Balthier had an almost pathological aversion to children, but a magnetic attraction to a good story. Especially a good story about a place he'd never been.
So he hung back from the throng of attentive eight year olds, leaning against a tree with his arms folded, but listening quite intently. Paris didn't sound magical. In fact, there was hardly a mention of actual magic at all. But the way she described the place, you'd never know that. Maybe it was magical to her, and Balthier reckoned that's all that mattered in the long run.
To him, it sounded a lot like Bhujerba, with it's narrow, hilly streets, little shops, and old architecture. In other words - charming.
When the story had wrapped up, it wasn't just the children applauding.
#10
So he hung back from the throng of attentive eight year olds, leaning against a tree with his arms folded, but listening quite intently. Paris didn't sound magical. In fact, there was hardly a mention of actual magic at all. But the way she described the place, you'd never know that. Maybe it was magical to her, and Balthier reckoned that's all that mattered in the long run.
To him, it sounded a lot like Bhujerba, with it's narrow, hilly streets, little shops, and old architecture. In other words - charming.
When the story had wrapped up, it wasn't just the children applauding.