08-11-2016, 11:02 AM
The rush of her answer gave way to silence, the tick of the ancient clock the only sound again. She had spoken simply and quickly. Armande's blue eyes searched hers for a sign, for any indicator. He did not trust her, of course, could never trust her. But he could trust her sense of self-preservation.
So...was it in her best interests to lie? Sadly, there was no way to know for sure, at this very moment. It would not be unexpected for her to fear revealing that she had come into contact with gods in these encounters with the ijiraq and had simply been unable to do anything about them. Understandable, if maddening. His encounter with Vellas and the Naga came to mind. But the fact that he could conceive of an Atharim with-holding information indicated that it had likely been done- if not by this girl, then by others.
Inwardly, he sighed at this late realization. He had assumed it would be understood. Hunting the gods was paramount. But it had to be done intelligently. One did not kill oneself in fruitless attacks. Those fools who had thought to take down Apollyon in a head on confrontation had earned their reward. But he could see how others might perceive his zeal for hunting down gods. He would need to communicate this to others. Not a blanket amnesty. The new High Inquisitor would continue to need to do his work of keeping the Atharim pure.
But perhaps an edict indicating that if an Atharim had come across a god and was not in a place to do anything about it, that did not, in and of itself, constitute betrayal or treachery. Father Stone's execution was for concealing a god, not simply coming across one.
Not that he would put this girl's mind at ease with any such admission. He knew her kind. Not as a sentient. As a person. Her mouth indicated as much, a flippant, fatalistic attitude. He had once been hunting a drakaina in Monte Carlo, which had necessitated staking out a gambling establishment. The atmosphere of sad desperation and greedy hunger had been cloying. Never before had he felt such a sense of contempt for humanity. At one of the baccarat tables he had watched in fascination as a man doubled down on one bad wager after another, asking for a card again and again from the banker, a fatalist roll of the 'dice'. This girl had an air of that. If he asked her again, he knew her answer would stay the same, regardless of its truth.
In the end, this had been a fruitless hunt for information. He had his assumptions that seemed likely. Her words had neither confirmed nor disproved them. He would have to act regardless.
He lifted his hand from the package and once again picked up the hourglass pendant, changing the subject. "You said Ascendancy pulled this from the ground. I assume your 'secret way' into the quarters of the Ascendancy have something to do with how you acquired this?"
So...was it in her best interests to lie? Sadly, there was no way to know for sure, at this very moment. It would not be unexpected for her to fear revealing that she had come into contact with gods in these encounters with the ijiraq and had simply been unable to do anything about them. Understandable, if maddening. His encounter with Vellas and the Naga came to mind. But the fact that he could conceive of an Atharim with-holding information indicated that it had likely been done- if not by this girl, then by others.
Inwardly, he sighed at this late realization. He had assumed it would be understood. Hunting the gods was paramount. But it had to be done intelligently. One did not kill oneself in fruitless attacks. Those fools who had thought to take down Apollyon in a head on confrontation had earned their reward. But he could see how others might perceive his zeal for hunting down gods. He would need to communicate this to others. Not a blanket amnesty. The new High Inquisitor would continue to need to do his work of keeping the Atharim pure.
But perhaps an edict indicating that if an Atharim had come across a god and was not in a place to do anything about it, that did not, in and of itself, constitute betrayal or treachery. Father Stone's execution was for concealing a god, not simply coming across one.
Not that he would put this girl's mind at ease with any such admission. He knew her kind. Not as a sentient. As a person. Her mouth indicated as much, a flippant, fatalistic attitude. He had once been hunting a drakaina in Monte Carlo, which had necessitated staking out a gambling establishment. The atmosphere of sad desperation and greedy hunger had been cloying. Never before had he felt such a sense of contempt for humanity. At one of the baccarat tables he had watched in fascination as a man doubled down on one bad wager after another, asking for a card again and again from the banker, a fatalist roll of the 'dice'. This girl had an air of that. If he asked her again, he knew her answer would stay the same, regardless of its truth.
In the end, this had been a fruitless hunt for information. He had his assumptions that seemed likely. Her words had neither confirmed nor disproved them. He would have to act regardless.
He lifted his hand from the package and once again picked up the hourglass pendant, changing the subject. "You said Ascendancy pulled this from the ground. I assume your 'secret way' into the quarters of the Ascendancy have something to do with how you acquired this?"