MAEA
He settled in, and Maea turned until she could view him properly. Resting her chin against the top of the walking stick, she leaned on it and listened as he went off.
"I wasn't there," she reminded him gently, "and I only have broad strokes of what actually happened. If I generalize, who am on your side, of course others will too. Like they always do, with every major event. It's the same as what happened with Ronin and the Temple. They remember that he went crazy and tried to tear it down. How many will ever stop to recall that his child died that day? I bet that's not what you remember first. Or Amalia. Or even me, who helped to rebuild the place in the aftermath."
Pulling on a strand of hair, a piece of twig was picked out and dropped to the ground.
"I'm not saying that your intentions were wrong. To be honest, we've probably been spared a big headache by what happened. It's just that it can't happen again. Not with us as the aggressor. Because as soon as the general opinion is that we are violent, dangerous and unpredictable... that's it. They'll never forget it. Like the Mathair, like the plague, like the LongNight monsters. People's memories aren't fair, and it takes a lot of doing to shift opinions once they've been established."
She pointed at herself, as a prime example of someone with a very long memory. Nursing slights and past transgressions like it was some sacred duty. When he addressed the Voice's goals, her sigh was faint, accompanied by a nod.
"Alright. I'll accept that. It's not a bad thing, in general. Now let's look at it from the Old God's perspective." Playing the devil's advocate here was not fun, but it came easy to her. It was a line of thinking that had been entirely hers until Amun entered her life and began to stir the pot.
"Say you create a masterpiece of a pot. You sculpt it, paint it, burn and glaze, and it's exactly how you think it should be. You know where you want it to sit, and how it should be used. Then a random child comes into your shop. They pick up a spoon and start to carve into your beautiful creation. And when you ask what they're doing, they say 'I just want to make it better. Because what you did isn't to my liking'."
She cocked her head aside, gazing at her brother. "How would you react, to something like that?"
"I wasn't there," she reminded him gently, "and I only have broad strokes of what actually happened. If I generalize, who am on your side, of course others will too. Like they always do, with every major event. It's the same as what happened with Ronin and the Temple. They remember that he went crazy and tried to tear it down. How many will ever stop to recall that his child died that day? I bet that's not what you remember first. Or Amalia. Or even me, who helped to rebuild the place in the aftermath."
Pulling on a strand of hair, a piece of twig was picked out and dropped to the ground.
"I'm not saying that your intentions were wrong. To be honest, we've probably been spared a big headache by what happened. It's just that it can't happen again. Not with us as the aggressor. Because as soon as the general opinion is that we are violent, dangerous and unpredictable... that's it. They'll never forget it. Like the Mathair, like the plague, like the LongNight monsters. People's memories aren't fair, and it takes a lot of doing to shift opinions once they've been established."
She pointed at herself, as a prime example of someone with a very long memory. Nursing slights and past transgressions like it was some sacred duty. When he addressed the Voice's goals, her sigh was faint, accompanied by a nod.
"Alright. I'll accept that. It's not a bad thing, in general. Now let's look at it from the Old God's perspective." Playing the devil's advocate here was not fun, but it came easy to her. It was a line of thinking that had been entirely hers until Amun entered her life and began to stir the pot.
"Say you create a masterpiece of a pot. You sculpt it, paint it, burn and glaze, and it's exactly how you think it should be. You know where you want it to sit, and how it should be used. Then a random child comes into your shop. They pick up a spoon and start to carve into your beautiful creation. And when you ask what they're doing, they say 'I just want to make it better. Because what you did isn't to my liking'."
She cocked her head aside, gazing at her brother. "How would you react, to something like that?"
Light is easy to love
Show me your darkness
Show me your darkness
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
