"I will certainly try," Arialla said, a bit bashful, glancing down. Then she looked back up, curious about what Mildew might be looking for -- but not curious enough to ask.
Instead she nodded, unintentionally making a bit of a face at the mention of the Voice and the problems she'd caused. "I think I heard somewhere that she was once mortal, and seeks to make herself a god. I hope she fails."
And it wasn't just her personal dislike of the Voice that made Arialla say that, either. Back home, mortals could occasionally ascend to godhood, but only through the actions of other, greater gods, like the selection of demigods in Caido. If just anyone could pick up one day and decided they wanted to be a god -- could develop some kind of technology to make themself so -- it would be chaos. How would you know who to worship?
Arialla's eyes widened at Mildew's offer, and she hesitated. Oh, she didn't doubt that Mildew could tell her what the future held -- she had worshiped the god of prophecy, after all, and never questioned whether such a power existed. And if it existed anywhere, this mysterious woman in the depths of the swamp seemed perfectly likely to hold it. But did Arialla actually want to know what the future held? Her home was full of stories of people who caused prophecies to come true precisely by trying to avoid them. These stories were usually tragedies.
"I'm not sure I want to know," she admitted.
please don't take my sunshine away
