Samuel took a glance at the maps on the wall while passing them. The constellations and planets were arranged on these most often in complex circular patterns, he noted, something he had so far not given much thought but did now. There was an order to these rooms that mirrored what he saw on the parchments. He took in her self-admonishment in silence. Objecting to them would not uproot them from the place they grew from, in her soul.
"Whatever you think of what you have done, there is something of note about the knifeblade. It has achieved transmutational permanence. Hence, it remains in the state it was changed towards with great enduring. I do not think that you will ever need to sharpen it — at least if you do not wield it against something of considerable magical power. That trait only appears after crossing a certain threshold of power and precision — not to be taken for granted."
He stood next to the chairs beside her fireplace and watched her rest the knife on its new stand. There was a slight smile on his lips; he could not conceal that it pleased him that Themis appreciated this gift. He had undertaken some effort and some thought to make it so.
She turned around to him and took his hands, and he held hers and returned the slight increase in pressure he felt there. He held himself very upright and did not glance downward to look at them and consider their contrasting attributes; he already knew them. His were scarred in many different ways and rather strong, with elongated lines to the fingers that were however not delicate, and hers were very elegant and like they had nothing to do with ordinary life at all.
"I will forget that you are a terrifying, dangerous alchemist," she said. "Now you flatter me," he replied, pretending to be very serious.
"Whatever you think of what you have done, there is something of note about the knifeblade. It has achieved transmutational permanence. Hence, it remains in the state it was changed towards with great enduring. I do not think that you will ever need to sharpen it — at least if you do not wield it against something of considerable magical power. That trait only appears after crossing a certain threshold of power and precision — not to be taken for granted."
He stood next to the chairs beside her fireplace and watched her rest the knife on its new stand. There was a slight smile on his lips; he could not conceal that it pleased him that Themis appreciated this gift. He had undertaken some effort and some thought to make it so.
She turned around to him and took his hands, and he held hers and returned the slight increase in pressure he felt there. He held himself very upright and did not glance downward to look at them and consider their contrasting attributes; he already knew them. His were scarred in many different ways and rather strong, with elongated lines to the fingers that were however not delicate, and hers were very elegant and like they had nothing to do with ordinary life at all.
"I will forget that you are a terrifying, dangerous alchemist," she said. "Now you flatter me," he replied, pretending to be very serious.
