these voices won't leave me alone
Her smile was radiant as the sun itself and her voice the melodic tune of universes stretching beyond the edge of infinite reality. How could any not behold the Herald of life and not feel the urge to fall to their knees in supplication? How could the Ascended behold their goddess and see anything but a pale shadow of what a goddess truly was with the existence of one such as Safrin? It was beyond her comprehension, and she knew no words could ever sway her from the reality she felt to be true deep within her soul. "Why must either be false? Your stars are most easily perceived when the night is darkest, but to be so resplendent in the darkest of hours is the imagery of the world's greatest heroes and saviors - all of which fade away in the presence of your divine mastery." she said softly, the barest ghost of a smile on her lips. "And why else should the most beautiful women of lore be compared to the moon, if not for its striking luminescence offset by the blackness of the void, in an effort to convey the saddest of attempts to reflect your radience?"
And while her compliments were over the top and flowery, reminiscent surely of those trying to butter the goddess up, Delphia's words came from a deeply honest place in her soul. Mort's daughter was not one to lie or inflate, especially not to a goddess who could see her heart.
"Abandoned." Delphia repeated, taking the correction with grace. It was what they were now known as after all. But her why did not soothe her. She did not outrightly say she was wrong in her suspicion, nor that it was impossible. Her hands clenched, her knuckles turning white as nails dug into and broke the skin of her palms. "She is their god and so she keeps them, and at the very best has watched them suffer for centuries." she said softly, glaring at the ground. But she did not feel herself fill with anger - instead it was dread, pain, sorrow, grief. The compassion she had been given and conditioned with under Mort's guiding hand shrunk back from the reality like an animal struck one too many times. "To think, she probably thinks it love." she said, now barely more than a whisper.
But Delphia focused on the goddesses words, looking back up at her with a troubled countenance. "Yes, and I assume the Spire is not the only such place that the Voice has created that is beyond your reach?" she asked. To have created but one such safehouse seemed a massive oversight when six divine beings were against you, she thought. "But could any that tried to break into the Spire in all those years even see them? Humans are not particularly good at looking for things which they cannot perceive." she said. If there was no threat that the souls could be found, then why take the time to go to such great lengths as to hide them? That she could perceive the dead, and moreover remove them from this world to go to Mort was not a skill she believed to have been regularly developed.
And while her compliments were over the top and flowery, reminiscent surely of those trying to butter the goddess up, Delphia's words came from a deeply honest place in her soul. Mort's daughter was not one to lie or inflate, especially not to a goddess who could see her heart.
"Abandoned." Delphia repeated, taking the correction with grace. It was what they were now known as after all. But her why did not soothe her. She did not outrightly say she was wrong in her suspicion, nor that it was impossible. Her hands clenched, her knuckles turning white as nails dug into and broke the skin of her palms. "She is their god and so she keeps them, and at the very best has watched them suffer for centuries." she said softly, glaring at the ground. But she did not feel herself fill with anger - instead it was dread, pain, sorrow, grief. The compassion she had been given and conditioned with under Mort's guiding hand shrunk back from the reality like an animal struck one too many times. "To think, she probably thinks it love." she said, now barely more than a whisper.
But Delphia focused on the goddesses words, looking back up at her with a troubled countenance. "Yes, and I assume the Spire is not the only such place that the Voice has created that is beyond your reach?" she asked. To have created but one such safehouse seemed a massive oversight when six divine beings were against you, she thought. "But could any that tried to break into the Spire in all those years even see them? Humans are not particularly good at looking for things which they cannot perceive." she said. If there was no threat that the souls could be found, then why take the time to go to such great lengths as to hide them? That she could perceive the dead, and moreover remove them from this world to go to Mort was not a skill she believed to have been regularly developed.
DELPHIA
