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yael
The Gods are gone…
Her eyes close against the proclamation, finding confusion in her feelings as they begin to move beyond a mere simmer. She’s always thought herself an unusual choice for a Seer, having served (for lack of a better term) several masters in her many years, finding that each has an inkling of truth in them, but none are able to tell it without the very mortal emotions of jealousy and power-lust.
Guilt and Relief are locked in a stalemate, and it is with these heavy opposites does the golden woman turn to Amaris – one she’s come to hold close to her heart, almost like another daughter. “Amarees,” she responds softly, reaching out her nose to brush it against the scaled woman’s shoulder in a comforting and familiar manner. The Gods are Gone. She has no response to that, no words of hope for the future at this time. Because she knows that nothing will help this initial shock, and sometimes the best thing one can do is simply be there for others – a fluffy rock to witness the tears and fears of what is to come.
Yael herself is dry as a bone as guilt begins to win, sowing numbness in his tracks. Panic flees. Survival mode – mother mode – engages.
“So eet seems,” she ventures, and then Ingrid appears, with appropriately sacrilegious words that make the Seer smile, despite herself. “I am not sure, ‘onestlee. Ze precedence for zis… deed not breeng about ze end of ze vorld. But een a var of ze Gods, vich… t’is might be, eef Kaos xas lied… no vone can know vhat ees to come.” Her glance travels almost apologetically between the two of them; Ingrid knows nothing about her role in distributing Kaos’s message. She can only hope that Amaris, maybe, won’t remember. And if she does, that she will merely think the Seer to be mortal, and fallible – at fault, just like the Gods.
trust your heart if the seas catch fire
live by love, though the stars walk backwards
@Amaris @Ingrid
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Force and magic allowed, no death please
