The Broken Truth

With the threat of Fenrir taking a backseat, Mimir felt a tinge of familiarity walking into the city.
To see those that dwelled within brought a far more powerful feeling.
He took several steps towards one, not sure if he had ever known them, but for sure remembered the splendor that once emanated from these grounds. Unable to even voice a cry, silent tears streamed down his face.
Dyvia noticed a change in Eriks demeanor as well. While not as lost in his thoughts as the old man was, she noted him pausing for a moment longer than the others.
“Must not be easy, seeing everything you’ve known twisted like this or gone. Do you want to hang back? Give him some time to grieve?”

Erik lowered his head to force his gaze away. While his sympathy was with Mimir, he wasn’t the source of his current gloom.
“No. We need to move, though that wasn’t what bothered me.”
He gave her a glance that said enough. A story for another time.
In truth, he felt sad for these beings. As broken as he had been once, never had he suffered an existence like this.

Theo had stopped next to Balar, unable to identify the feeling he felt. Next to the Dagda, he could only feel warmth, awe, and wonder. Looking upon these misshapen beings of legend..... it was quite depressing.
For once, he couldn’t think of what to say. The stories he had been told, the hopeful tales of the gods repairing their realm, here he had the answer and the truth was too bitter to digest.

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