DELPHIA
Delphia knew there were many things she could never fully understand of her father's life and realm and existence. She was only half of him, after all, and her mortal half kept her mind bound to a realm he presided over but did not inhabit. But still she tried to understand him, focusing hard on the words he said, and their true meaning, recognizing his higher purpose. "You yearn for the world Caido left you to steward to be the best it can be. Is that almost right?" she said, hoping she was somewhat close. It was such a big thing to yearn for, encompassing so much more than souls and spirits and death - all the things that sang to her with a clarity and familiarity she enjoyed. It always amazed her the sheer vastness of existence, which being with Mort always made amply clear.
The color language Mort used spoke deeply to her, something he likely knew and keyed into - or perhaps it was a shared perception. Spirits used color all the time to convey thoughts and emotions, leaving auras in rainbows hues to be read and discerned. She hummed low, head resting on her father's shoulder as she thought on it more. Here, her humanity clashed with her divine roots. The love she felt for all mimicked her father's, white and pure, given without hesitation or prompting. But had she ever loved anyone more than that? Had she ever felt her love change to be deeper? Brighter? Darker? Anything? That his love for her was deep amethyst filled her with pride and joy, squeezing his hand in response. For a moment her eyes fluttered closed, and in that moment she could see the shift, how she felt for him different from that of others. "Mine for you is deep blue. Filled with comfort and trust and loyalty." she said, opening her haunted gaze to smile at him.
But...
That was it. There had never been another she had felt something more or different for. Even her own family (her mother being the lone exception) was brimming with the purity of love that was blindingly white. What would it be like to have a golden love, filled with splendor? "How did you know though? How did you know when it changed or that it was different?" she asked. Presumably he had not loved Vi with the same golden splendor at first. Presumably it had changed and grown overtime - for she knew the gods were not nearly so unchangeable as mortals thought them to be. And if that was all true...how did one recognize it? How could she recognize it? Walking through life loving everyone and everything as an impulse...it muddied everything for her in a way her fellow human could not understand. Only Mort could, of this she was certain.
The color language Mort used spoke deeply to her, something he likely knew and keyed into - or perhaps it was a shared perception. Spirits used color all the time to convey thoughts and emotions, leaving auras in rainbows hues to be read and discerned. She hummed low, head resting on her father's shoulder as she thought on it more. Here, her humanity clashed with her divine roots. The love she felt for all mimicked her father's, white and pure, given without hesitation or prompting. But had she ever loved anyone more than that? Had she ever felt her love change to be deeper? Brighter? Darker? Anything? That his love for her was deep amethyst filled her with pride and joy, squeezing his hand in response. For a moment her eyes fluttered closed, and in that moment she could see the shift, how she felt for him different from that of others. "Mine for you is deep blue. Filled with comfort and trust and loyalty." she said, opening her haunted gaze to smile at him.
But...
That was it. There had never been another she had felt something more or different for. Even her own family (her mother being the lone exception) was brimming with the purity of love that was blindingly white. What would it be like to have a golden love, filled with splendor? "How did you know though? How did you know when it changed or that it was different?" she asked. Presumably he had not loved Vi with the same golden splendor at first. Presumably it had changed and grown overtime - for she knew the gods were not nearly so unchangeable as mortals thought them to be. And if that was all true...how did one recognize it? How could she recognize it? Walking through life loving everyone and everything as an impulse...it muddied everything for her in a way her fellow human could not understand. Only Mort could, of this she was certain.
Here in the forest dark and deep
I offer you
Eternal Sleep
