“You should take solace, Karrhei. These are merely matters of demigods. Cogitate:” Rhydian smiled, pleased to be engaging in exercises of the mind.
“If a demigod is the conjunction of mortal and divine and Hytori are the first race to be afflicted with mortality, who is the elder? And what does that betoken?” Rhydian might have felt at a disadvantage to be broaching matters of divinity with an actual cleric, but he did not really distinguish theology from any other sort of philosophy. As his line of thought may have suggested, he regarded gods in the context of the stories history of his own race. Had the Hytori not been as deities in the extraterrestrial realms they once ruled, even if they were not on par with the likes of gods as they were perceived on Ransera? It was all, Rhydian believed, a matter of perspective.
He sighed.
“Oh, how I wish my instructions were clearer… More direct.” He shook his head. “But even as gods are cryptic to the eyes of the mortal races, so too is our god-anointed liege a mystery to mortals such as I.” The prince turned his face away and downward, before rising from his seated position and beginning to emerge from the sunken bath. Although Serrhion was otherwise engaged, another servant rushed to attention and collected his robe. Rhydian opened his arms and, sensing the water still on his skin with his aether sense, he used his Craft of Kinetics to push it away from his flesh. Once dry, he nodded to the servant with the robe, who approached to close it around his slender shoulders.
“Is it sacrilegious, do you think? For me to colour myself in the tones of a cleric for attending the Phoenix King as you do Suion?”
