A wish for peace. A land of tarnished light.

[Now I imagine him carrying a big buster sword a la Cloud FF7]

THAT’S PRETTY MUCH THE IMAGE I HAD GOING FOR IT TBH?? Especially since he could use it to block other weapons and then just shove it to stagger whoever he’s fighting.

@hyliahergrace replied to your post “I remember making Lys have a broadsword when he fought in the war, but...”

Lorelle whispers: that's hot

How to impress demoness’ 101: be able to carry giant swords that probably match your height.

reginalucem replied to your post “I remember making Lys have a broadsword when he fought in the war, but...”

Consider tho... smacking Lorin upside the head with it when he's an idiot

“Sort of.”

“Thanks…I’m glad someone thinks so.” Lorin replied with a small hint of a smile. The words of support meant something to him, even if he was hesitant to show it. Had to be the drunken god who was uncaring about the world and what people thought of him. A lie. A good one. He felt like maybe Lys was just saying it to make him feel better, but the relic wasn’t really the type to sugar coat things. Regardless, the words felt nice. 

“…Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. I act too much like a mortal. Gods are suppose to be…well…divine. I don’t know. I don’t like being in the Sacred Realm. What’s the point in creating something if you’re not going to enjoy it as well? So many deities just like to keep away, to look from an arm’s length.” Lorin commented. He’d always been different, always had a deep connection with his world. Before the destruction, he’d frequently check the status on Lorule’s health. Made sure there was enough rich soil for farming, enough clean water to drink. To try to fix problems that arise from the world just turning on its own. Maybe that’s why it’d hurt so much when the people he loved to be near betrayed him”

"You do not need to thank me, you drunken fool."

If Lorin listened very, veeery closely after the playful retort, he might have heard the faintest of chuckles in the relic's direction. Thanks to the vast amount of cracks running along Lys' torso it made laughter yet another painful task, but the delicate sound was unmistakable, if not refreshing. 

Quieting down as pointed ears standing at attention, Lys listened carefully to everything that Lorin said. It was hard to find similarities between the two at times considering their personalities, but small conversations like this made Lys think of just how alike they could be. Lips gave the slightest twitch upwards, clearly amused at some thought or another - namely how neither of them enjoyed being in the Sacred Realm all the time. Glad to see the sentiment was mutual.

“You say that, and yet I fought in a war alongside them.” His voice trailed off for a moment, as did his gaze as it focused on the sky overhead. "... There is a garden I tended to in Lorule. And while the plants are slowly starting to grow once more... It is still my favorite place to go while outside the Sacred Realm."

“Gods have other things to do, if that’s what you mean. They have prayers to listen to and holy shmoly things like that. They have meetings with other gods about their worlds and other worlds. Even before everything went to shit, they never exactly liked me. It’s hard for people to appreciate you when you’re always considered second rate.” Lorin said, slumping over slightly. He had always been an outsider when it came to the major God community, trying his best to do and be what he was meant to. He just never was good enough. “Gods aren’t perfect beings, Lys, don’t let anyone try to fool you about that. They’re flawed, hierarchical, and petty. We exist outside of the dimensions of mortals, but we’re not much different from them. They’re created in our image after all.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Man it was taking a lot of will power to not drink that bottle. 

“... You are hardly second rate.”

For a moment, Lys’ voice had hardened almost defensively - and not because Lorin had created him. Sure he wasn’t the best God, but before Lorule became a practical wasteland, the relic was proud to stand by the other’s side. Because of that it was hard to imagine Lorin as “second rate”. 

Minding the cracks along his neck, Lys carefully turned his head in order to fully look at his creator: how he slouched and continued to cling onto the bottle of alcohol as if it had been someone’s hand. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise the relic if the Golden Goddesses had spent their time laughing at them, at how pitiful they looked: a God that drank and napped the day away, and a holy relic that could barely walk without collapsing every two feet.

Lys gardens. Before the Lorulian War started he would go to a dedicated area in Lorule where he had planted countless flowers and would tend to them every day. However, when he shattered most if not all the flower had wilted, so he’s working at growing more.

“…”

Lorin moved his hand away from Lys’ but he still set the bottle down. Man why did he always have a way of getting him to talk. He made him, he shouldn’t be so easily persuaded by his own creations. But then again…Lys reminded him of them. The ones he lost when the Triforce was destroyed. 

“It’s complicated stuff that I don’t really want to remember. Alright? It’s easier if I just don’t have to talk about it. Talking about it makes me remember and I hate it. I hate remembering.”

A quiet sigh of relief escaped from the relic’s lips, glad that the other wasn’t going to drink the bottle immediately. With great care, Lys then shifted his arms so both were settled neatly in his lap, padded by the soft fabric beneath them.

Stress was the main reason why mortals drank, wasn’t it? Drowning your sorrows... it seemed like an incredibly apt saying when one thought about it. And honestly, Lorin had probably drank enough to fill an entire ocean at this point. Eyes shut at the thought as Lys gave a faint nod.

“Understandable...” 

mERCY….YOUR GRACE….