She smiles back at him. It is a small smile and a thin one--but a smile nonetheless. "I am glad you like it, Drizzt Do'Urden. I understand you have come to ask questions of me. Ask and I shall answer."
"I do." A breath, his smile falling as the matter at hand comes back to the forefront.
"People do not wish to believe in the Arcana--any Arcana," Drizzt states, getting to the point of the matter. "And whenever they hear of any amount of hope in my heart, they do their best to shred it. Even my father only sees a dark future for the Travelers."
He breathes again. "Is there any hope for us at the end of this Game? And why must it be played?"
Astræa is quiet for a moment. "Hope was damaged when we lost Hoshiko, but so long as the chance for her remaking exists, so does the chance of hope. That your father despairs does not surprise me. I understand his bride fell out of ambit--or so my sister PSYCHE has complained. I also understand that the other side of her idiom has been shown to you all. That face is hers, but it is not the only one she possesses. I told you, before, that I am Justice and Injustice alike. I am large, as the human poet once said, I contain multitudes. So does PSYCHE. So do we all.
"If, however, if you are asking if good outcomes for you Travelers are possible at this point, then yes. They are. And not only through my own victory. I cannot speak for the plans of my siblings, but viewed with a logical mind, I can see that the archetypes of some would necessarily lead to positive outcomes should they win. For instance, I cannot see how Sol's victory would lead to an unhappy ending.
"As for why it must be played... there are various factors that might spark us into play once more. One of the more common ones--and indeed the cause of this round--is the death of one of our number, for the World must be gained in order to regain those we have lost. My favorite sibling Sinregado perished by way of an Elder God. Their loss prompted us to began play once more. The loss of Fortuna, Cephas, and Hoshiko only increased the necessity of Synodiporia."
Much of it is beyond the understanding of a mortal. There's complexities in Astræa's existence that Drizzt cannot hope to understand. Such is the meaning of being a concept and goddess intertwined. The divine beings of Synodiporia are not truly omnipotent--they are not only bound by their concepts in mind but in body and power. And like the divinity of his world--they can be killed. Still, to experience the world as Astræa does would rend his mind asunder, leaving nothing, breaking him from the sheer amount of memories, much less having to experience the worst Injustices.
"My deepest of sympathies. It is not easy to lose a sibling, let alone several people close to you."
Drizzt understands enough, however, to have much of his worries soothed, and much of the tenseness in his muscles melts away as he speaks. Astræa would not lie to him. She is not evil--she just is. She is a richness beyond that a normal divine being could ever be, for even they often represent good or evil. Yet she is also trapped by her concept, unable to go beyond it. A paradox.
"Synodiporia exists because it must for the sake of your existence and for the World," Drizzt reasons. "And Travelers are with Synodiporia because they must be, as your intermediaries. The game is played because it must be played."
Drizzt smiles humorlessly. "My fellow Travelers fail to understand the differences between the Arcana and mortals. You are bound to rules and an existence that we can scarcely comprehend. It is not uncommon in my world for mortals to blame the gods instead of doing what they can to better the world themselves. We are simply lucky in that many Travelers do less of the latter even if they do more of the former with our 'gods' in Synodiporia made far more real than gods that are distance and whose influence can only be sometimes felt."
"You Travelers are strange to us," she says, "even though we have played host to you for many rounds of Synodiporia. You are both more and less limited than we. You have strange expectations for how things must work, many of which run counter to our own understandings. It is why we watch the infant Rose so closely, for she is more like us than any other of the Travelers."
Another small smile for him. "Thank you for your sympathies, Drizzt Do'Urden. They are much appreciated."
Drizzt finds the tidbit about Rose interesting. "Are you certain it is not simply a love for children?" But then, more seriously. "How is she more like you than the rest of us? I am afraid I do not understand."
"Her understanding of the world is closer to our own," Justice explains. "She has grown up in liminal space, so she believes that gravity is optional. Mental communication comes easier to her than verbal."
He tilts his head at that, growing curious. "Two traits that are quite small yet with vast differences. But it is more that she is not hampered by the understanding of how 'the world works', is it is not? She sees possibilities that our minds are closed to simply because such powers have not always been granted to us."
"More than fascinates, I would imagine," a slow smile grows across Drizzt's face. "She is hard not to like."
Truly, the conversation needn't continue--Drizzt has his answers--but he knows that conversing with him will also help Astraea. How else can you better understand mortal creatures than to interact directly with them?
Drizzt considers that for a moment, then smiles a bit in amusement to himself. "That it is not entirely awful to be a youth, perhaps. And what it means to be a son. Also, I have learned more about so many worlds. The books from each have kept my imagination very busy!"
"Then you have chosen wisely in marking me," Drizzt could not be more happy about his Arcana at the moment, okay, unable to help himself from beaming now.
Drizzt's eyes widen slightly at the tender affection, and he feels his heart warm--and then suddenly, he is back in Liminal Space. He stands there, mind whirling with what just happened, and he takes a moment to simply what happened in. Only a moment, because Guenhwyvar almost knocks him over upon seeing he's returned, moving to rub roughly against him.
"Guenhwyvar," Drizzt laughs lightly, patting her side roughly. "I am fine; I was simply away for a visit. And there is much that I must tell you about it...."
Once Drizzt has Guenhwyvar convinced that he is indeed fine, he leads her off to someplace secluded so that she can hear his thoughts--and, as always, she listens quietly.
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"People do not wish to believe in the Arcana--any Arcana," Drizzt states, getting to the point of the matter. "And whenever they hear of any amount of hope in my heart, they do their best to shred it. Even my father only sees a dark future for the Travelers."
He breathes again. "Is there any hope for us at the end of this Game? And why must it be played?"
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"If, however, if you are asking if good outcomes for you Travelers are possible at this point, then yes. They are. And not only through my own victory. I cannot speak for the plans of my siblings, but viewed with a logical mind, I can see that the archetypes of some would necessarily lead to positive outcomes should they win. For instance, I cannot see how Sol's victory would lead to an unhappy ending.
"As for why it must be played... there are various factors that might spark us into play once more. One of the more common ones--and indeed the cause of this round--is the death of one of our number, for the World must be gained in order to regain those we have lost. My favorite sibling Sinregado perished by way of an Elder God. Their loss prompted us to began play once more. The loss of Fortuna, Cephas, and Hoshiko only increased the necessity of Synodiporia."
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"My deepest of sympathies. It is not easy to lose a sibling, let alone several people close to you."
Drizzt understands enough, however, to have much of his worries soothed, and much of the tenseness in his muscles melts away as he speaks. Astræa would not lie to him. She is not evil--she just is. She is a richness beyond that a normal divine being could ever be, for even they often represent good or evil. Yet she is also trapped by her concept, unable to go beyond it. A paradox.
"Synodiporia exists because it must for the sake of your existence and for the World," Drizzt reasons. "And Travelers are with Synodiporia because they must be, as your intermediaries. The game is played because it must be played."
Drizzt smiles humorlessly. "My fellow Travelers fail to understand the differences between the Arcana and mortals. You are bound to rules and an existence that we can scarcely comprehend. It is not uncommon in my world for mortals to blame the gods instead of doing what they can to better the world themselves. We are simply lucky in that many Travelers do less of the latter even if they do more of the former with our 'gods' in Synodiporia made far more real than gods that are distance and whose influence can only be sometimes felt."
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Another small smile for him. "Thank you for your sympathies, Drizzt Do'Urden. They are much appreciated."
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Drizzt finds the tidbit about Rose interesting. "Are you certain it is not simply a love for children?" But then, more seriously. "How is she more like you than the rest of us? I am afraid I do not understand."
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Truly, the conversation needn't continue--Drizzt has his answers--but he knows that conversing with him will also help Astraea. How else can you better understand mortal creatures than to interact directly with them?
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And with that, Drizzt is conveyed back to liminal space.
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"Guenhwyvar," Drizzt laughs lightly, patting her side roughly. "I am fine; I was simply away for a visit. And there is much that I must tell you about it...."
Once Drizzt has Guenhwyvar convinced that he is indeed fine, he leads her off to someplace secluded so that she can hear his thoughts--and, as always, she listens quietly.