She will never pretend to know the capricious nature of the God(s), either the one she originally worshipped, the spirit of B’kanna, or whomever watches over Xelovia. There is no other word to truly describe their outlook on their worlds, why they do the things they do, how exacting they are of their followers, or any number of other decisions they make. In fact, given the prevalence of magic outside Yisrael, Yael is more and more apt to come to the following conclusion: that her first G-d was the wrong God, or better yet, not a God at all, but a figment of the imagination made up to keep the tribes under control of the spiritual leaders. It wouldn’t be the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard of - those in power often do unspeakable things to keep their power - and creating a primogeniture and class based system is far easier than continuously waging war. Who wouldn’t fall in line with the threat of ostracization and insinuated certain death hanging over their heads?

Is there a ‘right’ God? Probably not. If every land has a different creator, it couldn’t possible be that only one of them is ‘right’ and the rest are ‘wrong.’ And if several work as a team? Well, everyone has a favorite parent, right? So it must be like that.

Like what? Isopia asks, and Yael is almost surprised to hear her ask a question. Before she answers, however, the golden stranger struggles with wondering whether or not this mare believes her. She can’t detect any sarcasm, but the lady seemed to have a fairly level tone, no matter what the topic. And yet, she can think of no reason to lie, for further inquiries about the how’s and what does it feel like to do…? would surely prove her experiences are true. With a deep breath and her eyes on the winged mare at her wide, Yael begins to list the powers of her past. “Shapesheefteeng, empat’ee, xealeeng… element maneepulation, telepat’ee, eenveesibilitee, construction, protecteeve barriers, resurrection… “ Her voice trails off, and her gaze drops to the ground. “I tried to do good vit eet all, but een ze end… ah, perxaps I failed.” Her shoulders shrug, because there is nothing else she can do, and no way now that she could ever rectify her more controversial actions.

At least Isopia takes over the conversation again, and there are some things she strategically avoids saying that strike Yael as rather odd. Not only does she not answer the question, but she seems to imply that she is part of the heart of Xelovia. There are many who would boast about having a powerful father, and at first, Yael thinks she might be the daughter of one of the Kings of a herd. But then why would she be unable to leave? Balance, though, that is… something different. It speaks of a greater responsibility than governance, as if the fate of the land itself lay before her. Curious and curiouser.

It is best to be direct - politely so. “You seem to teeptoe around vhat eet ees your fazer does, vhat your role ees.” Had Yael hands, she would have thrown them up in a gesture of goodwill and reassurance, but her words must now suffice. “I shall not pry, but I am cureeous… a Keeng, or… more? Ach, eet ees no matter. Keep your seecret, I xaf nozing to try and get from you.” she says lightly, jokingly, meaning it entirely and quickly moving on. She indicates towards the little bronze dragon next. “Xoo ees your beautiful freend? Eet seems kite deevoted to you? I xaf seen ozers vit freends too, but t’ey ahr not all dragons…”    

yael

by night, tie your heart to mine, and the two
together in sleep shall defeat the darkness