He sucked in a breath as light washed through his soul, warm and healing and green, heralding the arrival of his god even before Mort spoke. Tal raised his eyes to the sight of that gentle smile offering the absolution he so desperately craved and swallowed hard as tears of relief stung his eyes, quickly blinked back. He couldn't speak at first, but he managed a short shake of his head in negation at knowing about the origins of revivify feathers. It was probably important, but mostly he just wanted to hear Mort's voice in that moment, filling him with awe and blurring the edges of his fears.
The answer he received to the question that he scraped together his courage to ask was...
Tal squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the weight of what he'd done crushing the air from his lungs. It was strange, hearing a variation on his own assurances to Alys over Sascha's death turned back on him, and he realized with a sickened twist in his gut just how empty those fierce platitudes had been. Without the Void it wouldn't have happened, sure, but...
But.
The warmth of Mort's fingers so near to his skin brought him back to himself and he blinked up into that sunlit smile. The absolution of the god of death was a powerful thing, but Tal couldn't entirely shake the weight of a life taken too soon from his hands. He couldn't manage a smile in return, but dipped his head in gratitude as he sat back on his heels. "Thank you," he murmured, voice still raw. "For... for bein' here for me. For helpin'." He reached up hesitantly to touch the earring that still held a warm glow of golden Longheat days and then he let his hand fall to his pocket.
"I... I've got one more favor t'ask, if it isn't too much?" he looked up at the god of death with hope and sorrow in his eyes, trying to hold on to the lesson of the revivify feathers. That Sascha was gone, but not forever. Not beyond the reach of their love for her, and that eventually they'd see her again when they went to Mort's Halls for good. "If y'see Alys's companion, Sascha... could y'give her these, from us? Please?" There were jerky treats there, a favorite of one small ursur and one burly dragon, offered up as a token from a family that loved the little companion and missed her very much.
The answer he received to the question that he scraped together his courage to ask was...
Tal squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the weight of what he'd done crushing the air from his lungs. It was strange, hearing a variation on his own assurances to Alys over Sascha's death turned back on him, and he realized with a sickened twist in his gut just how empty those fierce platitudes had been. Without the Void it wouldn't have happened, sure, but...
But.
The warmth of Mort's fingers so near to his skin brought him back to himself and he blinked up into that sunlit smile. The absolution of the god of death was a powerful thing, but Tal couldn't entirely shake the weight of a life taken too soon from his hands. He couldn't manage a smile in return, but dipped his head in gratitude as he sat back on his heels. "Thank you," he murmured, voice still raw. "For... for bein' here for me. For helpin'." He reached up hesitantly to touch the earring that still held a warm glow of golden Longheat days and then he let his hand fall to his pocket.
"I... I've got one more favor t'ask, if it isn't too much?" he looked up at the god of death with hope and sorrow in his eyes, trying to hold on to the lesson of the revivify feathers. That Sascha was gone, but not forever. Not beyond the reach of their love for her, and that eventually they'd see her again when they went to Mort's Halls for good. "If y'see Alys's companion, Sascha... could y'give her these, from us? Please?" There were jerky treats there, a favorite of one small ursur and one burly dragon, offered up as a token from a family that loved the little companion and missed her very much.
