"That is the advantage of secrecy." Maalech sighed, shaking his head. "It makes one wonder why you made that departure. As long as secrecy is kept, there is no accountability." All this was giving him that shadow of a headache again, and he pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose to stave it off. "Is that what you seek perhaps? Accountability? Or is this all driven by the need to drive things forward? Change is always awkward, and you did mention your desire to force some change into your system..." He looked faintly amused at that, then shrugged.

"I never made apologies for my reputation. For most parts it is well deserved."

Seemingly without effort, she put her first two fingers on his temple, exactly over the place where the headache began. There was no magical revelation--the pain did not instantly dissipate--but her hands were cool and comforting. "I don't go about demanding everyone move forward and then insist that we're good enough to stay the same," she said, smiling. "You evolve or you get left behind."

"But I do wonder if you are prepared for what that change might bring you." Maalech could not help but lean into the hand, just a little, eyes almost closing. "You have revealed yourself, and by your manner and demeanor people paint you as a benevolent goddess. And yet, by yours and others actions, bad things still continue to happen. So they seek for explanations. Is perhaps one of your numbers to be considered 'evil'? Or are you perhaps a victim of bad influence and advice? Or perhaps you all are good, but the master you serve to be considered stern and inhuman? This is the trap of Monotheism, no, indeed of any creature of power. It is no fault of yours, people will naturally forge their own perceptions of how things work." He sounded rather amused at that, though the smile was near imperceptible.

"When you pull aside the veil of secrecy you give yourself open to people's interpretations of what and who you are."

"They're looking at the wrong place for those kinds of answers," she replied, and took her hand away again. "This isn't the sort of conversation I meant to get into," she admitted, a little embarrassed. "I just came to see how you were doing."

"You cannot stop them from looking though, and bear that in mind when they start suspecting your true natures. Though I gather that my association with you casts a lot of that suspicion on me. I would not be surprised if they assume that I am somehow manipulating you all into this for the sake of power." The thought made him chuckle, and he couldn't help but smile at her.

"We always end up in these kinds of discussion, it is my curse I fear. I lecture even to people who do not need it." As if to prove himself wrong he fell silent, instead reaching out to gently trail his fingers over her cheek.

She gave him a brief, warm smile. "That's pretty much the long and short of it," she said. "Right now they think you're staving it off long enough to get your own plans under way, then plan to retire so that you can't answer for them." She shrugged. "It's a genuine concern, honestly. I don't think there's much that can convince them otherwise."

She settled down on her knees beside the chair. "And I don't know what the plans are for me, either," she admitted. "For now, I'm in. I think it's looking more and more like I'll be turned loose again. Especially if I'm allowed to go on talking this freely."

"Is there any need to convince them otherwise? I do not care how others view me... though I do suppose that it might be inconvenient for you if they start distrusting what you say." That made him frown and shake his head. "But even if I wished to, I cannot see how they would consider me anything but evil. Or manipulative."

That brought forth a short chuckle "I am after all. As most people see it."

But the last was good news, very good news. "That is a relief to hear. It was not pleasant to know that the universe shuddered every time we did something that was not approved, does that mean that I can stop fearing you will be replaced any time soon?"

"Any time soon," she agreed a bit sadly. "Beyond that? I'm not sure myself. I'm starting to feel . . . maybe they had a point with cutting out the attachment qualities in the others. I'm not supposed to miss people. This was supposed to be an exercise in empathy, and I think it went haywire on them. Because now I do. I miss people." Her hand crept to the arm of his chair. "I worry about people I shouldn't worry about."

"Empathy... hah, yes, I can see where that would go out of control. You cannot apply a thing like emotions in small doses and expect someone, even a being such as yourself, to be able to keep control in all circumstances. Emotions have a tendency to overwhelm reason whether we like it or not."

Maalech smiled wryly, sliding his hand over hers. "Trust me, in that area I am an expert. What you need to do is to learn how to disregard those things, the missing and the worry.. It is simply..." he broke off, shaking his head.

"Seven mortal hells, it sounds rather bleak when I put it that way."

She looked up at him, amused. "You noticed," she said. "The difference being, I kinda like them now. There was . . . kind of a lacking feeling. When you miss people, somehow it works to make you feel as if they're still there, somehow. That's what I like about it. I could never really be alone as long as there was someone to come back to."