[Tavi is momentarily confronted with the mental image of his Fade spirit, uh, colleague, taking the shape of some little Orlesian puffball of a dog trotting along at his heels, and bursts out laughing. it's a tearful sound, but it's genuine, and almost cathartic.]
Oh, Maker, no, nothing like that. But I can call upon it through the Veil when spellcasting. It lends me its abilities to augment my magic. That's, [just imagine a vague little hand gesture,] that's how it works.
I can, [he says, in the same way someone might say that they can, theoretically, do a handstand while drunk. they just probably shouldn't.] It's... I suppose you could call it a friend, but it's still a spirit. Communicating directly always comes with, um. Risks. Even with the benevolent ones.
[risks of the demonic possession variety, he does not say, and rather hopes he doesn't have to. still,] But I've known this one for over ten years now, and it's never shown any interest in the physical world when we've spoken in the past. And if it could help us find Benedict's--[he swallows and forges on,] ...Benedict's remains, I'm willing to take that risk.
[blurted out before he can think better of saying it, of embarrassing himself so tremendously before a man he barely knows and yet trusts so implicitly nevertheless.
then, resigned and quiet,]
Sorry. You're right. Of course, you're right, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm not--I'm not thinking very clearly.
[marshalling his composure,] Thank you for telling me. I should--[he looks at his books without really seeing them,]--get back to work.
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Oh, Maker, no, nothing like that. But I can call upon it through the Veil when spellcasting. It lends me its abilities to augment my magic. That's, [just imagine a vague little hand gesture,] that's how it works.
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Hm. And you can speak to it, as well?
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I can, [he says, in the same way someone might say that they can, theoretically, do a handstand while drunk. they just probably shouldn't.] It's... I suppose you could call it a friend, but it's still a spirit. Communicating directly always comes with, um. Risks. Even with the benevolent ones.
[risks of the demonic possession variety, he does not say, and rather hopes he doesn't have to. still,] But I've known this one for over ten years now, and it's never shown any interest in the physical world when we've spoken in the past. And if it could help us find Benedict's--[he swallows and forges on,] ...Benedict's remains, I'm willing to take that risk.
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[ Byerly's throat tightens as he says it. He desperately wants to say yes, to push the lad to find out the truth. ]
It is not worth it.
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[blurted out before he can think better of saying it, of embarrassing himself so tremendously before a man he barely knows and yet trusts so implicitly nevertheless.
then, resigned and quiet,]
Sorry. You're right. Of course, you're right, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm not--I'm not thinking very clearly.
[marshalling his composure,] Thank you for telling me. I should--[he looks at his books without really seeing them,]--get back to work.