CHULANE
I believe that dreams are sacred
He watched the fire with a quiet fascination and awe, his eyes shifting skywards. His normally icy gaze appeared a deep indigo as the golden flames reflected in them, his antlers casting stark, sharp and pointed shadows as the conflagration before them turned and churned, rose higher and higher into the twilight sky above. A deep sigh puffed a cloud of icy mist before his nostrils, which reflected golden in the light of the flames that danced before him. And he listened to their words on the gods and the heralds, and the mention of the Voice gave him pause.
Did the heralds have flaws? Did they consider humans flawed, beneath them?
Were humans beneath them?
Coming from a world where gods were but a human invention, it was still hard for him to digest at times that there were beings out there bigger, stronger and infinitely more powerful than he or anyone else. Slowly, he got used to the idea, his recent experience with Frey helping, but every now and then the questions rose up again, and he wasn't sure what his whole feelings on the matter were. 'The fire is only for Safrin,' Chulane said automatically, firmly insisting on the idea. Towers of fire were all well and good, but only if they were aimed at the empty sky above, and not at people, no matter the 'consent' given.
'Are we just pawns in their great game? Or parasites who rely on them to survive?' It was definitely not the time to have such an existential crisis, and yet, here they were.
Did the heralds have flaws? Did they consider humans flawed, beneath them?
Were humans beneath them?
Coming from a world where gods were but a human invention, it was still hard for him to digest at times that there were beings out there bigger, stronger and infinitely more powerful than he or anyone else. Slowly, he got used to the idea, his recent experience with Frey helping, but every now and then the questions rose up again, and he wasn't sure what his whole feelings on the matter were. 'The fire is only for Safrin,' Chulane said automatically, firmly insisting on the idea. Towers of fire were all well and good, but only if they were aimed at the empty sky above, and not at people, no matter the 'consent' given.
'Are we just pawns in their great game? Or parasites who rely on them to survive?' It was definitely not the time to have such an existential crisis, and yet, here they were.
Take my darkest fears and play them
