Even if she wasn't looking straight at him, Gabriel could still see that guilt and then the suspicion, and it hurt more than he thought it would. It wasn't quite surprising, he told himself. Angels didn't exist here, apparently. And Valkyrie hadn't known him all that long. But it still hurt, because he could see, could tell, that even though she felt guilty it still wasn't quite enough. She felt guilty, but wasn't convinced. She still felt she knew better.
She was young. Eager. Powerful, and wanting that power. A recipe for disaster. And he'd have to let her walk into it.
In that moment in which she wasn't looking Gabe closed his eyes to brace himself and couldn't help the wetness in his eyes or the tightness in himself that was grief. Is this enough? he asked the air silently. Is this all I can do, without taking it from her outright?
No. No, surely it wasn't. Even if Valkyrie chose to walk this path, that didn't mean he couldn't be there to illuminate the alternative. And when she fell--because she would fall--maybe he could make it so she was able to rise again.
And maybe he'd get another opportunity sooner than he'd been expecting. A messiah. The necromancers were preaching a messiah, and that messiah was meant to be Valkyrie. Cold dread clutched at him, but when the Archangel opened his eyes and looked to Skul there was nothing but determination in his eyes. "Yes," he said firmly. "Just give me a minute or two to alter Ms Sorrows' wards."
He dropped Valkyrie's hands and turned toward the original tree where the entrance still was, manifesting another scalpel in his grip. As promised, within two minutes he had changed Ms Sorrows' sigils to be wards and let the entrance itself spring over to the dead tree which replaced it. "Okay. Let's go."
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She was young. Eager. Powerful, and wanting that power. A recipe for disaster. And he'd have to let her walk into it.
In that moment in which she wasn't looking Gabe closed his eyes to brace himself and couldn't help the wetness in his eyes or the tightness in himself that was grief. Is this enough? he asked the air silently. Is this all I can do, without taking it from her outright?
No. No, surely it wasn't. Even if Valkyrie chose to walk this path, that didn't mean he couldn't be there to illuminate the alternative. And when she fell--because she would fall--maybe he could make it so she was able to rise again.
And maybe he'd get another opportunity sooner than he'd been expecting. A messiah. The necromancers were preaching a messiah, and that messiah was meant to be Valkyrie. Cold dread clutched at him, but when the Archangel opened his eyes and looked to Skul there was nothing but determination in his eyes. "Yes," he said firmly. "Just give me a minute or two to alter Ms Sorrows' wards."
He dropped Valkyrie's hands and turned toward the original tree where the entrance still was, manifesting another scalpel in his grip. As promised, within two minutes he had changed Ms Sorrows' sigils to be wards and let the entrance itself spring over to the dead tree which replaced it. "Okay. Let's go."