The redhead looked around quietly. She moved forward, her hickory eyes soft as she took in everything there was to see. Cel removed her sword, placing it gently on the ground beside her. It was her father's sword, the only thing she still had of the man, so she kept it within reach, but a weapon had no business on her person in such a place.
The young woman crouched to her knees, her fingertips touching the ground, unable to truly interpret the physical sensations. It was confusing. She had been turned in Northaven, and before she was able to actually understand the full scope of her new life, she was suddenly here. Wherever here was...
"I call upon you," she whispered, her hands folded in her lap with her eyes searching the room. "Your foreign daughter... I pray you hear my words and help to guide me in an unknown world. Help me find the clarity to understand and the strength to help those who don't. Please."
Cel closed her eyes and kissed her clasped hands briefly. She didn't expect any kind of answer in reality. When she prayed in Northwind, there had been no answer. When she prayed in Northaven, there had been no answer. When she prayed...here, why would there be any difference? It was the act that was comforting and familiar.
She had always prayed to the gods of fire, worshipped the element as a deity in itself, but since she had changed, her magic was gone. Her control and bond with fire was no more, so she didn't feel connected to her flaming mother. The young woman felt unusually lost, and if she could feel any kind of connection with a deity from this world... That was probably pie in the sky hope, though.
