I Pray I'm Not Awake

Frey shrugged. "There are, but your people will make up their own in time. Names are not important." The deity nodded in agreement, pleased that Phoebe seemed to be able to grasp these concepts. "Yes. The true building blocks are even smaller and infinitely more different than this. But you get the idea." Stroking Phoebe's hair and seeming more interested in that than this line of questions, the deity shook their head. "Hate is such a mortal feeling." They said with a shrug. "Lie? No, I have no need of it. I can though if that's what you are asking." "A mercy?" Frey shook their head. "Love is a gift." Though they could tell Phoebe's mind was trying to understand, it was simply past anything that her mind possibly could. And so, smoothing her hair, Frey enveloped the midwife completely. The serene world fell away leaving only the rising and setting suns and the eternal comfort that was Frey. "Hush now." Frey soothed, their magic working deep within Phoebe to repair the physical parts of her that had been wounded due to the miscarriage. There was no need for her to wake up with discomfort after all. Frey

Table image by Beth Myer!