[If Liem had the freedom to pursue whatever life he chose, not simply the one dictated by his superiors in Abadar’s church, he would return to travelling — farther abroad this time, instead of stopping at the borders of his own country. “Travel” was the aspect of his lord’s domains that he had devoted himself to the most, when he was learning what it truly meant to serve Abadar as an inquisitor, and not just an acolyte.

That was the domain concerned with the spread and transformation of civilization in its entirety, unconstrained by city limits or national borders. Much as Liem loved the place where he was born and raised, he had ever been possessed of a curiosity for other lands and other peoples. It was reflected in the uncanny attention with which he noted the words and mannerisms of others, questioning their thoughts and their motives; a good trait in an inquisitor, though not such a good trait to have in a subordinate. Perhaps that was why his superiors had been so ready to unleash him into the countryside as a young man, to serve Taldor’s smallest communities as an itinerant.

It surprises him to learn that he shares this bit of history with the desert god; surprises him more to be subject again to Set’s undivided attention, here in the flow of theatre-goers flooding back out into the passages of the Last Dance. As he stands there with his hands held in Set’s, surprise makes a smile pass, small and soft and transient, over his expression.]

That is, I think, my favourite thing about living in Springstar; the customs of so many different places are kept alive here. But I much prefer the role of observer. As you said: to fade into the wholeness of the spectacle.