Amalia's glance was caught and held, Jigano's lips twitching into a faint grin and he gave a slight nod of his head in rapport for their mutual thought. Back down again, to seek, to find, to know what was there, and who, and why. He hadn't gotten a chance to see the footprints himself, but he trusted Amalia and knew that they would be returning sooner or later to seek out another mystery in the Underground.
Knowledge begat more questions, spinning through their minds in a dazzling array of answers to questions they hadn't asked yet - hadn't known to ask. Some things were left vague or blank, but others were laid out in such detail that it took the bard's breath away and left his soul singing in joy.
The face of a god, stern and radiant in power, was not something Jigano had expected to learn today, or to see in his mind's eye. Colored as it was by Safrin's own love for Vi, the bard couldn't help but feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes. He felt no shame at them, but he did take a moment to breathe deeply and let the more mundane beauty of the Glade settle some of the chiming notes in his heart down to something more bearable for a mortal.
Amalia's question about Ascendeds was a good one, and one he eagerly awaited the answer to. The next one, about the barrier, even more so.
"And what will she seek to do, if she is freed again," he asked quietly on the heels of his friend's questions. The Voice who had been locked away for three hundred years, asleep in the barrier until meddling Outlanders had accidentally freed her... Was it really so simple as an Ascended mortal being rejected from joining the ranks of the Old Gods? He suspected there was more to it than that, but straight answers to that were as hard to find as elves inside the barrier.
Knowledge begat more questions, spinning through their minds in a dazzling array of answers to questions they hadn't asked yet - hadn't known to ask. Some things were left vague or blank, but others were laid out in such detail that it took the bard's breath away and left his soul singing in joy.
The face of a god, stern and radiant in power, was not something Jigano had expected to learn today, or to see in his mind's eye. Colored as it was by Safrin's own love for Vi, the bard couldn't help but feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes. He felt no shame at them, but he did take a moment to breathe deeply and let the more mundane beauty of the Glade settle some of the chiming notes in his heart down to something more bearable for a mortal.
Amalia's question about Ascendeds was a good one, and one he eagerly awaited the answer to. The next one, about the barrier, even more so.
"And what will she seek to do, if she is freed again," he asked quietly on the heels of his friend's questions. The Voice who had been locked away for three hundred years, asleep in the barrier until meddling Outlanders had accidentally freed her... Was it really so simple as an Ascended mortal being rejected from joining the ranks of the Old Gods? He suspected there was more to it than that, but straight answers to that were as hard to find as elves inside the barrier.
