[ He clears his throat, an itch in his lungs at the scent of the copal, itching and rubbing against his eternally over-taxed lungs, the seat of a cough that he covered by lighting a cigar that he fished out of his jacket, and inhaled on reflexively. The drama of it, he could appreciate, and as he listened to the tale of it, of someone given everything they could ever want, only to die after a year...
He can appreciate it. The ritual of it, the religious aspect, he doesn't really understand o4r have much interest in, but he can enjoy the dramatic irony of it. If only everyone who was given whatever they wanted could live only a year. what would they do with it? Become slaves to their own desires? Would they only be able to live for the moment?
Would they watch the days tick by, and feel the anticipation of their lives winding through the hourglass? Watching each grain trickle out? Watch the remaining time with the certainty that it would not last?
He knew a little bit what that was like, after all, once he had realized what his deal with the demon had meant, in Kenos. He remembered each day, feeling that anticipatory fear, feeling the sickening realization that he would not live to see the results of his fight, his efforts. Was it better, or worse, that it was a captive of war? The alternative for them, he expected, would be death or servitude. It's what he would do.
His lips curled, even reflecting on his own experience. After all, he wasn't here with Sebastian, he was here with Tezca. ]
Really? Is it similar to the ritual I saw you perform?
[ He asked, and his tone was curious. ] I would enjoy seeing it. I can imagine, but... the imagination tends to run away, doesn't it?
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He can appreciate it. The ritual of it, the religious aspect, he doesn't really understand o4r have much interest in, but he can enjoy the dramatic irony of it. If only everyone who was given whatever they wanted could live only a year. what would they do with it? Become slaves to their own desires? Would they only be able to live for the moment?
Would they watch the days tick by, and feel the anticipation of their lives winding through the hourglass? Watching each grain trickle out? Watch the remaining time with the certainty that it would not last?
He knew a little bit what that was like, after all, once he had realized what his deal with the demon had meant, in Kenos. He remembered each day, feeling that anticipatory fear, feeling the sickening realization that he would not live to see the results of his fight, his efforts. Was it better, or worse, that it was a captive of war? The alternative for them, he expected, would be death or servitude. It's what he would do.
His lips curled, even reflecting on his own experience. After all, he wasn't here with Sebastian, he was here with Tezca. ]
Really? Is it similar to the ritual I saw you perform?
[ He asked, and his tone was curious. ] I would enjoy seeing it. I can imagine, but... the imagination tends to run away, doesn't it?