People don’t lie, not around me. If they do they’ll find that they’re singing the truth quick enough. Of course, I didn’t have that talent when I was really young, but I come from a powerful family. Telepaths and empaths, song healers and virloparths, all liable to pick up the whisper of a lie. There wouldn’t be much point in getting fanciful with characters like that around.


A child who invented some story to go out adventuring would be caught before the wards were down.

I knew the story that babies float down a river in a hidden egg and the parents who want them just pick them out was nonsense long before I knew the truth. That wasn’t what I wanted to go looking for anyway. Some adults had that tinge of amusement that meant they were telling a truth that has vibes like a lie when they talked about the river-babies … and baby water dragons ought to come that way. I wanted a silver one.

That doesn’t mean that everything you hear where I come from is true, even if it’s your parents telling you. Anyone can believe something, even believe it with all their heart, and anyone can be wrong. Anyone can want to believe something – and the worst lies are the ones people tell themselves, always.

You can’t lie to me, not any more. You can tell me an untruth and I might believe it, but only if you truly do believe it yourself.

Muse, “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 234