Delphia
She had expected the two places - the Mourn and Ludo's wood - to be much the same. Dark, cold, mysterious, and brimming with the energies of the dead. She had thought perhaps a visit would leave her with another place to tend to spirits of those belonging to Mort. But the Mourn was a beautiful place, bright and vibrant unlike Ludo's woods. It reflected the life of those past, rather than the darkness one might have felt at their deaths. It was refreshing, and Delphia found herself perched on a bench, enjoying the view of flowers brought forth in the Flowerbirth sun.
But just because the dead did not call the Mourn home did not mean it was devoid of spiritual energy. Such spirits were what caught her attention, pulling her away from the view of a man approaching. She did not know or recognize him, but he was recognized by her spirit friends. He was different. Special. A chosen of Vi. How chosen she could not yet say, but surely he was blessed by the high god, beloved of her father, in some way. "What fortunes that the chosen of Vi and daughter of Mort should by chance meet. What brings you to the Mourn, friend?" she said as he drew within speaking distance, not much one for yelling.
But just because the dead did not call the Mourn home did not mean it was devoid of spiritual energy. Such spirits were what caught her attention, pulling her away from the view of a man approaching. She did not know or recognize him, but he was recognized by her spirit friends. He was different. Special. A chosen of Vi. How chosen she could not yet say, but surely he was blessed by the high god, beloved of her father, in some way. "What fortunes that the chosen of Vi and daughter of Mort should by chance meet. What brings you to the Mourn, friend?" she said as he drew within speaking distance, not much one for yelling.
she has witchcraft in her lips
