Faith of the Heart
When Sivan stepped inside and left Destyn to his own devices, albeit surrounded by Sivan's spirit companions who dutifully tended the garden, the Fae youth returned to the little mound of dirt he'd made when he planted the seed from Ecith. He knelt before it and his knees, bare beneath the tattered edges of his well-worn breeches, were cooled by the grass, which groaned plaintively under his weight.
"Sorry." He wrinkled his nose, but he didn't feel particularly guilty. Grass was used to being trod upon, but some blades could be total drama queens about being mushed. With his perfunctory apology out of the way, Destyn peered at the mound under which the glowing green seed he'd found (or perhaps it had found him, as it landed directly on his head out of ostensibly nowhere) rested.
He pondered the strange vision he'd had shortly after planting it. The most striking thing he'd seen was that great, brown eye gaping at him, but there were so many details to ponder. The brightly coloured buggies... the putrid mount through which they dug. Even the way his vision swept around, as if in flight, was worthy of consideration, Destyn reckoned.
By and by it occurred to him he hadn't posed his prayers to his saviour yet. He used to do it every single day, but he wasn't as regimented anymore. He didn't know whether the benighted prince was even still alive to hear them, which saddened him deeply. But, in the absence of information, his prayers had turned toward the wellbeing of their intended recipient. He'd never asked for anything for himself. Before Talon's disappearance he might have inserted the odd hope for Torin or Sivan's sake, but since he'd been gone he was always praying for the salvation of his saviour. After all, prayers should give strength to gods, shouldn't they?
Being in Kalzasi, homeland of Talon, he hoped one of his errant benedictions might somehow pass whatever barrier lay between himself and the demigod. He shut his eyes.
"Dear Talon Shinsei, I hope that You are well and, you know, still existent. I am really sorry that Industry ruined Your special day. Industry is a cruel god who has, you know, also not been nice to me, so I, uhh... emphasise with you?" He wasn't certain he'd said that right, but he just shrugged. He wasn't sure if Talon could even hear him. If he could, he could always ask for clarity if he wanted.
"Anyway, I am in Kalzasi where you are, I think, missed the most. But sometimes I am also in South Ecith. I have an Amulet of Wandering, so I can dwell both continents, which is nice. I like my friends here, but the jungles feel more of home to me. I would like, again, to thank you for saving my life. It has taken a while, but I am starting to feel that, maybe, there is meaning again to existing, even in the absence of, you know, my clan. Um. Amen." He shrugged and opened his eyes, sighing as he leaned forward to pat down on the mound of soil that housed his special seed.
25 Frost, 122
When Sivan stepped inside and left Destyn to his own devices, albeit surrounded by Sivan's spirit companions who dutifully tended the garden, the Fae youth returned to the little mound of dirt he'd made when he planted the seed from Ecith. He knelt before it and his knees, bare beneath the tattered edges of his well-worn breeches, were cooled by the grass, which groaned plaintively under his weight.
"Sorry." He wrinkled his nose, but he didn't feel particularly guilty. Grass was used to being trod upon, but some blades could be total drama queens about being mushed. With his perfunctory apology out of the way, Destyn peered at the mound under which the glowing green seed he'd found (or perhaps it had found him, as it landed directly on his head out of ostensibly nowhere) rested.
He pondered the strange vision he'd had shortly after planting it. The most striking thing he'd seen was that great, brown eye gaping at him, but there were so many details to ponder. The brightly coloured buggies... the putrid mount through which they dug. Even the way his vision swept around, as if in flight, was worthy of consideration, Destyn reckoned.
By and by it occurred to him he hadn't posed his prayers to his saviour yet. He used to do it every single day, but he wasn't as regimented anymore. He didn't know whether the benighted prince was even still alive to hear them, which saddened him deeply. But, in the absence of information, his prayers had turned toward the wellbeing of their intended recipient. He'd never asked for anything for himself. Before Talon's disappearance he might have inserted the odd hope for Torin or Sivan's sake, but since he'd been gone he was always praying for the salvation of his saviour. After all, prayers should give strength to gods, shouldn't they?
Being in Kalzasi, homeland of Talon, he hoped one of his errant benedictions might somehow pass whatever barrier lay between himself and the demigod. He shut his eyes.
"Dear Talon Shinsei, I hope that You are well and, you know, still existent. I am really sorry that Industry ruined Your special day. Industry is a cruel god who has, you know, also not been nice to me, so I, uhh... emphasise with you?" He wasn't certain he'd said that right, but he just shrugged. He wasn't sure if Talon could even hear him. If he could, he could always ask for clarity if he wanted.
"Anyway, I am in Kalzasi where you are, I think, missed the most. But sometimes I am also in South Ecith. I have an Amulet of Wandering, so I can dwell both continents, which is nice. I like my friends here, but the jungles feel more of home to me. I would like, again, to thank you for saving my life. It has taken a while, but I am starting to feel that, maybe, there is meaning again to existing, even in the absence of, you know, my clan. Um. Amen." He shrugged and opened his eyes, sighing as he leaned forward to pat down on the mound of soil that housed his special seed.
