[That's not a satisfactory answer. Just like in Horos, when people had tried to speak to her as if hope and despair were somehow real things that could affect the physical world, concepts like... souls just magically knowing how to get home? How can she believe something like that? Only someone pathetic, someone desperate...
She should ask further questions. Demand more specific answers, pin him on the issue of how it was that he knew that these so-called Oracles were imminent, that they had such powers, but-
He offers her the bead again, and this time... Hayame isn't able to refuse. As he cheerfully assures her that she won't be somehow sucked into another hallucination, she reaches and plucks it from his hand so carefully that their skin doesn't brush even the slightest, pulling back to let the it roll into her upturned palm. It glows, soft and warm, and inside of it...
The image coalesces. Inside, a hidden village on a distant mountain, and there... jinba, almost all of them far too young, eke out a meager living hunting and growing vegetables, gathering herbs, crafting their own tools and building their own homes... her remaining eye dilates as a familiar figure, a man with a coat of rust, passes through the image with a similarly coated woman beside him, and they're... They're laughing. A pale jinba with no arms, only empty sleeves tucked carefully into his obi sash, comes trotting up and makes a joke, earning a squeeze from the woman and a groan from the man, and it's...
For a moment, Hayame doesn't say anything. He'd said she wouldn't be pulled into a vision, but.
no subject
She should ask further questions. Demand more specific answers, pin him on the issue of how it was that he knew that these so-called Oracles were imminent, that they had such powers, but-
He offers her the bead again, and this time... Hayame isn't able to refuse. As he cheerfully assures her that she won't be somehow sucked into another hallucination, she reaches and plucks it from his hand so carefully that their skin doesn't brush even the slightest, pulling back to let the it roll into her upturned palm. It glows, soft and warm, and inside of it...
The image coalesces. Inside, a hidden village on a distant mountain, and there... jinba, almost all of them far too young, eke out a meager living hunting and growing vegetables, gathering herbs, crafting their own tools and building their own homes... her remaining eye dilates as a familiar figure, a man with a coat of rust, passes through the image with a similarly coated woman beside him, and they're... They're laughing. A pale jinba with no arms, only empty sleeves tucked carefully into his obi sash, comes trotting up and makes a joke, earning a squeeze from the woman and a groan from the man, and it's...
For a moment, Hayame doesn't say anything. He'd said she wouldn't be pulled into a vision, but.
It's as if Cyrus isn't even there.]