He began to pushed papers away until he revealed her notes from earlier. He paused. "Stare, I need you to be ready now, I will not wait any further."
The kenku did not look at him, not directly answer. Instead she leant across and took up the journal entries by the first demonic mage, whom she and Nevin had killed when they were imprisoned. And she began to speak.
"Sabazios, that's it."
Looking over to Vitruvion she expected to see his eyes widening, or his features begin to grow stern. Instead she saw his brows crush together and confusion reign on his face.
"Sabazios?" he repeated
She nodded, "You did not get that far when you read earlier?"
"I merely breezed through it and you did not mention it on your notes." He looked thoroughly bemused.
"I did not know if writing a demon's name did ..." She paused, lost at his expression. "So you ... Recognise the name?"
Vitruvion blinked a few times, letting a shrug rise and fall. "Well yes, but he certainly isn't a great threat. He is ... A fallen god type, a ... Well one I have heard is not interested in what happens to mortal." He leant forwards to peer at the paper. "It mentions no other? No higher demon? Beelzebub ... Azrael?"
She shook her head and looked back down. "Just ... Sabazios. Was there nothing in the demon book?" She spoke of a demonic text that her and Nevin had found on their first time.
"My dear, that was a book that was filled with rituals and practise. No real names, just spells, notes about practise ... It mentioned Sabazios, but many other demons also."
"So - you do not think he is the one?"
"Oh I am sure he would have his worshippers, most do. Some minor church or other, and maybe a mage or two, but to be out here, actively taking part in the world ..." He looked thoughtful, then glanced at her, as she sat with patient, learning eyes. Slightly, he smiled. "I would suggest he became influenced. Sabazios, not the mage."
Stare's beak suddenly parted, her eyes widened as she realised something that she had read. Influenced. She began to search through the work, her hands grabbing onto the journal. She began to rifle through it, getting faster and more flustered, her mind getting excited, over excited ...
