It’s a plan if nothing else, though Nephele feels an instinctive desire to tag along to defend the younger Fae. But no, she mustn’t. Juniper has been doing just fine in Nephele’s absence. “If you need any help, let me know. I can stay here while you travel to keep an eye on things.” Now that she has returned, the two of them can rest easy knowing things won’t spontaneously combust if they have to leave for affairs. It’s at least a comfort that Juniper seems to be reevaluating her interactions with Sunjata and Nate, her vow of wariness enough to smooth away the edges on Nephele’s shoulders.
“Considering she did nothing to stop Nate, I wouldn’t trust any dangled notion of compliance from her. As much as I want justice, we should focus on returning the Mathair and increasing the forest’s defenses to prevent it from happening again.” Perhaps something like Stormbreak has; from what she’s heard, it’s quite effective. It would have prevented this entire mess from the start. “Neither of our people ages in the same way as humans. We have time to pursue trials; if the war does not solve such problems first.” There’s no eagerness to the words, only a grim acceptance that this may be the way of things. That they will be robbed of the opportunity for justice delivered by their own hands.
It is a disappointment overshadowed by the horrible, dizzying feeling that follows it at Juniper’s revelation. Nephele would not say she is particularly maternal, but the notion of children being Ascended? Her throat feels tight, burning with bile that threatens far worse were it not for Juniper’s hand upon her arm. Nephele reaches almost blindly for her sister in arms, hand shaking and clammy as it reaches to grip Juniper’s forearm. It’s too hard to think, to contemplate morals and the philosophical definition of life and souls when her horizon has been so irrevocably tilted. “That’s monstrous,” she breathes, unexpected tears coming to her russet lashes in some twisted snarl of upset and fury. “Sixteen? Gods, barely more than babes. And doomed to eternal life.” She has lived nearly four times over such an age, and she is still quite young herself, only having mastered her wings within the past few years.
Nephele slumps partway over the table, needing Juniper’s touch to ground herself as the other Fae continues on while her own brain tries to come to terms with the magnitude of this new horror. Minutes prior, she would have never entertained conceding on the point. But now there are children involved, even if Nephele is not convinced their humanity is not a lost cause the moment they Ascend. “They will die regardless without their fluid from her,” is all she can force past her numb lips. “And Ludo did not seem to believe they could be changed back. Only their souls released back to Mort.” Death, therefore, would be inevitable.
But she can concede a point when it’s given, and she turns her hand palm upward towards Juniper as her hazel eyes finally lift to find the younger Fae’s face. “I will visit Ludo again. See if there is any way to free their souls first. But if not...Juniper, you need to understand that I chose you for your mind. For your outlook. I am not as good a person as you are, and I need you to be that moral compass for all of us.” Again with skirting the truth, concealing that which she can’t ever reveal to the younger woman. “But if there is no other way to bring down The Voice, I can’t afford to hesitate. That is my job. It’s not a burden meant for you.” Nephele will protect Juniper from that - from Nephele herself, if needed - no matter the cost. Murder will not stain Nephele’s conscience, but she won’t have a single drop on Juniper’s hands.
“Considering she did nothing to stop Nate, I wouldn’t trust any dangled notion of compliance from her. As much as I want justice, we should focus on returning the Mathair and increasing the forest’s defenses to prevent it from happening again.” Perhaps something like Stormbreak has; from what she’s heard, it’s quite effective. It would have prevented this entire mess from the start. “Neither of our people ages in the same way as humans. We have time to pursue trials; if the war does not solve such problems first.” There’s no eagerness to the words, only a grim acceptance that this may be the way of things. That they will be robbed of the opportunity for justice delivered by their own hands.
It is a disappointment overshadowed by the horrible, dizzying feeling that follows it at Juniper’s revelation. Nephele would not say she is particularly maternal, but the notion of children being Ascended? Her throat feels tight, burning with bile that threatens far worse were it not for Juniper’s hand upon her arm. Nephele reaches almost blindly for her sister in arms, hand shaking and clammy as it reaches to grip Juniper’s forearm. It’s too hard to think, to contemplate morals and the philosophical definition of life and souls when her horizon has been so irrevocably tilted. “That’s monstrous,” she breathes, unexpected tears coming to her russet lashes in some twisted snarl of upset and fury. “Sixteen? Gods, barely more than babes. And doomed to eternal life.” She has lived nearly four times over such an age, and she is still quite young herself, only having mastered her wings within the past few years.
Nephele slumps partway over the table, needing Juniper’s touch to ground herself as the other Fae continues on while her own brain tries to come to terms with the magnitude of this new horror. Minutes prior, she would have never entertained conceding on the point. But now there are children involved, even if Nephele is not convinced their humanity is not a lost cause the moment they Ascend. “They will die regardless without their fluid from her,” is all she can force past her numb lips. “And Ludo did not seem to believe they could be changed back. Only their souls released back to Mort.” Death, therefore, would be inevitable.
But she can concede a point when it’s given, and she turns her hand palm upward towards Juniper as her hazel eyes finally lift to find the younger Fae’s face. “I will visit Ludo again. See if there is any way to free their souls first. But if not...Juniper, you need to understand that I chose you for your mind. For your outlook. I am not as good a person as you are, and I need you to be that moral compass for all of us.” Again with skirting the truth, concealing that which she can’t ever reveal to the younger woman. “But if there is no other way to bring down The Voice, I can’t afford to hesitate. That is my job. It’s not a burden meant for you.” Nephele will protect Juniper from that - from Nephele herself, if needed - no matter the cost. Murder will not stain Nephele’s conscience, but she won’t have a single drop on Juniper’s hands.
Your goodness must have some edge to it -- else it is none
