The creatures Jigano described were familiar to Caiside in some ways, and utterly alien sounding in others. “We has no such thing on my world, at least none I had ever heard of. There were cults in the east that drank blood to obtain half measures of power, and creatures in the north that hunted anything that dared to enter its territory in the shroud of night, but nothing that combined these things.” It was a strange thing for Caiside to try to wrap his head around. The fact that a world so sparse could contain something he had never heard of, even in myth, was impressive, and almost irritating. He didn’t want any reason to grow too interestesnin this place.
His face crumpled as Jigano explained that some people still had magic, in a way. He had never agreed more with a sentiment than the one the bard shared. Why them, and not me? He had made his name worth something, he had worked himself bloody and fought anything that for in his way however he had had to, and this is how he was repaid? Even the question about himself didn’t perk him up as much as it would usually, though his face did clear.
”I was a lord of fire, and rebirth. An avatar of forest fires. In my most divine form, I was a great stag, with smouldering antlers.” He reached up as he spoke, brushing the scars on his forehead when his horns had once sat proudly all the time, in all forms. ”I have lost my fire, but not all of my forms.” It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, sharing that with Jigano, who was a stranger, in a land who’s customs and prejudices he didn’t know, but some part of Caiside still wanted to feel important, and impressive.’
His face crumpled as Jigano explained that some people still had magic, in a way. He had never agreed more with a sentiment than the one the bard shared. Why them, and not me? He had made his name worth something, he had worked himself bloody and fought anything that for in his way however he had had to, and this is how he was repaid? Even the question about himself didn’t perk him up as much as it would usually, though his face did clear.
”I was a lord of fire, and rebirth. An avatar of forest fires. In my most divine form, I was a great stag, with smouldering antlers.” He reached up as he spoke, brushing the scars on his forehead when his horns had once sat proudly all the time, in all forms. ”I have lost my fire, but not all of my forms.” It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, sharing that with Jigano, who was a stranger, in a land who’s customs and prejudices he didn’t know, but some part of Caiside still wanted to feel important, and impressive.’
