Paddy considered that, his eyes on Solomon and yet not as he tried to imagine what it was the ex-Necromancer saw. In Paddy, he'd talked about an oasis in a desert. With the way he looked at Paddy sometimes, that oasis must stretch very far out. It could, for all Paddy knew, fill the entire kitchen. He'd never thought of the human soul as a tiny self-contained spark in peoples' cores, and it was nice to see that belief vindicated.

"That would depend, I think," he answered slowly. "People who need help don't always admit that they do, and they certainly don't always ask for it. It doesn't mean we shouldn't help them. Having said that..." Necromancers. Paddy still felt like he was in way over his head. "Judgment is always the difficult part. Everyone is different, whether brainwashed or not. There is no blanket cure, or one true way to handle things. It's a case-by-case basis. When you touch peoples' souls, are you changing who they are? Or are you just influencing parts of them?"

Solomon's touch hadn't achieved anything Paddy wouldn't have managed on his own, given time. In fact, it felt very much like Solomon was just expediting the amount of time it took the soul to heal itself naturally. It was the same basic principle as giving someone a hug, only with a touch of magic thrown in.

Paddy could well understand why someone might be averse to it, though. Were it not Solomon, he might not have been so quick to agree to it himself.