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The God was used to mortals of all shapes, sizes, and beliefs visiting the decaying shrines that hung on the precipice of the earth. Allegiance was only a single variable in the equation of desire and the complexities of a mortal soul. Magic for an individual did not always reflect the faith or herd they belonged to. And sometimes, any magic would do. This particular gleaming gem of a soul had once belonged to his brother's flock, and yet now...his spirit was dusted with earth and freedom, boundless and untied. The God watched, a silent and intangible presence, as the stallion placed his weapon upon the stone like an offering. And yet no words accompanied his request, though the Lord could have easily plucked it from his mind if he so desired.
Instead, the mighty beast gave a gentle smile and appeared before Ashamin in the space of a blink, dust and earth falling in a soft whispering cadence from his skin. Tallsun was especially hot this year, and so he would reflect his brother's decisions just as the earth did the sun. Fanning wings settle at muscular sides, and warm eyes descend upon the painted buck.
"Not even a word of request from one who had held the title of Haruspex?" But it is a playfully teasing chastisement if one at all. Long, sap-like tail flicked around idly, sweeping against his legs as the God dropped his gaze to where the weapon lay on the humble pedestal of stone. A soft, contemplative hum rumbled in his throat as he regarded the inverted curved blades. But he would not do all the work, and looked expectantly at Ashamin with a kind smile.
"What is it you seek from this blade, Ashamin?" He had evolved from a quiet, peaceful soul to a warrior. A faithful prophet to a wandering teacher. Much about Ashamin had changed, and already the God knew what he would ask of this mighty fellow.
Only one enchantment can be quested for at a time! Ashamin can choose which one he would like to pursue here.
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[P] [Earth or Sun] Gifts of the Lost
