While she often included Ludo in her prayers, as was customary in the anthems, she’d yet to frequent a completely reverent semblance to the herald of death. Perhaps it was the subject matter, despite Mort’s gentle ambience, despite the indication that all souls would once more come together, or perhaps she simply hadn’t given it the right amount of time and dedication, caught up in the throngs of nature. [say]“What do you ask it?”[/say] Not to pry, not to be privy to private thoughts, but a gesture of faith and curiosity, the lightest of grins remaining, and maybe the slightest of teasing mannerisms, ethereal laughter bounding and exuding as they crossed back over pathways marked by stars.
Lena knew of the other worlds – but hadn’t been – so she could only nod at the circumstances surrounding the Citadel, eyes flickering down to the ground, mind pulsing in apprehensive coils and notes. [say]“What do you think draws them to her?”[/say] The notions of power? A lack of pain? She couldn’t quite fathom it – but she’d been Attuned, graced by her gods to walk amongst their flora and fauna, raised to assist, to prosper in the life beneath their precision and knowledge. What would someone yearn for in the Voice’s reach? Why would they choose to go to her?
At his sigh though, she knew the inquiry to be heavy, looming, weighty; because some hadn’t made a choice at all. Because some were destined to merely be that way by misfortune alone. To treat them like all the others seemed horrific, but then – she didn’t know what else to do. [say]“It’s a shame they cannot be changed.”[/say] Reformed. Renewed. [say]“What if…,”[/say] and here she ceased, pausing, uncertain if the thought should even be entertained. [say]“What if we could turn some of them against her?”[/say]
Lena knew of the other worlds – but hadn’t been – so she could only nod at the circumstances surrounding the Citadel, eyes flickering down to the ground, mind pulsing in apprehensive coils and notes. [say]“What do you think draws them to her?”[/say] The notions of power? A lack of pain? She couldn’t quite fathom it – but she’d been Attuned, graced by her gods to walk amongst their flora and fauna, raised to assist, to prosper in the life beneath their precision and knowledge. What would someone yearn for in the Voice’s reach? Why would they choose to go to her?
At his sigh though, she knew the inquiry to be heavy, looming, weighty; because some hadn’t made a choice at all. Because some were destined to merely be that way by misfortune alone. To treat them like all the others seemed horrific, but then – she didn’t know what else to do. [say]“It’s a shame they cannot be changed.”[/say] Reformed. Renewed. [say]“What if…,”[/say] and here she ceased, pausing, uncertain if the thought should even be entertained. [say]“What if we could turn some of them against her?”[/say]
