[ Faith has been a tenuous thing for Neria for so many years. She prays in her own way, alone, because her prayers are shameful cries in her weakness and anger. Why does the Maker create mages if it means they will be locked away, their rights taken away, never to know freedom again? Why is she a monster when so many others are not, despite the things they do, and in the name of the Maker Himself?

But she does not fault others for having faith. Her frustrations with it, with the unknown plan there is for her, the sadness she feels regarding her own station should not affect others...least of all Cullen, someone she cares for. If his faith is what inspires confidence, who is she to take it away?

Like him, though, she knows the Chant of Light. She knows it forwards and backwards, too many days spent in the secluded area of the small rectory within the Circle listening to prayers with a book in her lap. There is comfort in faith, comfort in such a familiar thing for the both of them. She falls back into it from time to time, craving that familiarity and comfort. It offers a brief balm for her conscience. Better still, it seems to soothe his worry, and she leans into the tender press of his forehead. ]

I'm just a person, Cullen. You deserve kindness and friendship and solace just as anyone else. I'm only glad I can offer it to you, even if for a brief time. I care for you.

[ She opens her eyes to look up into his face. ]

I can't prevent you from hurting but I can certainly worry over what might happen to you.