Misunderstandings were never rare, it seemed, and all too often discovered too late when one or both parties stayed silent in their concerns. Jigano knew only that Rexanna would not answer his question, and his worry for his friend grew all the greater, adding to the other weight he already carried until he thought his spine might crack beneath the pressure of it. 'You don't have to carry it alone' he had been told recently, and more then once... but as heavy as the burden was, still he found it harder than he expected to try and set it down or share it among other shoulders that might lighten the load, if only his stubborn pride would let them.
His second question, at least, was approached more openly, and he admired her honesty even if it did nothing to alleviate his worries at the changes he saw in her between their last conversation and now.
Would he have been so worried if the change had been for a reason other than one dealing with the strange gods of this world? Probably not, he silently acknowledged to himself, but even knowing the root of his concern did nothing to change what he felt because of it. Gods least fortunate, but every day brought new reasons for him to wish Zariah had stayed in Northhaven and never come to Caido to ruin the lives of his friends. It was beginning to feel like the Abandoned woman was doing more to grow the Voice's armies than three hundred years had.
"I think you will fight for what you think is right," he answered with a wan smile. "Which is all any of us can do." He tilted his head at the woman before him, with her straight back and squared shoulders and the confidence that he had seen in her before amplified tenfold with her new abilities. She had come a long way from needing to be told by a god to find her own happiness. Had she gone too far in the opposite direction? Only time would tell. And would she - could she - refuse the Voice's commands, should that goddess decide to use the weapon that Rexanna had made of herself? That question worried him most of all, but as with Sam he saw that pushing the issue would only create strife between himself and a friend he cared for. Still he smiled for her, though it was tinged with sadness. "So I will hope that he respects your desire to fight... and that you will respect his choice not to, if it comes down to it. It can be a remarkably fine line between fighting against something... and eventually becoming that which you once fought against." And that slope was a deceptively shallow one, and far more slippery than he had ever dreamed in his youth.
His second question, at least, was approached more openly, and he admired her honesty even if it did nothing to alleviate his worries at the changes he saw in her between their last conversation and now.
Would he have been so worried if the change had been for a reason other than one dealing with the strange gods of this world? Probably not, he silently acknowledged to himself, but even knowing the root of his concern did nothing to change what he felt because of it. Gods least fortunate, but every day brought new reasons for him to wish Zariah had stayed in Northhaven and never come to Caido to ruin the lives of his friends. It was beginning to feel like the Abandoned woman was doing more to grow the Voice's armies than three hundred years had.
"I think you will fight for what you think is right," he answered with a wan smile. "Which is all any of us can do." He tilted his head at the woman before him, with her straight back and squared shoulders and the confidence that he had seen in her before amplified tenfold with her new abilities. She had come a long way from needing to be told by a god to find her own happiness. Had she gone too far in the opposite direction? Only time would tell. And would she - could she - refuse the Voice's commands, should that goddess decide to use the weapon that Rexanna had made of herself? That question worried him most of all, but as with Sam he saw that pushing the issue would only create strife between himself and a friend he cared for. Still he smiled for her, though it was tinged with sadness. "So I will hope that he respects your desire to fight... and that you will respect his choice not to, if it comes down to it. It can be a remarkably fine line between fighting against something... and eventually becoming that which you once fought against." And that slope was a deceptively shallow one, and far more slippery than he had ever dreamed in his youth.
