Ah yes. Embellishments, and religious indoctrination. Raine was not unfamiliar with such things, and she did not miss that bitterness.
She listened, and thought, and even when Solomon had clearly done speaking she was silent for some time, mulling it over. There were fewer parallels than she had initially thought there might be, but nevertheless the story he told had some familiarity to it. Not in the details of events, but rather in style, in the way it blurred the line between lore and myth and history, the way there was clearly more to it than Solomon was saying, perhaps simply because there were gaps in his own knowledge.
Raine took a deep breath. Held it for a moment. "Once upon a time," she said, finally, "there was a great tree that was the source of all mana. A war, however, caused this tree to wither away, and a hero's life was sacrificed in order to take its place." Her words had a particular hollow cadence to them, as if they were something learned by rote that she herself did not much care for.
She turned her free hand over, palm up, and gave a small grimace. The measuredness of her speech fell away as she moved on. "That is to say, lost history is something with which I can sympathize. From which era do you come, if I may? And which option do you prefer?"
no subject
She listened, and thought, and even when Solomon had clearly done speaking she was silent for some time, mulling it over. There were fewer parallels than she had initially thought there might be, but nevertheless the story he told had some familiarity to it. Not in the details of events, but rather in style, in the way it blurred the line between lore and myth and history, the way there was clearly more to it than Solomon was saying, perhaps simply because there were gaps in his own knowledge.
Raine took a deep breath. Held it for a moment. "Once upon a time," she said, finally, "there was a great tree that was the source of all mana. A war, however, caused this tree to wither away, and a hero's life was sacrificed in order to take its place." Her words had a particular hollow cadence to them, as if they were something learned by rote that she herself did not much care for.
She turned her free hand over, palm up, and gave a small grimace. The measuredness of her speech fell away as she moved on. "That is to say, lost history is something with which I can sympathize. From which era do you come, if I may? And which option do you prefer?"