The exorcist handing him his work orders goes over field procedure with him. Sorey knows most of it already, but there are some things left out in training, and with Vahvuus's odd behavior Sorey can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. It's almost too neat, how this worked out, because as Sorey sits across from the praetor holding his orders in his hands, he is instructed on how to sacrifice his malak only if absolutely necessary.
"We don't exactly have hundreds of replacements at any given moment," the praetor sighs, writing something down even as she explains. "And without a malak you'll be defenseless against daemons, so since you only have the one you must only do it as a last resort."
It just doesn't make sense. Malakhim can speak, can move, can like things; doesn't that make them alive? Why would he kill someone alive just to save himself? "I don't understand," he says slowly. The praetor gives him an annoyed look and just explains procedure again. Vahvuus pulses silent and deadened inside his soul and Sorey clutches the papers to his chest. This is for the sake of humanity. More and more settlements are threatened by daemonblight every day. He must be prepared to do what's necessary to protect himself and the people, as one with resonance, as one of the few capable of fighting daemons. If that means sacrificing his tool, well...even a seasoned soldier will throw aside their blade if it means their survival.
It's what Vahvuus meant.
And Sorey hates it.
It's not until they've long left the city, out in the countryside making camp for the night, that Sorey tugs gently on his connection to Vahvuus to bring him out. They need to talk about this.
no subject
The exorcist handing him his work orders goes over field procedure with him. Sorey knows most of it already, but there are some things left out in training, and with Vahvuus's odd behavior Sorey can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. It's almost too neat, how this worked out, because as Sorey sits across from the praetor holding his orders in his hands, he is instructed on how to sacrifice his malak only if absolutely necessary.
"We don't exactly have hundreds of replacements at any given moment," the praetor sighs, writing something down even as she explains. "And without a malak you'll be defenseless against daemons, so since you only have the one you must only do it as a last resort."
It just doesn't make sense. Malakhim can speak, can move, can like things; doesn't that make them alive? Why would he kill someone alive just to save himself? "I don't understand," he says slowly. The praetor gives him an annoyed look and just explains procedure again. Vahvuus pulses silent and deadened inside his soul and Sorey clutches the papers to his chest. This is for the sake of humanity. More and more settlements are threatened by daemonblight every day. He must be prepared to do what's necessary to protect himself and the people, as one with resonance, as one of the few capable of fighting daemons. If that means sacrificing his tool, well...even a seasoned soldier will throw aside their blade if it means their survival.
It's what Vahvuus meant.
And Sorey hates it.
It's not until they've long left the city, out in the countryside making camp for the night, that Sorey tugs gently on his connection to Vahvuus to bring him out. They need to talk about this.