The Painter's cry of horror had not ended when its mouth watered, and this sensation was so strange that it paused before he traced it to its roots and discovered that what it was feeling was pain.
Its tears were a new creation, a miracle that even Eos could not create.
Was it not a funny thing that from the highest limits of depravity and evil, something so pure could be created?
The Painter's tears had fallen, the audience had eaten them, and the tears had been the first thing the audience had ever consumed that came from inside the Painter rather than from outside.
This was a very important distinction, but the audience had not noticed the difference, since the audience usually consumes what was placed before them.
The Painter's tears had been placed before them by the Painter's own failing, and the audience had eaten, and now the audience was hungry.
