“Unluckily it was the only way. Savin and Abel have no idea what they’ve manipulated in order to give you back a semblance of emotion, but maybe that’s for the best, otherwise they never would have.”
Althea stopped running the towel over her hair and looked up at Enàbram.
“What are you talking about? What are they injecting me with?”
“It is complicated: in short, Savin has made a distillation of different parts of Aetherics. In other words, they are injecting you with the emotions of those who have died and whose souls, no longer claimed by the astral Parvis, have turned into the Aetherics that the Vigil Fellowship is capturing.”
“Is Abel aware of this?”
“I doubt the Company knows this truth — at least not your brother nor his companions whom I have been able to observe. Perhaps this
