"I will, sir." In spite of himself, in spite of everything, John found himself smiling all the way to the garage and as they signed out the cars. He hadn't expected Elder Ravel to remember his mother's name.
There were a lot of things John hadn't expected to happen today, actually. Elder Erskine Ravel actually being curious enough to initiate conversation on his own about John's daily life was very definitely at the bottom of the list. The glow of pride in his mother's work was enough to see him through his reserve at that fact. It wasn't that he'd never been proud of his mother--it was just that it was hard not to take her stories of the war for granted when she told them so often about one group in particular.
"I wouldn't know, sir." He'd heard of that American detective the Grand Mage had temporarily hired, and knew the Elders had been talking about him sometimes. About his brother. John had also thought he heard China Sorrows mention 'Merlin', but then dismissed it as a trick of his hearing. Or maybe someone very, very arrogant.
If this Rafe was the one who'd build this hall with magic, though, he must be powerful. For a moment John looked up at it, in awe, as the others came nearer to them. That question was almost the last thing he expected, and he blinked at Elder Ravel for a moment, at a loss. What kind of a question was that?
"My father was a mortal, sir," he said uncertainly, "and he believed. I lived with him. Mother liked travelling too much to settle down. He used to read me stories from the Bible, sir. I always enjoyed them, if that's what you mean."
"You're not subtle either, Reveller," Elder Wreath said to his colleague, head tilted and sightless gaze nevertheless looking almost directly at the Elemental. "How far into the maze do we need to be, China?"
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There were a lot of things John hadn't expected to happen today, actually. Elder Erskine Ravel actually being curious enough to initiate conversation on his own about John's daily life was very definitely at the bottom of the list. The glow of pride in his mother's work was enough to see him through his reserve at that fact. It wasn't that he'd never been proud of his mother--it was just that it was hard not to take her stories of the war for granted when she told them so often about one group in particular.
"I wouldn't know, sir." He'd heard of that American detective the Grand Mage had temporarily hired, and knew the Elders had been talking about him sometimes. About his brother. John had also thought he heard China Sorrows mention 'Merlin', but then dismissed it as a trick of his hearing. Or maybe someone very, very arrogant.
If this Rafe was the one who'd build this hall with magic, though, he must be powerful. For a moment John looked up at it, in awe, as the others came nearer to them. That question was almost the last thing he expected, and he blinked at Elder Ravel for a moment, at a loss. What kind of a question was that?
"My father was a mortal, sir," he said uncertainly, "and he believed. I lived with him. Mother liked travelling too much to settle down. He used to read me stories from the Bible, sir. I always enjoyed them, if that's what you mean."
"You're not subtle either, Reveller," Elder Wreath said to his colleague, head tilted and sightless gaze nevertheless looking almost directly at the Elemental. "How far into the maze do we need to be, China?"