"I'm sure there was some chance," Solomon said as they left the central room, "but it didn't come to pass. He said he'd order in at the Sanctuary's expense, if that helps."
Without the Cleavers in the maze, Solomon could actually see where he was going. Bliss still left a very obvious ripple, but even that was tolerable, given how he was contained within a filled vessel. There was only so much it could reflect, now.
"There is such a thing as fallen angels in traditional Judaic belief," Solomon said thoughtfully and innocently. "They must have fallen for some reason. There's nothing to say that the Host doesn't have the same potential, given they're animated by belief also."
"And you say this was a good idea?" Bliss asked. Solomon tilted his head toward the man.
"It was either that or leave you there."
"And yet you chose the former," Bliss observed, keeping pace just behind. Solomon didn't need to turn to see him. "An interesting choice, even for someone who's left the Temple."
There was curiosity in him, Solomon could see. It looked different, because it was so confined, but he could see that presence blotting the front surface of the reflection's form, as if it was trying to peer at him through the glass. "To be perfectly honest, the Cleavers were giving me a headache. Are you familiar with the theory of the lifestream?"
"Somewhat."
"Necromancy is more like Sensitivity than anyone guessed. What it involves is a connection to the lifestream. Necromancy simply happens to be the method people assume they must use to manipulate magic at all in that form. That assumption is flawed. I'm not longer a Necromancer, but I haven't been barred from using magic, because my connection to the lifestream remains through my Surge. Reflections leave something of a ... ripple."
"I see," Bliss said slowly, and fell silent, but Solomon could feel his gaze on his back the whole way out of the maze.
"I'll, uh, get the car," John mumbled nearly the instant they hit daylight, hurrying away.
"I'm just gonna stick 'round here," Rafe drawled, stretching. "Fletch and m'nephew might show up against to do some more trainin'. Nice seeing y'all. Enjoy lunch."
With a flashing grin he turned and strolled around the side of the hall.
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Without the Cleavers in the maze, Solomon could actually see where he was going. Bliss still left a very obvious ripple, but even that was tolerable, given how he was contained within a filled vessel. There was only so much it could reflect, now.
"There is such a thing as fallen angels in traditional Judaic belief," Solomon said thoughtfully and innocently. "They must have fallen for some reason. There's nothing to say that the Host doesn't have the same potential, given they're animated by belief also."
"And you say this was a good idea?" Bliss asked. Solomon tilted his head toward the man.
"It was either that or leave you there."
"And yet you chose the former," Bliss observed, keeping pace just behind. Solomon didn't need to turn to see him. "An interesting choice, even for someone who's left the Temple."
There was curiosity in him, Solomon could see. It looked different, because it was so confined, but he could see that presence blotting the front surface of the reflection's form, as if it was trying to peer at him through the glass. "To be perfectly honest, the Cleavers were giving me a headache. Are you familiar with the theory of the lifestream?"
"Somewhat."
"Necromancy is more like Sensitivity than anyone guessed. What it involves is a connection to the lifestream. Necromancy simply happens to be the method people assume they must use to manipulate magic at all in that form. That assumption is flawed. I'm not longer a Necromancer, but I haven't been barred from using magic, because my connection to the lifestream remains through my Surge. Reflections leave something of a ... ripple."
"I see," Bliss said slowly, and fell silent, but Solomon could feel his gaze on his back the whole way out of the maze.
"I'll, uh, get the car," John mumbled nearly the instant they hit daylight, hurrying away.
"I'm just gonna stick 'round here," Rafe drawled, stretching. "Fletch and m'nephew might show up against to do some more trainin'. Nice seeing y'all. Enjoy lunch."
With a flashing grin he turned and strolled around the side of the hall.