» choose your path

RIXEN i have late night conversations with the moon; A few horses had already begun to assemble before Hope by the time I arrived. I’d seen them around the Rift before, although I wasn’t too familiar with them. I simply offered a polite nod to whoever managed to catch my eye, before taking my place in front of the deer goddess, waiting to hear what she had to say with both ears pricked forward attentively. Hope began to speak of the gods, explaining that reviving them would help to heal the Rift once and for all. She went on about what we needed to do: choose a god to represent, and carry out their will. My lips pursed thoughtfully, gaze continuing to watch the large deer as she looked on to the crowd, probably wondering how we would receive all of this. Then, she began to describe each of the gods, to give us some way to distinguish them from one another. I listened with great interest. I wanted nothing more than to repair the Rift once and for all; it was my home, and I was more than willing to do anything to help heal it. I trusted Hope’s words, for I had never been given any reason not to, and found myself fizzing with eager for her to tell us more. Though each god seemed to have advantageous qualities about them, I preferred the sound of the tigress Vjanta, a symbol of strength. To me, strength was not only a physical characteristic, but instead came in many shapes and sizes. It was something moral. Intellectual. Spiritual. It was not easily defined, and therein lay its beauty. There was a time and place to be philosophical - it was not now. Hope’s descriptions, brief as they were, would have to be enough information to make an immediate decision. We were all the same, standing before the deity. None of us knew much about the gods, as they had been gone for a long time. Each and every one of us would have to choose between them, whether or not we had an ideal amount of information from which to base a decision. But the perception that everyone around me placed as much trust in the deer as I did was quickly proven to be false. Hostility hung heavy in the air. Virga looked angry. He was seething with rage, which boiled deep in the stallion’s system, as hot as lava. He was a volcano waiting to explode. And explode he did, in a fit of rage. Virga was little more than a stranger to me, and his accusations were rather shocking. I could hardly believe my ears. The gods were murderers? How could it be? I watched as he lowered his head, as if he was preparing to charge at Hope and inflict a mortal wound, waiting to see if he would dare. Knowing I could not stand silently and look on, my voice rang out: "Is this true?" I questioned softly, glancing from Virga to Hope and back again. I didn’t know what I expected to hear. But one thing was for certain - I would need to know more before agreeing to help. "Talk." he tells me about the sun — and I tell him about you.

img