The rumors had swirled thickly around the demigods before the War. Remi and Ronin, chosen of the old gods, partners and husbands through life and death and life again. Wessex, beloved of the Voice, most powerful of her people. And Sunjata and Nate, star-crossed lovers until the Flood had crossed the starry-eyed goddess for the last time and washed up on Frey's shore instead.
But none of the Ascended demigods had returned from the Draig. It took Hadama several long moments to realize what Sunjata's words signified, and then he inclined his head in respect for the other man's loss.
Talk of the Refuge and the desire not to need it was met with a nod of agreement. "Indeed. The lack of even natural magic within is... unnerving," the mermanta acknowledged with his usual understatement. It had made sense when the goal was to keep Ascended and... well, everyone else from coming to blows with their full abilities. But that didn't make it any more comfortable for Merfolk born to their shifts and their telepathy for the entire lives to suddenly lose such integral pieces of themselves while within the Refuge's borders.
Before Sunjata could finish his statement a song came drifting across the water to Hadama's ears, sung in a beloved voice, mellow and warm and weathered by decades of experience before it cracked and called out in pain. The light bobbed, beckoning them to rush to the aid of those that must surely lie just beyond, and the King's face grew stern and hard as he turned away from it with stoic determination. "Nuisances," he rumbled, spine straight is he at least outwardly appeared to ignore the creature's calls. "There was a hunt for them. Several seasons ago. Is there anything like them in King's End?"
But none of the Ascended demigods had returned from the Draig. It took Hadama several long moments to realize what Sunjata's words signified, and then he inclined his head in respect for the other man's loss.
Talk of the Refuge and the desire not to need it was met with a nod of agreement. "Indeed. The lack of even natural magic within is... unnerving," the mermanta acknowledged with his usual understatement. It had made sense when the goal was to keep Ascended and... well, everyone else from coming to blows with their full abilities. But that didn't make it any more comfortable for Merfolk born to their shifts and their telepathy for the entire lives to suddenly lose such integral pieces of themselves while within the Refuge's borders.
Before Sunjata could finish his statement a song came drifting across the water to Hadama's ears, sung in a beloved voice, mellow and warm and weathered by decades of experience before it cracked and called out in pain. The light bobbed, beckoning them to rush to the aid of those that must surely lie just beyond, and the King's face grew stern and hard as he turned away from it with stoic determination. "Nuisances," he rumbled, spine straight is he at least outwardly appeared to ignore the creature's calls. "There was a hunt for them. Several seasons ago. Is there anything like them in King's End?"
