Julie seems to turn this thought over and over in her head. "But if y'all don't even know you're doin' it, then how do you figure out you have the powers? How does anyone else? Like, you could be the greatest singer of all time, right, but if you never open your mouth and sing, no one'll ever know. Right?"
It's all very complicated to someone whose entire view of magic, of powers, was built on fiction. It took her months even in Abraxas to understand that her own magic appears to be unique, that it's not the same as what the others feel. Even those from non-magical worlds don't seem to experience it like she does -- not even Nadine understood when Julie first explained. For months on end, she'd simply assumed that everyone felt magic around them all the time, like gossamer over their skin. Even before she knew how to harness it, she could feel it constantly, and she'd never questioned it. Wouldn't the Grisha feel the same, if they've had their power from birth?
She doesn't want to think about it anymore. It doesn't make sense to her, and she somewhat doubts it ever will; the rules aren't consistent across the worlds, and her lived experience doesn't line up with anyone else's. It makes her head hurt, and her head already hurts from being in a wine haze for weeks.
It probably says a lot about her that she doesn't find such grotesque violence to be off-putting, but then again, she was the sole one of Flagg's lieutenants who was still faithfully obsessed with him after watching him disembowel and cannibalize a man with his bare hands. The only dreams about Flagg she has that aren't nightmares are the ones where his face is literally dripping blood.
"You should get pierced," she says, half-joking, eying a newcomer taking a seat with their drink. She's contemplating stealing it when they aren't looking. "Do they do that in your world? Wouldn't surprise me if it's just a weird thing from my world. But you could probably do a lot with that."
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It's all very complicated to someone whose entire view of magic, of powers, was built on fiction. It took her months even in Abraxas to understand that her own magic appears to be unique, that it's not the same as what the others feel. Even those from non-magical worlds don't seem to experience it like she does -- not even Nadine understood when Julie first explained. For months on end, she'd simply assumed that everyone felt magic around them all the time, like gossamer over their skin. Even before she knew how to harness it, she could feel it constantly, and she'd never questioned it. Wouldn't the Grisha feel the same, if they've had their power from birth?
She doesn't want to think about it anymore. It doesn't make sense to her, and she somewhat doubts it ever will; the rules aren't consistent across the worlds, and her lived experience doesn't line up with anyone else's. It makes her head hurt, and her head already hurts from being in a wine haze for weeks.
It probably says a lot about her that she doesn't find such grotesque violence to be off-putting, but then again, she was the sole one of Flagg's lieutenants who was still faithfully obsessed with him after watching him disembowel and cannibalize a man with his bare hands. The only dreams about Flagg she has that aren't nightmares are the ones where his face is literally dripping blood.
"You should get pierced," she says, half-joking, eying a newcomer taking a seat with their drink. She's contemplating stealing it when they aren't looking. "Do they do that in your world? Wouldn't surprise me if it's just a weird thing from my world. But you could probably do a lot with that."