[ He gives a mock ooooh of pain as Bastien nips at him, and shakes out his hand. As he does, he reflects that it's odd he didn't know this before. Why didn't he know this before? Bastien certainly didn't tell him, he's certain of that. Why not? For a moment, his mind leaps to scandalous possibilities - a family of brigands, on the run from Marcher law...
But - no. Bastien hides his name, too, and Byerly is nearly certain that there's no ring of the mythic or the wicked to that name. If By dug, he wouldn't uncover the secret history of a blood mage, or a god cloaked in mortal form. Sometimes, there doesn't really need to be a reason. Sometimes, you just don't want to be yourself. Especially not when you were once a child who slipped in Orlesian words when you didn't know the Trade - or vice versa - who got knocked down by the village kids for being different. And especially when you didn't have the privilege of noble blood protecting you from kicks following that knock-down.
They're different people, he and Bastien. Byerly trumpets all the ways in which he's despicable and low and hatable, taunts others with them. Maybe Bastien hides the things that have hurt him. Probably a safer strategy in the long run. ]
As it is my right to rise up to resist you, tyrant. [ His voice is light and amused, as unconcerned as if Bastien had said my parents were both left-handed. ] Which part of the Marches did they come from? If they ever told you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-10-31 02:28 pm (UTC)But - no. Bastien hides his name, too, and Byerly is nearly certain that there's no ring of the mythic or the wicked to that name. If By dug, he wouldn't uncover the secret history of a blood mage, or a god cloaked in mortal form. Sometimes, there doesn't really need to be a reason. Sometimes, you just don't want to be yourself. Especially not when you were once a child who slipped in Orlesian words when you didn't know the Trade - or vice versa - who got knocked down by the village kids for being different. And especially when you didn't have the privilege of noble blood protecting you from kicks following that knock-down.
They're different people, he and Bastien. Byerly trumpets all the ways in which he's despicable and low and hatable, taunts others with them. Maybe Bastien hides the things that have hurt him. Probably a safer strategy in the long run. ]
As it is my right to rise up to resist you, tyrant. [ His voice is light and amused, as unconcerned as if Bastien had said my parents were both left-handed. ] Which part of the Marches did they come from? If they ever told you.