Something about all of this - the lesson, told gently and balancing multiple points of view, the reverence with which Drelasa speaks, the way she puts it all into words - it reminds Leon of attending mass when he was younger, when it was all about hearing stories of something beautiful and powerful and bigger than himself. It's not the same, obviously, a preacher at the pulpit versus hearing a woman from another world tell him about her own experiences in a corner of a noisy tavern, but there's a common thread through both that he doesn't expect, that tugs at something he's buried deep in him.

"That... sounds like it must've been incredible," he says, after a moment's silence to take it in. "Meeting an ancestor, like that. I don't think anything like that happens back where I come from. If there's any angels or spirits watching over us, they don't... make themselves known."

And they aren't doing a very good job of it, he thinks, a little petulantly. But his own long crisis of faith isn't the point, here.