She is not a sea of churning hope in her bloody rags and war-torn hair, not a beacon of firelight which Isra so graciously told stories by until her voice is raw and hoarse just to ease the fears of the many, and not the experienced warrior that Calliope and Raymond seem to be on the battlefield... Yet she is alive, breath humming through her breast with every fluttering of her valiant heart, eyes weary and bright with the world before them, hope a flag so tattered yet waving, unable to be destroyed under the onslought of terror and imminent death. The phoenix comes from within the buildings, comes when feet shuffle and bodies rustle in the night. Under a starlit sky they follow their goddess to the edge of the sea where she stands tall above them all. On a self-anointed pedestal, the abysmal woman reigns over them all with only a simple request.
But, Moira wonders, what answer is it she wishes to hear ? Does she beg for the future, for days when the birds will be gone ? Perhaps she will tame the birds and anchor them as guardians of Denocte so that all who dare do it harm will think twice... Such inquiries spark her imagination, as simple as it is at times, but she is silent.
Raymond answers first, painting the war before them clearly, the damage they've taken and the lives they will defend before her eyes. Crowds are silent now, as moonlight begins to sparkle on sand, as hidden treasures buried by the sea resurface for them to feast their eyes upon. Is she the only one who looks out to the receded waters instead to watch the eyes twinkle there instead of the heavens above ? So many faces are heavenward, galaxies in their eyes, fear and hope radiating on their skin like a fresh layer of paint to hide the monsters that lurk within. Moira mourns, for she has become a monster for them. Willed herself to strike down beasts and birds, spilled blood of those only striving to survive just as they were. When she'd first returned to the walls of the city, she'd puked and puked in the alleyways that were not well trod. A healer's heart is not armored for battle.
Isra's voice chimes brightly, twinkling for all to gather round and flock to as they do their goddess. Prayer is something new Moira vowed to learn... She is still learning the hymns and praises that do not come to her tongue. "Do you wish us to divine our future, Caligo ? If we look hard enough will the birds retreat and our home be safe ? I see the light of a thousand eyes and ancestors shining upon us, I see their spirit there... Do you wish to put our home in the stars to be immortalized forever, frozen in a void to be only a remnant of memory ? What stories do you see with your cloak of night and breath of light, what do you ask of us now so near to danger ?"
@Random Events
But, Moira wonders, what answer is it she wishes to hear ? Does she beg for the future, for days when the birds will be gone ? Perhaps she will tame the birds and anchor them as guardians of Denocte so that all who dare do it harm will think twice... Such inquiries spark her imagination, as simple as it is at times, but she is silent.
Raymond answers first, painting the war before them clearly, the damage they've taken and the lives they will defend before her eyes. Crowds are silent now, as moonlight begins to sparkle on sand, as hidden treasures buried by the sea resurface for them to feast their eyes upon. Is she the only one who looks out to the receded waters instead to watch the eyes twinkle there instead of the heavens above ? So many faces are heavenward, galaxies in their eyes, fear and hope radiating on their skin like a fresh layer of paint to hide the monsters that lurk within. Moira mourns, for she has become a monster for them. Willed herself to strike down beasts and birds, spilled blood of those only striving to survive just as they were. When she'd first returned to the walls of the city, she'd puked and puked in the alleyways that were not well trod. A healer's heart is not armored for battle.
Isra's voice chimes brightly, twinkling for all to gather round and flock to as they do their goddess. Prayer is something new Moira vowed to learn... She is still learning the hymns and praises that do not come to her tongue. "Do you wish us to divine our future, Caligo ? If we look hard enough will the birds retreat and our home be safe ? I see the light of a thousand eyes and ancestors shining upon us, I see their spirit there... Do you wish to put our home in the stars to be immortalized forever, frozen in a void to be only a remnant of memory ? What stories do you see with your cloak of night and breath of light, what do you ask of us now so near to danger ?"
