"Fie! 'Twas no singular choice that led me hither. We do not expect thou to understand our ways, but we are merely one link in a very long chain of sustainers. We knew not that we were destined to be the last..." She trailed off, golden eyes searching the features of this facsimile of a face for greater insight as to what Arcas knew and why he'd come in this fashion. His words would soon answer anything his visage failed to impart.
"We are not thy devotee, thou Echo of Arcas." Thalya spat back, "Our concerns lie with our own Gods. The exploit upon which we embark will mend the rift that sunders us from Them. You are correct that this requireth Sacrifice, but our Faith doth not demand we suffer or humble ourselves to render up our tithes and tributes. Næ, we would warrant quite the contrary. Wherefore should we mar our majesty with compromises, when we might yet claim all that hath henceforth been abjured from us." She rose, smiling. If Arcas deigned to come before her with entreaties... if she was, indeed, 'meddling in the affairs of the gods' in a manner which demanded his intervention, then the fibres of her prospective eventualities were strong... her paths to betterment and aggrandisement numbered more than she'd dared to dream. She could feel them now, bursting with promise in profusion.
"You are not wrong to shame us, though you do not understand our ways enough to ken where our true failings lie. Know thou this: We are contrite. We repent us our trespasses. But to repent, we must revise..." There was a lean and hungry look about her as she leaned forward- fixing her gaze to meet his, rather than shirking away from it.
"And for a lifetime of stagnancy, we must render up a mighty, meteoric moment to erase our former aimlesness in favour of the brazen, blazing horizon." Her eyes shifted, to look beyond Arcas' astral projection. She stood, extending a quivering hand to point to the window as she stalked through and past Arcas to regard the world outside.
"You may dismiss us as a simple mortal, if it serveth thine ego to do so, but our blood is twofold blessed with the Founders' untainted divinity and our Craft is yet robust. We can see things denied thine eyes and oh, what splendour lieth ahead for all the realms of Ransera. If..." She turned sharply to face him once more,
"...if you stand not athwart us. Thou art the cataclysm. When thou dost act, chaos aboundeth. When thou standeth still, the world doth improve." Her voice was a thousand voices, all of them urging Arcas... seeming to weave into his astral projection, following the path he took through the light of Auris all the way back to where he sat in Solunarium. The impulse was simple. She knew better than to search the Symphony of a demigod, but she would hazard to sow a simple seed into his salient Symphony whilst he was vulnerable in his meditation. It was not so much an incursion as a matter of course: Doubt thyself, it demanded. Know thy failings, it compelled. Lose thyself in the abyss of thine own inadequacy, it insisted.
"We are not thy devotee, thou Echo of Arcas." Thalya spat back, "Our concerns lie with our own Gods. The exploit upon which we embark will mend the rift that sunders us from Them. You are correct that this requireth Sacrifice, but our Faith doth not demand we suffer or humble ourselves to render up our tithes and tributes. Næ, we would warrant quite the contrary. Wherefore should we mar our majesty with compromises, when we might yet claim all that hath henceforth been abjured from us." She rose, smiling. If Arcas deigned to come before her with entreaties... if she was, indeed, 'meddling in the affairs of the gods' in a manner which demanded his intervention, then the fibres of her prospective eventualities were strong... her paths to betterment and aggrandisement numbered more than she'd dared to dream. She could feel them now, bursting with promise in profusion.
"You are not wrong to shame us, though you do not understand our ways enough to ken where our true failings lie. Know thou this: We are contrite. We repent us our trespasses. But to repent, we must revise..." There was a lean and hungry look about her as she leaned forward- fixing her gaze to meet his, rather than shirking away from it.
"And for a lifetime of stagnancy, we must render up a mighty, meteoric moment to erase our former aimlesness in favour of the brazen, blazing horizon." Her eyes shifted, to look beyond Arcas' astral projection. She stood, extending a quivering hand to point to the window as she stalked through and past Arcas to regard the world outside.
"You may dismiss us as a simple mortal, if it serveth thine ego to do so, but our blood is twofold blessed with the Founders' untainted divinity and our Craft is yet robust. We can see things denied thine eyes and oh, what splendour lieth ahead for all the realms of Ransera. If..." She turned sharply to face him once more,
"...if you stand not athwart us. Thou art the cataclysm. When thou dost act, chaos aboundeth. When thou standeth still, the world doth improve." Her voice was a thousand voices, all of them urging Arcas... seeming to weave into his astral projection, following the path he took through the light of Auris all the way back to where he sat in Solunarium. The impulse was simple. She knew better than to search the Symphony of a demigod, but she would hazard to sow a simple seed into his salient Symphony whilst he was vulnerable in his meditation. It was not so much an incursion as a matter of course: Doubt thyself, it demanded. Know thy failings, it compelled. Lose thyself in the abyss of thine own inadequacy, it insisted.