“He's very strong.”
“Are you surprised?”
“..Perhaps a tad bit, but it's been awhile since there's been a Guardian as formidable as him. He takes to the power very quickly, and yet doesn't seem to be aware of his own power. It's supplementing him; that ferocity is only partial Guardian power, mixed with his own. It's...interesting.”
Livane can't help the brief smile that curls her lips, watching her companion carefully. Even if he wasn't visible, she had known Belgae long enough in life to know his nuances, retained even despite the amnesia being a Half Live afforded. She'd noticed the way he took interest in watching Keats progress through his trials, move through the Netherworld realms like it was nothing, despite all his constant skepticism.
His head tilts slightly, an indication he glanced over at her, before he looks forward again, standing a bit straighter and clearing his throat, the cane shifting as he adjusts his grip. “If you think I doubted him, I'll have to tell you that I never did. The girl, she was...strange, but it was clear to me she would be a Messenger. Her eyes hold that much about her, despite her unfortunate company. But Keats...meeting him, I could feel the power he radiated, just under the surface. He's very interesting to me, in so many ways, and I'd hate to believe that he doesn't interest you just the same.”
Livane laughs, folding her arms and looking back from where they stand, watching Keats easily overtake a large Folk, his eyes glowing with power. “Perhaps, but I think he interests you in one or two more ways than he could ever interest me.”
She knows Belgae won't retort; he can't, he's too flustered at the idea, and all he can do is make quiet noises, before falling silent. He'd become enamoured with Keats quickly; each time she sent him to meet Keats, he was different. When it came to Warcadia, he'd been so thoroughly insulted at the idea that he'd have to hang back, meet Keats only at the very beginning, and once he defeated the Folklore.
Her eyes drifted back to where some Faerys spread out, clicking her tongue and letting her arms drop to her sides, turning. Belgae's head tilted to watch her briefly, before going back to where the Faerys approached. “Do you think he's caught on yet?”
That has her stopping, looking back to her companion. “About what?” She knows what Belgae's referring to, and Belgae seems almost indignant as he stands there, observing.
“About the boy. About himself. The girl is far too...oblivious at times, she's easily led astray, as we've seen, but he's a writer. He's too observant to not have started piecing things together.”
“Yes, well. All in due time, Belgae, you know that. If we told either of them, that may affect the outcome of this, and we may lose him as an ally. You know as well as I do that we need him here, to follow the path the same as Ellen is, and find out himself so that he can stop her, and we can stop the Faery Lord.” She turns again, heading down the hill to cross paths with their ally and their enemies, leaving Belgae alone with his thoughts.
“In due time, indeed.”