sins only god can forgive.
She preached her faith unto him, dissecting the motives of the Gods who rivaled against one another by withholding their affections from those who did not worship them. He was rather amused by this. How…ungod-like to behave as petty Kings fighting for absolute rule. It would seem that no one was truly immune to the desire for sovereignty. Although even Blyse would argue that the notion of a unified people was indeed a noble (and ultimately necessary) one. He would surely fight for it, if the battle cry was loud and righteous enough. Never mind how ironic the concept of fighting for peace may be. We don’t get to choose how the world works, we simply play our part in it to achieve what means we believe in most. But that was a topic far removed from their current conversation—faith was far more complex than war could ever be.
So he set those thoughts aside to better hear the gospel in her, mostly names that were just more unfamiliar words clothed in the vague context of time—which seemed to be their ruling element. Not fire, not earth—but the motion of the sun and the moon. That was from where the deities reigned. This did piece together the things that Celeste had told him, in the cryptic way she spoke it was hard to tell a fact from an analogy coming from her peculiar vantage. One of those names, however, was quite familiar. Caligo—demigoddess of the night. In that moment, he supposed he should have felt like a rebel upon enemy lands with rivals at each side of him. But he didn’t. That was just the depth of his disconnect with this Goddess; bearing a fledgling desire to belong to her but as far from it as one could be. He also did not feel the need to hide his loyalties, as infant and precariously founded though they were.
“Then I suppose you’ll be disappointed to find that she is the one I’m searching for, this Caligo.” He took a step toward her as he spoke, letting his weight shift away from his weary leg and on to one that was…less weary. Fatigue could only be ignored so long before it demanded attention, yet he fought to deny it as long as he could. His voice betrayed this, slow and indiscernibly soft compared to his usual commanding bellow. “Is there little love lost between your people and hers as well then?” It was much less a question of curiosity and more of a way to guage his welcome here.
If Caligo had drawn him here just to be struck dead, then she had no purpose for him after all and the fate was just as well. It wasn’t as if he could return from where he had come from. Still, he studied her once he said this, searching for an emotion that he imagined might take place when he said this. Carefully, he played himself naïve (or betrayed the fact, since he was indeed naïve to her world’s customs). “I don’t come from a place that knows much of worship or prayer, but I’m told that is what I need to do if I’m to continue down this path I’ve started. It’s hardly motivating. What gives you faith in all of this?” Once he asked her this question, the need to hear the answer drew him more awake.
He could not close his eyes without the answer.
Not to sleep. And certainly not to pray.
@Seraphina ///
So he set those thoughts aside to better hear the gospel in her, mostly names that were just more unfamiliar words clothed in the vague context of time—which seemed to be their ruling element. Not fire, not earth—but the motion of the sun and the moon. That was from where the deities reigned. This did piece together the things that Celeste had told him, in the cryptic way she spoke it was hard to tell a fact from an analogy coming from her peculiar vantage. One of those names, however, was quite familiar. Caligo—demigoddess of the night. In that moment, he supposed he should have felt like a rebel upon enemy lands with rivals at each side of him. But he didn’t. That was just the depth of his disconnect with this Goddess; bearing a fledgling desire to belong to her but as far from it as one could be. He also did not feel the need to hide his loyalties, as infant and precariously founded though they were.
“Then I suppose you’ll be disappointed to find that she is the one I’m searching for, this Caligo.” He took a step toward her as he spoke, letting his weight shift away from his weary leg and on to one that was…less weary. Fatigue could only be ignored so long before it demanded attention, yet he fought to deny it as long as he could. His voice betrayed this, slow and indiscernibly soft compared to his usual commanding bellow. “Is there little love lost between your people and hers as well then?” It was much less a question of curiosity and more of a way to guage his welcome here.
If Caligo had drawn him here just to be struck dead, then she had no purpose for him after all and the fate was just as well. It wasn’t as if he could return from where he had come from. Still, he studied her once he said this, searching for an emotion that he imagined might take place when he said this. Carefully, he played himself naïve (or betrayed the fact, since he was indeed naïve to her world’s customs). “I don’t come from a place that knows much of worship or prayer, but I’m told that is what I need to do if I’m to continue down this path I’ve started. It’s hardly motivating. What gives you faith in all of this?” Once he asked her this question, the need to hear the answer drew him more awake.
He could not close his eyes without the answer.
Not to sleep. And certainly not to pray.
@
