06-25-2014, 03:13 PM
Tension corded her muscles, but eased at Aria's calm reaction. She closed her palm, and the flame winked out. The Spirits whispered away in the same second, darkening the brief crystal clarity of her vision. Her confession was strangely liberating, the freedom of it, the honesty. Aria now knew more of her than any in the CCD, and it should frighten her - betrayal did not, after all, always constitute a choice - but she only felt a weary peace. A smile flickered across her lips, perhaps because she knew for a fact, thanks to Connor, that Aria had not been so circumspect in hiding her Atharim identity, and so the revelation did not surprise her. At least, by her reaction now, Tehya assumed she had not extinguished the gods she had met.
It reminded her of her own questions still waiting to be asked, but Elias and his Ijiraq would need to wait.
She was surprised to receive the letter, and it fluttered across her expression, loosening its intensity to something more human. In trust we share. She read, and though the personal nature of it twisted a little discomfort in her stomach, she finished to the end. Sentient. She'd said enough, she thought, to convey her opinion on the Atharim's treatment of otherness within its own ranks, so she said nothing further, but a muscle worked in her jaw. You mean he sends you to suicide. She placed the letter delicately back on the desk in front of her, wondering if Aria found the knowledge precious or a burden, but disinclined anyway to leave any mark on the paper.
"I could teach, I think. For our prospective allies to be safe. And sometimes I can recognise the ability in others. I can help find them."
For speaking what amounted to heresy, she felt calm. If she were outed as consequence of this risky plan, even if their end goals were met, Tehya would be left with nothing. Without the Atharim her life was a void, filled with nothing and no-one. She was aware for the potential for sacrifice, but it did not stop her; testament to how thoroughly she had been trained. "But. I don't know that I can convince others as to why they should... rebel against the Ascendancy. Aria, we must be very careful that in doing this, we do not aid the start of war."
The concern pressed lines into her brow.
It reminded her of her own questions still waiting to be asked, but Elias and his Ijiraq would need to wait.
She was surprised to receive the letter, and it fluttered across her expression, loosening its intensity to something more human. In trust we share. She read, and though the personal nature of it twisted a little discomfort in her stomach, she finished to the end. Sentient. She'd said enough, she thought, to convey her opinion on the Atharim's treatment of otherness within its own ranks, so she said nothing further, but a muscle worked in her jaw. You mean he sends you to suicide. She placed the letter delicately back on the desk in front of her, wondering if Aria found the knowledge precious or a burden, but disinclined anyway to leave any mark on the paper.
"I could teach, I think. For our prospective allies to be safe. And sometimes I can recognise the ability in others. I can help find them."
For speaking what amounted to heresy, she felt calm. If she were outed as consequence of this risky plan, even if their end goals were met, Tehya would be left with nothing. Without the Atharim her life was a void, filled with nothing and no-one. She was aware for the potential for sacrifice, but it did not stop her; testament to how thoroughly she had been trained. "But. I don't know that I can convince others as to why they should... rebel against the Ascendancy. Aria, we must be very careful that in doing this, we do not aid the start of war."
The concern pressed lines into her brow.