"Well, he did try to exorcise me," Solomon said dryly, and then shook his head. "Either. Both. What does the Bible say? I can't remember. But Da took it all very seriously."
He had to stop, then, looking into what was, to him, empty space. He hadn't really spent much time thinking about his father, even lately, when he had all the reason in the world to do so. Things had happened too quickly, and he'd barely been able to keep up with what was happening in the present let alone consider the past too deeply. Even Lord Vile had been relevant to now, given that revelation.
What had his father said about fighting the Devil? It had been such a long time. As influential as those years had been, and he could barely remember them at all. Those memories were hazy and dust-covered. He hadn't considered them in so long he didn't know if he still could. The thought put a chill into his chest.
"I don't remember," he said softly. "I ... remember that he was very pious. That he was very proud to be so, and refused to submit to the King's Guard no matter what."
"Da, please!"
"I bid you be silent!"
"Ailbe, focus! We cannot allow ourselves to be put aside--not here and now. For your son's sake."
"I'm not--"
"Be silent, demon. Be silent and let my son hear this. We will deliver you from evil, Kian. We will."
After that, after all that and the way Solomon had used his soul, and the man's final words to him had been to live. Then again, Solomon had never doubted that his father loved him. Just his methods. And even then, he had been trying to save him the only way he knew how.
"He believed in man's power to reject evil." The memories weren't exactly coming faster, but now he thought about it, little details he'd never seen before were coming into the fore. He'd asked Solomon not to use magic after the exorcism had failed, as if that restraint would earn him God's grace, but then only a week ago simply asked him to live well. Was it possible for souls to change even after death? Solomon wasn't sure, but it seemed like a big leap.
"Whenever the King's guard harassed us he told me to ignore them. He never fell into the trap of arguing with them. He was never afraid of their judgement. He always said that God would be the one to decide their worth, but he never seemed worried about his own. The most afraid I ever saw him was when he worried for mine."
None of which exactly answered Paddy's question. Or maybe it did, in a way. All the little things Solomon's father had done, things Solomon hadn't known at the time--all the ways he'd acted which Solomon hadn't been able to accept. To stand upright for what he believed. To not be afraid of judgement, before death or after. To live well, so as to make that lack of fear possible. To be dignified, to accept responsibility, to admit one's mistakes.
Solomon realised he was silent, but couldn't find the words to continue. All of a sudden he missed his father with such intensity that it was a physical ache.
no subject
He had to stop, then, looking into what was, to him, empty space. He hadn't really spent much time thinking about his father, even lately, when he had all the reason in the world to do so. Things had happened too quickly, and he'd barely been able to keep up with what was happening in the present let alone consider the past too deeply. Even Lord Vile had been relevant to now, given that revelation.
What had his father said about fighting the Devil? It had been such a long time. As influential as those years had been, and he could barely remember them at all. Those memories were hazy and dust-covered. He hadn't considered them in so long he didn't know if he still could. The thought put a chill into his chest.
"I don't remember," he said softly. "I ... remember that he was very pious. That he was very proud to be so, and refused to submit to the King's Guard no matter what."
"Da, please!"
"I bid you be silent!"
"Ailbe, focus! We cannot allow ourselves to be put aside--not here and now. For your son's sake."
"I'm not--"
"Be silent, demon. Be silent and let my son hear this. We will deliver you from evil, Kian. We will."
After that, after all that and the way Solomon had used his soul, and the man's final words to him had been to live. Then again, Solomon had never doubted that his father loved him. Just his methods. And even then, he had been trying to save him the only way he knew how.
"He believed in man's power to reject evil." The memories weren't exactly coming faster, but now he thought about it, little details he'd never seen before were coming into the fore. He'd asked Solomon not to use magic after the exorcism had failed, as if that restraint would earn him God's grace, but then only a week ago simply asked him to live well. Was it possible for souls to change even after death? Solomon wasn't sure, but it seemed like a big leap.
"Whenever the King's guard harassed us he told me to ignore them. He never fell into the trap of arguing with them. He was never afraid of their judgement. He always said that God would be the one to decide their worth, but he never seemed worried about his own. The most afraid I ever saw him was when he worried for mine."
None of which exactly answered Paddy's question. Or maybe it did, in a way. All the little things Solomon's father had done, things Solomon hadn't known at the time--all the ways he'd acted which Solomon hadn't been able to accept. To stand upright for what he believed. To not be afraid of judgement, before death or after. To live well, so as to make that lack of fear possible. To be dignified, to accept responsibility, to admit one's mistakes.
Solomon realised he was silent, but couldn't find the words to continue. All of a sudden he missed his father with such intensity that it was a physical ache.