"I'm sure you do," he says in turn, this time more easily amused, turning his face toward her. "Wanting to admit it has little to do with knowing, love."
Like so many things in his experience, and so many more that he avoids to stay away from the troubles that inevitably followed. His gaze trails back to the front, watching the last few supplicants before them. The one who'd just spoken with the guardians of this place weeps, turned away; the ones to step in after shudder as leaves in an autumn gale.
"Faith is what you make of it." What you don't make of it, too. "Faith in self, or faith in people making strange decisions, or faith in inns having some sort of stew ready for the serving. Worship doesn't need faith. It just needs motivation."
The worship of bodies and lovers, the worship of concepts above all else: the adoration of power. He grimaces as the feel of this place buffets at his lacking defenses, and he wish he were not so aware of his own magic-leaking nature, wondering belatedly if appetites below may find it appealing.
bravely running away
Like so many things in his experience, and so many more that he avoids to stay away from the troubles that inevitably followed. His gaze trails back to the front, watching the last few supplicants before them. The one who'd just spoken with the guardians of this place weeps, turned away; the ones to step in after shudder as leaves in an autumn gale.
"Faith is what you make of it." What you don't make of it, too. "Faith in self, or faith in people making strange decisions, or faith in inns having some sort of stew ready for the serving. Worship doesn't need faith. It just needs motivation."
The worship of bodies and lovers, the worship of concepts above all else: the adoration of power. He grimaces as the feel of this place buffets at his lacking defenses, and he wish he were not so aware of his own magic-leaking nature, wondering belatedly if appetites below may find it appealing.
Surely not?
They always are.