid excuse he needs a minute alone when usually the opposite is true. A maybe exists where never used to sit, which isn't all that different from Xander determined to believe there was always a maybe secretly, anyway.
Perhaps, and then again, perhaps not.
He doesn't feel that different. Angry at himself. Useless. Still in of pain. And then it all finally sinks in, the hope he held coming here, that it could be over, that they could have a life again, and why did he think that, what the hell.
Xander screams a feral sound and hurls one of his too-many daggers off at some far away rock. It clinks violently and tumbles aside.
Breathing can be an act of aggression, as Xander demonstrates. "I think --" He whirls around to Dean and Riley both. Dean, full of hope, Dean, who's still trying, Dean who went to this trouble and put himself at risk coming out here to meet them. And Riley, hope stolen away again after Xander inadvertently drew all those dreams out of him the night before, all of them gone...
With a softer growl, Xander yanks his gaze away from both of them. "I think we should go." He reaches to take Riley by the arm without looking, far more gently than his previous demeanor would imply him capable of, and tries to lead him away.
But he's already decided what he's going to do, because what options does he have besides giving up? He'll hunt to kill. To survive. And to hope.
<Pose Tracker> Riley Arwell has posed.
Xander is still in pain. They're going to need to kill again soon -- Dean's offer to try his Guardian's purification on them seemed real enough that they could wait for it... they gave it a chance, but they can't wait for maybes and possibilities that might be found at the end of hazy quests.
But Dean doesn't need to hear that after trying to help them and believing they would change if they had the chance. They can save bursting his bubble with disillusionment for the next time fate has him or one of his friends catch them in the act.
"We'll try it," he says to Dean, looking over his shoulder as Xander is already leading him away.
Is it even convincing? Maybe not, but it's better than 'Nice try, but we're off to do another murder!'
He musters a weak smile. "Thanks again." And then he's off with Xander, sweeping up the tossed dagger on the way out in case it is precious and would be missed once Xander is in a better state of mind.
<Pose Tracker> Dean Stark has posed.
Dean grimaces as Xander shrieks into the endless night. Riley is kinder, offering the hope that maybe that's just the scream of frustration of a lack of a quick solution, that they'll give it a try once they've had time to think on it.
Dean will accept that hope. But he's not quite the simpleton that his friends often assume him to be. He knows that his faith is also a gamble. And if, the next time they meet, Riley and Xander have decided to go back to their old ways... well, that's its own answer, too. One he can't entirely blame them for taking, even as he'll stop it if he catches them in the act.
Anything is possible as long as you don't give up. He still believes that. But how long can they last when there's an hourglass on all they do?