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RORY

Rory was not the pious sort.

He acknowledged the existence of his gods—how could he not, when he had stood eye to eye with Ludo at the Festival of Lights? When he had felt the god's touch each year, when the darkness sighed through the lanterns and the ghost of someone's loved and lost ones flickered back into brief life? And Safrin, whom so many had met, and Frey, who had inserted themselves into so many .. well. He could end that sentence in any way, really.

But he was not pious. He was Abandoned. His prayers had never been answered before.

He had not prayed for over a decade, had not set foot in a Shrine for many years. What could they offer him, someone they shunned by default? What could they give him, that he could not find, or make, on his own? And what could he offer them? They did not need him, so he chose to stay away from them.

His heart was a light and flighty thing in his chest as he crossed the invisible line between the Temple and the altar at its back. A chill traveled down his spine.

Everything was always changing, anyway.

Silent and graceful Rory folded himself down on his knees. There was something he had been thinking of, something brought on by the events at the perch earlier during the Long Night. The Spark Bird's appearance had tempered some of his need, but he was loath to forget it entirely.

It wouldn't have made much of a difference under those circumstances, but he thought of Jigano, bleeding in the jaws of a wolf.

There were other times when it could matter.

"Caido," he said first, his voice low and steady. "Mort. Rae. Vi." He paused. He was as afraid of an answer as he was of their silence. "Safrin. Ludo. Frey." What he wanted was perhaps not in the jurisdiction of that particular deity, but it felt rude to exclude him. Rory licked his still-blistered lips, wincing slightly at the touch.

He had nothing to offer but the stars in his soul.

"I need one of you, if you have a moment. There is something I would ask for."

And then he waited.

as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.