Despite her attempt to remain poised in front of the goddess, a bitter little laugh escaped Arialla at the question of why the Voice might bother to repair the life she had shattered. It didn't surprise her. Why would a goddess care about the collateral damage of her plans? She might revere the gods -- her gods, the gods of Caido, whichever -- but she possessed no illusions as to their fickle natures. They could be kind, like her Apollo, but they could be cruel in the next breath, and they did not answer to mortals.
"I understand." Arialla bowed her head, trying to keep her disappointment from showing. Of course, it was blunted by the fact that she'd expected as much for weeks. And she appreciated Safrin's honesty. The goddess could have easily given Arialla false hope, if all she'd wanted was a weapon against the Voice.
Stiffening her shoulders slightly, Arialla tried to put her hurt aside and move on. She couldn't completely kill the hope that someday, if she searched long enough, she might find some truth unknown even to a goddess. But she could no longer spend her days waiting for that unlikely outcome. So now what?
She took a deep breath, struggling to shake the last inkling that perhaps she should talk to the Voice -- get the information straight from the horse's mouth, as it were -- before she wrote off the possibility of the Voice's help completely. She suspected the Voice would mislead her -- string her along, tell her that if only she finished this next task perhaps she could go home -- but who was to say that Safrin wasn't misleading her too?
Well, Safrin hadn't promised her anything.
"I don't know what to do with myself if I'm not trying to get home," Arialla said. She suspected, rather cynically, that Safrin might have some ideas. But, just to make her intentions clear, she added, "But I wouldn't mind making the Voice regret destroying my life."
please don't take my sunshine away
