It certainly was strange to feel the sudden disconnect between herself and Cosmos, Cecil thought while wandering her new surroundings. Indeed, she had no deep attachment to the goddess of harmony that she could remember actually cultivating herself over years, yet one was undeniably there; though the knight knew she'd only known Cosmos for a little while, it felt like she had known her for ages, all her lifetime even. Being away from her mistress left her disoriented, dizzy, almost sick to her stomach, and the sight of seeing civilization that was thriving and bustling with activity, so different from the dead worlds of where the Conflict had been, gave her little comfort.
The friends she had made in that strange place were gone. The other warriors who were sworn to Cosmos... what would they think of her absence? Would they worry? Would they think she'd defected? Chaos's soldiers did like to provoke her in that cruel way from time to time, as if they were well aware of the darkness in her soul, and some of her own allies had overheard their enemies' rather telling taunts. She didn't like to think that they were perhaps questioning her loyalty too, but... at least if they weren't here with her, it probably meant they were still fighting for Cosmos.
That was somewhat reassuring— enough anyway to make her legs remember how to work.
Cecil was watching the crowd in an attempt to discern the natives from the others who had arrived on the ship with her, when something reached her ears that made her blue eyes go wide: a voice. She strained her neck, turning turned her head this way and that, the beads in her hair clicking softly together with the movement, Cecil looking desperately for the speaker.
"Firion?" she called out when she thought she saw a familiar figure in the distance, then louder and with more confidence when the crowd parted and she could see him better, "Firion!"
no subject
The friends she had made in that strange place were gone. The other warriors who were sworn to Cosmos... what would they think of her absence? Would they worry? Would they think she'd defected? Chaos's soldiers did like to provoke her in that cruel way from time to time, as if they were well aware of the darkness in her soul, and some of her own allies had overheard their enemies' rather telling taunts. She didn't like to think that they were perhaps questioning her loyalty too, but... at least if they weren't here with her, it probably meant they were still fighting for Cosmos.
That was somewhat reassuring— enough anyway to make her legs remember how to work.
Cecil was watching the crowd in an attempt to discern the natives from the others who had arrived on the ship with her, when something reached her ears that made her blue eyes go wide: a voice. She strained her neck, turning turned her head this way and that, the beads in her hair clicking softly together with the movement, Cecil looking desperately for the speaker.
"Firion?" she called out when she thought she saw a familiar figure in the distance, then louder and with more confidence when the crowd parted and she could see him better, "Firion!"