Arialla might not live in the Hollowed Grounds full-time anymore, but she still liked visiting its Temple on occasion. Nothing in Torchline quite compared, quite gave her the religious aura that remained vital to her: she still half-considered herself a priestess, even if she'd largely transferred her loyalty to a new god. Of course, Arialla didn't need a temple to worship; at home she had often felt closest to Apollo out on the beach, in the hills, running through the sunshine, and here she suspected that a beautiful night sky put her in more worshipful state for Safrin than all the candles in the Temple. But there was still something important about a place of worship, especially an old one ... it was the community, Arialla imagined, the fact that other people came to the same place to worship the same god. Or, in this case, different ones, but still -- perhaps their prayers rose to the heavens better when spoken together.
She lit a candle for Safrin and another for Apollo and then glanced across the faces of the other worshipers -- and found one that stood out to her, a man who looked quite lost. His expression seemed familiar; as a priestess, Arialla knew the look of someone who needed a god but wasn't sure how to reach one. If she'd seen this man in her own temple, at home, she would have stepped out from behind a column and offered him counsel -- or perhaps asked one of the higher-ranking priestess to do so.
There was an additional layer of lost on his face, too, a little more mundane -- he looked like the entire world was new to him. Well, Arialla knew that look too; she had worn it herself, not so long ago.
She moved over to the man, saying, "Excuse me. It might be a little forward of me to ask but -- are you looking for something? Do you need help?"
please don't take my sunshine away
