The half-child watches with curiosity and bated breath as the golden god chastises those who have performed foolishly and provides loving guidance to those who have pleased him. Adelric,of course, is privy to neither. He has not acted out enough to earn the god’s ire, but he has not performed well enough to be doted upon. He is not surprised. As he noted before, he is not worthy, not important enough to be noticed, to be paid any mind to. In fact, he feels bad that he has tainted Erebos’ grandeur with his unworthiness. “I’m sorry,” he says to the Night Phoenix, but knows that it will not be enough. Surely Erebos, the brilliant child that he is, expected some notice from the fiery deity. Adelric has disappointed him.

Still, though the half-child feels that he should leave, that he should take his contemptible body from this place, he cannot bring himself to go. He hesitates, watching the god, taking in what he can see, noting what is said and what gifts are provided to whom, and still… Still there is no answer to his question, no explanation for the grandiose implications that magic brings. The question eats at him, tears his tiny soul to pieces, because he cannot fathom how the power of someone so great as the sun god himself can live in the mere mortal body of a horse, a unicorn, a pegasus, to be commanded at their will, to be contained enough to not tear their bodies to pieces. He sighs, mis-matched eyes looking around him, and he almost breathes the question, almost dares to ask it, and then… Her. His eyes fall upon Ophelia, though he does not know her name, and he widens his eyes in surprise. It is the mare with the two-toned eyes again, the one he found before in the caves, and now he is torn in two.

He needs to ask Ophelia a question, ask her about her eyes, because he feels that his own mis-matched pair that stare back at him from his reflection in the waters of his home make him half a whole, lesser than the rest of his herd and friends and companions. Of course, there are other reasons that he is convinced that he is a half-child. So maybe he should not ask her, because he will offend her. Perhaps she has managed to forget about her mis-matched eyes and has protected herself with the normal, the good, the worthy and whole aspects of herself. No, he should not speak to her- he convinces himself that he will only upset her. So instead of saying anything, the half-child looks between Ophelia and the Sun God, a question for both hidden just beyond his lips, plainly visible on his face and in his eyes, but he says nothing. He is a silent statue, lost in the chaos that surrounds the brilliant god and his flowers.


OOC| Don’t mind Adie, being a creep. If nobody says anything to him, you can just assume that he sneaks off to somewhere else ;)

Adelric