06-25-2014, 05:12 PM
Her mind was whirring; she would need time and quiet meditation to align the details clearly in her mind, but for now the shape of a plan was encouraging. Between her own ability to recognise the touch of spirits in others, and Aria's gift of sensing the sincerity of emotion, she was confidant they would form an effective team. It might be slow, and it would probably spit up as yet unseen pitfalls, but for now Tehya was content with the direction they took. She was glad to be doing something positive. She was even more glad to have finally found a tentative balance between her duties and what she was.
She would not ask Aria to betray the confidence of those she had met, and she did not pursue their names. If they had been dangerous she was convinced Aria would have dealt with the situation; since they were not, she had to accept that they were entitled to live their lives peacefully. Perhaps any Aria thought suitable, she might approach in her own way; Tehya was happy to leave that to her: a nod indicated as much. And in any case though godlings were still rare, even in Moscow, she had sensed more fleeting glimpses of them here than she ever had in Montana. The world readied for war indeed.
For the business of the Ijiraq, Tehya welcomed Aria's help, though she was not sure Elias would appreciate the interference. She did not think he wished to see it dead, and until she understood more of its motivations - and so long as it threatened no immediate danger - she was curious to see what happened in the encounter. "The one it spoke to, I think he may be of one of the godlings. He does not know I am of the Atharim, though he is aware we exist. Your friend Connor warned me to be careful."
A wry smile lifted her lips, the first hint of Tehya's sharp humour. There was little ire or reprimand in her voice, though at the time she had been irritated at Aria's loose tongue. New circumstances changed her perspective, and old concerns were quickly let go. Though it set against Tehya's grain to reveal the tattoo on her wrist, of what it meant, she at least now understood Aria's motivations. Particularly since the Spirits had been necessary to kill the creature.
"It promised to come back. I've never even seen one before, let alone..."
A slight incline of her shoulders indicated a shrug. "I wish to study it, if it's even possible. It didn't appear to want to kill him, though I don't think the encounter was painless. He... reached into it. For the time being I think it might be better that he does not know who and what we are."
The last comment gave her brief pause. Father Stone was, frankly, an unimpressive man. Tehya was not shy in her opinions, though she knew when to keep her mouth shut, and it was not fear of speaking out that caused her to hesitate - indeed to contemplate whether to say anything at all. She didn't want to pry; her own personal boundaries were so excruciatingly high that she probably overestimated the importance of privacy. It was the connection she shied away from; the potential rejection if she asked something inappropriate.
But Aria spoke so casually. The man had hit her, drawn blood, and though Tehya had only seen a little of what transpired in the office, it had been enough to drop lead in her stomach, to brush shame into the lines of the tattoo she wore with pride. There were enormous distinctions between Atharim raised in the States, and those closest to the Vatican, but some things were universally wrong. In the end she spoke with her first honest instinct. Aria did not have to answer. "Have they always treated you that way? Father Stone, and the others."
She would not ask Aria to betray the confidence of those she had met, and she did not pursue their names. If they had been dangerous she was convinced Aria would have dealt with the situation; since they were not, she had to accept that they were entitled to live their lives peacefully. Perhaps any Aria thought suitable, she might approach in her own way; Tehya was happy to leave that to her: a nod indicated as much. And in any case though godlings were still rare, even in Moscow, she had sensed more fleeting glimpses of them here than she ever had in Montana. The world readied for war indeed.
For the business of the Ijiraq, Tehya welcomed Aria's help, though she was not sure Elias would appreciate the interference. She did not think he wished to see it dead, and until she understood more of its motivations - and so long as it threatened no immediate danger - she was curious to see what happened in the encounter. "The one it spoke to, I think he may be of one of the godlings. He does not know I am of the Atharim, though he is aware we exist. Your friend Connor warned me to be careful."
A wry smile lifted her lips, the first hint of Tehya's sharp humour. There was little ire or reprimand in her voice, though at the time she had been irritated at Aria's loose tongue. New circumstances changed her perspective, and old concerns were quickly let go. Though it set against Tehya's grain to reveal the tattoo on her wrist, of what it meant, she at least now understood Aria's motivations. Particularly since the Spirits had been necessary to kill the creature.
"It promised to come back. I've never even seen one before, let alone..."
A slight incline of her shoulders indicated a shrug. "I wish to study it, if it's even possible. It didn't appear to want to kill him, though I don't think the encounter was painless. He... reached into it. For the time being I think it might be better that he does not know who and what we are."
The last comment gave her brief pause. Father Stone was, frankly, an unimpressive man. Tehya was not shy in her opinions, though she knew when to keep her mouth shut, and it was not fear of speaking out that caused her to hesitate - indeed to contemplate whether to say anything at all. She didn't want to pry; her own personal boundaries were so excruciatingly high that she probably overestimated the importance of privacy. It was the connection she shied away from; the potential rejection if she asked something inappropriate.
But Aria spoke so casually. The man had hit her, drawn blood, and though Tehya had only seen a little of what transpired in the office, it had been enough to drop lead in her stomach, to brush shame into the lines of the tattoo she wore with pride. There were enormous distinctions between Atharim raised in the States, and those closest to the Vatican, but some things were universally wrong. In the end she spoke with her first honest instinct. Aria did not have to answer. "Have they always treated you that way? Father Stone, and the others."