Iskra
this heartwood was cut too damn deep
Iskra can handle a bit of pain, and he's certainly self-inflicted plenty of it over the years, just none that have made him bleed, and none for the purpose of being devout. It's a different sort of mentality altogether, and he idly wonders what Elizabeth might have to say about the whole ordeal and what's exactly right or wrong. Nevermind the current of guilt that seems to be here, with Astaroth seeming to think he owes it to his god to be in pain, and Iskra can't help but feel like he's just waltzed into the den of a cult.
"Pain usually only begets more pain in my experience," Iskra says softly, suggesting that Asta's agony does nothing to relieve whatever Dygra had gone through. "My mother also went through a lot to make me, but she normally preferred when I was happy and safe." Then again his mother hadn't been a god, so maybe once you ascend into deity-dom you get a little weirder about your kids, if that's even what Ancients can be considered.
As for entropy, Iskra knows what it is, he meant why does blood equate to it? Perhaps the best symbol for life, the one truly unruly thing. On its own though, blood has its own order. Hell, even chaos could have order of a sort. The world likes patterns. "Maybe the blood has become too predicatable," Iskra offers, mildly in jest, if only because he's getting a little nervous. "Could be worth trying something else one day. If chaos is what she likes." Or maybe entropy is just code for blood and they don't want to be so gruesome as to say their god is a vampire.
Iskra holds up his strawberry candies as if to make a point, though he dabs each one with a bead of his blood before placing them on the rubies. He extends one to Asta first though, just in case the man is so inclined to sweets. "What are you most thankful for, that she's done?" Iskra wonders, trying to steer the conversation away from theoretical blasphemy to praise.
"Pain usually only begets more pain in my experience," Iskra says softly, suggesting that Asta's agony does nothing to relieve whatever Dygra had gone through. "My mother also went through a lot to make me, but she normally preferred when I was happy and safe." Then again his mother hadn't been a god, so maybe once you ascend into deity-dom you get a little weirder about your kids, if that's even what Ancients can be considered.
As for entropy, Iskra knows what it is, he meant why does blood equate to it? Perhaps the best symbol for life, the one truly unruly thing. On its own though, blood has its own order. Hell, even chaos could have order of a sort. The world likes patterns. "Maybe the blood has become too predicatable," Iskra offers, mildly in jest, if only because he's getting a little nervous. "Could be worth trying something else one day. If chaos is what she likes." Or maybe entropy is just code for blood and they don't want to be so gruesome as to say their god is a vampire.
Iskra holds up his strawberry candies as if to make a point, though he dabs each one with a bead of his blood before placing them on the rubies. He extends one to Asta first though, just in case the man is so inclined to sweets. "What are you most thankful for, that she's done?" Iskra wonders, trying to steer the conversation away from theoretical blasphemy to praise.
I can't see the wood for the trees
