SkieBorne
(?)Community Member
- Posted: Fri, 09 Dec 2011 18:59:13 +0000
Viira had spent most of the past several months keeping to herself and caring for Avalin while she struggled with the voice in her mind and the will that sometimes moved her limbs without her permission. The Voice, this Ashanti, had remained relatively controllable but there times when she wondered if she hadn't been possessed by a demon - what else could claim to be a god and demand the tribute worthy of such?
She was no slave and no priestess either. The Captain and her adoptive son were the last of their ship and their people for all she knew and they'd been through too much for her will to simply be snapped by a childish inner voice.
The return of the Sky had been something of note, the woman had grown too used to the never ending twilight and it had struck her as bizarre to wake blinking in sunlight. The Voice, however, had stirred immediately at that and had simmered beneath the surface ever since, pushing against her will, demanding to soak in the warm and be away from the cool of the shade. If nothing else, their mutual enjoyment of vast open places and heat was the reason she obeyed.
Used to closed quarters and confined spaces, Viira would often retire into small spaces just to shut the Voice up - oh how he loved to ramble about his own importance, the pompous, arrogant prat. Avalin had watched this all along and had learned to avoid his 'mother' when the sour expression that wasn't hers creased her brow. It wasn't a war, exactly, but rather two souls trying to inhabit the same body... and neither taking too kindly.
Perhaps that was why Viira was so strong after so long with her gem. She'd met Winter of course, and Famine, but she wasn't quite convinced of the existence of gods - only demons.
Her first trip to the Pantheon itself was this one, her foot steps made confident by the eagerness of the Voice, almost childish in his haste to go 'home'. There were others here, she was assured, and the sky's return meant events were afoot he would likely be interested in. Viira had fought him but her cuirosity had been the crack in her armor and she'd lost out, resigning herself to the trip. Such was their uneasy relationship.
The grass and trees and life didn't interest the Voice as they passed through the lush gardens but it awed Viira. The Pantheon grounds fairly pulsed with life, like an eden... she'd never seen such a thing before.
Look for someone. Ashanti demanded as they rounded a corner and entered a hall. He'd never been one for pleasantries, thank-you, please were foreign words to a creature that took obedience for granted.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Viira shot back with an irate toss of her hair. Her steps had slowed, grown more her own the further in they went - it seemed both Host and Gem were drinking in the sights as they searched.
She was no slave and no priestess either. The Captain and her adoptive son were the last of their ship and their people for all she knew and they'd been through too much for her will to simply be snapped by a childish inner voice.
The return of the Sky had been something of note, the woman had grown too used to the never ending twilight and it had struck her as bizarre to wake blinking in sunlight. The Voice, however, had stirred immediately at that and had simmered beneath the surface ever since, pushing against her will, demanding to soak in the warm and be away from the cool of the shade. If nothing else, their mutual enjoyment of vast open places and heat was the reason she obeyed.
Used to closed quarters and confined spaces, Viira would often retire into small spaces just to shut the Voice up - oh how he loved to ramble about his own importance, the pompous, arrogant prat. Avalin had watched this all along and had learned to avoid his 'mother' when the sour expression that wasn't hers creased her brow. It wasn't a war, exactly, but rather two souls trying to inhabit the same body... and neither taking too kindly.
Perhaps that was why Viira was so strong after so long with her gem. She'd met Winter of course, and Famine, but she wasn't quite convinced of the existence of gods - only demons.
Her first trip to the Pantheon itself was this one, her foot steps made confident by the eagerness of the Voice, almost childish in his haste to go 'home'. There were others here, she was assured, and the sky's return meant events were afoot he would likely be interested in. Viira had fought him but her cuirosity had been the crack in her armor and she'd lost out, resigning herself to the trip. Such was their uneasy relationship.
The grass and trees and life didn't interest the Voice as they passed through the lush gardens but it awed Viira. The Pantheon grounds fairly pulsed with life, like an eden... she'd never seen such a thing before.
Look for someone. Ashanti demanded as they rounded a corner and entered a hall. He'd never been one for pleasantries, thank-you, please were foreign words to a creature that took obedience for granted.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Viira shot back with an irate toss of her hair. Her steps had slowed, grown more her own the further in they went - it seemed both Host and Gem were drinking in the sights as they searched.
