FINN
the spyglass
I’ll take the long way ‘round
”Critical,” Finn repeats, but the word is a comfort to him more than a disease. He doesn’t look back up at Remi, feeling the other man’s eyes on him and staring out of the porch, across the bluffs to the misty grey beyond. A soft huff leaves him, almost a laugh but not quite, and he shakes his head. ”That is unacceptable,” he says, with the conviction of a man who doesn’t necessarily believe what he’s saying, but knows that he works for the sorts of men who do.
”The Ascended are a plague brought to us by the Voice. As a representative of the Old Gods, it is not a threat I would think you likely to ignore,” he admits softly. ”Why would it be for nothing, if we are stopping history from repeating itself?”
”The Ascended are a plague brought to us by the Voice. As a representative of the Old Gods, it is not a threat I would think you likely to ignore,” he admits softly. ”Why would it be for nothing, if we are stopping history from repeating itself?”
I’ll find my own way down
