Court of the Fallen
a mother's love - Printable Version

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a mother's love - Clemente - 11-08-2019

Gentle instructions from a tender tongue have led him here, cloaked in early twilight that hangs promisingly over the skyline, stars like watchful eyes and the moon's heavy light a silver guide for the young traveler beneath her gaze. It had taken some convincing for Rexanna and Bastien to let him go alone. The man had offered to introduce him to his creator during LongNight, but Clem had slowly come to the realization that he'd rather meet her alone. Whether it was because he feared her reaction to him or because he didn't feel comfortable speaking freely about his self-doubt in front of the two lovely Ascended that had taken him beneath their wings was still unknown. But he had prepared for days, anxious and unable to sit still.

Religion was not something he'd had much experience with back home. Churches offered food and temporary shelter, but faith and verses did not keep your belly from aching. But he knew he had to bring an offering of some sort, even if it was just his own desire to show gratitude for the Voice bringing him here. Where things were harder in some ways, but where he was much happier already than he had ever been.

Clemente approaches unsurely, trembling hands holding his offering tight. It had taken many practice items and a lot of instruction from Nate to achieve something he felt at least a little confident giving to a God. A wooden carving the size of his palm in the palest wood he could find. A crescent moon with subtle lightning etched into its surface. Clem draws closer to the inviting glow of the tree, and hangs the crescent from one of the branches with the other offerings. It's easier to speak out into the silence of the night when he's alone. [say]"I-I just wanted t'say thank you. For bringin' me here. And 'm sorry if I wasn't what you wanted."[/say] But he would try so hard to become someone worthy, even if she had ended up with a pitiful kid to add to her mighty ranks.


RE: a mother's love - Random Event - 11-08-2019

Where his fingers touch the branches, small electric sparks reach out for him like a caress. A mother's caress. The boy is made strong and whole in the presence of the tree. But for now, the Voice is called elsewhere.


RE: a mother's love - Clemente - 11-08-2019

Clemente gasps softly as the sparks dance up his fingers, eyes suddenly wet with a shuddering relief he can scarcely put words to. It's far more recognition than he has ever been given before, when he had been desperate enough to pray to absent deities. The strength and wholeness he feels is like a drug, and though he still fears that he is not the champion she had wanted, he has time to wait. To ask. To hope that he sees her face to face someday soon, so he can thank her in person.

He stays by the tree for a few long hours, curled against the obsidian bark like a cradle he was never given.