Safrin’s smile at Amalia’s enthusiasm eased much of the tension that Jigano still carried, wary even in the face of such divine loveliness. That she could be supportive, kind, encouraging, all left the bard feeling reassured. She was outwardly like the art in Bastien’s ‘church’ and yet so much more than the shallow priest had painted her… and Isuma liked her, which did much to satisfy his caution. Setting the gryphlet down to chase the sparkling stars, he rose again to give praise where it was properly due: to Amalia and her faith. Both women chided him gently and his smile turned crooked as he bowed silent apology for overstepping.
It was Amalia who took the lead, and asked about the collapsed segment of floor and the mystery of the footprints, and Jigano gave his friend a glance both fond and proud of her boundless curiosity. But before the answer to that there was the question of what lay before them: books, unreadable and fascinating and filled with lore. He hadn’t known what to expect – a cipher, that Safrin’s will would make the letters twist into something they could both read, or perhaps the knowledge of the language imprinted directly into their minds, as Ludo had given him the soul-calling melody?
Instead the contents of the books flowed into his mind, starlight and moonsong and the first flowers of spring opening their faces to the sun. He basked in it, drank it in deeply, and felt transformed by the experience as the waves of knowledge lapped at the shore of his understanding and sank deep to water his thoughts. Head tilted back, he let the new information settle, clicking into place with what others had told him or what he had read, and he sighed in something close to rapture.
He had not realized his hand had found Amalia’s at some point, fingers closing lightly about hers in shared incredulity and joy. Hot on the heels of her question came his own, his bard’s soul singing at the epic romance the one book had related and delight in his voice. ”And Mort! Ah, the stuff of songs and dreams…” Part of him was already beginning to compose the ballad their love inspired, and he looked up at Safrin with shining eyes.
Letting her answer Amalia first, it gave the bard time to recover a bit of his wits and to take a slow breath as he looked first to his friend and then back to the goddess. ”But, Lady Safrin… we have heard something of why the Old Gods may have raised the barrier in the first place. I apologize if I overstep, but what I don’t understand is why the ancestors of those who are not Ascended were also trapped in this cage… and why you and the other two shepherds were given care of this wayward flock?”
It was Amalia who took the lead, and asked about the collapsed segment of floor and the mystery of the footprints, and Jigano gave his friend a glance both fond and proud of her boundless curiosity. But before the answer to that there was the question of what lay before them: books, unreadable and fascinating and filled with lore. He hadn’t known what to expect – a cipher, that Safrin’s will would make the letters twist into something they could both read, or perhaps the knowledge of the language imprinted directly into their minds, as Ludo had given him the soul-calling melody?
Instead the contents of the books flowed into his mind, starlight and moonsong and the first flowers of spring opening their faces to the sun. He basked in it, drank it in deeply, and felt transformed by the experience as the waves of knowledge lapped at the shore of his understanding and sank deep to water his thoughts. Head tilted back, he let the new information settle, clicking into place with what others had told him or what he had read, and he sighed in something close to rapture.
He had not realized his hand had found Amalia’s at some point, fingers closing lightly about hers in shared incredulity and joy. Hot on the heels of her question came his own, his bard’s soul singing at the epic romance the one book had related and delight in his voice. ”And Mort! Ah, the stuff of songs and dreams…” Part of him was already beginning to compose the ballad their love inspired, and he looked up at Safrin with shining eyes.
Letting her answer Amalia first, it gave the bard time to recover a bit of his wits and to take a slow breath as he looked first to his friend and then back to the goddess. ”But, Lady Safrin… we have heard something of why the Old Gods may have raised the barrier in the first place. I apologize if I overstep, but what I don’t understand is why the ancestors of those who are not Ascended were also trapped in this cage… and why you and the other two shepherds were given care of this wayward flock?”
