That he would not need to speak to Frey was a relief, he couldn't help but admit to himself. He knew Phoebe had already offered to do so, and he was glad she felt close enough to the nature god to be the one to try.
That Safrin had no divine answer for the blight was just as far in the opposite direction of relief, though, worrisome in a way he had not expected. Not that gods always had all the answers but, well... There was comfort in sometimes thinking that they did, even if they didn't always hand them out in the way one expected.
The chastisement continued, his every word digging himself deeper until he wished he could crawl in a hole. Ludo sometimes frightened him, but Safrin made him feel small. Not merely humble or in awe of her presence, or at least not only that. He had never before felt so unworthy when offering prayers, and he crouched as low as he could get on his perch. I do not want you to punish anyone, he tried to explain. That is why I asked... Asked for people not to be punished, though he had been willing to bear up beneath such, if there was a price to be paid for a cure to the blight. He looked helplessly at the ground, at the fallen petals that seemed to out of place at the feet of Vi's daughter. Were there any right words left?
Perhaps there weren't... but there were honest ones. Truth had ever been his sharpest weapon and strongest shield.
It would be the hill he died on, he knew. For a moment of wistful distraction he wondered if Rory would light a lantern for him, and what color it would be.
I cannot say what a god should or shouldn't do, he spoke softly, subdued, but slowly straightening, raising his head once more. I came to you because you are Vi's chosen one, a daughter of Life, and I thought... I hoped... that Life would seek to repair the harm done to it. You're right, that I have not given my allegiance to any god, and that you have no reason to help me, specifically. I barely know you, except for the light you allowed Amalia to share with me. But it was not humans alone who brought that barrier down. Hints and clues and godly gifts cleared the way and led us into that cursed Spire. Humans made a final choice, yes, but you and Ludo helped in your own small ways. So if we have broken things and wounded neighbors, we are not alone in that. And just as we made those mistakes together, so I ask - I beg - that we fix them together.
He paused but briefly, cocking his head at her as he both feared her retribution and braced to take it. And if I have not given my allegiance to the Old Gods before, then I do so now. Mort and Vi and Rae, Ludo, you... and Frey as well. If the blight is of the Voice, then I wish no part of her.
That Safrin had no divine answer for the blight was just as far in the opposite direction of relief, though, worrisome in a way he had not expected. Not that gods always had all the answers but, well... There was comfort in sometimes thinking that they did, even if they didn't always hand them out in the way one expected.
The chastisement continued, his every word digging himself deeper until he wished he could crawl in a hole. Ludo sometimes frightened him, but Safrin made him feel small. Not merely humble or in awe of her presence, or at least not only that. He had never before felt so unworthy when offering prayers, and he crouched as low as he could get on his perch. I do not want you to punish anyone, he tried to explain. That is why I asked... Asked for people not to be punished, though he had been willing to bear up beneath such, if there was a price to be paid for a cure to the blight. He looked helplessly at the ground, at the fallen petals that seemed to out of place at the feet of Vi's daughter. Were there any right words left?
Perhaps there weren't... but there were honest ones. Truth had ever been his sharpest weapon and strongest shield.
It would be the hill he died on, he knew. For a moment of wistful distraction he wondered if Rory would light a lantern for him, and what color it would be.
I cannot say what a god should or shouldn't do, he spoke softly, subdued, but slowly straightening, raising his head once more. I came to you because you are Vi's chosen one, a daughter of Life, and I thought... I hoped... that Life would seek to repair the harm done to it. You're right, that I have not given my allegiance to any god, and that you have no reason to help me, specifically. I barely know you, except for the light you allowed Amalia to share with me. But it was not humans alone who brought that barrier down. Hints and clues and godly gifts cleared the way and led us into that cursed Spire. Humans made a final choice, yes, but you and Ludo helped in your own small ways. So if we have broken things and wounded neighbors, we are not alone in that. And just as we made those mistakes together, so I ask - I beg - that we fix them together.
He paused but briefly, cocking his head at her as he both feared her retribution and braced to take it. And if I have not given my allegiance to the Old Gods before, then I do so now. Mort and Vi and Rae, Ludo, you... and Frey as well. If the blight is of the Voice, then I wish no part of her.
