- Pronoun
- they or she
Nolan grimaced a little at Odette's opening question. Even his ego didn't support the notion that he alone could perceive the contradiction – especially when he'd been so agonisingly slow to come around to even considering it seriously. Despite his embarrassment, he heard out the rest of what Odette had to say with fingers steepled. And then narrowed his eyes at the notion that Matthias was a divine error.
"If the Beacon can err so grievously, how then could we hold that the light's chosen are deserving of faith and support...?" he murmured.
And yet, he could no longer force himself to believe that Matthias was owed just that. The conflicting pressures roiled in him like a waterfall against rock, the tides against the shore, wearing him down.
He put a hand to his head and rubbed gingerly at his temple.
"To answer your question, it is not widely discussed, no... The society as a whole is content to delight in his inclusion and cheer his accomplishments. This matter is of greatest interest to my department, and I suppose to the council. When I first entered into a conflict with Matthias, the official position of the Sable Office was that the boy would eventually be one of us, and we needed only to persevere, win him over, prove ourselves worthy, explain to him that we were his natural allies... In a sense, we are now vindicated in that position. And yet... And yet, if his light-ordained journey necessitated years of conflict with us, does that not call into question why such a thing was necessary? Was there no candidate for his duty who could have obviated such a conflict? In all Creation?"
The Inteleon's voice rose, not so much in volume as pitch, until he sounded almost petulant. Still, the indignation in his voice was bitter and real. He'd been the one on the receiving end of Matthias' attacks all that time, after all. And they hadn't exactly reconciled...
"And why," he asked, tremulously, "have my my initial hopes not then come to pass? I did not become his mentor when I ceased to be his enemy. I do not even rightly know what he considers me, now. Perhaps only as a defeated opponent."
"If the Beacon can err so grievously, how then could we hold that the light's chosen are deserving of faith and support...?" he murmured.
And yet, he could no longer force himself to believe that Matthias was owed just that. The conflicting pressures roiled in him like a waterfall against rock, the tides against the shore, wearing him down.
He put a hand to his head and rubbed gingerly at his temple.
"To answer your question, it is not widely discussed, no... The society as a whole is content to delight in his inclusion and cheer his accomplishments. This matter is of greatest interest to my department, and I suppose to the council. When I first entered into a conflict with Matthias, the official position of the Sable Office was that the boy would eventually be one of us, and we needed only to persevere, win him over, prove ourselves worthy, explain to him that we were his natural allies... In a sense, we are now vindicated in that position. And yet... And yet, if his light-ordained journey necessitated years of conflict with us, does that not call into question why such a thing was necessary? Was there no candidate for his duty who could have obviated such a conflict? In all Creation?"
The Inteleon's voice rose, not so much in volume as pitch, until he sounded almost petulant. Still, the indignation in his voice was bitter and real. He'd been the one on the receiving end of Matthias' attacks all that time, after all. And they hadn't exactly reconciled...
"And why," he asked, tremulously, "have my my initial hopes not then come to pass? I did not become his mentor when I ceased to be his enemy. I do not even rightly know what he considers me, now. Perhaps only as a defeated opponent."