a week prior, she had believed that rapture had arrived. with her very eyes did she witness the second calamity; of the gods and humans, of power and war. she had seen it all, and having survived it, she knows that she is cursed. for she is a mother without child, and a priestess without a god.

she had no reason to pray. the gods had forgotten her as they are wont to do. and she could not blame them, for she is nobody.

but in the very least, nobody has a home.

sootopolis. a holy place marred by war and wrath. and yet, despite what it had endured, it was still alive. sootopolis was where she was born, and sootopolis would be the place she would die. she would always have returned no matter the circumstance. and now the time has come to rebuild the place she had been born; the origin of all creation. EDEN.

where there had been blood had been wiped away by her hands. where there had been bodies—abandoned and unidentified, had been buried according to the rites of her parish. and where there used to be torrents of rain and cracks of lightning, was now blue skies and the occasional shadow of a god. the presence of one that leads to another.

"welcome home, miss morningstar." she says. resting on the edges of a crater, sariel greets her with cautious reverence, having witnessed the girl's rebirth. in the draconid's hand was the control of one god, and the killing of another.

indeed. SHE had killed the god.

is SHE really a savior, or a savage?

what is SLEEP but a premature death?

draped on her shoulders is a simple cloak, reminiscent of her old covenant. there's a basket hanging from sariel's hand, and in the basket laid floral tea: dried buds and flower petals, harvested from the garden that had bloomed in her home—what little that had remained after the calamity.

"did you miss it?"

home...?

freya morningstar