The weight in the air seemed to change and Torleik’s ears tilted forward when Faelene began to speak, sensing that the gravity of the situation had increased and these words were meaningful. Somehow, he knew the question was rhetorical, but he knew that sometimes those were the questions that needed to be answered the most. You asked what you already believed to be true, but you would give anything to know that someone else felt as you did, believed as you did, hurt as you did. “Life has seasons, I have found,” he returned, his low voice a quiet rumble. “The winter of life is harsh and cruel and lasts far longer than we feel we have the will to bear.” Did this mare exist in a winter of her own life at the moment? He felt for her. Suffering and loneliness were awful things made even more terrible and miserable by the knowledge that you had no one else for which to turn in an effort to alleviate the pain.
The subject shifted to deities, as Torleik was a deeply religious man and wished to know all he could about the gods and goddesses that resided here – if any were familiar to him and which ones were not. He listened with rapt attention to her explanation, incredibly curious about this God of Time. The deity fought against a blue abyss? A rift? His people had spoken of those, found sometimes in deep caves, places where the land was close to the center of the earth and still forming, still coming to exist. One of his uncles had been lost to such a rift, as the story went. “This blue abyss…that is where all of the gods have gone? Why this place is…like it is now – with only night and broken magic?” Ulrik had mentioned his magic was broken. Torleik assumed everyone else’s was as well. He had no magic so it did not perturb him overmuch, but he assumed it would be frustrating for those who did – like having a limb immobilized for no real reason.
Torleik frowned when Faelene said “the General” (Deimos, he ascertained) had “given” him place. Traded him service for a place to lay his head, was more like it. He had been coerced, plain and simple. Had Torleik refused to serve he would have been turned elsewhere. At least fighting was something he knew well, he mused. “I was conscripted,” he repeated. “In return for a place to stay, I had to agree to a willingness to shed my blood.” His tone was flat and his ears flicked back towards his skull, speaking to his irritation. Faelene revealed she was a thief and he inquired as to what that position entailed, wondering. His people did not have such a rank as that among their kind, as thieves were viewed very poorly. Her smile relaxed him some; it was real, and he was pleased to see such an expression. The sadness did not do her credit, for she was prettier when she smiled. Her words filled his ears and Torleik considered what she said. “I do not condone slavery except for prisoners of war. If you are a conquered people, you will naturally be subject to the stronger’s rule. But I do not believe slaves should be…mistreated,” he said carefully. “They are…hm. It is complicated. We had a useful system among my people, and it worked well. Slaves became like family, though they had no rights, and they were often highly valued by their masters. It was civil.”
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
