Monday, June 7, 2021

Duendewood vs. Solari: The Many Ways of Worship

"So," said Ruin, "You're telling me that... Grandfather... asks for sex as a sacrament." He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with someone who looked like a young human girl, but there was nobody else in Midgard he could have it with.

Eva shook her head. "Not exactly. Understand that we don't worship him the way you do--" 

Ruin nodded fervently. Eva and her sister Rita were dragons, descended -- it seemed -- from Amun Himself.

"--but as I understand it, what you and Aesa did in the chapel wasn't anything like his regular worship. It's accepted as sort of special offering, like a sacrifice. A very old way of making an offering." 

"Ah," said Ruin. "That... makes more sense." 

Eva smiled at him. "You needn't worry, you know. He's pleased with you." 

Ruin's eyes widened. "You're saying He... knows who I am?" 

"He knows who everybody is, silly." Eva grinned as if Ruin had been making a joke. "You just have a little more of his attention than most." She tilted her head and looked off into the distance, considering that. "Not as much as Aesa, though. But then, you're not a priest." 

"...And Corellon?" 

Eva shrugged. "We're not close family. He doesn't talk to me. But it did kind of sound like he was paying attention to you. And he does have a sense of humor."

"Well," said Ruin, and then stopped to consider whether this made any difference at all before concluding that as far as he was concerned, it couldn't. "As long as they aren't angry with me, I suppose." 

"Oh, no!" said Eva. "They're very pleased." 

"Wait," said Ruin. "How pleased?"

Eva shrugged. "Very." She smiled, looking perfectly innocent and not at all ominous; she seemed genuinely happy that her grandfather liked her traveling companions.

Ruin nodded slowly and then very deliberately turned his mind to something besides the gods.  His blade, for instance. Geddy's singing, maybe. Azrael, and his half-mumbled attempts to compose poetry. The way Martini managed to seem absolutely focused on the knife in her hand as she ran her thumb down the edge of the blade. The gentle swaying of the wagon as they moved down the road towards Renfall. 

Anything, really.

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