Blind-Sight

Perhaps Gabe is not as well-versed in the art of discerning things as he is. But perhaps it is simply a boon of his family, to flit about like night-birds and to intimately know the shadows. Perhaps he has been exceedingly lucky, in his family being the kind that is close knit and close, the kind to teach not weakness, but strength. Strength in even your faults. And as a result, he is an expert now-- he has spent the entirety of his life filled with an unwavering confidence that can only be strengthened, though it should not be confused for egotism. "What a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Morningstar. You know, there are many connotations that follow such a name, coming from other worlds than this...perhaps this, and others..." He knows things he should not, SEES things he should not, for while his eyes remain blind in this world, in others. they see all. He knows the unearthly beauty of a galaxy-rise, not a sunrise-- a morning filled with stars and and evening filled with distant moons and glittering auroras. He has seen a planet filled with life that lives in cold fire, and a planet made of glass that is dead, life and joy and hope extinguished to leave nothing but a beautiful shell.

But this life? This life, he must see through the soul. When poses with such a question, he laughs and the sound is rich, unfiltered."I am a man wise enough to dare not equate myself with a god, though I cannot say if there are those who deem me as such, nor will I dance around the subject of those that have come to an unfortunate end at my hands." He knows what hands are, oft forgetting that there are those who do not,"And so whichever I am is left up to interpretation."
It is not unheard of, nor uncommon, for him to feast on the flesh of the fallen. There are those children that are too weak to succeeded in even the smallest of ways and it is best to devour them before they have even the chance to taste the cruelty of this world, and those that waltz through life with assumptions of deific delusions and grandeur, and those are souls he feels must be knocked down several pegs to remember their place and their flesh must be assimilated.

Perhaps the one he sang to required a darker devotion, for loyalty to be written in blood and fear. Though, it would be no different than any other lord who deems that they are a jealous god, no?
"Come then, share with me your hymns, Sir Morningstar, that I may better come to know you." And though the darkness is near tangible, he gestures to the seat beside him, motioning through the darkness as if it would clear to his demand.

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"speak"