[Lucien sips his juice and listens thoughtfully. The boy doesn't seem to be lying]
Alright, dreamling, I'll play along. I have been [his hands make an uncertain, vague sweeping gesture] spirited away, like in the tales humans tell about my people. They winnowed me, alone and without my knowledge, or something. To another, unknown faerie realm entirely. With dragons and one singular castle. Perhaps not an entire realm then? Perhaps a smaller island than Prythian, beyond The Wall, where fae still live and magic still thrives, somehow, despite Amarantha's Blight, and without humans pushing them out.
[The world he comes from is far more on the same plane geographically speaking, as if the border between magic and mundane can be drawn on a map. At this point in his young two centuries, growing up well after the Great War where his map was divided as such, the idea of other worlds feels like a childish daydream]
These long-forgotten fae somehow have the power to whisk me away from Under the Mountain along with [he looks around] so many humans. But can not defend themselves from a great beast... [He lets out a chuckle, and continues to muse out loud] Perhaps they bring you for that reason. Perhaps they are strong magically, but need muscle. Humans are nothing if not stubborn and resilient, it is folly to underestimate them.
[In a dream, he can almost admit it- admit how wrong he was about humans. But then - why bring him? With the blight, Lucien's magic is but an echo of what it once was, and surely there are plenty of fae under the mountain in better physical condition than him, whose last memory was struggling to get a shirt on through the searing pain across his back.]
no subject
Alright, dreamling, I'll play along. I have been [his hands make an uncertain, vague sweeping gesture] spirited away, like in the tales humans tell about my people. They winnowed me, alone and without my knowledge, or something. To another, unknown faerie realm entirely. With dragons and one singular castle. Perhaps not an entire realm then? Perhaps a smaller island than Prythian, beyond The Wall, where fae still live and magic still thrives, somehow, despite Amarantha's Blight, and without humans pushing them out.
[The world he comes from is far more on the same plane geographically speaking, as if the border between magic and mundane can be drawn on a map. At this point in his young two centuries, growing up well after the Great War where his map was divided as such, the idea of other worlds feels like a childish daydream]
These long-forgotten fae somehow have the power to whisk me away from Under the Mountain along with [he looks around] so many humans. But can not defend themselves from a great beast... [He lets out a chuckle, and continues to muse out loud] Perhaps they bring you for that reason. Perhaps they are strong magically, but need muscle. Humans are nothing if not stubborn and resilient, it is folly to underestimate them.
[In a dream, he can almost admit it- admit how wrong he was about humans. But then - why bring him? With the blight, Lucien's magic is but an echo of what it once was, and surely there are plenty of fae under the mountain in better physical condition than him, whose last memory was struggling to get a shirt on through the searing pain across his back.]