12-16-2025, 08:23 PM
Lucien watched with open curiosity as the unusual communion began, hands clasped in front of him. Mostly, it was Theron’s expression he observed: the hardening of his jaw, as though in endurance; the intensity of his inward concentration. Afterwards Anton lowered himself into a chair, clearly spent of spirit. The Luminar did not move.
Though he listened to the two men discuss the moment, Lucien’s own expression had become deeply thoughtful. He retook his own chair, began carefully and quietly clearing his desk in order to retrieve a leather notebook, which he laid open before him. It was an archaic ritual of recordkeeping, but one he enjoyed for that very reason. The nib of his pen was scratching softly when Theron’s suggestion hung an unspoken weight in the air. One of certain expectations. It softened half a smile to his lips.
They’d known each other too many years for Lucien not to second guess the moment he’d felt Theron’s sharp gaze turned in his direction.
“Not simply fond, Luminar. Committed. However, in this instance I believe I would contaminate the data,” he said, gently placing down his pen. His full attention returned to the moment, and he made a subtle gesture with his gloved hands before his fingers clasped once more. Lucien could not manipulate the veil, but he was not without gifts of his own. Much like Anton, he would not use them unethically. But consent required explanation, and Anton was yet a Seeker – uncertain how long his path would stay with them. “I would recommend one of the Veilwardens, or perhaps the young Aethemancer. Should any of them be willing, of course.”
Lucien’s gaze turned briefly to the man in question, kindly in aspect, before it returned to Theron. There was not an ounce of insubordination, but certainly a gentle guidance. He was not a rash man, and in scholarliness he was ever patient. “The act appears to have taken a toll. Perhaps some refreshment, and an invitation to stay a while longer?” To Anton, he continued. ”I confess curiosity, Anton, if you were amenable to the offer, and an opportunity to further explore this nuance of your gift among like-minded scholars.” The words were spoken without appeal, but in honesty.
Though he listened to the two men discuss the moment, Lucien’s own expression had become deeply thoughtful. He retook his own chair, began carefully and quietly clearing his desk in order to retrieve a leather notebook, which he laid open before him. It was an archaic ritual of recordkeeping, but one he enjoyed for that very reason. The nib of his pen was scratching softly when Theron’s suggestion hung an unspoken weight in the air. One of certain expectations. It softened half a smile to his lips.
They’d known each other too many years for Lucien not to second guess the moment he’d felt Theron’s sharp gaze turned in his direction.
“Not simply fond, Luminar. Committed. However, in this instance I believe I would contaminate the data,” he said, gently placing down his pen. His full attention returned to the moment, and he made a subtle gesture with his gloved hands before his fingers clasped once more. Lucien could not manipulate the veil, but he was not without gifts of his own. Much like Anton, he would not use them unethically. But consent required explanation, and Anton was yet a Seeker – uncertain how long his path would stay with them. “I would recommend one of the Veilwardens, or perhaps the young Aethemancer. Should any of them be willing, of course.”
Lucien’s gaze turned briefly to the man in question, kindly in aspect, before it returned to Theron. There was not an ounce of insubordination, but certainly a gentle guidance. He was not a rash man, and in scholarliness he was ever patient. “The act appears to have taken a toll. Perhaps some refreshment, and an invitation to stay a while longer?” To Anton, he continued. ”I confess curiosity, Anton, if you were amenable to the offer, and an opportunity to further explore this nuance of your gift among like-minded scholars.” The words were spoken without appeal, but in honesty.