"What?" For a moment, between the closeness and his soul and the quiet, steady ache beginning to rise again in Gabe's temples, the Archangel didn't quite understand what Sanguine meant. Then the bemused undertone hit him and Gabe frowned. For some reason, Sanguine drawing the same conclusion Gabe had been perpetuating to others was irritating.
Maybe it was just Sanguine.
Either way, there was a trace of that irritation in Gabe's voice. "Yeah, actually, we were 'saving each other'. He saved me, I saved him, we went 'round in circles a few times and finally managed to get the Hell out of dodge. You wanna keep talking and suffocate when the air runs out faster, or are we gonna actually go someplace now?"
~~~
Well, at least Father O'Reilly still had some manner of humour. Dazed humour, but even so, it was a very good sign. Solomon chuckled, and it was actually somewhat genuine and not very hysterical at all.
True, Solomon hadn't seen Saint Gabriel's 'true' form. Then again, he had seen the Archangel's truest form, seen his connection with the lifestream and everything about him. He'd seen Saint Gabriel's wings, seen the way his light washed against Pleasant's soul. There was everything awe-inspiring about that, particularly given the contrast between Saint Gabriel and the magic of Necromancy.
"No," Solomon started to say, and then stopped. Saint Gabriel was helping with the investigation. An investigation about a theft of the Desolation Engine.
The Temple had just suffered a theft. The theft of a soul-catcher. It could be relevant. It could be not. A soul-catcher was rare, valuable, and used for only one purpose. Whether it was actually related to the case, Solomon didn't know, but he certainly no longer felt beholden to the Temple to keep its secrets. Especially now that he knew just how real, tangible and ever-changing souls were, and had met one of those who was responsible for them.
"Tell Saint Gabriel," he said, "and Pleasant as well, I suppose, that someone stole a soul-catcher from the Temple last night."
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Maybe it was just Sanguine.
Either way, there was a trace of that irritation in Gabe's voice. "Yeah, actually, we were 'saving each other'. He saved me, I saved him, we went 'round in circles a few times and finally managed to get the Hell out of dodge. You wanna keep talking and suffocate when the air runs out faster, or are we gonna actually go someplace now?"
~~~
Well, at least Father O'Reilly still had some manner of humour. Dazed humour, but even so, it was a very good sign. Solomon chuckled, and it was actually somewhat genuine and not very hysterical at all.
True, Solomon hadn't seen Saint Gabriel's 'true' form. Then again, he had seen the Archangel's truest form, seen his connection with the lifestream and everything about him. He'd seen Saint Gabriel's wings, seen the way his light washed against Pleasant's soul. There was everything awe-inspiring about that, particularly given the contrast between Saint Gabriel and the magic of Necromancy.
"No," Solomon started to say, and then stopped. Saint Gabriel was helping with the investigation. An investigation about a theft of the Desolation Engine.
The Temple had just suffered a theft. The theft of a soul-catcher. It could be relevant. It could be not. A soul-catcher was rare, valuable, and used for only one purpose. Whether it was actually related to the case, Solomon didn't know, but he certainly no longer felt beholden to the Temple to keep its secrets. Especially now that he knew just how real, tangible and ever-changing souls were, and had met one of those who was responsible for them.
"Tell Saint Gabriel," he said, "and Pleasant as well, I suppose, that someone stole a soul-catcher from the Temple last night."