[Creature of ritual and hierarchy that he is, Illarion chooses to kneel. He's not John's equal to sit alongside him companionably.
John's not his Prince, either, nor Patron, nor fixed star nor even a god he venerates; the King Undying hasn't earned it. Kneeling to him's done in the same spirit that the shrike offers little gifts around the fern--reverence to the god the flawed man could someday become.]
As you will. [The words are so quiet the unearthly echo is nearly gone from them.]
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John's not his Prince, either, nor Patron, nor fixed star nor even a god he venerates; the King Undying hasn't earned it. Kneeling to him's done in the same spirit that the shrike offers little gifts around the fern--reverence to the god the flawed man could someday become.]
As you will. [The words are so quiet the unearthly echo is nearly gone from them.]