The bitter laugh broke his heart even before Sam spoke, but the words were a bitter reminder of what Sam had told him about his family life before Cornelius had taken him under his wing. The bookmaker had revealed as much before, but the bard had become so used to Sam's mix of cowardice and bravery, stubbornness and surrender, that he had almost forgotten that the redheaded man had used to be someone else.
That he was even now becoming someone else again, a man that Jigano almost didn't recognize, as zealous as Amalia in his own way, though where Ama had been sworn to protect life, Sam seemed more and more willing to take it as the Voice's nebulous ends seemed to always justify any means necessary.
And he did indeed open his mouth to protest as Sam informed him that the Voice had taken something else away, rendering the ginger a little less human, a little less part of the world every time he prayed to her. Soon would there be anything left? But he closed his lips on the words, shoulder slumping as he finally admitted to himself that they would do no good, if all his arguments at the Ruins had been unable to reach his friend.
Sam had always sought the easy way out, and the Voice was willing to give it to him. A fantasy life, an eternal childhood, where pain didn't exist and she soothed away consequences and took the most difficult choices out of his hands for him. He watched instead as the letter opener pressed into pale skin, a wince flickering over his face, at least, as it separated flesh and the shimmering clear fluid began to run into the bottle.
"Does Remi know?" he asked instead, quietly, remembering that trip taken with the two of them into the Underground to see the Voice, back before she had shown her true nature with her threats and blights and murders.
That he was even now becoming someone else again, a man that Jigano almost didn't recognize, as zealous as Amalia in his own way, though where Ama had been sworn to protect life, Sam seemed more and more willing to take it as the Voice's nebulous ends seemed to always justify any means necessary.
And he did indeed open his mouth to protest as Sam informed him that the Voice had taken something else away, rendering the ginger a little less human, a little less part of the world every time he prayed to her. Soon would there be anything left? But he closed his lips on the words, shoulder slumping as he finally admitted to himself that they would do no good, if all his arguments at the Ruins had been unable to reach his friend.
Sam had always sought the easy way out, and the Voice was willing to give it to him. A fantasy life, an eternal childhood, where pain didn't exist and she soothed away consequences and took the most difficult choices out of his hands for him. He watched instead as the letter opener pressed into pale skin, a wince flickering over his face, at least, as it separated flesh and the shimmering clear fluid began to run into the bottle.
"Does Remi know?" he asked instead, quietly, remembering that trip taken with the two of them into the Underground to see the Voice, back before she had shown her true nature with her threats and blights and murders.
