chaele
worship like a dog
Perhaps Maea’s mood was another excuse to make this little journey, quiet as she is. Chaele did not need to know the reason; they had learned plenty about the loreseeker when they last met, and are hardly one to pry. If there is anything to best treat a distracted mind, it is a more worthy distraction.
“No squirrels,” they repeat idly, lifting their torch and their gaze up toward the overhanging trees in search of such a creature. The flickering firelight casts eerie shadows from bare branches. If only the hedges weren’t evergreen. “Just as well. Maybe they will reveal themselves enough to become dinner.”
Chaele pauses to consider a fork then, lowering the light to get a better look at the stars. There is only one constellation they know, but it should be enough to orient them both amid the close, changing corridors. The search is for the center, whatever that means. “Are there any books about this place? Any knowledge to impart?”
“No squirrels,” they repeat idly, lifting their torch and their gaze up toward the overhanging trees in search of such a creature. The flickering firelight casts eerie shadows from bare branches. If only the hedges weren’t evergreen. “Just as well. Maybe they will reveal themselves enough to become dinner.”
Chaele pauses to consider a fork then, lowering the light to get a better look at the stars. There is only one constellation they know, but it should be enough to orient them both amid the close, changing corridors. The search is for the center, whatever that means. “Are there any books about this place? Any knowledge to impart?”
at the shrine of my lies
