No, [Myr likewise acknowledges. It doesn't help very much, but a little bit is something and gratitude is engrained in his bones. Gratitude and--odd sympathy, in this case, though his own grief is doubtless a spark against an Ascian bonfire.
But let that be. He surrenders his watch without complaint as it's taken, and settle back in the chair for...
A wholly unexpected lecture?
His expression goes from a general downcast look to one of puzzlement to...very visible restraint, as his ears flick back and he bites his lower lip. The fur on his neck is even fluffed out, and no doubt he smells irritated to a Dragon's sharp senses, but--he is listening. He's still enough a student to respond to a teacher, and pay attention to what he's being taught, even if he vehemently disagrees with it.
Even if some of his time is spent trying, and failing, to think up a scything rebuttal to Lahabrea's explanation. An orderly argument based on Thedosian principles of nature, which didn't and hadn't ever held for the Ascian's world (his star) any more than they had for Talam, would fall flat. Arguing from the Maker's fiat was also a non-starter with something near-godlike, who'd already critiqued Myr's Creator in the past.
So, instead, perhaps it's easier to simply explain his own reluctance. He breathes out slowly.]
I--for the case of the watch, I don't object to you using your own blood as material for it. It...sits oddly with me, I'll confess, but I know it's in a Dragon's nature to grant boons that way.
[But as for the rest...]
I've made no study of blood magic beyond what we're all told about its evils, messere. I don't know how intent bears on use or whether willing or unwilling blood matters--though the very greatest atrocity committed in history used the blood of tortured slaves. [Thus there was a certain evil echo about the whole practice that he and any other Andrastian picked up nearly with mother's milk.] But I do know that any use of it weakens the Veil and brings the Fade closer to the waking world, and with it a threat that demons might cross. Even if they're no more than predators, rather than willing evils--blood magic puts anyone near it at risk.
And, [a sigh,] the one use of it the Chantry does authorize is--contentious. A mage's blood can always be used to find her, so in the Circles--where I was raised and trained--they make phylacteries from us, against the chance of our escape.
[While he'd oft defended the practice against Libertarian arguments, good Chantry boy that he was, he'd never done it whole-heartedly. It still felt wrong. It would always feel wrong, even if he could tell himself it was because of a contravention of the ban on blood magic rather than the hold it gave the Templar Order over them.]
no subject
But let that be. He surrenders his watch without complaint as it's taken, and settle back in the chair for...
A wholly unexpected lecture?
His expression goes from a general downcast look to one of puzzlement to...very visible restraint, as his ears flick back and he bites his lower lip. The fur on his neck is even fluffed out, and no doubt he smells irritated to a Dragon's sharp senses, but--he is listening. He's still enough a student to respond to a teacher, and pay attention to what he's being taught, even if he vehemently disagrees with it.
Even if some of his time is spent trying, and failing, to think up a scything rebuttal to Lahabrea's explanation. An orderly argument based on Thedosian principles of nature, which didn't and hadn't ever held for the Ascian's world (his star) any more than they had for Talam, would fall flat. Arguing from the Maker's fiat was also a non-starter with something near-godlike, who'd already critiqued Myr's Creator in the past.
So, instead, perhaps it's easier to simply explain his own reluctance. He breathes out slowly.]
I--for the case of the watch, I don't object to you using your own blood as material for it. It...sits oddly with me, I'll confess, but I know it's in a Dragon's nature to grant boons that way.
[But as for the rest...]
I've made no study of blood magic beyond what we're all told about its evils, messere. I don't know how intent bears on use or whether willing or unwilling blood matters--though the very greatest atrocity committed in history used the blood of tortured slaves. [Thus there was a certain evil echo about the whole practice that he and any other Andrastian picked up nearly with mother's milk.] But I do know that any use of it weakens the Veil and brings the Fade closer to the waking world, and with it a threat that demons might cross. Even if they're no more than predators, rather than willing evils--blood magic puts anyone near it at risk.
And, [a sigh,] the one use of it the Chantry does authorize is--contentious. A mage's blood can always be used to find her, so in the Circles--where I was raised and trained--they make phylacteries from us, against the chance of our escape.
[While he'd oft defended the practice against Libertarian arguments, good Chantry boy that he was, he'd never done it whole-heartedly. It still felt wrong. It would always feel wrong, even if he could tell himself it was because of a contravention of the ban on blood magic rather than the hold it gave the Templar Order over them.]