[Serph lets out a long breath, a sigh not unlike Jayce's own. Yes, she is. A girl with black hair -- unheard of, in a sea of people with hair in every colour under the cloudy sky -- who didn't know how to fight and spoke of things they had never seen or heard of. His conversations with her made him feel... like there was more to living than fighting.
But the mysteries that lay with her... he wishes he had been given time to talk when they reunited so briefly. To try and understand what it was that happened five years ago, to try and unravel the tangled thread of their unremembered past. Unfortunately, that choice was not in his hands.]
We were told she is our creator.
[Something that would have upset the balance of their perception of her perhaps, if they had known. But somehow, he suspects that quality wouldn't have mattered to him. Doesn't matter to him.]
no subject
But the mysteries that lay with her... he wishes he had been given time to talk when they reunited so briefly. To try and understand what it was that happened five years ago, to try and unravel the tangled thread of their unremembered past. Unfortunately, that choice was not in his hands.]
We were told she is our creator.
[Something that would have upset the balance of their perception of her perhaps, if they had known. But somehow, he suspects that quality wouldn't have mattered to him. Doesn't matter to him.]
But to us, she is our comrade.