WESSEX
“You just said you wanted The Voice and her children to concede to missteps.” Sighing, Wessex shakes her head gently, feeling in her gut that Mort’s intentions may have been a little muddled by his daughter, but that a conversation with him may very well clear it all up. But in the end this would achieve very little if the Gods couldn’t reign in their heralds, and the heralds, their humans.“I will. And you are welcome to come to the Voice’s shrine at any point, with or without an answer from Mort. The Voice will talk to everyone.” She gives Delphia the opportunity to leave first, nodding in farewell. “Yours too, Delphia. Until we meet again.” They came from very different places and are unlikely to truly get anywhere, but the effort was appreciated. It’s more than Amalia or Jigano has ever tried to do. And that little thing makes a big difference in her book.
Perhaps it is the heralds who are to blame for this mess more than the Old Gods.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
