silent night, starlit night
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#15
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
Amalia wonders if she made a mistake, speaking the name of the other god, expressing her discontent. She has not told anyone about that day: Frey's consternation, followed by what they did, hands and lips and other things, touching and stroking and filling. Uncomfortable at the memory, Amalia shifts, tightening her grasp upon herself. It had not been unpleasant (indeed, quite the opposite), but it had not been anything she wanted, anything she sought. Even as Safrin absolves her of guilt, Amalia chews unhappily at her lip, her fingers grasping tightly at her shins. "But I could have done that small thing," she sighs, "If I had been better. I- I know I am not responsible. When when Frey took me to the Spire I... I..."

She trails off, her voice failing, no longer sure what she meant to say. Nothing seems to make much sense, to have any purpose past what she knows. And perhaps that is the message she needs: that no matter what she may say or do, no matter how she may wish, she is meaningless, inconsequential, without any purpose in the grand scheme of things.

She does not expect Safrin to sit beside her, much less to gently stroke her spine. Surprise courses through her and she stiffens in response. But only for an instant; then she melts, relaxing with a heavy sigh into the deity's caress. It is a comfort she has not experienced since her grandmother, the gentle and protective touch cutting deep into the girl's soul. One shuddering breath, and then another: had anyone asked her in the year before this whether she could see herself being cared for by a goddess, Amalia would have laughed.

There are many things that have changed in a year. "There was too much death." She remembers Ronin falling to the Spire Monster, the creature's own tragic life, Kristopher's head clasped in her hand, the body of the leviathan tortoise on the ground...

A leviathan...

...tortoise...

Lifting her head, Amalia gasps as a moment clicks inside her brain. Spinning to face Safrin, the girl breathes: "Was there... in the Spire... a tulmhainar?"


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#16
Safrin

Safrin does not take the opportunity to wax philosophical about the notion of there being too much death. Not unlike Amalia, the diety too believes in higher powers. In the oversight of those who know better.

As Amalia spins towards her, Safrin's fingers fall into her lap and she regards the onyx-eyed woman silently. "A tulmhainar in the Spire?" She echoes, galactic gaze narrowing thoughtfully. "Whatever makes you think so?"
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#17
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
Safrin does not know the answer, which surprises the girl. "I... I went down to try to get them out, that night." She swallows, remembering her failure. "I thought I saw a tortoise in the basement, that had been slain." Had it been a tulmhainar? Amalia tries to remember details, but the night is a cloud of poison and fear. Certainly it was large, though not as large as the one in the woods. She thinks he can picture world's upon it, but now she is not sure.

"I wasn't in there for long. But having met the tulmhainar here... And the Oasis was always green, despite being near the Spire..." She trails off thoughtfully, not wanting to think too hard. If a tulmhainar had been in the Spire - and if it had been killed...

Guilt like bile rises in her throat, and she wishes she had not pulled away, that Safrin's comfort was still on her skin.


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#18
Safrin

That night.

Safrin nods, looking up at the stars. "The Spire has always been protected from our view, even breached. That said..." Glancing at Amalia, the goddess smiles almost secretively. "Did the tulmhainar you met seem that easy to kill? Even young, they have quite amazing defences.."

Trailing off thoughtfully, Safrin turns back to regard Amalia solemnly for a moment. "If there is indeed a tulmhainar in the Spire, the Voice must have trapped it there. For what purpose not even I can guess...but if it is still alive, it must be rescued."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#19
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
"You still cannot see in it?" This surprises Amalia, makes her blink. The Voice has been eerily silent since the barrier fell, and part of her wondered, hoped that it meant her power had somehow waned. But if she could still blind the Old Gods to the Spire, well...

She shakes her head, remembering the massive size of the tulmhainar in the woods. Though... "If... if it had been there for years, without any memories to feed on..." But then Safrin suggests something that makes her heart jump, hope seizing the girl by the chest. "You think it may still be alive? How can we know? And how do we save it?" Maybe this is her chance at redemption, an opportunity to make good on her sins.

Or maybe it is another fool's errand, and she is destined to fail again.


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#20
Safrin

"No. Breached though it might be, it is still a place that holds the Voice's power." Safrin replies with a gentle shake of her head.

"If it was without food, then yes. Centuries kept in the dark with no one to speak to? Or with only the Voice to speak to? That would be enough to weaken in considerably." Raising a brow at Amalia's question, the goddess smiled softly. "How do you check if anything is alive? Find its heartbeat. And if indeed it is...well, you know how to feed it. I doubt the Spire was created around the tulmhainar, if indeed that is what is within. So there must be another way in and out."

Standing, Safrin looks up to the sky. "It is worth trying."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#21
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
Amalia listens to the goddess intently, mulling over the situation in her mind. The idea of finding a tulmhainar's heartbeat seems rather difficult to parse, but if Safrin believes it can be done then the girl is not the sort to question, to doubt the knowledge of her gods. Uncurling enough to look at the goddess, the baker bites her lower lip, each word another puzzle piece which fits within her mind.

"Another way..." Inhaling sharply, Amalia nods her head. "Then I will find it." There is a stubborn line to her jaw, a wavering certainty emboldened by piety in the way she says the words. No creature deserves to suffer for centuries, trapped in the dark with nobody but the Voice- especially one as majestic as the tulmhainar. "And if I find it, and it's alive.... what should I do then?"

How does one get a giant world-turtle out of its underground cage?


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#22
Safrin

"If it is alive, leave the Spire and call to me." Safrin says with an ambiguous sort of nod that seems more for herself, than for Amalia.

Taking a last look at the onyx-eyed girl, the deity nods gently. "I cannot aid you in the Spire...if you do go, bring those with you who are capable to help with what you may find." It is the strength of her friendships that Amalia will have to rely, for soon she will seek a place not even the gods can protect her.

Not the Old ones, anyways.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#23
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
Their conversation has taken a strange course indeed, from starwhales and doubts to trapped tulmhainar. Leaning back against the tree Amalia watches Safrin rise, grateful to the goddess for once again giving her something to cling to, a purpose to fulfill. She nods in response to the being's instructions, already thinking of whom to ask, who would be best to assist such a mission. Three come swiftly to her mind, though one she doubts would deign to agree-

But she will cross that bridge when she comes to it, along with many others.

For now the night is waning on, and dawn lurks at its fringes. Jyoti trills a quiet song, coming to settle in Amalia's lap, and as the girl strokes the calf she watches Safrin thoughtfully, a final question biting eager at the tip of her tongue. It seems inappropriate, inopportune, too bold-

And yet hadn't boldness paid off for her, led her here, to this miraculous point?

"Safrin," the pious baker breathes, ever hopeful, ever afraid. "Would you... would you care to watch the sunrise with us? We would be honored- we already are, and grateful you took the time to speak to us tonight. But if you would like..." And she trails off, utterly unsure how to finish, her throat in her mouth and her heart on her sleeve.


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#24
Safrin

Safrin has been worshiped throughout the ages. Cults have been dedicated to her. In bloodier times, men were slaughtered, blood ran like rivers down pillars and altars in her name. There were the quieter times too, of music and song. Plays, chants, murals. She has seen it all, been worshiped in almost every way, but all of the races in their own way...

..and still she loves it. Vanity is never a thing the deity has denied herself to be.

"In the earliest days, they truly did believe that with enough trickery and distraction, I might indeed forget. That they might actually capture the sun." Safrin says with a light laugh, smoothing down her skirts as she curls her legs beneath Amalia.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#25
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
Amalia watches in reverent wonder as Safrin once more sits at her side, starlit and beautiful, vibrantly aglow. Trying not to look foolish with her joy, she sits in silence, her hands in her lap, letting the starwhale drift over to Safrin and curl up, cooing, upon her legs.

Leaning back upon the tree, Amalia turns dark eyes to the sky, letting Safrin's story soothe her ears. A smile presses on her lips; she laughs, amused by the idea that they could capture the sun - though in truth the girl is one of the few likely to believe it could be done. She believes in far more wondrous things, magic and purpose, divinity and skill. "Do you think they could?" she asks her shyly, "Capture the sun? Or even a star?" How wonderful, to be the bearer of starlight, to keep the cosmos in her hands.

Though... glancing at the starwhale who sleeps beside the goddess, Amalia cannot help but think that maybe she already has.


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#26
Safrin

Stars fall in a shower upon the young calf. They bounce like tangible things instead of radiant spheres of energy, and illuminate the grass around them. Almost as if the light can communicate on its own, the goddess gazes down at Jyoti, a delicate smile on her lips and love in her eyes as she lets her fingers glide over the heavenly creature.

Glancing over at Amalia, Safrin's eyes darken for a moment before Jyoti's radiance soothes her. "It is questions such as those that caused the barrier to arise in the first place, young one. Could they? Perhaps. Once we were happy to share our abilities with humanity, but you have seen where that leads."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#27
Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
Amalia says nothing in response, just watches Jyoti enjoy the shower of stars, nibbling thoughtfully at her lip. For the first time she thinks she may understand the New Gods: not their ambition, their need to overthrow, but the longing to be part of something bigger, to bask more closely in the radiance of divinity. What must it be like to sit among stars, stir the heavens with a brush of her finger, bless the world with a gentle kiss? Magical- but dangerous, to strive for what mortals were not meant to have.

So she lets the thought go, sitting back with a sigh, her head on the tree and her arms around her knees. Glancing at Safrin, the girl smiles shyly, pleased with this moment beyond what words can say. "Thank you, Safrin," she whispers softly, before turning onyx eyes back to the dancing of the stars.


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