[ His story weaves an image as epic as myths, except she takes his as true— if albeit artistically put. There is more to this story, as he is collapsing ages and the destruction and reformation of worlds into mere sentences. The lives that were lost, the lives that were gained since then... she wonders about them all, of their future.
How can she know of the magnificence of the god born from his and his people’s wishes by mere story? She can’t, but she realizes she wishes she could to feel that sort of power it held. No matter what destruction came of the gods, that they had been born of others is... wonderful, she thinks. (Fleetingly, she wonders what power penned the fundamental laws of a world like that.) She feels for him, in his loss and sacrifice for his role in this tale, she understands the destruction that has happened; she weeps for who have fallen, who he was unable to restore. Yet he continues to live and tell this story for those, ignorant like her, to hear, to listen, to honor.
She's exceptionally grateful for it, and that grace dances in her eyes. ]
Your heart...
[ And the god that had been born from it. ]
One day, I wish to see Him. [ Not that... she's entirely sure it would be possible in this world. But there, she said it. As if to emphasize her point, she lifts a hand to bring it up between them, placing her fingers upon the slight left side of his chest. ] And know Him.
[ She smiles. ] Because that would be like knowing you, yes?
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How can she know of the magnificence of the god born from his and his people’s wishes by mere story? She can’t, but she realizes she wishes she could to feel that sort of power it held. No matter what destruction came of the gods, that they had been born of others is... wonderful, she thinks. (Fleetingly, she wonders what power penned the fundamental laws of a world like that.) She feels for him, in his loss and sacrifice for his role in this tale, she understands the destruction that has happened; she weeps for who have fallen, who he was unable to restore. Yet he continues to live and tell this story for those, ignorant like her, to hear, to listen, to honor.
She's exceptionally grateful for it, and that grace dances in her eyes. ]
Your heart...
[ And the god that had been born from it. ]
One day, I wish to see Him. [ Not that... she's entirely sure it would be possible in this world. But there, she said it. As if to emphasize her point, she lifts a hand to bring it up between them, placing her fingers upon the slight left side of his chest. ] And know Him.
[ She smiles. ] Because that would be like knowing you, yes?