So the Necromancers did have reasons. Purely selfish ones. It didn't in any way justify what they'd done, nor did it make Paddy any more sympathetic to them. And on his own purely selfish note, he was glad he'd taken Solomon's advice and chosen a new name for himself. Men who had no problem with blinding one of their own would have felt no guilt over manipulating a priest, were they ever to discover Paddy existed.
He felt rather less shock at being told he was an oasis than he otherwise might have. Unlike the others, Paddy didn't need that context to have an idea of what Solomon was talking about. He'd helped enough people to know that souls were as varied as life was. As circumstances were. He hadn't been picturing such literal interpretations of souls, but in a way, that made sense too.
"Of course you don't want it."
It wasn't a humouring agreement, or a command, or accompanied by pity. It was simple and genuine acknowledgment, perhaps mixed with a hint of confusion as to why Solomon's reaction should have been anything different. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. You've been unspeakably powerful and self-reliant for... well, centuries. And now, not only is your magic gone - or passive - but you're blind. Lifestream and souls aside, no one expects you to want that, least of all me."
Paddy had seen this during certain confessions before. There were people who had a tendency to believe that any sort of fear was a weakness of character. Paddy usually knew what to say: it wasn't. Fear was human. Giving into fear lamentable, but natural and understandable. It was the overcoming of fear that was extraordinary.
He didn't try to say that here. Solomon either already knew it, or wouldn't accept it.
"Why don't you want it healed?" Paddy asked. "Why did you say no? It wasn't because of what others would think of you, or you wouldn't be worried about that now. It's not anyone else's opinions of you that concern you, is it? It's yours."
The ex-Necromancer didn't want to admit the truth, even to himself. Because in Solomon's eyes, that would be acknowledging a weakness.
no subject
He felt rather less shock at being told he was an oasis than he otherwise might have. Unlike the others, Paddy didn't need that context to have an idea of what Solomon was talking about. He'd helped enough people to know that souls were as varied as life was. As circumstances were. He hadn't been picturing such literal interpretations of souls, but in a way, that made sense too.
"Of course you don't want it."
It wasn't a humouring agreement, or a command, or accompanied by pity. It was simple and genuine acknowledgment, perhaps mixed with a hint of confusion as to why Solomon's reaction should have been anything different. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. You've been unspeakably powerful and self-reliant for... well, centuries. And now, not only is your magic gone - or passive - but you're blind. Lifestream and souls aside, no one expects you to want that, least of all me."
Paddy had seen this during certain confessions before. There were people who had a tendency to believe that any sort of fear was a weakness of character. Paddy usually knew what to say: it wasn't. Fear was human. Giving into fear lamentable, but natural and understandable. It was the overcoming of fear that was extraordinary.
He didn't try to say that here. Solomon either already knew it, or wouldn't accept it.
"Why don't you want it healed?" Paddy asked. "Why did you say no? It wasn't because of what others would think of you, or you wouldn't be worried about that now. It's not anyone else's opinions of you that concern you, is it? It's yours."
The ex-Necromancer didn't want to admit the truth, even to himself. Because in Solomon's eyes, that would be acknowledging a weakness.