The Spark Divine

"I was unaware that I ought to inform you about such things," Ludo said mildly back to Jigano, a slightly crooked smirk on her youthful face, even as she dangled willing fingers over the little fluffball so keen for her attention. In truth the deity would have likely bartered for Isuma in that moment, and it was only when it looked as though their deal was done that she rose to her feet once more. Gently, she shook her head to Amalia. "This task cannot hurt anyone. Those it affects have already been hurt enough," she said. "Rest assured, I will make it worth your while should you be successful - both of you. Are we in agreement?" LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

The weary lorekeeper couldn't quite find it in him to smile, but there was a spark of wry humor at Ludo's gentle chastising, not entirely unearned. "My apologies, Ludo. It simply caught me by surprise." Something the god rather excelled at doing, and enjoyed immensely from what Jigano had heard and experienced on his own. Still, this was a far milder trick to pull than frightening him with the memories of dead friends, and he counted himself lucky that Amalia was not soon to be joining their ranks.

As Ludo turned to the brave, fierce, gentle baker the bard hummed softly, coaxing a reluctant Isuma away from the goddess's feet. She came eagerly enough, hopping into his lap with a small squeak as she burrowed into his hands demanding more scratches and pets. The lightening of his mood at seeing Amalia regaining her strength and having a purpose of his own affected her as well, and she purred contentedly as he looked up again to Ludo, blue eyes solemn.

"Yes," he said simply, for once not filling the silence with flowery phrases or clever turns of phrase. The assent was all that was needed; the rest had already been said. He turned his head to glance at Amalia, but he had no doubt that his friend and fellow loreseeker would join him in lighting the way home for the souls of those who had been lost.

a m a l i a In truth, there is much that scares her about this task: the dark, the deep, the dead. She fears death, but also fears how much she wanted it, how close she came an and how strongly she ached. What if she succumbs again, falls to the allure of freedom, peace? Will Safrin judge her for her sins? Will Vi? To welcome Vi is to welcome Mort. She swallows the insecurity, buries it away. She has to try. To do her best. It is all they can do, in the end. The promise of painlessness is all she wants. There is no reward the girl would ask for: to have a purpose is payment enough, and it is with gratitude in her heart that she nods her head, willingly assenting to serve, to help. "Yes," she answers, echoing Jigano, the antler still  clutched in her hand. Her dark gaze shifts to her tall companion, a smile drifting near her lips. If she is going into the unknown, it will be good to have a friend, selfish as that may be.

Yes. Yes, then. Ludo smiled sweetly between the two of them, stepping back to stand upon the altar once more. "Then I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your LongNight. Keep your boon close, sweetling. It is invaluable." This she directed to Amalia and her glowing antler, giving them a quiet nod. "Until we next meet, then," said Ludo. Promptly it exploded into rags, dark and deep and endless, though they were gentle as they brushed across Amalia and Jigano. When sight returned, the lanterns dimmed and Ludo was gone. LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own