As much as Torchline's troubles weighed on his shoulders, Hadama would not shift them elsewhere without far better reason than mere mortal weariness. They were his people, his pride, and his strength. He held to hope in the face of the darkness, determined that they would survive this as they had the Voice, and that peace would return to the shores of his home once more.
When Safrin smiled upon him, Hadama met her gaze and felt renewed. The problems they faced were not lessened, but knowing that his goddess held him in her thoughts was as bracing as any healing tonic, and he drew in a deep breath laden with honeysuckle and petrichor.
"As long as I live." As long as she would have him. He promised, solemn but with an undercurrent of quiet joy. "I will be your light. I have spoken to some of the demigods. To Noah and Ronin. And to Sunjata," he added, acknowledging the old wounds there, but not shying away from the bad that had come with the good. "And I have made my choice."
You, he said, with all the calm, solid certainty in his steadfast heart, the telepathic bond singing with his decision. Always you.
When Safrin smiled upon him, Hadama met her gaze and felt renewed. The problems they faced were not lessened, but knowing that his goddess held him in her thoughts was as bracing as any healing tonic, and he drew in a deep breath laden with honeysuckle and petrichor.
"As long as I live." As long as she would have him. He promised, solemn but with an undercurrent of quiet joy. "I will be your light. I have spoken to some of the demigods. To Noah and Ronin. And to Sunjata," he added, acknowledging the old wounds there, but not shying away from the bad that had come with the good. "And I have made my choice."
You, he said, with all the calm, solid certainty in his steadfast heart, the telepathic bond singing with his decision. Always you.
