Prayer - Zanril, Varrick

”The Gods aren’t likely to listen to a bunch of desperate deep-dwellers,” Varrick sighed at the obsession to the idea of getting divine intervention. “Last we asked for it, a god obsessed with power and little care for us answered.” It felt a bit personal, given it was his heritage past, but Varrick had never been too interested in prayer. “We should seek tangible help instead. Someone with influence to make some difference. Like that peculiar Vayron accompanying the surface folk when they first arrived.” Varrick thought out loud, long claws scratching his cheek. 

——

“I’m not one to suggest praying either, but clearly they both listened at least once before.” Zanril countered as she looked over a tome to glean some kind of insight on the deities that may or may not be inclined to help. “Obviously, we’re not reaching out to Oris again. The proof of his help is right in front of us. Who’s to say it wouldn’t be worse a second time?”

Yeah, no. Some other haedians were praying to Oris, and she thought it was the dumbest thing they could’ve chosen to do. But… the Elder was proof of the flip side. That not all salvation needed to come at a detrimental cost.

“I think it wouldn’t hurt to speak to that Vayron, but at least trying to garner Empyria’s attention would be worth a shot. The worst that’ll happen with her is… well, nothing I guess. I’m not one to shy from gambling, but I don’t know if diving gambling is something I want to check off my bucket list.”

___

Varrick hummed out loud at Zanril’s suggestion. To bow his head to a God in a time of need was never a part of Varrick’s list of solutions, but she held a point nonetheless. Empyria had been merciful in the past and saved half of the Tyrians that remained on the surface. Now everyone was desperate for an easy way to salvation with another divine intervention. He didn’t want to pray, he figured that feeling alone would make his efforts null. But the flipping of pages made him eye the tome Zanril was looking over. The worst that could happen really could be just nothing. Could be. Or maybe Empyria would scorn the Haedians for being greedy. Who was he to say on the emotions of the Gods. 

“Mm… If you wish to attempt a prayer, perhaps…” Varrick looked at the crystals around. For all his life, he’d never thought much of it, but now, it felt almost like the Matriarch was everywhere, watching, listening. It unnerved him to a degree. “A single prayer, to add to the masses. Perhaps she is indeed as merciful as she was all those years ago.” Walking up to his daughter, eye looked over the tome. “Does this say anything to guide a favourable prayer? Offerings, or locale?” 

Being as nurturing as Empyria is said to be, Varrick would assume some fruits and berries or some manner of harvest would appease the God the best. Would she ignore the depths of the Below and prefer to see what sits in the sun, or would she crane her neck far enough down to hear them down here? With some convincing from the masses the Empyrean God can’t turn a blind eye to those in need forever.

—

“A single coin is enough to tip the scales.” Zanril said simply, eyes never leaving the tome she was reading. As imbalanced and generally… her as she may be, the haedian was an adept reader. She needed to be intelligent to be good at what she does, and her father saw to that. As such, she could read and keep up with the conversation with minimal difficulty.

“Well, she wants the opposite of what Oris prefers.” Zanril started, tapping a claw against the parchment lightly as she angled the tome towards her father so her could see the page she was reading. “Where he wants things of high cost, both material and life… she wants things of bounty and life. Things of harvest. Nothing of violence.”

There was a place that had exactly the things they’d need. Zanril’s expression twisted as she thought to it, fangs bared in the candle light as the mere idea soured the taste in her mouth.

“The Druids would have the best of what we need, but I’d rather scrape cave moss off a rock. It’d be more genuine from us that way, at least. Unless you have a better suggestion? We wouldn’t be able to go there anyways, what with our banishment.”
___

“You grow wiser every day, my dear,” Varrick smiled at Zanril’s adage. “The Druids would have the most bountiful offerings to spare for the cause. And with their attention so divided with the Matriarch… Perhaps theft is in poor taste given our intention, but the outskirts of the territory are bound to have fruit and other tokens of bounty to spare.” He mused aloud, fingers resting on his chin in thought. If they were careful, they could make their offering worthwhile and spare their hides the scolding.