the devil is not as black as he is painted
Frowning, Safrin nodded. She had seen the looks of the men in love at their wedding and knew that it was genuine. But love could not stop fate, no matter how many pretty poems were written indicating the contrary.
”Seems” Safrin repeated almost knowingly, nodding slowly. “Yes. It does seem that way.” She added in vague agreement.
The alchemist’s question made the goddess pause. Her eyes narrowed almost dangerously for a moment. To ask so bluntly about the extent of her weakness was a dangerous thing. Even more dangerous still to answer. It wouldn’t be the first time a mortal had used such information against her.
“You might have noticed a slight change in my appearance.” She sniffed, vain even now. “But I am...tired. And not the way mortals are tired. I do not sleep like you, need to eat like you, to keep my strength up. I am what I am, but this…” Softly, she shook her head. “It is like a part of me is gone. Eaten away. I am less than I was. I think that is the weariness I feel.”
”Seems” Safrin repeated almost knowingly, nodding slowly. “Yes. It does seem that way.” She added in vague agreement.
The alchemist’s question made the goddess pause. Her eyes narrowed almost dangerously for a moment. To ask so bluntly about the extent of her weakness was a dangerous thing. Even more dangerous still to answer. It wouldn’t be the first time a mortal had used such information against her.
“You might have noticed a slight change in my appearance.” She sniffed, vain even now. “But I am...tired. And not the way mortals are tired. I do not sleep like you, need to eat like you, to keep my strength up. I am what I am, but this…” Softly, she shook her head. “It is like a part of me is gone. Eaten away. I am less than I was. I think that is the weariness I feel.”
