There was a scholar, back in the Empire -- a man named Anton Sokolov. Brilliant, the people called him, and for what he did it was true. But he was boring, predictable, and no matter how many times he called for me, I did not answer.
[ He thinks it would be different, here; if Sokolov were a stranger, like all the others, and he was still unable to predict things as accurately. ]
Even he could not make something made of metal and wires speak on its own.
No, that would take a different type of man. Mister Fëanáro was a very peculiar man with a fire underneath him and he stood for no one's authority. Even I found him intimidating after a while.
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He spoke a little of the sea. [ And it is for that reason, even above the offer of telling stories, that the Outsider is intrigued. ]
How can such objects speak?
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[ He thinks it would be different, here; if Sokolov were a stranger, like all the others, and he was still unable to predict things as accurately. ]
Even he could not make something made of metal and wires speak on its own.
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You are seldom intimidated by others?
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[ She speaks truthfully as Alice is not easily frightened beyond the scope of fire. ]
There is always something predictable underneath a facade. I am not afraid of monsters.
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[ She is not so different than the young ladies orphaned by the plague, rejected and rejecting. ]
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Unfortunately, all too well.
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