Morgan followed Veliuona into her encampment on the second night of the Goddess' visit. She shivered as her paladin strode nervously behind her... but it was not fear of either Veliouna or her countless thralls. It was discomfort at the strangest sense of familiarity she felt as she walked into this conclave of the dead.
The young paladin, of course, was far less comfortable. He was terrified of the undead abominations, fearful of what they would do, revolted by how they looked and acted. And at the same time, there was a bitterness in him, a jealousy of his beloved as she walked with her head high in the wake of the great and terrible creature striding ahead of them, who seemed to know no fear of the dead world around her or the things that lurked within it.
Veliuona took Morgan to her tent, then halted here: she invited the mare inside, but told the stallion to wait, or to leave. Morgan smiled, and tried to encourage him, reassuring him that the dead would not harm him and he could leave if he so desired.
The words had not even left her mouth when the stallion fled, to the laughter of Veliuona... and to the frustration of Morgan. Certainly, she did not hold his fear against him... but all the same, she had expected at least a goodbye, or for him to leave with as much boldness as he had first entered the camp... not that he had been very bold at all, she reflected.
Morgan turned towards Veliuona, and the goddess seemed to see her unhappiness on her face, as she mocked that her thralls knew no such fear. She bragged of their loyalty, and their superiority, but was cut short by Morgan's angry interjection that they were also soulless, mindless, worthless abominations.
But Veliuona was not angered: no, as a matter of fact, she was pleased. For while Morgan spoke the Sun Warrior's words, it was only parroting. In her eyes, and upon her heart, she saw written very different things. And likewise, Veliuona tasted something further, too: interest, however unwilling Morgan was to admit it. For were the undead not fascinating in their own way? Was not there something romantic in creatures who had not just died for you, but now continued to serve, to love, to fight in your name after the warriors of every other nation had long given in to the eternal slumber?
Veliuona smiled at Morgan, then asked her what she would prefer to learn: to banish the dead, or to summon them to her aid.
Morgan opened her mouth to answer... and yet couldn't form the words. She knew what Sol would want her to say, what Sol would want her to do... and yet, as Veliuona smiled at her, she also knew what she wanted to truly learn. What truly compelled her, and called to her.
And before she knew it, she had spoken her answer... and it was a lesson Veliuona would be all too happy to teach.
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