[A low-suffering sigh. But Trevor walks closer, leaning against one of the bookcases so he can look Elias in the face without him having to turn around]
[ elias sighs, and picks up a piece of paper off his desk and hands it wordlessly to trevor.
it's written in German, the statement of a man in the late 1880s who was followed by what he calls a demon of fire. he had lost his entire family, workplace, and any place he lived in for more than a week.
the statement isn't complete. ]
I can translate for you, if your German is a little rusty.
[ but he goes to his desk and opens a drawer, rifling through a few sheets of paper until-- ]
Here you are. Nothing to do with the Desolation, but that can't be helped.
[ it's a letter, dictated by a legate of the roman army who has recently come stationed with a legion of soldiers in Hispanic Baetica.
he tells of how much he misses the senate back in rome, of how barbaric the local populace is here, and of various goings on in the camp. the legion had recently been stationed at the very southern coast, near the pillars of Hercules, and the legate recounts a dream in which he wades out into the meditteranean ocean and attempts to swim from the shore of Baetica to that of Mauretania Tingitana.
the dream has come to him every night since he came here, he confesses, and he cannot but think it is an omen.
of course, he has feared the water since he nearly drowned as a boy and has avoided the ocean for all the months he has been stationed here, but there is, in these dreams, a sense that if he does not make the attempt soon then there will be dire consequences.
the letter ends with an entreaty to the recipient to again ask for his transfer away from this legion to any that is sufficiently far from the ocean.
Whether Trevor reads the whole thing or not, Elias waits for him to look up and adds: ]
He was found dead in his tent a few weeks later. Lungs full of seawater.
[Trevor is not the scholar that Sypha is, nor does he have the benefit of a classical education like Adrian. But he also isn't stupid: it just takes him longer to translate in his head. He sobers up as he reads, exhaling and handing it back once he's done]
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[ you did just tell him off for making everything about fears and the like ]
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[ wow the one time he isn't actually trying to be rude ]
But by all means, if you'd like to hear my thoughts on the statement of a young man's experience with house fires, I can go on.
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Sure, all right.
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You could just give me permission to rifle through your mind to know what exactly you would or wouldn't find interesting.
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Everyone on this boat has issues with privacy.
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[ elias' smile eases, like he finds that genuinely amusing ]
I believe that the limits on my power here mean that I can access the things which the person giving permission allows.
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[ he's actually really mad about it, trevor. it's the worst. ]
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And why would I give you permission for anything inside my head?
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From me, at least.
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it's written in German, the statement of a man in the late 1880s who was followed by what he calls a demon of fire. he had lost his entire family, workplace, and any place he lived in for more than a week.
the statement isn't complete. ]
I can translate for you, if your German is a little rusty.
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If it isn't Romanian, French or Latin, I can't read it.
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I do have one here in Latin I wrote up the other day, if you're interested.
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[ but he goes to his desk and opens a drawer, rifling through a few sheets of paper until-- ]
Here you are. Nothing to do with the Desolation, but that can't be helped.
[ it's a letter, dictated by a legate of the roman army who has recently come stationed with a legion of soldiers in Hispanic Baetica.
he tells of how much he misses the senate back in rome, of how barbaric the local populace is here, and of various goings on in the camp. the legion had recently been stationed at the very southern coast, near the pillars of Hercules, and the legate recounts a dream in which he wades out into the meditteranean ocean and attempts to swim from the shore of Baetica to that of Mauretania Tingitana.
the dream has come to him every night since he came here, he confesses, and he cannot but think it is an omen.
of course, he has feared the water since he nearly drowned as a boy and has avoided the ocean for all the months he has been stationed here, but there is, in these dreams, a sense that if he does not make the attempt soon then there will be dire consequences.
the letter ends with an entreaty to the recipient to again ask for his transfer away from this legion to any that is sufficiently far from the ocean.
Whether Trevor reads the whole thing or not, Elias waits for him to look up and adds: ]
He was found dead in his tent a few weeks later. Lungs full of seawater.
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God, that's depressing.
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