Arialla nodded, happy to agree with Mildew's assessment of the Voice and her divinity, or lack thereof. "I mourn for the people she's deceived, those whose lives she's torn apart and whose souls she's diverted from Mort's realm."
Really, Arialla could count her own among those torn-apart lives, but at least she wasn't Ascended, beholden to the false goddess, bereft of her immortal soul as well as her earthly freedom. Though "freedom" was not among the concepts Arialla valued most, honestly; she had always tied herself to one god or another, never questioning her need for allegiance to someone.
"You have a point," Arialla admitted, though her own home's folklore had always suggested that prophecies were more trap than aid. And then Mildew mentioned the fight, and Arialla almost flinched, barely holding back her reaction. She did frown deeply. "I've sworn myself to Safrin, and I will do whatever she asks of me -- I would gladly work against the Voice. But I'll freely admit that I don't look forward to open war. I have never been violent."
That said ... If it would help prepare her for the future, then: "I would appreciate your insights."
please don't take my sunshine away
