REXANNA
He questions her, the ability to try and ignore the command from the Voice – a question she hadn’t particularly thought of too far in depth at the ability of her new goddess to refuse to give her the fluid she needs to live, and Rexanna pins Jigano with a quiet quizzical stare. “I can get by on blood for a time.” She announces, but she leans in a slight amount toward him, rolling her shoulders in a shrug.
“She works hard to make us what we are, don’t you think she’d have to have a very good reason for withholding our sustenance for life?” She asks with a quiet tilt of her head. “I trust her, and I trust that despite the possibility of disagreements, that she might just have to deal with us? I was Abandoned, the old gods hated me, but they didn't go out of their way to smite me down.” She ponders the thought before sitting back and letting her gaze drift toward the lantern. “There are so few of us as is, Jigano. I don’t know why all of a sudden everyone is so concerned about us?” She tilts her head as her gaze slides back toward the Bard.
“What have we done?” She asks. Because a suspicion, a thought to pin it on the one group of people that had never really belonged here, trapped and contained within a cage, with such few numbers as is seemed like a terrible way to spread the fear of them. And if Rexanna could prove to everyone else that were growing frightened and cautious of the Ascended, that they weren’t something to be feared so much as understood, she felt as though that might make more strides.
But it seemed like she was going around and around again. Outlander versus Natural. United again, only to be divided by Abandoned and Destined, only to be followed shortly after Old Gods versus Ascended. When would it end?
“She works hard to make us what we are, don’t you think she’d have to have a very good reason for withholding our sustenance for life?” She asks with a quiet tilt of her head. “I trust her, and I trust that despite the possibility of disagreements, that she might just have to deal with us? I was Abandoned, the old gods hated me, but they didn't go out of their way to smite me down.” She ponders the thought before sitting back and letting her gaze drift toward the lantern. “There are so few of us as is, Jigano. I don’t know why all of a sudden everyone is so concerned about us?” She tilts her head as her gaze slides back toward the Bard.
“What have we done?” She asks. Because a suspicion, a thought to pin it on the one group of people that had never really belonged here, trapped and contained within a cage, with such few numbers as is seemed like a terrible way to spread the fear of them. And if Rexanna could prove to everyone else that were growing frightened and cautious of the Ascended, that they weren’t something to be feared so much as understood, she felt as though that might make more strides.
But it seemed like she was going around and around again. Outlander versus Natural. United again, only to be divided by Abandoned and Destined, only to be followed shortly after Old Gods versus Ascended. When would it end?
A Light That Never Goes Out.
