12-30-2024, 11:27 AM
Cali resolved herself to silence because, ultimately, they were talking about the Veil, and it was not her place to speak before the Luminar about something she had no capacity for. Sámiel’s words had revealed an aptitude she found did not surprise her when she considered it. Back in the Hall she had used the term sceptic to flush him out into participation, not to brand him, as he had assumed. She did not think he was really here looking for proof. Her quiet smile was simply one of patience. He clearly wanted the stage, and she decided that perhaps appeasement was the remedy. With her unbowed, alert attention, Cali gave him his audience.
Quillon spoke it plainly into the chamber: that Sámiel really had Veil Walked, as he’d implied. The note of pride in his voice shifted something uncomfortable inside her, slithering Sámiel’s accusations around in her skull. You feel it, don’t you? The pull, the burn of something just out of reach. She swallowed. But faith meant sacrifice. It did not mean envy.
She was about to look for Mia, to discreetly gather her and the other Seeker up. The Sanctum of Reflection would offer somewhere quieter she could take them; they might have questions, need time to recover, or simply want to talk about what they had seen or felt. Lucien was also usually in the library, should they discover the sound bath had ignited an interest in the scriptures.
But Seraphis was excitedly drawing her to her feet before she had a chance to look for either Seeker. Cali’s smile was one of warmth for the unusually exuberant gesture, assuming at first that it was the Veilwarden who must have felt something profound in the sound bath. But it grew to an expression of utter mystification. “I didn’t,” she said. “I can’t.” Her lilting words were quiet, meant in gentle reminder to Seraphis alone, but of course the room shared them freely.
Quillon spoke it plainly into the chamber: that Sámiel really had Veil Walked, as he’d implied. The note of pride in his voice shifted something uncomfortable inside her, slithering Sámiel’s accusations around in her skull. You feel it, don’t you? The pull, the burn of something just out of reach. She swallowed. But faith meant sacrifice. It did not mean envy.
She was about to look for Mia, to discreetly gather her and the other Seeker up. The Sanctum of Reflection would offer somewhere quieter she could take them; they might have questions, need time to recover, or simply want to talk about what they had seen or felt. Lucien was also usually in the library, should they discover the sound bath had ignited an interest in the scriptures.
But Seraphis was excitedly drawing her to her feet before she had a chance to look for either Seeker. Cali’s smile was one of warmth for the unusually exuberant gesture, assuming at first that it was the Veilwarden who must have felt something profound in the sound bath. But it grew to an expression of utter mystification. “I didn’t,” she said. “I can’t.” Her lilting words were quiet, meant in gentle reminder to Seraphis alone, but of course the room shared them freely.