A hint of solace

It took Alexis a while to find back to herself. She had to just sit there for a while, breathing in and breathing out.

She wasn‘t sure what she had expected. Maybe she had just waited for silence. Another prayer unheard. Another confirmation that the gods didn’t really care.

Well, that was not what she had gotten, even though she could not describe what it was that she had experienced. Such a kaleidoscope of visions and impressions, way too much for her to grasp, to handle.
She got an answer, even if she could not fully comprehend it. That was more than the Pillars had ever given her.

And that meant something to her. Fractured as those visions had been, they might not really help with the task for now, but…
No. No, that wasn’t true. She might not have gotten the answers she had wanted. She might still not really know what the Brotherhood was planning, so she had some chance to do more than just react. She might still not know who Fosia had chosen to be the definite wielder she was tasked to deliver the hammer to.
But those vision had touched upon what had been driving those questions.

For a while now Alexis had not been able to see anything but death, destruction and futility in her future. The hurdles insurmountable, the tasks impossible to achieve. Outnumbered. Outclassed. Insignificant.
She had wanted to know who was supposed to receive to hammer so she might leave the hammer head with them. So it would be safe when she had died whatever meaningless death this war held in store for her. Maybe she’d get to be shot down by Islana the prophetess in persona, as that shrink head had graciously foretold. Didn’t seem so implausible anymore, and did hold some poetry. But most likely she would just fall to some random blade or magik spell, and that would be that. Nothing achieved, nothing resolved.

In all honesty, she’d been going mostly on sheer stubbornness. It was not in her nature to just lay down and await her death. No, if she was to meet her end, she wanted to go down fighting. But she had given up on believing she would make any kind of difference. That she could achieve any of the tasks she was burdened with.

But those visions had shown at least one task fulfilled, for better or for worse. One loose end tied up. One thing seen through to the end.

Now Fosia to her knowledge wasn’t exactly tied to foresight. Fortune telling didn’t seem to be quiet his domain. But even if it had been only some obscure form of encouragement - she had needed it. Some little splinter of hope that she might just be able to do it, even though it seemed impossible.
She had needed it. More than she knew.

Alexis raised a hand to her face and rubbed her palm across her eyes, taking away the moisture of unshed tears.

She gazed up to the peaks of Fang in the distance, hands resting on Fosia’s artefact.

“Thank you.”
Barely a whisper, but genuine none the less.

She wrapped the hammer head up again and stowed it away before rising to her feet. So much to think about. Islana, drowning? Dismantled by all that came before her? Was that just Fosia’s perception, or was it true? What was that jewel? The man with the white eyes. When would that confrontation in the woods of Ostiarium occur and what would be the stakes?

And while she found her way back to her friends, pondering all those questions and more, there was some long lost determination slowly, but surly returning to her step.