Seren
Picking her way over uneven ground, walking lightly where the rock still smoked and smoldered, Seren leaned in to admire a patch of sulphur crystals while she listened. It looked like she wasn't paying attention, but every word offered was absorbed and considered, much like her rocks.
"It was a nasty thing, the blight," she hummed, in sympathetic acknowledgement of the plight he had suffered. "Would you meet Tanau again, if you could? Now that circumstances are better." She was curious about the seasonal gods, no doubt about it.
Casting a glance up at Umbra, Seren turned her attention properly on Deimos when the lid on his thoughts was cracked open. Just a smidge, and far easier than last time. It moved her, to realize that she might be earning some measure of trust.
"What do you mean, by 'not right?'" she asked gently, hoping he might elaborate. Certainly with war and threats and unrest in the world, it was becoming hard to see the silver linings.
As for the Voice and her abilities... Seren hunched down and turned a rock over, to find a pool of glowing lava beneath. Or was it? The thing quickly bled away, mercury slick and disinterested in her attempts to follow. "I... after I used the portal to get home, mother scolded me," she revealed. "She said that the Voice can learn things about people who pass through, and that she might grow strong enough to control them. One day. I... was not aware that she could already do that to her own." Or could she? Seren wasn't sure, only knew that it unsettled her to think about.
Then her question was reflected back on herself, and the girl gave Deimos a tight lipped smile. "I've been better," she admitted. "It's quite overwhelming, to go from utter peace and calm to this beautiful chaos." An expansive gesture indicated the surroundings, the landscape - Deimos himself representing the people she met. Night trailed in the wake of her hand, and managed to startle her into a flinch. She tucked the hands away, as if that might make the fantastical phenomenon go away. "I used to be so calm and sure about how the world worked. Mother's words was all I had and all I needed, but now... I hear people talk, and offer their views, and it's like I'm slowly drowning in a torrent of voices. Sometimes I can't hear myself anymore, or mother."
Doubt, it was called. Uncertainty and doubt, and the immense pressure to make choices that would effect lives beyond anything she had the ability or experience to comprehend.
"It was a nasty thing, the blight," she hummed, in sympathetic acknowledgement of the plight he had suffered. "Would you meet Tanau again, if you could? Now that circumstances are better." She was curious about the seasonal gods, no doubt about it.
Casting a glance up at Umbra, Seren turned her attention properly on Deimos when the lid on his thoughts was cracked open. Just a smidge, and far easier than last time. It moved her, to realize that she might be earning some measure of trust.
"What do you mean, by 'not right?'" she asked gently, hoping he might elaborate. Certainly with war and threats and unrest in the world, it was becoming hard to see the silver linings.
As for the Voice and her abilities... Seren hunched down and turned a rock over, to find a pool of glowing lava beneath. Or was it? The thing quickly bled away, mercury slick and disinterested in her attempts to follow. "I... after I used the portal to get home, mother scolded me," she revealed. "She said that the Voice can learn things about people who pass through, and that she might grow strong enough to control them. One day. I... was not aware that she could already do that to her own." Or could she? Seren wasn't sure, only knew that it unsettled her to think about.
Then her question was reflected back on herself, and the girl gave Deimos a tight lipped smile. "I've been better," she admitted. "It's quite overwhelming, to go from utter peace and calm to this beautiful chaos." An expansive gesture indicated the surroundings, the landscape - Deimos himself representing the people she met. Night trailed in the wake of her hand, and managed to startle her into a flinch. She tucked the hands away, as if that might make the fantastical phenomenon go away. "I used to be so calm and sure about how the world worked. Mother's words was all I had and all I needed, but now... I hear people talk, and offer their views, and it's like I'm slowly drowning in a torrent of voices. Sometimes I can't hear myself anymore, or mother."
Doubt, it was called. Uncertainty and doubt, and the immense pressure to make choices that would effect lives beyond anything she had the ability or experience to comprehend.
Battle born they send us
Covered in our noble blood
Covered in our noble blood
