![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalinara posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
i_read_whatSo last time, Alec and Seregil made an ally out of an old adversary, of sorts. And Seregil didn't even have to wear a dress this time!
So we get time passing, some month going into another month. They have names, but I don't pay attention to that. It's getting fucking cold though. And everyone's preparing for war. There are rumors of Plenimarian press gangs and keels laid down in their ship yards. Rhiminee's building up their own forces too. Rhal's ship is progressing rapidly.
He's keeping quiet about the name though. But he's recruiting sailors.
Alec's doing well: he's getting used to playing nobleman and isn't nearly as awkward anymore. He likes the thief lessons better of course, but who wouldn't? He's definitely liking the amenities at Wheel Street though. Remember, the poor kid basically spent most of his life living off the land up north. Hunting, trapping, and being really fucking cold during the winter.
Here, fires burned at all hours against the ever-present damp and cold. Thick carpets covered the floors, food and wine were there for the asking, and warm baths—for which he had finally acquired a taste—could be had at any hour in a special room just down the hall. Some of his fondest memories of those days would be sitting by a snug fire on a stormy day, enjoying the sound of the rain lashing against the shutters.
Aw, that sounds comfy.
The mentor/student relationship is going well too. Alec even tries to return the favor by teaching Seregil archery. That's not quite as successful.
Now, Alec wants to know about the Great War. He heard someone talk about it at a salon. Seregil doesn't have many books about it, but Oreska does, so they decide to go visit. While getting there, they spot familiar faces:
Following his nod, Seregil saw Thero and Ylinesrra walking along arm and arm. As they watched, Thero threw his head back and let out a genuine laugh.
“Thero laughing?” Seregil whispered in amazement.
Alec watched as the pair disappeared down a corridor. “Do you think he’s in love with her?”
“He probably is, the poor idiot. Or maybe she’s magicked him.”
He’d meant it as a joke on Thero, but Alec’s sudden blush made him wish he’d kept it to himself.
The boy never spoke of his own apparently cataclysmic tryst with the sorceress, or betrayed any sign of jealousy when speculating on her other attachments, but he was rather brittle about the circumstances.
...yeah. Well, at least Seregil's exercising some sensitivity.
So they go to Nysander's tower, where they're greeted by Magyana. Nysander's out visiting the astrologer. Apparently this is a new thing for him, likely alongside being cryptic and kind of a dick to his apprentice.
Magyana seems pretty worried about Nysander though, and mentions that he seems very worn-out all of a sudden. She asks them to look in on him when they get a chance, and even asks if they've been fighting.
A sudden image leapt in Seregil’s mind; the night they’d unraveled the palimpsest together, and Nysander suddenly looking at him with a stranger’s eyes as he warned—if you let slip the slightest detail of what I am about to tell you, I shall have to kill all of you.
He pushed the memory away before it could show in his face. “No, of course not. What would I be angry about?”
I mean, that seems like a reasonable thing to be annoyed about. Nysander is really kind of a terrible mentor.
Anyway, they head for the library. Though it's a bit more complicated than expected. I really like this exchange:
“The Oreska library is actually scattered all over the building,” Seregil explained as they went. “Chambers, vaults, closets, forgotten cupboards, too, probably. Thalonia has been the librarian for a century and I doubt even she knows where everything is. Some books are available to anyone, others are locked away.”
“Why, are they valuable?” asked Alec, thinking of the beautifully decorated scrolls Nysander had lent him.
“All books are valuable. Some are dangerous.” “Books of spells, you mean?”
Seregil grinned. “Those, too, but I was thinking more of ideas. Those can be far more dangerous than any magic.”
Hah, I'd bet.
Alec takes a moment to look at the hands of the "dyrmagos". That's the lich type person that was mentioned last book. The hands still move, which freaks Alec out. He asks why they're still moving: aren't the pieces supposed to be dying?
I'd assume it takes a while for pieces of a lich to die, but Seregil is actually frowning at the hands as he agrees. So maybe they SHOULD be more dead than they are?
So this part of the library is pretty fucking big. Alec is dismayed: he can't possibly read all these books. Seregil agrees, many aren't even in his language, and most of the others are really really boring. But Seregil can find him a few that are readable.
Honestly, the fact that Alec can read a scholarly text at all, considering that he only just learned to read in the first book, is pretty impressive.
Alec, curious himself, ends up causing a minor mishap when pulling out the wrong book. It's funny but not catastrophic. He does end up unearthing something pretty interesting: a plainly bound book, with a catch on it that's too corroded to open. Seregil figures that it's probably not very interesting anyway.
Well, or so he says:
He gave Alec a challenging grin, one Alec had seen often enough before. “What, here?” he whispered in surprise.
Seregil leaned against a bookcase and gave a careless shrug. “It’s not much good to anyone that way, is it?”
After a quick, rather guilty look around to make sure the custodian hadn’t returned, Alec drew the black-handled poniard from his boot and worked it under the strap. The deadly sharp blade cut easily through the leather. Sheathing it again, he gently opened the cover and found a loose sheaf of parchment leaves inside. They were badly stained and scorched along the bottom edge, some burned half away.
It's in Aurenfaie, and very weathered. Alec can't really make it out, but Seregil is pretty curious. He hurries it home with the books for Alec. Later he identifies it as fragments of a field journal made by an Aurenfaie soldier during the war: an eyewitness account!
There are some cool bits: the dude's an archer, he actually met Queen Gerilain ("a plain girl in armor"). Alec imagines Klia, though Klia isn't plain. There's an intriguing line about "necromancers of the enemy" but the rest of the page is destroyed.
Seregil does find another reference though. So this is an eye-witness account of rising dead men in the field. Things get tense suddenly though when Seregil reads the wrong bit outloud:
“We’ve heard this account too often now to call him mad,” Seregil read on. “The Skalan captain claims Plenimar has a terrible war god. We have heard wounded enemies calling upon Vatharna. Now learn this is their word for god even they will not name. Nor will Skalans speak it, saying instead with great hatred, Eater of—“
He faltered to a halt.
“Eater of Death!” Alec finished for him, scrambling up to his knees. “That’s it, isn’t it? Just like in the prophecy at the Sakor Temple. We’ve got to find Nysander. The Eater of Death must be that death god you told me about, the bad luck one, Seri—“
Seregil lunged forward, pages scattering as he clamped a hand over Alec’s mouth.
You could have just not read that part out loud, dude.
Seregil's having a bit of an episode though:
Seregil felt as if a black chasm had suddenly opened beneath them. Seriamaius.
— if you let slip the slightest detail of what I am about to tell you, I shall have to kill all of you — join our song, the only song. For the Beautiful One, the Eater of Death—
For an instant the only thing that made any sense was the solid feel of Alec’s shoulder, the warm brush of the boy’s hair as it fell across the back of his hand.
Memories crowded in on each other, treading dangerously on each other’s heels as they threatened to coalesce into a pattern he didn’t wish to see.
The palimpsest, telling of a “Beautiful One” and leading to a crown surrounded by the dead. Micum’s grim discovery in the Fens. The ragged leather pouch that Nysander had burned. And the coin, that deceptively prosaic wooden disk that had nearly killed him with madness and dreams-dreams of a barren plain and a golden-skinned creature that embraced him, demanding a single blue eye that winked from a wound over his heart. Voices singing-over a barren plain, and deep in the depths of a mountain cavern as blood dripped down to pool on the ice. Nysander’s threat—a warning?
“Seregil, that hurts.”
I still don't quite get why Nysander doesn't just swear Micum and Alec in too. Alec at least is going to find out, I'm sure, given that he's a main character of the book.
Alec is more concerned than frightened. He asks what's wrong.
“I can’t tell you, tali, because I’d only have to lie,” he said, suddenly dejected. “I’m going to do something now, and you’re going to watch and say nothing.”
Taking the final page of the manuscript, he twisted it into a tight squib and tossed it into the fire. Alec rocked back on his heels, watching in silent consternation as the parchment blossomed into flame. When it was consumed, Seregil knocked the ash to bits with the poker. “But what about Nysander?” Alec asked. “What will you tell him?”
“Nothing, and neither will you.” “But—“
“We’re not betraying him.” Seregil took Alec by the shoulders, more gently this time, drawing their faces close together. “You have my oath on that. I believe he already knows what we just learned, but he can’t know that you know. Not until I tell you it’s safe. Understand?”
Seregil is so fucking dramatic.
Alec is unhappy about the secrets, but...
“Yes, more secrets. I need your trust in this, Alec. Can you give it?”
Alec looked sidelong at the fire for a long moment, then locked eyes with him again and replied in halting Aurenfaie, “Rei phoril tos tokun meh brithir, vri sh ‘ruit ‘ya.”
Though you thrust your dagger at my eyes, I will not flinch. A solemn oath, and one Seregil had pledged him not so long ago.
Aw, Seregil shoos him off to go have a look at the books they found. Before he goes, Alec asks what "tali" means:
“What does tali mean? Is it Aurenfaie?”
“Tali?” A ghost of the old grin tugged at one corner of Seregil’s mouth. “Yes, it’s an Aurenfaie term of endearment, rather old-fashioned, like beloved. Where’d you pick that up?”
Ahem. Seregil doesn't have the advantage of my recaps, but you do. So...yeah. Alec regards him quizzically, then merely says that he must have picked it up at a salon.
Seregil then of course decides to stare out into space dramatically, because of course he does. Bards.
Days pass, and Alec realizes they're not going to talk about the matter again. The journal/Nysander he means, not the other part. Alec may be just compartmentalizing that to process later. Or he genuinely believes that it was an accidental slip and not related to him. It's hard to tell with Alec sometimes. He ends up asking Seregil about loyalty in general. Seregil understands what he's asking right away:
“Loyalty, eh? That’s a large question for a thinking person. If you’re asking if I’m still loyal to Nysander, then the answer is yes, for as long as I have faith in his honor. The same goes for any of my friends.”
“But do you still have faith in him?” Alec pressed.
“I do, though he hasn’t made it easy lately. You’re too smart not to have noticed that there are unspoken things between him and me. I’m trying hard to be patient about all that, and so must you. But maybe that’s not the real issue here. Are you losing faith in me?”
“No!” Alec exclaimed hastily, knowing the words were true as he spoke them. “I’m just trying to understand.”
Seregil decides to give an opaque object lesson: everyone's loyal to the Queen right? What if the Queen ordered them to harm Micum. Because Micum committed some treason against Skala. Endearingly, Alec is immediately defensive of Micum. But what if the treason was to protect his family or something.
I take special note of this part:
“Certainly. Any man ought to hold his family above all else. But what if his justified act of treason cost hundreds of other families their lives? And what if some of those killed were also friends of ours—Myrhini, Cilia, Thero. Well, maybe not Thero—“
Aw, I'm starting to think the whole Seregil-Thero rivalry, on both sides, masks very different feelings. Brothers are complicated sometimes.
Anyway, the hypothetical really quickly goes far too far afield. Seregil starts to press the idea of what if Alec had to kill Micum, if it was a choice between Queen's justice or a mercifully quick death, what if-
Poor, practical Alec is utterly bewildered. I don't think he really got the point of the lesson. I did though: Nysander's a dick.
--
Chapter Eleven is very short, so I'll add this here.
So now we're hanging with Nysander. He's gazing at the hands, which are moving more often now. He notes how old his reflection looks, then starts descending into the vaults. He has a history here:
He’d wooed Magyana here in the days of their youth.
When she’d remained obdurate in her celibacy, they had continued to share long discussions as they wandered along these narrow stone corridors. Seregil had often come with them during his ill-starred apprenticeship, asking a thousand questions and poking into everything.
Thero came with him occasionally, though less often than he once had. Did Ylinestra bring him down here to make love, Mysander wondered, as she had him?
By the Four, she’d warmed the very stones with her relentless passion!
He shook his head in bemusement as he imagined her with Thero; a sunbird embracing a crow.
He’d never completely trusted the sorceress.
Apparently he's actually tried to talk to Thero about his concerns, but Thero wasn't really on board.
This bit annoys me.
Other wizards might have dismissed an assistant over such a matter, he knew, yet in spite of their growing differences, Nysander still felt a strong regard for Thero and refused to give up on him.
I don't know, dude. That regard once led you to tell a 16 year old stranger that you didn't particularly like your apprentice?
But there's more to it:
nd mixed with that regard, he admitted once again in the silence of the vaults, was the fear that many of his fellows in the Oreska would be glad to take on Thero if he let him go. Many were critical of Nysander’s handling of the talented young wizard, and thought Thero was wasted on the eccentric old man in the east tower. After all, he’d ruined one apprentice already, hadn’t he? Small wonder Thero seemed discontent.
If it helps dude, I am also critical of your handling of Thero. Especially after THIS bullshit:
But more than a keen mind and flawless ability were needed to make so powerful a wizard as Thero would undoubtedly become. Ungoverned by wisdom, patience, and a compassionate heart, that same keen mind would be capable of unspeakable havoc.
So he kept Thero with him, hopeful to change him, fearful to let him go. There were moments, such as the night he found him tending to Seregil’s injuries after the misadventure in the sewers, when Nysander caught a gleam of hope—signs that Thero might be coming to understand what it was that Nysander was asking of him beyond the mere learning of magic.
...forgive my utter fury here. But you're doubting Thero's "compassionate heart"?
THERO WENT TO PRISON FOR SEREGIL. HE SWITCHED BODIES WITH HIM. WILLINGLY. FOR NO THANKS OR REWARD.
When did YOU go to prison for anyone?!
Not compassionate enough, my ass.
And you know what isn't clear about this whole insulting monologue? Whether or not Nysander has ever TOLD his student what he wanted from him! Maybe he'd be willing to learn to be more expressive if he knew that's what Nysander wanted!
I've said this before, but if Thero did decide to betray Nysander, I'm not sure I'd blame him.
But now it's time for Nysander to think about his favorite son instead. He still can't understand how Seregil survived his exposure to the disk. He also is mystified by the fact that his spells were so little protection against the crown that Seregil brought back. In one case, Seregil was more durable, in the other, more vulnerable than he thought.
Time for more crypticness, as Nysander goes to muse about some sort of bowl that apparently has been really important to the "Guardians" (of which Nysander is fourth). He fights some temptation to do something with the artifacts, which are apparently "fragments" of some greater whole. This freaks him out. And so he decides to whine about it:
Whom did he share it with? No one. Seregil could have been trusted, but the magic had failed him. Thero had the magic, but lacked—what?
Humility, Nysander decided sadly. The humility to properly fear the power contained in this tiny, silver-lined chamber. The more apparent Thero’s abilities became over the years of his apprenticeship, the more certain Nysander was that temptation would be his undoing. Temptation and pride.
It might not be so bad if Thero ever got a chance to defend himself against this bullshit. But nope, Nysander's just going to play wise mentor, while clearly favoring Thero's failed predecessor, bad-mouthing him to random strangers, and so on.
#TeamThero. Just saying.
Oh, and the chapter ends with Nysander angsting. Fuck that dude.
So we get time passing, some month going into another month. They have names, but I don't pay attention to that. It's getting fucking cold though. And everyone's preparing for war. There are rumors of Plenimarian press gangs and keels laid down in their ship yards. Rhiminee's building up their own forces too. Rhal's ship is progressing rapidly.
He's keeping quiet about the name though. But he's recruiting sailors.
Alec's doing well: he's getting used to playing nobleman and isn't nearly as awkward anymore. He likes the thief lessons better of course, but who wouldn't? He's definitely liking the amenities at Wheel Street though. Remember, the poor kid basically spent most of his life living off the land up north. Hunting, trapping, and being really fucking cold during the winter.
Here, fires burned at all hours against the ever-present damp and cold. Thick carpets covered the floors, food and wine were there for the asking, and warm baths—for which he had finally acquired a taste—could be had at any hour in a special room just down the hall. Some of his fondest memories of those days would be sitting by a snug fire on a stormy day, enjoying the sound of the rain lashing against the shutters.
Aw, that sounds comfy.
The mentor/student relationship is going well too. Alec even tries to return the favor by teaching Seregil archery. That's not quite as successful.
Now, Alec wants to know about the Great War. He heard someone talk about it at a salon. Seregil doesn't have many books about it, but Oreska does, so they decide to go visit. While getting there, they spot familiar faces:
Following his nod, Seregil saw Thero and Ylinesrra walking along arm and arm. As they watched, Thero threw his head back and let out a genuine laugh.
“Thero laughing?” Seregil whispered in amazement.
Alec watched as the pair disappeared down a corridor. “Do you think he’s in love with her?”
“He probably is, the poor idiot. Or maybe she’s magicked him.”
He’d meant it as a joke on Thero, but Alec’s sudden blush made him wish he’d kept it to himself.
The boy never spoke of his own apparently cataclysmic tryst with the sorceress, or betrayed any sign of jealousy when speculating on her other attachments, but he was rather brittle about the circumstances.
...yeah. Well, at least Seregil's exercising some sensitivity.
So they go to Nysander's tower, where they're greeted by Magyana. Nysander's out visiting the astrologer. Apparently this is a new thing for him, likely alongside being cryptic and kind of a dick to his apprentice.
Magyana seems pretty worried about Nysander though, and mentions that he seems very worn-out all of a sudden. She asks them to look in on him when they get a chance, and even asks if they've been fighting.
A sudden image leapt in Seregil’s mind; the night they’d unraveled the palimpsest together, and Nysander suddenly looking at him with a stranger’s eyes as he warned—if you let slip the slightest detail of what I am about to tell you, I shall have to kill all of you.
He pushed the memory away before it could show in his face. “No, of course not. What would I be angry about?”
I mean, that seems like a reasonable thing to be annoyed about. Nysander is really kind of a terrible mentor.
Anyway, they head for the library. Though it's a bit more complicated than expected. I really like this exchange:
“The Oreska library is actually scattered all over the building,” Seregil explained as they went. “Chambers, vaults, closets, forgotten cupboards, too, probably. Thalonia has been the librarian for a century and I doubt even she knows where everything is. Some books are available to anyone, others are locked away.”
“Why, are they valuable?” asked Alec, thinking of the beautifully decorated scrolls Nysander had lent him.
“All books are valuable. Some are dangerous.” “Books of spells, you mean?”
Seregil grinned. “Those, too, but I was thinking more of ideas. Those can be far more dangerous than any magic.”
Hah, I'd bet.
Alec takes a moment to look at the hands of the "dyrmagos". That's the lich type person that was mentioned last book. The hands still move, which freaks Alec out. He asks why they're still moving: aren't the pieces supposed to be dying?
I'd assume it takes a while for pieces of a lich to die, but Seregil is actually frowning at the hands as he agrees. So maybe they SHOULD be more dead than they are?
So this part of the library is pretty fucking big. Alec is dismayed: he can't possibly read all these books. Seregil agrees, many aren't even in his language, and most of the others are really really boring. But Seregil can find him a few that are readable.
Honestly, the fact that Alec can read a scholarly text at all, considering that he only just learned to read in the first book, is pretty impressive.
Alec, curious himself, ends up causing a minor mishap when pulling out the wrong book. It's funny but not catastrophic. He does end up unearthing something pretty interesting: a plainly bound book, with a catch on it that's too corroded to open. Seregil figures that it's probably not very interesting anyway.
Well, or so he says:
He gave Alec a challenging grin, one Alec had seen often enough before. “What, here?” he whispered in surprise.
Seregil leaned against a bookcase and gave a careless shrug. “It’s not much good to anyone that way, is it?”
After a quick, rather guilty look around to make sure the custodian hadn’t returned, Alec drew the black-handled poniard from his boot and worked it under the strap. The deadly sharp blade cut easily through the leather. Sheathing it again, he gently opened the cover and found a loose sheaf of parchment leaves inside. They were badly stained and scorched along the bottom edge, some burned half away.
It's in Aurenfaie, and very weathered. Alec can't really make it out, but Seregil is pretty curious. He hurries it home with the books for Alec. Later he identifies it as fragments of a field journal made by an Aurenfaie soldier during the war: an eyewitness account!
There are some cool bits: the dude's an archer, he actually met Queen Gerilain ("a plain girl in armor"). Alec imagines Klia, though Klia isn't plain. There's an intriguing line about "necromancers of the enemy" but the rest of the page is destroyed.
Seregil does find another reference though. So this is an eye-witness account of rising dead men in the field. Things get tense suddenly though when Seregil reads the wrong bit outloud:
“We’ve heard this account too often now to call him mad,” Seregil read on. “The Skalan captain claims Plenimar has a terrible war god. We have heard wounded enemies calling upon Vatharna. Now learn this is their word for god even they will not name. Nor will Skalans speak it, saying instead with great hatred, Eater of—“
He faltered to a halt.
“Eater of Death!” Alec finished for him, scrambling up to his knees. “That’s it, isn’t it? Just like in the prophecy at the Sakor Temple. We’ve got to find Nysander. The Eater of Death must be that death god you told me about, the bad luck one, Seri—“
Seregil lunged forward, pages scattering as he clamped a hand over Alec’s mouth.
You could have just not read that part out loud, dude.
Seregil's having a bit of an episode though:
Seregil felt as if a black chasm had suddenly opened beneath them. Seriamaius.
— if you let slip the slightest detail of what I am about to tell you, I shall have to kill all of you — join our song, the only song. For the Beautiful One, the Eater of Death—
For an instant the only thing that made any sense was the solid feel of Alec’s shoulder, the warm brush of the boy’s hair as it fell across the back of his hand.
Memories crowded in on each other, treading dangerously on each other’s heels as they threatened to coalesce into a pattern he didn’t wish to see.
The palimpsest, telling of a “Beautiful One” and leading to a crown surrounded by the dead. Micum’s grim discovery in the Fens. The ragged leather pouch that Nysander had burned. And the coin, that deceptively prosaic wooden disk that had nearly killed him with madness and dreams-dreams of a barren plain and a golden-skinned creature that embraced him, demanding a single blue eye that winked from a wound over his heart. Voices singing-over a barren plain, and deep in the depths of a mountain cavern as blood dripped down to pool on the ice. Nysander’s threat—a warning?
“Seregil, that hurts.”
I still don't quite get why Nysander doesn't just swear Micum and Alec in too. Alec at least is going to find out, I'm sure, given that he's a main character of the book.
Alec is more concerned than frightened. He asks what's wrong.
“I can’t tell you, tali, because I’d only have to lie,” he said, suddenly dejected. “I’m going to do something now, and you’re going to watch and say nothing.”
Taking the final page of the manuscript, he twisted it into a tight squib and tossed it into the fire. Alec rocked back on his heels, watching in silent consternation as the parchment blossomed into flame. When it was consumed, Seregil knocked the ash to bits with the poker. “But what about Nysander?” Alec asked. “What will you tell him?”
“Nothing, and neither will you.” “But—“
“We’re not betraying him.” Seregil took Alec by the shoulders, more gently this time, drawing their faces close together. “You have my oath on that. I believe he already knows what we just learned, but he can’t know that you know. Not until I tell you it’s safe. Understand?”
Seregil is so fucking dramatic.
Alec is unhappy about the secrets, but...
“Yes, more secrets. I need your trust in this, Alec. Can you give it?”
Alec looked sidelong at the fire for a long moment, then locked eyes with him again and replied in halting Aurenfaie, “Rei phoril tos tokun meh brithir, vri sh ‘ruit ‘ya.”
Though you thrust your dagger at my eyes, I will not flinch. A solemn oath, and one Seregil had pledged him not so long ago.
Aw, Seregil shoos him off to go have a look at the books they found. Before he goes, Alec asks what "tali" means:
“What does tali mean? Is it Aurenfaie?”
“Tali?” A ghost of the old grin tugged at one corner of Seregil’s mouth. “Yes, it’s an Aurenfaie term of endearment, rather old-fashioned, like beloved. Where’d you pick that up?”
Ahem. Seregil doesn't have the advantage of my recaps, but you do. So...yeah. Alec regards him quizzically, then merely says that he must have picked it up at a salon.
Seregil then of course decides to stare out into space dramatically, because of course he does. Bards.
Days pass, and Alec realizes they're not going to talk about the matter again. The journal/Nysander he means, not the other part. Alec may be just compartmentalizing that to process later. Or he genuinely believes that it was an accidental slip and not related to him. It's hard to tell with Alec sometimes. He ends up asking Seregil about loyalty in general. Seregil understands what he's asking right away:
“Loyalty, eh? That’s a large question for a thinking person. If you’re asking if I’m still loyal to Nysander, then the answer is yes, for as long as I have faith in his honor. The same goes for any of my friends.”
“But do you still have faith in him?” Alec pressed.
“I do, though he hasn’t made it easy lately. You’re too smart not to have noticed that there are unspoken things between him and me. I’m trying hard to be patient about all that, and so must you. But maybe that’s not the real issue here. Are you losing faith in me?”
“No!” Alec exclaimed hastily, knowing the words were true as he spoke them. “I’m just trying to understand.”
Seregil decides to give an opaque object lesson: everyone's loyal to the Queen right? What if the Queen ordered them to harm Micum. Because Micum committed some treason against Skala. Endearingly, Alec is immediately defensive of Micum. But what if the treason was to protect his family or something.
I take special note of this part:
“Certainly. Any man ought to hold his family above all else. But what if his justified act of treason cost hundreds of other families their lives? And what if some of those killed were also friends of ours—Myrhini, Cilia, Thero. Well, maybe not Thero—“
Aw, I'm starting to think the whole Seregil-Thero rivalry, on both sides, masks very different feelings. Brothers are complicated sometimes.
Anyway, the hypothetical really quickly goes far too far afield. Seregil starts to press the idea of what if Alec had to kill Micum, if it was a choice between Queen's justice or a mercifully quick death, what if-
Poor, practical Alec is utterly bewildered. I don't think he really got the point of the lesson. I did though: Nysander's a dick.
--
Chapter Eleven is very short, so I'll add this here.
So now we're hanging with Nysander. He's gazing at the hands, which are moving more often now. He notes how old his reflection looks, then starts descending into the vaults. He has a history here:
He’d wooed Magyana here in the days of their youth.
When she’d remained obdurate in her celibacy, they had continued to share long discussions as they wandered along these narrow stone corridors. Seregil had often come with them during his ill-starred apprenticeship, asking a thousand questions and poking into everything.
Thero came with him occasionally, though less often than he once had. Did Ylinestra bring him down here to make love, Mysander wondered, as she had him?
By the Four, she’d warmed the very stones with her relentless passion!
He shook his head in bemusement as he imagined her with Thero; a sunbird embracing a crow.
He’d never completely trusted the sorceress.
Apparently he's actually tried to talk to Thero about his concerns, but Thero wasn't really on board.
This bit annoys me.
Other wizards might have dismissed an assistant over such a matter, he knew, yet in spite of their growing differences, Nysander still felt a strong regard for Thero and refused to give up on him.
I don't know, dude. That regard once led you to tell a 16 year old stranger that you didn't particularly like your apprentice?
But there's more to it:
nd mixed with that regard, he admitted once again in the silence of the vaults, was the fear that many of his fellows in the Oreska would be glad to take on Thero if he let him go. Many were critical of Nysander’s handling of the talented young wizard, and thought Thero was wasted on the eccentric old man in the east tower. After all, he’d ruined one apprentice already, hadn’t he? Small wonder Thero seemed discontent.
If it helps dude, I am also critical of your handling of Thero. Especially after THIS bullshit:
But more than a keen mind and flawless ability were needed to make so powerful a wizard as Thero would undoubtedly become. Ungoverned by wisdom, patience, and a compassionate heart, that same keen mind would be capable of unspeakable havoc.
So he kept Thero with him, hopeful to change him, fearful to let him go. There were moments, such as the night he found him tending to Seregil’s injuries after the misadventure in the sewers, when Nysander caught a gleam of hope—signs that Thero might be coming to understand what it was that Nysander was asking of him beyond the mere learning of magic.
...forgive my utter fury here. But you're doubting Thero's "compassionate heart"?
THERO WENT TO PRISON FOR SEREGIL. HE SWITCHED BODIES WITH HIM. WILLINGLY. FOR NO THANKS OR REWARD.
When did YOU go to prison for anyone?!
Not compassionate enough, my ass.
And you know what isn't clear about this whole insulting monologue? Whether or not Nysander has ever TOLD his student what he wanted from him! Maybe he'd be willing to learn to be more expressive if he knew that's what Nysander wanted!
I've said this before, but if Thero did decide to betray Nysander, I'm not sure I'd blame him.
But now it's time for Nysander to think about his favorite son instead. He still can't understand how Seregil survived his exposure to the disk. He also is mystified by the fact that his spells were so little protection against the crown that Seregil brought back. In one case, Seregil was more durable, in the other, more vulnerable than he thought.
Time for more crypticness, as Nysander goes to muse about some sort of bowl that apparently has been really important to the "Guardians" (of which Nysander is fourth). He fights some temptation to do something with the artifacts, which are apparently "fragments" of some greater whole. This freaks him out. And so he decides to whine about it:
Whom did he share it with? No one. Seregil could have been trusted, but the magic had failed him. Thero had the magic, but lacked—what?
Humility, Nysander decided sadly. The humility to properly fear the power contained in this tiny, silver-lined chamber. The more apparent Thero’s abilities became over the years of his apprenticeship, the more certain Nysander was that temptation would be his undoing. Temptation and pride.
It might not be so bad if Thero ever got a chance to defend himself against this bullshit. But nope, Nysander's just going to play wise mentor, while clearly favoring Thero's failed predecessor, bad-mouthing him to random strangers, and so on.
#TeamThero. Just saying.
Oh, and the chapter ends with Nysander angsting. Fuck that dude.