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The God had found that for the mortals, finding the words to describe the pain that they wore on their hearts and sleeves, was often the first step in the healing process. And so he let Volterra speak his mind, no matter how wandering his thoughts might have been. During the pauses, the God watched with a kind stare and a slightly lowered head, for now was not the time for the intimidating and strong presence that he was normally associated with. He might have been larger than life like the mountains that surrounded Helovia, equally he could be soft in a way that stones often could not.
He was slightly surprised to know that the warrior had used his gifted flower to speak with the God about Isopia. After these long years of dealing with mortals and knowing their minds and hearts, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that one of the most valuable offerings he could have given - a chance to speak with a God about any topic and at any time - that it would be used to discuss a girl. It made the God want to smile, ruffle Volterra's forelock, and tell him that everything would be alright, as any Father would. But of course this ran deeper than a mere heartbreak. This involved murder, treachery, and a great deal of misunderstood conversations. The God did not take this relationship between the monochromatic giant and his daughter lightly, but still the lines on his face sketched a small amount of surprise none the less.
"He." The God said finally once Volterra had finished speaking. The single word sounded dry and tired as it slipped from the God's lips, and his verdant stare seemed deep and troubled. Swallowing exaggeratedly as if his throat had been parched for a thousand years, he cough slightly, and clarified. "The foal was a boy." Clearly Isopia had decided not to share that piece of information, but The God thought Volterra deserved to know, especially now that he had been made aware of the child's (brief) existence. If Isopia took issue with that, she knew where to find him. His duty was not to maintain her lies.
"You are not too stupid." The God began, finally addressing the bulk of what Volterra had come here to say. "My daughter's motives and intentions are veiled at the best of times. If she was upset with you, it is not surprising in the least that the reasons seem difficult to pin down, or understand." The God sighed, feeling as though he owed Volterra whatever explanation he could give, however meager, but also as though he was betraying his daughter. Then again the God did know that she had tried to communicate some of this to Volterra ... The man simply had not understood. Surely there was no harm in just helping to translate?
"Isopia ... thinks differently than most, and when it comes to her feelings, despite her normal nature, she is a poor communicator." Another pause, followed by a deep breath. "I'm sure the timeline of Isopia's pregnancy is no mystery to you." The God began, looking almost uncomfortable with discussing the topic of his daughter's sexual exploits with her partner in crime. "It wasn't long after that, before her sides had really begun to swell that she met both Kid and Zhu." The God frowned openly at Volterra, his face a clear ' :/ ' of disapproval. So many children, so little time, that look seemed to say. And despite the reproductive nature of, well nature, the God clearly did not seem to extend the same expectations of the mortals.
"She might have weathered the knowledge that her child would not be unique to you, or even one of only a handful that you had sired, but .." The God paused again. These weren't facts Isopia had told him, but when he came to her in her clearing, she had bore her entire mind before him, to see and learn as he would. "..she met Tyrath, son of Aithniel." The God's disapproving look softened somewhat, as he thought of his daughter and the hard edges of her life. Aithniel had been the first acquaintance that Isopia had made, so many seasons ago when he had set them about boat-building tasks. Perhaps it was just because Aithniel was her family, or because she was something like a friend, that Isopia took it so hard. "Cousins, you know." The God rumbled, that think before you act twinkle back in his eye. "And so, disillusioned by ... Well, whatever it was she felt between the two of you-" (If his daughter had not yet told the stallion that she loved him, he would not do so for her. That was a secret he was happy to keep). "-she found herself in the middle of a spar. Her opponent's magic ... " He could see Ashamin's magical facsimile, and the very real wound that it caused in Isopia's belly. "... The child would have died instantly. She gave birth to him still-born, and buried him."
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[P] and all we are left with is embers [earth]
