The shard he holds is put back in its place with a small flourish of his hand. It appears back on his forehead as if it were always meant to be there.

Then, Emet-Selch holds out the same palm to carefully take the new shard. He can no longer see souls, their color, or how they shine, but there is something familiar about holding this shard. Enough for him to know that there is truth to the rumor.

"Souls are a gift from the planet itself." He explains, fondly observing the little shard and how it shimmers in the light. There's a distant sentimentality to how he speaks about it that has not been present in other topics. "They are something that magic may never replicate. It makes each of them unique in many ways."