"As you are determined to see the Old Gods as your enemy," Jigano pointed out quietly. "And what 'them,' Sam? I know only of Rexanna, taken in as a gift to Bastien. What other Abandoned has the Voice shown favor or granted power to?" He watched the bookmaker with eyes that were weary and filled with regret, tilting his head as Remi's name was brought into the conversation, and his brow rose in surprise - not at what the alchemist had said, but that Sam would call on him as an authority. "Remi and I didn't get along for a long time," he said with a nod. "We've worked hard to move past that... and I thought we were making progress. Was this a recent agreement that he made with you? Or an old one?" Remi being mad at him a year ago was only to be expected. If it was more recent though...
Then again, Sam had a way of twisting memories and remembering conversations to suit himself.
"We fight when the Voice uses you to hurt people," the bard said softly. "When she uses you to hurt me. But I'm sorry that I make you feel that way, Sam." What more could he say? That Sam continued to act like a child, clinging to the Voice as the mother he never truly had, even though he was an adult now? That the bookmaker always said he lay awake at night worrying about the choices he was asked to make... but then, Ascended didn't sleep, did they? And in the end he never actually questioned what he was asked to do, he just did it. "I don't want to fight with you, either, but you know how I feel about the Voice... and you continue to bring her up when we meet, as if you're looking for a fight. As if she's the only thing in your life anymore."
He barked a bitter laugh at the mention of Wessex, shaking his head sharply as the rain began to come down harder, a stiff wind blowing it over them both. "Wessex? Sam, she's been bribed and tinkered with so many times I don't think she can sneeze without the Voice's permission. Much less stand against her. Stand against the Voice's enemies? Surely. But against the Voice herself? ...No, Sam, she will never tell your goddess 'no.'" Maybe Rex...
Then again, maybe not.
"And I wouldn't know. She's all you talk about - all any Ascended I've spoken to ever wants to talk about - and only ever to defend her and say how good she is. The 'one goddess trying to improve matters,' just now, wasn't it?" He shrugged, holding in his sigh as he turned his attention back to the storm that was rumbling on top of them now. Lightning arced through the sky above as the moonlight faded to an eerie darkness, and the bard's eyes shone fox-mirrored in the flash.
He listened to Sam's soft speech, but his expression did not look reassured. "You've been able to turn invisible for a year, Sam," he said softly. "If you truly wanted to leave that fight, wanted to avoid hurting those Fae, you could have done so at any time. And you didn't have to help if you thought killing a sacred spirit or its defenders was truly wrong. But something in you... thought that the Voice's goals were more important than other people's lives. People who only wanted to defend their home and the soul of a being more ancient than the barrier." He shook his head and turned a sad smile on his friend as the thunder crashed again above them, shaking dust from the rafters. "I know I won't change your mind, Sam." After what the Voice had done to his friend, he knew he couldn't. "I'm just sorry the Loreseekers couldn't be your family and purpose."
Then again, Sam had a way of twisting memories and remembering conversations to suit himself.
"We fight when the Voice uses you to hurt people," the bard said softly. "When she uses you to hurt me. But I'm sorry that I make you feel that way, Sam." What more could he say? That Sam continued to act like a child, clinging to the Voice as the mother he never truly had, even though he was an adult now? That the bookmaker always said he lay awake at night worrying about the choices he was asked to make... but then, Ascended didn't sleep, did they? And in the end he never actually questioned what he was asked to do, he just did it. "I don't want to fight with you, either, but you know how I feel about the Voice... and you continue to bring her up when we meet, as if you're looking for a fight. As if she's the only thing in your life anymore."
He barked a bitter laugh at the mention of Wessex, shaking his head sharply as the rain began to come down harder, a stiff wind blowing it over them both. "Wessex? Sam, she's been bribed and tinkered with so many times I don't think she can sneeze without the Voice's permission. Much less stand against her. Stand against the Voice's enemies? Surely. But against the Voice herself? ...No, Sam, she will never tell your goddess 'no.'" Maybe Rex...
Then again, maybe not.
"And I wouldn't know. She's all you talk about - all any Ascended I've spoken to ever wants to talk about - and only ever to defend her and say how good she is. The 'one goddess trying to improve matters,' just now, wasn't it?" He shrugged, holding in his sigh as he turned his attention back to the storm that was rumbling on top of them now. Lightning arced through the sky above as the moonlight faded to an eerie darkness, and the bard's eyes shone fox-mirrored in the flash.
He listened to Sam's soft speech, but his expression did not look reassured. "You've been able to turn invisible for a year, Sam," he said softly. "If you truly wanted to leave that fight, wanted to avoid hurting those Fae, you could have done so at any time. And you didn't have to help if you thought killing a sacred spirit or its defenders was truly wrong. But something in you... thought that the Voice's goals were more important than other people's lives. People who only wanted to defend their home and the soul of a being more ancient than the barrier." He shook his head and turned a sad smile on his friend as the thunder crashed again above them, shaking dust from the rafters. "I know I won't change your mind, Sam." After what the Voice had done to his friend, he knew he couldn't. "I'm just sorry the Loreseekers couldn't be your family and purpose."
