Savino smiled again, genuinely. He was certain some people did judge him for it – and would still, if they knew about what his future held. There was some odd trust or belief in it, that his visions were real and meant something: if he was wrong, he would have wasted a life dedicated to worthless things. But if he was wrong, his life would be long and perhaps uneventful, his death would not come true, and there were far worse things than briefly looking like a fool.
But the proof was here again, spelled out by Elliot Carmichael’s hand, and that proved well enough to Savino that there was power in it, real worth in this discipline. Of course, it was a selective field of study, an ability ill-understood, but the more comparison and discussion and confirmation one had from other Seers, surely the better they would understand it?
“I’m sorry about – all this, by the way,” Savino admitted in a low tone, jerking his head at a cluster of people he scarcely knew with a grimace. “It is not precisely the gathering I had planned.” The next time he met with anyone interested in Divination, it would certainly be smaller and more academic – that was, if any of his actual Seer connections still wanted to associate with him after this.
But the proof was here again, spelled out by Elliot Carmichael’s hand, and that proved well enough to Savino that there was power in it, real worth in this discipline. Of course, it was a selective field of study, an ability ill-understood, but the more comparison and discussion and confirmation one had from other Seers, surely the better they would understand it?
“I’m sorry about – all this, by the way,” Savino admitted in a low tone, jerking his head at a cluster of people he scarcely knew with a grimace. “It is not precisely the gathering I had planned.” The next time he met with anyone interested in Divination, it would certainly be smaller and more academic – that was, if any of his actual Seer connections still wanted to associate with him after this.
