At first Solomon could only tilt his head at the priest. He hadn't really had any expectations about the man's reaction, but Paddy's meaning didn't quite make itself clear to him. It didn't show itself in his soul, either, which meant that Solomon was left in the dark.
"Which question?" he started to ask, before the obvious occurred. The question he'd come to ask to begin with. About how to speak to people. He frowned, half in thought and half, well, not.
"Somehow," he said, "I don't think any Necromancer would appreciate me touching their souls. People tend to object to invasions of privacy to that degree." Except Paddy, apparently. Would other Christians like him feel the same way? Were they so adjusted to the idea of a higher power who could see into their very beings that the thought someone might have that ability hardly gave them a second thought? Did they have anything in them of which to be ashamed?
That wasn't even getting into the moral quandary. Things Solomon had never bothered to consider previously had now become important, if only because he didn't trust his moral compass enough to know which answer was the right one. He had to ask the questions, things which to people like Paddy were so obvious, because if he didn't he didn't know which conclusion he'd draw.
"I'm not even sure it would be right," he admitted. "I can't help but see things, but there's no need for me to touch anyone's soul. Wouldn't doing so without permission constitute a breach of privacy?"
Granted, under many circumstances he probably wouldn't think twice about it. But he knew that he wouldn't like it if it were him on the receiving end, that he'd react badly, and right now these were the sorts of questions to which he needed some sort of answer.
no subject
"Which question?" he started to ask, before the obvious occurred. The question he'd come to ask to begin with. About how to speak to people. He frowned, half in thought and half, well, not.
"Somehow," he said, "I don't think any Necromancer would appreciate me touching their souls. People tend to object to invasions of privacy to that degree." Except Paddy, apparently. Would other Christians like him feel the same way? Were they so adjusted to the idea of a higher power who could see into their very beings that the thought someone might have that ability hardly gave them a second thought? Did they have anything in them of which to be ashamed?
That wasn't even getting into the moral quandary. Things Solomon had never bothered to consider previously had now become important, if only because he didn't trust his moral compass enough to know which answer was the right one. He had to ask the questions, things which to people like Paddy were so obvious, because if he didn't he didn't know which conclusion he'd draw.
"I'm not even sure it would be right," he admitted. "I can't help but see things, but there's no need for me to touch anyone's soul. Wouldn't doing so without permission constitute a breach of privacy?"
Granted, under many circumstances he probably wouldn't think twice about it. But he knew that he wouldn't like it if it were him on the receiving end, that he'd react badly, and right now these were the sorts of questions to which he needed some sort of answer.