SWP :: Gods do die Part III

the Rift

SWP :: Gods do die Part III

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264

Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6

Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE

Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz

#10

08-30-2015, 06:25 PM (This post was last modified: 08-30-2015, 06:26 PM by Maren.)

"This God... I think he is angered by our presence, I'm... I'm unsure.”

The waterfall played soundlessly in her ears as she focused on the words he spoke to enlighten her troubled mind. But somehow the storm was still raging in her head and that told her that perhaps... it was not enough. She gritted her teeth again, Ashamin moved towards her and brushed his cheek against hers, leaving more blood on her before so pearly white hide. But as she stood there she suddenly became slightly confused again. Is he blessing me? It felt rather gently... —But she still felt the pain and she still felt the frustration and her shadowing frown still crowned her eyes. Whispering her thoughts into his stained neck, she said: “Isn’t it the other way around?” (It was a good blessing, she decided, making sure to remember it.) “Your God took his land.” Speculation.

That was all it was. Perhaps it was just to early too ask questions.

She decided to seek him out later if needed, when this was all over, when she had her theories. Confirmed — or not.

She was’n’t a big fan of being commanded, especially in life-threatening situations she preferred seeking her own council. Nevertheless, she smelled it in the air too, so she ran after him, stretching her burned skin as she hurried out of the way of the falling god.

But as he did, in all of his ill and forsaken holiness, the landscaping started to change once again. This time not like she ran into another portrait, but rather into another season; a prettier one as if it had freed itself from sickness. It is over.

Her silent eyes still wandering, pulled in the sight of the unharmed little dove, making the Diviner smile. Then suddenly she felt the gaze of a God and towards her a small vial was thrown. She caught it in the nest of feathers on her crown and she took it to her eye. Held between two marble white feathers crimson red shimmered in the renewed sunlight and she wondered what it meant that the God of the Spark wanted her to have this in her possession. She was just putting it safely in the armpit of her left wing when she heard a sound from behind her. She hissed between her teeth when she saw the Haruspex faint or something and she hurried after him into the shadows were halo's glowed. In a quick glance she saw that he was still alive, but bent over a pile of bone. “Tell me you are only taking that to examine,” she said with judging raised eyebrows and disbelief. Although she had her doubts. “That is the carcass of an ill God,” she attempted to remind the priest with slightly pitching voice. As it became part of him, she turned around in irritation. She had had enough today and she was tired. “I will never tell you you look cool with that,” she mumbled shaking her head hopelessly as she turned her back to him. What do I care. She needed to seek out real answers, but where the God of the Spark had been was no one anymore.

The clash of the Gods in the mortal-world was over and the God of the Spark had gone home sweet home to his unharmed cotton-crystal palace. His people left with their wounds.

Again she held the vial of the dead Bear God's blood before her silent eye and she reminded herself: This is what my life is worth.

In her ears echoed shrieks for help.

She sighed and then turned her head to lick her burns. They stung and they itched when they didn’t bite and she needed to seek out the help of a healer, but something told her she would need to get in line.

Talking
Notes:

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@[Ashamin]

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