Stranger in a familiar land

[Helena]

“No honest sentence ever started with ‘let’s just say,’” she said without looking up. The disinterest was simply because she did not care who Arikan used if it was in the service of the Light, or at least in service of eradicating the Forsaken. Sometimes it was better not to know the nature of the sacrifices made, especially should she be required to feign her ignorance in the future. She could not betray what she did not know. Nor could she make a judgement on whether the means to their ends remained entirely on a Light-led path. Certainly she expected there would be times to come in which that was not the case. But Talin would not be prepared to use the dreadlord so if she was squeamish about it.

Their session was almost done. And thank the light for it too. He was not normally quite so chatty. Though she supposed she’d rather he just ask his questions than expect her to dance around knowing what information he required. A warder seemed a strange investment though, and she did at least contemplate the possible manner of their said “acquaintance”. Vladamir was veteran enough to have seen the siege. For him not to have recognised Arikan would be a glaring ignorance for any gaidin, let alone one bonded to a Green, and therefore entirely unlikely without some measure of subterfuge. But where Talin did not have answers, she knew how to find them. She had spent her entire life cultivating skills of observancy, seeking to fit herself unobtrusively into this world. She noticed things, remembered them, and found someone else to bother with the work of piecing them together.

“I’ve never heard tell of it on Tower grounds. But his kin say a Green foretold he would save the life of a Sister, and in so doing save the lives of thousands. Honour dragged him south accordingly, of course. I rather think the Keep hoped he would return to them in their time of need, but it seems that thread is not to be woven in such a way.” She glanced up. Her gaze was unnervingly direct when she chose it to be, or perhaps when she forgot to apply the necessary masks of mediocrity. But it was only a moment before her attention returned to her task. “Still, some threads shine brighter than others. And that’s a useful tool,” she agreed. "Other men will follow a man like that."