“Yes, but you may also find you start to look more than just younger.” His expression turned grim. “All sorcerers tend to grow more attractive.”
She grinned. “I guess everyone is their own most savage critic.” Then she sucked in a quick breath as she realised what this meant. “So Valhan did not always look like that? Wait–the statue! He still looks like it and you said it was very old. If he changed his appearance, he’s been happy with it for a long time now, right?”
Dahli sighed. “You can’t assume that.”
“Isn’t he? Surely if he wasn’t, he’d change it.”
“It’s not that simple. When you can see into other people’s minds you can see how they perceive you. Their opinion is influenced by their own likes and dislikes–and prejudices. If you lived in a world of people who, for instance, thought blue eyes were more beautiful and indicated higher intelligence or status, you might change your eye colour unconsciously to please them–or to gain trust, or influence, or anonymity.”
“I see. Valhan has high expectations to meet, so he changes to meet them. But people wouldn’t recognise him if he didn’t resemble the portraits of him around the worlds.”
“When he no longer needs to conform to a short-term expectation he returns to his better-known appearance. Yet that, too, would evolve if he didn’t have a way to remind himself of what it is.”
“So how does he do… ah! You said he visits the statue. It’s not vanity, he’s reminding himself of how he should look.”
“More or less. Obviously, he isn’t made of stone.”
“And he has you and his other ageless friends who remember how he should look.”
Dahli winced. “To a point. We, too, have likes and dislikes that influence him.”
A shiver ran down her spine. “Have I influenced how he looks?”
“A little.” Dahli sighed.
“How?”
He shook his head. “You still think of him as… what did you call it?”
Her chest tightened. “An Angel.”
She sighed. So the Angelic qualities she still saw in Valhan were of her own making. That disappointed her more than it ought to, perhaps because it meant the portrait in Lord Felomar’s collection might be more accurate. If those cold eyes were closer to the true Valhan, she ought to be afraid of him. But then, it could have been the influence of the artist.
Not that an artist doesn’t already have an influence. The accuracy of a portrait relied on their skill. Not only could their feelings be expressed in a painting, but they aimed to capture the sitter’s personality. Which raised an interesting question.
“Can other people’s likes and dislikes change an ageless sorcerer’s temperament, as well?”
Dahli’s eyebrows rose. “A little, but not so easily as their appearance, and perhaps no more than being with another person does anyway.” He shrugged. “I would not worry too much about it. I recommend you leave portraits of yourself in many worlds, so that you can return to the appearance you most identify with, however.”
Rielle nodded. So being ageless wasn’t without some drawbacks, she mused. Compared to growing old and dying, it was a minor problem. But minor problems could become major ones. Until she had time to think about the possible consequences she would not dismiss this one entirely.
I thought I would only need to preserve how I am now, not resist the influence of others. If I don’t, how much alteration would it take before I am no longer me?
How much before she was no longer human?
And if not human, what would I be?
She pondered that thought for a long time, Dahli remaining silent to give her the space to do so. Then he began to tell her of moments in his life when he’d most felt the impacts of not ageing, and gave her advice on how to minimise the drawbacks. She’d guessed that seeing people she loved grow old and die would be a great source of sadness, but it sounded like the greater struggle was one of acceptance and belonging. A person’s outlook changed as they grew older and they tended to gravitate towards others like them. It did not take long before an ageless person had little in common with both the younger generation, who found them too “old” in their ways, and older people, whose choices were often motivated by an awareness of their shrinking future.
They had been silent for some time, Rielle lost in her thoughts, when Dahli suddenly spoke.
“Do you have any valued possessions in your rooms?”
Looking around, she realised they had reached the palace. Now devoid of magic, the quiet of the unpopulated complex of rooms and corridors seemed to thicken and chill the air. Dahli glanced at her, expecting an answer. She considered the objects in her room. All given to her since she’d arrived. She touched the pendant on the chain around her neck.
“No. Why?”
“We’re leaving this world,” Dahli informed her.
“How long for?”
“Permanently. Without people living here, this world will remain a weak one.”
“No. You said I hadn’t ruined the palace.”
“You didn’t. It wasn’t your decision to have you taught here.”