He knew better.
Raglan had left his home to wander about some faraway islands. He had left even amidst conflict with another Court. The Crow knew that he shouldn’t be searching out the patron Goddess of stars and shadows - not for guidance, not for answers, and certainly not for absolution. Caligo has never been known to be a forgiving deity; even in the bedtime stories that had been whispered among orphans - eyes twinkling with wonder and innocence - their fierce, wild Goddess had been vengeful, merciless, bitter. Caligo had separated herself and her people from her god-siblings with literal mountains. Torn from the rest of the world with shockwaves of grief and pain so deep into her father’s earth that the very crust of the planet rebelled.
She was endless and eternal, both mortal and immortal, a combination of circumstances beyond her control - and she would not take any betrayal, whether intentional or not, lightly. He feared her just as much as he loved her.
Gods be damned, he knew better.
But that had never stopped the Silvertongue before.
...
He had been trekking for what felt like an eternity all across the mountain - on paths paved and on paths discovered - searching desperately for his Goddess. He had questions that he couldn’t put into words, a sense of agony and loss that cut deep into his heart and into his gut. He was lost, so very lost, amidst the chaos of his world, and knew of nowhere else to turn. The comforting heat of the Sentinel’s bloodstone tapped against his breast with every step, a silent reassurance that the bay wasn’t worthless, that the colossal guardian had seen something in him that was enough to break its immortal slumber.
It was that surety of self, derived from the acceptance of an Ancient, that lead the pegasus to a small copse of juvenile birch trees. The pale saplings were skinny and stunted, the occasional harsh storms of the mountain playing a part in their painfully slow growth. Slowing to a stop, Raglan passed pale eyes over the shadows between the ivory branches. The moon was full, dipping the world in silver and making shadows cast by physical forms deeper, sharper.
“Mother of Night, Benevolent Matron of Abandoned Children...” Raglan trailed off, the words choking him. Sucking in a slow breath, the Crow soldiered on, “I’ve been trying to find you, but I suppose it would be easier for you to find me. Tempus came, I can’t imagine his daughter is far behind. Would you offer me an audience? Please? I’ve known you my entire life.. And I’m lost and scared and my home is shut to me. I was hoping to spend time with someone who knows what that’s like even more than me.”
He left a statement unspoken, though he knew that if Caligo were near, she would hear them all the same.
I need your guidance.
@Random Events
