Redemption. Was it truly attainable? Brent leaned against the counter, elbows resting on the bar as he pursed his lips. “I don’t think physically, no, that your soul can stitch back together. It’s a topic that’s more fit for Unspeakables to study as I can only theorize, but I think when a part of the fabric of your being is lost, it can’t be regained. That does not mean that a person cannot redeem themselves in the eyes of others by their later actions and find comfort in that, but that piece of them is forever damned. I can’t be too certain, however, on how that affects a being while they are alive. I’m not sure if you feel your soul.”
“Perhaps you do feel it if part of it is missing,” Barbara mused, putting down the ice cream beside her. She hadn’t studied much on the subject herself, but like with most conversations with Brent, she couldn’t help but let but let her mind run with the subject. “I could imagine that if it’s ripped you could notice that something’s wrong. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to pinpoint what, but I feel like a thing like that would have an effect. I do wonder if the soul always torn apart, though, or if it’s simply when the malicious intent is there. I mean, sometimes people kill in self-defence and they don’t have a choice.” That wasn’t entirely true, Barbara knew. You always had a choice, whether you’d like to admit it or not, but choosing to live rather than die didn’t seem like it was deserving of having your soul torn apart.
