It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw, long before I could even begin to imagine a world other than the one I knew.
[ He'd grown up in the dark, in the gloom. Among murderous, conniving families that waged war against one another — and even amongst themselves; it had been a world that had beaten his father down into a helpless dreamer, who wanted something else but was never destined to escape. Not in the way that his son had. He'd never known the sun could have been so beautiful, not as it had been described as a burning, cruel thing that tormented the surface world while the drow, the wise and powerful drow, had benefited from their goddess's protection.
Nothing about it had allowed him to come close to imagining the splendor of the world, until he'd seen it with his own eyes. Perhaps poetry was the closest thing he had, to articulate the immensity of his emotions. He's left one world behind, and it hurt him every day to remember it, to wish more for it but know he could not help it. Now, he has chosen Zenith and taken his hard lessons to heart. To move forward as a warrior should, and to be kind no matter whom he faced down. ]
Oh.
[ She is so invitingly sweet, talking about her México and its native warmth, the way her power manifested part of it in the world ( how powerful, even in her diminished state! part of him aches to drive his blades against her, to challenge himself to survive this woman — ) and the way she describes herself as a god of the sun. No wonder she is Meridian, she is perfect for them. ]
I love the light. [ Simple, and honest. The soft, starlight glow of his pale Shard upon his brow pulses with the affection in his voice. ] I first saw the moon, when I came to the surface. The moon and all the stars in a sky so vast and unending I thought I might fall into it if I did not hold onto the ground below my feet. The second time I left my homeland... I went to the sun. So, thank you — even if it wasn't you, specifically. Thank you for greeting me, then.
[ He can't thank the god of his actual sun ( they're gone now, after all ), but he can convey that gratitude to her. A gently respectful, although not intensely pious, man who continues his steady trek up her temple to the top with silent determination. ]
I am a Zenite, and thus Highstorm is my home now. Yet, I do think it could use a little more sunlight in the way that the people of Springstar could use a good night to rest in, honestly. Having a surplus of either is... a bit harsh. It must be difficult for people to keep their hearts steady, when they don't have everything they need.
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[ He'd grown up in the dark, in the gloom. Among murderous, conniving families that waged war against one another — and even amongst themselves; it had been a world that had beaten his father down into a helpless dreamer, who wanted something else but was never destined to escape. Not in the way that his son had. He'd never known the sun could have been so beautiful, not as it had been described as a burning, cruel thing that tormented the surface world while the drow, the wise and powerful drow, had benefited from their goddess's protection.
Nothing about it had allowed him to come close to imagining the splendor of the world, until he'd seen it with his own eyes. Perhaps poetry was the closest thing he had, to articulate the immensity of his emotions. He's left one world behind, and it hurt him every day to remember it, to wish more for it but know he could not help it. Now, he has chosen Zenith and taken his hard lessons to heart. To move forward as a warrior should, and to be kind no matter whom he faced down. ]
Oh.
[ She is so invitingly sweet, talking about her México and its native warmth, the way her power manifested part of it in the world ( how powerful, even in her diminished state! part of him aches to drive his blades against her, to challenge himself to survive this woman — ) and the way she describes herself as a god of the sun. No wonder she is Meridian, she is perfect for them. ]
I love the light. [ Simple, and honest. The soft, starlight glow of his pale Shard upon his brow pulses with the affection in his voice. ] I first saw the moon, when I came to the surface. The moon and all the stars in a sky so vast and unending I thought I might fall into it if I did not hold onto the ground below my feet. The second time I left my homeland... I went to the sun. So, thank you — even if it wasn't you, specifically. Thank you for greeting me, then.
[ He can't thank the god of his actual sun ( they're gone now, after all ), but he can convey that gratitude to her. A gently respectful, although not intensely pious, man who continues his steady trek up her temple to the top with silent determination. ]
I am a Zenite, and thus Highstorm is my home now. Yet, I do think it could use a little more sunlight in the way that the people of Springstar could use a good night to rest in, honestly. Having a surplus of either is... a bit harsh. It must be difficult for people to keep their hearts steady, when they don't have everything they need.