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[Aral seems to sharpen a bit at that, looking at the family friend turned feline with a specific interest.]

Ah. Cultural or personal enemies?

Both.

[ The cat rubs her face up against his hand. ]

In one case, I really do mean both - someone who was both cultural and personal. Became one of my best friends, actually.

[Reminded, he resumes the attention, this time utilizing both hands to the task.]

That is impressive, actually. How did you break past it?

[ A little huff of resigned amusement. With dryness and wryness both, Kitty responds: ]

Had my every illusion shattered, one after another. Sometimes gently, and sometimes quite violently. Definitely a necessary process, but not one I'd recommend.

[ Then, a little more helpfully: ]

The most important thing I did was sitting down and talking to the people I thought were my enemies. I'd grown up being told that demons were wicked and dangerous, but I had a long talk with one in the process of him kidnapping me and discovered just how intelligent and compassionate and wise they can be. And that sort of inspired me to save the life of another enemy - which I guess really stuck with him, because it was still haunting him when we met up again three years later and sort of shattered his illusions, too. And then we ended up saving my city together, which I guess goes to show you that sometimes goodness can reap rewards, no matter what the cynics say.

[He listens intently, still except for a thoughtless, habitual brush over the feline's fur. It isn't so hard to picture, though the scope, as with the small patches and threads she's offered of her life before, was deeply supernatural.]

Trust beyond reason... Your story reminds me of someone, I wonder if she felt the same.

[ She looks up with interest. ]

Really? Who?

My wife.

... Actually, I believe you'd get along terrifyingly well.

Oh - Cordelia?

[ Kitty sounds very pleased. She doesn't know Cordelia so well yet, but she likes her. ]

I could imagine her being the sort of person to show trust to others, yeah.

I would not be so complete a person could she not. [He gives a bit of a white smile.] I may have been the demon of her story.

[ Her ears flick back; a little warm purr rises from her. She's clearly charmed by that comment. ]

Spirit. Demon's actually a very derogatory name. I assume she'd call you by the correct name.

Indeed. And make the proper name sound like an old wives curse when truly frustrated.

Spirits though... are there a variety or is it merely a name given to another race in whole?

[ Oh. She perks up. ]

Well, spirit and demon are both terms for the same race of creatures, with the latter being derogatory, obviously. But there are actually lots of divisions amongst the spirits. There are differences in terms of their level of power - like, imps are made of the least amount of magic, so they're the least intelligent and powerful, while djinni are in the middle and marids are at the top. And there are differences within those classes, too - like, each spirit has a difference balance of the elements in it. So one of my absolute favorites was a djinn of fire and air. Which made sense with his personality, since he was truly full of hot air.

[That finally gets a laugh out of Aral. It's short lived but rich.]

Ah. I believe I know the type.

[ Fondly: ]

Yeah. Completely incapable of shutting up. Which would be annoying in some circumstances, but when he's a literal slave...It's more of an act of courage, really.

[The scritches pause for a moment, as Vorkosigan frowns. Slavery was, frankly, one of the few atrocities Barrayar DIDN'T get up to on a regular basis. That was in the purview of Jackson's Whole.]

It would be, indeed. [And a wonder if it was him that she got that particular trait from or merely the admiration from a kindred spirit.] Was he one of those who changed your views?

Yeah. He was one of the first spirits I talked to. Instead of - erm. [ With a bit of reluctance: ] Killing outright.

It's the hardest illusion to shatter, isn't it? [The petting resumes, attention to the soft fur at the ruff.] Realizing that every enemy you've killed is someone else's child, as full and complicated a life as your own.

[ A little quietly: ]

Yeah. Before then, I didn't even realize that they could think. That they had personalities. Let alone that they were doing what they were doing because they were enslaved to the wills of wicked men.

[And conversely, he could clearly imagine the terror, resentment and anger that must have grown for however long this system was in place. Even meeting this race outside of these magician's control would be dangerous, for any number of justified emotions could drive a strike. ... Trust had to have been difficult and incomplete.]

Did they join your effort?

[ She shakes her head. ]

No.

[ Echoing his thoughts: ]

They didn't trust humans. For good reason, really.

[He nods, and finds nothing to add to that.]

I wish your new government well.

Yeah. So do I.

[ A little sigh. ]

I believe they can do it. If they just rise above their worse instincts.

I suppose that would be the trick with any society. Though some have been taught that their worst instincts are all they have to trust.

Fortunately, they did just have a pointed demonstration of how their worse instincts tend to get lots of people killed.

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