[There it is. The rush. There's no greater feeling, no better a feeling, than knowing the somethings that so many other people couldn't possibly know. The sparks sliding down Cain's spine are going to be short-lived, at best, he knows, but he will not take for granted the gift Solus is giving him. Access to the Bibliotheca Astrum is more of a myth among the erudite circles. It's whispered about in awe and in no small measure of reverence. Here, and now, he has earned the permission to see it and to take it all in. As an outsider, at that. As a guest. It's the shamefully sweet stuff of his daydreams.
Sharlayan, though. His mother nation. Proud, but distant from him now. As ever, reality has a way of intruding on his successes...]
You are not mistaken, Your Radiance.
[That's where he wants to leave it. He'd prefer not to think about it.
His thumbs advance and retreat several times before he decides on what to write next.]
Believe it or not, you yourself are the first leader among many to give to me more than a twinkling of time for my efforts. It may sound like a bushel of sour grapes, I'll grant you that, but I consider myself fortunate that no other has seen me for what I truly am. To them I was little more than a passing eccentric with his bottles and burners, with promises no doubt impossible to keep. If not for their refusals, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to bring succor and hope to the Garlean Empire. I wouldn't have been there to save your son, or your people.
It's in my nature to wander about and all over, and yet I can't help but wonder, also, if my good works are yet to be exhausted in the here and now. The bells you're promising me within the Bibliotheca Astrum seem like bells I shouldn't rush out to share with those who thought of me as a clown or a crook.
Mayhap I'm being terribly selfish. I said before that I'm not a better man.
[So Cain, too, has nerves that are not to be touched. Then again, Solus is an imperialist. A patient one, but unyielding.
Now, if he can write a thing gently, it's in going from Master Hitlein to this:]
My dear boy. I must have seemed to you as all the rest of them. Stoic toward your burners and harsh toward your person. Condemnatory in my demands of you.
I should not have burdened you with a first impression such as that.
[He is a deliberate speaker, the Emperor--ever a thoughtful speaker, each word chosen with utmost care--]
I should not have set upon you in the same way as other men.
You offered to me a chance to prove myself when you would have been justified in doing naught. It pains me to imagine the number of skulkers, charlatans, rotten bastards, and shameless opportunists who must have darkened your halls in advance of my arrival. That you still had a sliver of trust for an untried remedy speaks to the vast generosity of your spirit. You had no reason to believe me, much less to believe in me, Your Radiance. Yet you bade me to go forth and make good on my word.
[Of course, if Cain had failed, he would not have known ignominy in defeat. He would have been killed. Emperor Solus couldn't have made that more clear to him from where he was set miserably on his throne, in the deepest throes of despair. If you mean what you said and you said what you mean, then you know what it is you must do for me now. I shall entertain no more from you.]
Regardless, you are not and you will never be the same as other men. Not to me. Not at all.
Whatever your powers, you did wield them with a deftness long forgotten to me. Prised the faith out of me as if I were a godly man. You, too, are unlike others.
We have made many plans together, this evening. Too much for us to do in just one day. Tonight ilms closer to completion; thus does your time in solitude. Of all we have discussed, what will you want to do first?
A battle? No, Master Hitlein, let us have nothing so fraught. Pray call upon them to parley. Offer them my olive branch. We shall not run out of things to do, you and I.
Let me take you to my library, first of all. You'll want to go back once you have had your look-see, so we will slip other excursions in between.
[How weak I am, he realizes. It doesn't stop him from saying the things he has said, or from saying what he'll say next.]
We shall dance. I will not strain your heart; you'll not need to hold out much longer. I only need your latest measurements, once you are cleared to be descended upon by the nimblest tailor in Garlemald.
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Sharlayan, though. His mother nation. Proud, but distant from him now. As ever, reality has a way of intruding on his successes...]
You are not mistaken, Your Radiance.
[That's where he wants to leave it. He'd prefer not to think about it.
His thumbs advance and retreat several times before he decides on what to write next.]
Believe it or not, you yourself are the first leader among many to give to me more than a twinkling of time for my efforts. It may sound like a bushel of sour grapes, I'll grant you that, but I consider myself fortunate that no other has seen me for what I truly am. To them I was little more than a passing eccentric with his bottles and burners, with promises no doubt impossible to keep. If not for their refusals, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to bring succor and hope to the Garlean Empire. I wouldn't have been there to save your son, or your people.
It's in my nature to wander about and all over, and yet I can't help but wonder, also, if my good works are yet to be exhausted in the here and now. The bells you're promising me within the Bibliotheca Astrum seem like bells I shouldn't rush out to share with those who thought of me as a clown or a crook.
Mayhap I'm being terribly selfish. I said before that I'm not a better man.
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Now, if he can write a thing gently, it's in going from Master Hitlein to this:]
My dear boy. I must have seemed to you as all the rest of them. Stoic toward your burners and harsh toward your person. Condemnatory in my demands of you.
I should not have burdened you with a first impression such as that.
[He is a deliberate speaker, the Emperor--ever a thoughtful speaker, each word chosen with utmost care--]
I should not have set upon you in the same way as other men.
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[Of course, if Cain had failed, he would not have known ignominy in defeat. He would have been killed. Emperor Solus couldn't have made that more clear to him from where he was set miserably on his throne, in the deepest throes of despair. If you mean what you said and you said what you mean, then you know what it is you must do for me now. I shall entertain no more from you.]
Regardless, you are not and you will never be the same as other men. Not to me. Not at all.
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We have made many plans together, this evening. Too much for us to do in just one day. Tonight ilms closer to completion; thus does your time in solitude. Of all we have discussed, what will you want to do first?
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Let me take you to my library, first of all. You'll want to go back once you have had your look-see, so we will slip other excursions in between.
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[And that's quite the pregnant but, because here he may or may not be making a mistake--]
my heart was holding out hope for that dance. I'll have to remind it to be patient, and at least a little bit grateful, too.
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We shall dance. I will not strain your heart; you'll not need to hold out much longer. I only need your latest measurements, once you are cleared to be descended upon by the nimblest tailor in Garlemald.
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Four more days! Might as well be asking a century's century of me...
But seeing as I'm the one who designed these precepts, I suppose I ought to abide by them.
And I suppose I ought to thank you for providing first-rate amenities in a plague ward.