[ It is not that he thinks Quetzalcoatl as incapable of such a thing, but in his finite experience with fellow gods ( and all of them, denizens of the Levant and neighboring countries ), he can only believe that she, like his own family, will seek to subjugate. To control. To levy blame upon him, with his temper and his secretiveness; to misunderstand his loyalty, and the fact that though he has pledged to Meridian, his priority will forever be Egypt. No matter what, he would always do what it took, for the land that he existed as.
Consorting with Zenith was, arguably, one of the most innocuous of acts.
She claims she is here to scold him a little, something about being nice to the mortals — and he cannot believe it, not even as the weight of her warmth envelops his overheated, burnt Soul. Not even as he thinks of spreading himself thin across the whole of the desert, each grain of him basking in Ra's fathomless light. His family would have scolded him, once. Now, he knows them to only blame. A foreign goddess with no love for him could not scold like a sibling.
Quetzalcoatl's sincerity, her divinity, is unquestionable. That is what slows him. He doesn't know what to make about her apology, and it is there, in the faint shock, the estranged parts of him that have never been told 'I am sorry', because blame is easier to lay upon a war god than forgiveness. He can handle blame, it is his due. Her apology is — it is strange, and he feels it is misplaced. It isn't as if she would be wrong, if she came to stop him on Meridian's behalf. He'd just be hurt, that even a fellow divinity would not understand. ]
I do not know anything about you. Save for that you are divine, and that you have a connection to the sun itself. But, make no mistake — I seek to bring back my home. All things end, and will be reborn, but there is a wrongfulness about this destruction. Do you think one of these mortals will be able to do a proper job of it? They are born of sorrow.
no subject
[ It is not that he thinks Quetzalcoatl as incapable of such a thing, but in his finite experience with fellow gods ( and all of them, denizens of the Levant and neighboring countries ), he can only believe that she, like his own family, will seek to subjugate. To control. To levy blame upon him, with his temper and his secretiveness; to misunderstand his loyalty, and the fact that though he has pledged to Meridian, his priority will forever be Egypt. No matter what, he would always do what it took, for the land that he existed as.
Consorting with Zenith was, arguably, one of the most innocuous of acts.
She claims she is here to scold him a little, something about being nice to the mortals — and he cannot believe it, not even as the weight of her warmth envelops his overheated, burnt Soul. Not even as he thinks of spreading himself thin across the whole of the desert, each grain of him basking in Ra's fathomless light. His family would have scolded him, once. Now, he knows them to only blame. A foreign goddess with no love for him could not scold like a sibling.
Quetzalcoatl's sincerity, her divinity, is unquestionable. That is what slows him. He doesn't know what to make about her apology, and it is there, in the faint shock, the estranged parts of him that have never been told 'I am sorry', because blame is easier to lay upon a war god than forgiveness. He can handle blame, it is his due. Her apology is — it is strange, and he feels it is misplaced. It isn't as if she would be wrong, if she came to stop him on Meridian's behalf. He'd just be hurt, that even a fellow divinity would not understand. ]
I do not know anything about you. Save for that you are divine, and that you have a connection to the sun itself. But, make no mistake — I seek to bring back my home. All things end, and will be reborn, but there is a wrongfulness about this destruction. Do you think one of these mortals will be able to do a proper job of it? They are born of sorrow.