i have died everyday waiting for you
Mort’s expression grew thoughtful, his boyish features smoothing into something older, something more ancient than his youthful form would ever suggest. He was quiet for a long time, considering, weighing, though the warmth in his presence never wavered. He and Vi did not interfere, not as the heralds did. And yet… Vi had spoken once of the Bastion and the Knight, of what they were to one another, of the balance they carried, as essential and inevitable as life and death themselves.
Mort exhaled softly, the breath more like the rustling of golden leaves than anything truly tangible. His fingers curled at his sides, then relaxed again. Finally, he nodded. "I will ask him." The words were simple, but they carried weight, carried meaning. A rare bending of the rules, a ripple through the stillness that defined Vi and Mort’s existence.
"But," Mort murmured, his voice as soft as the shifting tides beyond the window, "-until you have an answer, Remi, you must live in Vi’s image. Breathe life where you can, steady the world instead of shaking it. Be still. Be patient. Give, rather than take." His dark eyes lingered on the Bastion, knowing full well the fire that burned in Remi’s bones, the restless, endless more of him. "It is not in your nature," Mort said gently, as if he could already feel the struggle forming, "-but neither is it Vi’s to grant such things lightly."
And with that, the god of death faded, golden light bleeding away like the last rays of the setting sun.
Remi has been given a quest! He must act in Vi's image until such time as his quest is completed by:
1. Doing a selfless deed
2. Tending a grave
3. Protecting something/someone
4. Collecting soil from the Greatwood
Mort exhaled softly, the breath more like the rustling of golden leaves than anything truly tangible. His fingers curled at his sides, then relaxed again. Finally, he nodded. "I will ask him." The words were simple, but they carried weight, carried meaning. A rare bending of the rules, a ripple through the stillness that defined Vi and Mort’s existence.
"But," Mort murmured, his voice as soft as the shifting tides beyond the window, "-until you have an answer, Remi, you must live in Vi’s image. Breathe life where you can, steady the world instead of shaking it. Be still. Be patient. Give, rather than take." His dark eyes lingered on the Bastion, knowing full well the fire that burned in Remi’s bones, the restless, endless more of him. "It is not in your nature," Mort said gently, as if he could already feel the struggle forming, "-but neither is it Vi’s to grant such things lightly."
And with that, the god of death faded, golden light bleeding away like the last rays of the setting sun.
Remi has been given a quest! He must act in Vi's image until such time as his quest is completed by:
1. Doing a selfless deed
2. Tending a grave
3. Protecting something/someone
4. Collecting soil from the Greatwood
