"They say it's hard for a fool to know when he's about to step off a cliff," Gabriel noted with utmost innocence. His eyes widened and all, and for once, his voice rang--well, sort-of chimed a bit--with insincerity.
Then he shrugged, an easy shrug, grinned in lieu of actually smirking. "I don't need to look in a mirror, Billy-Ray. I already know what to write home about. I ain't scramblin'. And, for the record, he was comparin' me to you, not the other way 'round. Big difference."
The Archangel rolled his eyes in Skulduggery's direction, amused and mildly exasperated in turns. Not that the detective was wrong. It was sort of fun, mocking the American by emulating him like this, but most of all, Gabe was just trying to draw the man out.
~~~
"I want to help, if I can." Wanted to help. All this time, Solomon had been puzzling over Father O'Reilly's motives, his actions. Why he could still possibly be there, listening. He had started to come to the conclusion that perhaps it was just a matter of getting information.
And then the priest had said that. After a moment of trying to wrap his mind around the words, Solomon chose to dismiss them for the time being. They simply weren't coming together for him.
"I never did wonder much about right and wrong, good and evil," Solomon admitted, watching the way the sunlight glinted off the head of his cane. "There seemed to be little point. I had a goal and a faith, and that was all that mattered."
He loosened his grip and the cane slid through his hand until its base thudded softly on the floor. "It's called the Surge. Up until adulthood, sorcerers can switch between the different forms of magic. There's two--the Elemental and the Adept fields. The Elemental magic is what it sounds; it harnesses the power of fire, of air, of water and earth. The Adept field encompasses everything else. Most Elementals can use all forms of fundamental magics, unless they sacrifice one to power another, but Adepts usually specialise in one thing or another. Superhuman strength. Imbuing runes with power. Telepathy. As children and teenagers, we ... experiment, I suppose you can say. Train in one field or another, knowing that a change can be made at any given time."
The Necromancer's tone was detached, quiet. Not exactly hollow, but the voice of someone who had nothing left and now was only prepared for an assumed ending. That was how he'd convinced Valkyrie to study Necromancy. She was before her Surge; she didn't have to choose. Yet.
But he'd always meant for her to choose his discipline--before.
"Once a sorcerer experiences their Surge, they cannot use any magic other than the one they chose to undertake the Surge with. It defines them. Becomes them. For me, it was Necromancy."
no subject
Then he shrugged, an easy shrug, grinned in lieu of actually smirking. "I don't need to look in a mirror, Billy-Ray. I already know what to write home about. I ain't scramblin'. And, for the record, he was comparin' me to you, not the other way 'round. Big difference."
The Archangel rolled his eyes in Skulduggery's direction, amused and mildly exasperated in turns. Not that the detective was wrong. It was sort of fun, mocking the American by emulating him like this, but most of all, Gabe was just trying to draw the man out.
~~~
"I want to help, if I can." Wanted to help. All this time, Solomon had been puzzling over Father O'Reilly's motives, his actions. Why he could still possibly be there, listening. He had started to come to the conclusion that perhaps it was just a matter of getting information.
And then the priest had said that. After a moment of trying to wrap his mind around the words, Solomon chose to dismiss them for the time being. They simply weren't coming together for him.
"I never did wonder much about right and wrong, good and evil," Solomon admitted, watching the way the sunlight glinted off the head of his cane. "There seemed to be little point. I had a goal and a faith, and that was all that mattered."
He loosened his grip and the cane slid through his hand until its base thudded softly on the floor. "It's called the Surge. Up until adulthood, sorcerers can switch between the different forms of magic. There's two--the Elemental and the Adept fields. The Elemental magic is what it sounds; it harnesses the power of fire, of air, of water and earth. The Adept field encompasses everything else. Most Elementals can use all forms of fundamental magics, unless they sacrifice one to power another, but Adepts usually specialise in one thing or another. Superhuman strength. Imbuing runes with power. Telepathy. As children and teenagers, we ... experiment, I suppose you can say. Train in one field or another, knowing that a change can be made at any given time."
The Necromancer's tone was detached, quiet. Not exactly hollow, but the voice of someone who had nothing left and now was only prepared for an assumed ending. That was how he'd convinced Valkyrie to study Necromancy. She was before her Surge; she didn't have to choose. Yet.
But he'd always meant for her to choose his discipline--before.
"Once a sorcerer experiences their Surge, they cannot use any magic other than the one they chose to undertake the Surge with. It defines them. Becomes them. For me, it was Necromancy."