KAJ

the aurelight

Kaj was a new student to faith. Ophelia had placed the path before him, only the most meager of guidance, and from there his own trials had begun. Who to follow, firstly? How could he pick a god to follow when he knew none of them, and the only magic he had had appeared without reason, from a God he'd never known and who did not rule his lands? He was torn between the Sun that he embodied and the steady Earth that had always kept him rooted and firm, the one that ruled over the lands Kaj lead. And how to be faithful? Prayers were new to him, but they came with ease the more he practiced them. He longed to understand, to know, and though he intended to seek out Isopia it seemed that the god battles had interfered with any plans he'd had before. So his trail to piety was a wandering, stuttering thing, with no mentor and a hesitancy to devote himself to a god when he himself was so mortal and undeserving. 

His viewpoint was uncommon, or so others said. Perhaps being in nigh constant agreement with Isopia was also indicative of his irregularity. He hadn't fought in the Time God's battle, for all his stature and skill set favored war and brutality. He hadn't understood those who fought against the Moon Goddess, for all the havoc and pain she'd created within his family. If there was one thing Kaj could not stand, it was not understanding, and with nobody to ask he was left grasping for something just out of reach, trying to be faithful and religious but not knowing how to emulate the methods of those around him. He could not pray how they prayed, could not see what they saw. How could he be pious if he had no guide, no pattern to try and replicate and adapt to himself? Was his faith even beneficial to the gods, even noted?

In solitude he had wandered, beneath the warm sun that eased the ache of his leg and the deadened state of his shoulder. Kaj had no purpose, no real goal, though he migrated towards the Veins as if subconsciously. The place he'd first knelt in honest prayer, where he'd encountered Ophelia and her steadfast belief in the Sun. Perhaps his answers lay there, in the broken shrines of the Gods, for abandoned though it was it surely had to hold some lingering amount of meaning and magic. 

Dawn was rising upon his arrival, painting the sky in shades of rose and gold, promising another day of warmth and clear sunlight. Kaj was already awaiting it, the cold of the night having caused his shoulder to clench maliciously once more. He'd walked most of the night, if only to try and ease the pain, the misfiring nerves that ached to the bone and made his shoulder feel both twitchy and dead all over. A phantom sensation perhaps. His gait was stiff with the lack of mobility, but he strode onward stubbornly, across ebonite rock and the warm glow of electric blue lava. Hooves clicked on stone, the only sound to accompany him on this trek, this religious journey. The Aurelight expected no answer, for he was but a mortal man and undeserving of a private celestial visit. He sought only a resolution to his problem, perhaps through meditation, a deep soul searching that he could not achieve in the Falls.

When he came to the meeting point of all four shrines, he hesitated. It seemed impolite to pick one without having solidified which God he desired to follow, after all. At first he instinctively attempted to kneel, no matter how uncomfortable laying upon the rock would be. At least, until his shoulder gave an angry spasm, objecting loudly to the stance he'd tried to take. Frustrated tears pricked angrily behind Kaj's eyes, though he'd let them go no further. He could not even kneel to show his reverence, his respect, and he was overcome with a wash of explosive irritation and helplessness. He kicked wildly at an errant stone, gait dancing across the stone as if spooked, tail thrashing against his hocks and wings arcing in powerful, agitated display.

"What am I supposed to do?!" he cried, trying not to let the tears get the best of him, feeling foolish and broken. He calmed slowly, chest heaving with his uncharacteristic tantrum, head dropping so low his lips brushed the warm stone below. Ears and wings drooped, sagging alongside his shoulders, defeated as he stood at the crossroads of the shrines. "How do I show you my faith?" he crooned woundedly, feeling useless as his leg throbbed to ridicule him further. A broken man's faith was surely not worth as much as another's. What was he hoping to achieve?