Safrin
Seren's tears do not stain Safrin's gown. Instead, they turn to pearls of starlight that weightlessly fall before disappearing with puffs of petrichor and lilac. "In the end, you will never be able to save anyone my sweet girl." The goddess explains. "Everyone will die. You can only prolong the inevitable, and even then, such is not for the likes of you to decide when a life should be spared." Vi, Safrin, and now Seren, all stood at the beginning of life. Heralding and breathing it into being. What happened next they could only ever influence.
"The abandoned are what they are. Born with souls already tinged with madness and darkness. Sometimes there are those who can be made light again, but for the majority, there is simply nothing that can be done." Only certain souls could be split and endure the duality of being hybrids. Most, could crumble beneath the effort it took to maintain such a delicate balance.
"The abandoned are what they are. Born with souls already tinged with madness and darkness. Sometimes there are those who can be made light again, but for the majority, there is simply nothing that can be done." Only certain souls could be split and endure the duality of being hybrids. Most, could crumble beneath the effort it took to maintain such a delicate balance.
