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Date: 2017-03-15 02:14 am (UTC)Felix knew going into this that he was liable to see some strange and distressing things. He's spent most of the day preparing himself to stay focused, let nothing dissuade him once the task is in motion. He's halfway to politely declining the request when the atmosphere changes.
Suddenly it seems so obvious. Of course he has to stay on track. What kind of conjurer would he be if he called everything off at the first sign of unpleasantness? A hundred generations of his ancestors would scorn him. And breaking blades was not part of the deal. Felix doubts that Harrow- the Harrow he knows, the one who invited him here - would be so pleased if he were even to try. No, he promised a bargain. A bargain they'll have. Part of him senses that his feelings are being, perhaps, encouraged, but it's all so wholly right...
The broken voice is brushed aside, entirely forgotten. Felix turns his attention to seeking the presence of the blades themselves, whatever form that may take in here. This comes with a stab of healthy trepidation, though. He'd hoped to have Harrow's support here, and he really doesn't know what he's about to find...