BEXLEY BRIAR
The sun has subdued her somewhat, and so Bexley’s patience is not tested by the silence that passes between them for that moment, and not even by what comes out of his mouth next, as absolutely stupid as it is. Her gaze is hooded and cool, and she watches him for a second longer than necessary, as if she does not quite believe this is a real question he’s asking her: Solterra has never been one for diplomacy, hardly even one for education. They are lovers and fighters and proud of conquest. They are right to live the way they do, and there is no amount of dialogue in the world that will convince a heretic to change the way knives and a blazing desert sun will.
You sound like a flower picker, she points out with a snort. We are not diplomats, we are not priests. It is not our job to convince people to come here. The desert kills those who don’t love it, just as Solis kills those who dare to take residence in His home without paying proper homage. Distracted as she mulls over her next words, Bex draws a random assortment of lines in the sand, head tilting in thought. You will never see a Day Court mission sent out to convert, or anything in that vein - the belief comes first. The living comes second.
Her teeth grind imperceptibly. It is strange to hear these words coming from her own mouth when only a year ago Bexley worshipped a wholly separate entity. Yet her time spent in the Day Court has been transformative, and already she is someone rebirthed, devout, someone who understands why the people here live as they do - because there is no other choice, not if they want to survive. There is only one way to live in Solterra, she finishes. Under His rule or not at all.
@vadim <3
