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Patrick sighed. “This sort of failure to communicate is exactly the kind of thing that gets us upset with each other later. We’re asking for more misunderstandings if we keep holding off on telling each other things.” As usual, Patrick was the voice of reason, and no one listened to him.
“I’d never think of repeating your mistakes. I’m perfectly capable of coming up with new ones on my own.”
“Well,” I began, “That was the strangest way I’ve ever been terrified.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I meant someone that shared my interests in esoteric enchantment theory. I’m not here to find a date.” “But if you were, someone who is obviously befriending you with ulterior motives does seem like your type.” “Ouch. That happened once, Sera. Once.”
“Thanks. Let’s get ready to go.” “Wait.” She raised a hand. “Corin…this goes beyond Father. You’re clearly hurting. You’ve been hiding it well enough that I didn’t really notice, but if you need to talk….” “I don’t need to talk.” I said a little too fast to be convincing. “What I need is to get moving. To get that token. To help you, to help Tristan. The only way to lower my burden is to succeed.” “Corin…that’s not a healthy way to live.” I gave her a sad smile. “What other choice do I have?”
That being said, you’re not entirely wrong — everyone who exists is mentally compromised. We all accumulate false information over time, internalize it, and are influenced by it, consciously or otherwise. We are, in part, a product of these biases, as well as all other information we gather in our lifetimes.”
She just watched those poor, innocent statues get chopped to bits, while Lars tossed the pieces in a pile. While Lars chopped, Kester lifted each piece, briefly appraised it, then tossed it into some kind of large sack. I desperately wished I could laugh. They were looting the puzzle. Truly, this was the work of adventurers. Lars, I’m sorry I ever doubted you.
