SEREN
For every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Seren's mind had actually been on other people entirely. Sah, his new adopted family. Ray, Harper; the innocent bystanders who would inevitably be caught up in the turmoil if the new leaders pursued their own personal vendettas. But when Hotaru's name was brought up, Seren did sigh and nod, because inevitably that was where it had to begin.
"No, of course she will not. Nor will you, I imagine. You killed her companion, so tightly bound to her soul that he might as well have been a piece of herself. And she tried to kill you for doing so... and nearly succeded, I hear. Neither of you can be expected to forget that, or even forgive." She thunked her staff thoughtfully against a branch overhead, and dislodged a swarm of modilu flies in the process. Their shimmering wings shifted and changed color as they hovered around the woman, alternating shades of introspective blue, slashed through with the odd touch of purple dignity or vexation pink. "I really hope that both of you will be able to set those feelings aside, however. War... it is coming. We all know that. It could happen tomorrow, for all that we've been given a schedule. Halo and Torchline will surely need to stand united to survive what is coming, and the sooner that can be achieved, the better. Unless you think Torchline can face this alone?"
She had read too many books on past battles where discord between allies had spelled doom to not be concerned. Still, she gazed at Aurelia, giving the woman a chance to speak. She was the leader here... supposedly the Fireheart would know this already.
The confession - because that's what it smacked of, even though it probably was meant as a confidence - was met with a faint grimace. The notion of attributing the monster in her bedtime stories with anything good was difficult, and there was a surreptitious glance upwards, to the barely visible sky, as if Safrin might descend on them merely for suggesting such a thing.
"I wouldn't be here either, if her constructs hadn't brougth dad from his homeworld," Seren replied, in reluctant admission. "Though... I'm not sure gratitude is what I feel for that. If all the war and death and suffering over these centuries could be erased by my never existing... I would gladly trade."
"No, of course she will not. Nor will you, I imagine. You killed her companion, so tightly bound to her soul that he might as well have been a piece of herself. And she tried to kill you for doing so... and nearly succeded, I hear. Neither of you can be expected to forget that, or even forgive." She thunked her staff thoughtfully against a branch overhead, and dislodged a swarm of modilu flies in the process. Their shimmering wings shifted and changed color as they hovered around the woman, alternating shades of introspective blue, slashed through with the odd touch of purple dignity or vexation pink. "I really hope that both of you will be able to set those feelings aside, however. War... it is coming. We all know that. It could happen tomorrow, for all that we've been given a schedule. Halo and Torchline will surely need to stand united to survive what is coming, and the sooner that can be achieved, the better. Unless you think Torchline can face this alone?"
She had read too many books on past battles where discord between allies had spelled doom to not be concerned. Still, she gazed at Aurelia, giving the woman a chance to speak. She was the leader here... supposedly the Fireheart would know this already.
The confession - because that's what it smacked of, even though it probably was meant as a confidence - was met with a faint grimace. The notion of attributing the monster in her bedtime stories with anything good was difficult, and there was a surreptitious glance upwards, to the barely visible sky, as if Safrin might descend on them merely for suggesting such a thing.
"I wouldn't be here either, if her constructs hadn't brougth dad from his homeworld," Seren replied, in reluctant admission. "Though... I'm not sure gratitude is what I feel for that. If all the war and death and suffering over these centuries could be erased by my never existing... I would gladly trade."
In every dreamer a dream - we're unstoppable
with something to believe in
with something to believe in
