Jigano sucked in a breath as an image of the young woman from the Underground shrine projected herself from the tree. As before he didn't step forward or move to interrupt, watching the play of light between the two women - one a god, the other a supplicant. And what was he? For the second time in less than twenty-four hours he was...
Apart.
There was a bittersweet familiarity to that feeling. His friend, his goddess, was beyond his reach now, and too young to her power to reach across worlds to him, here. Not that he had been brave enough to speak to her since her ascension, not with the weight that bowed his tarnished soul. But Isla, at least, had a goddess she had chosen, and one she reached out to with awe and wonder in her body language.
With a tilted smile on his lips, the bard found a nearby tree to lean against, to watch and listen to what passed in this unexpected meeting - and ready to step away if either woman or goddess desired privacy for their communion, unaware of how little either needed the conceit of audible speech to converse.
Apart.
There was a bittersweet familiarity to that feeling. His friend, his goddess, was beyond his reach now, and too young to her power to reach across worlds to him, here. Not that he had been brave enough to speak to her since her ascension, not with the weight that bowed his tarnished soul. But Isla, at least, had a goddess she had chosen, and one she reached out to with awe and wonder in her body language.
With a tilted smile on his lips, the bard found a nearby tree to lean against, to watch and listen to what passed in this unexpected meeting - and ready to step away if either woman or goddess desired privacy for their communion, unaware of how little either needed the conceit of audible speech to converse.
