#sympatha

It’s MY obscure fandom and I get to decide the random lesbian ships I put in it

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The morning prayers had come and gone, studies and debate fading from hearing as the quiet shuffle of feet replaced those quietly fervent sounds. Hooded figures departed from the pews, out to forever overcast skies and the beams of light which pierced the cloud cover. To travel down the towering steps into the mix of steeples and rolling archways, under the cover of herbs and spices burnt in reverence, past the ever growing patterns which have covered this world of prayer.  But there was one figure which did not depart from the building on high, whose hand waved to close the heavy set stone doors, whose command of the realm was absolutely assured as candled with snuffed and walk ways were cleaned. Their Stuffed Servants busied themselves in preparing for the afternoon, flying in graceful fluidity to call the time and ring the bell located so wonderfully high above. Structured as the figure wished, ordered in perfect balance. She gave no pause as the sea of her little ones swarmed around her, slinking past in silence to slip away from it all. Down she traveled, bare feet silent as stepped upon well worn stone, deep into the very depths of her own domain. Her hand found a familiar impression upon a dead end, soft words whispered as a gentle smile curled her lips. A passage opened and in she stepped, her own private sanctum, away from the world she had crafted.   A private Abbey of her own design, to worship and reflect, to meditate upon the matters of her life. She moved to the small mat that she had knelt upon so many times before, plants from her old world potted and arranged around her, a small totem of her lord placed before her, and with a sweep of her hands lit the candle light to her left, to give a soft glow. Ritual word given, a quiet gesture drawn across her chest, she folded her hands and put her mind at ease, feeling the inner balance within her resonant as she rose to a meditative state. Sympatha Obsidione then thought deep upon her past and actions, reflecting over her life as her Overlord did. A Vassal she may be, she had worked and struggled her way to a position of deep relevance, becoming far more respected and powerful than she could have ever hoped in her past. And yet, even with these reflections and appreciations, still she felt the gnawing  of the past, of what could have been if things had gone differently. She suffered still in thinking of when the one she loved had disappeared, how all those she had once called allies split apart for opposite extremes, leaving her in the middle and trying to maintain balance. How she toiled for so terribly long, grasping at flickering hints and fragments to find her place in the world, to regain what she had lost, to.... “My apologies for interrupting, Sympatha.” Started out of her meditative ascendancy, a short gasp escaped her, eyes opening as hands came to press against her chest. She had been too deep, thinking too hard about her regrets and past, not moving forward as she had taught, sh- “It's just that I noticed something seemed out of balance, and I know how you feel about such things.” The Overlord brought a clawed hand up to his face and gently tapped the corner of his eye. Sympatha, tilting her head in slight confusion, mimicked and...to her surprise, found a tear was there. A sigh left her, a mental scolding given, as she dabbed the corner of her eye and spoke to the god she worshipped. “Thank you for letting me know of such an error, Fatescar. I had thought the pipes and channels were better organized, but it seems that even down here there is the slightest of leaks. Something I will fix, all in due time. “ She was dismissive, of course. And the Overlord knew exactly why. But yet, stubbornly, as always, he pressed the issue...in his own way. Quizzically, he brought his hands behind himself, held tilting to the side as resonant voice came out in a soft coo. “Ah yes...those blasted pipes and channels. Such is the plight of having such things on your Floor. I'm sure you've already prepared a myriad of solutions to bring things back to order and correction, for balance sake, naturally. “ He chuckled, a light and airy sound, before his expression grew soft and that whimsical tone of his left. “Though, I doubt such things will help in bringing peace within.” Sympatha started to protest, nearly rising to correct, but Fatescar rose a hand and turned his face away, eyes closing as to let her know that he fully intended to continue. “We've traveled together. We've brought worlds together in peace and order, torn them apart to cleanse corrupting stagnancy.  I know you know that I would never judge you for reminiscing, which is why I apologize for starting you in such a way. “ He gestured lightly to her, nodding in understanding as a familiar sensation of calm fell over her. Sharing in that emotion, knowing the truth in his words and just barely touching upon the edge of his divinity...Sympatha relented with a soft sigh. “I know...and though there is no shame in looking back at the past, to know regret, it still feels like a terrible slight. “ She turned her head to the side, slight shame tinting her tone. A far cry from the usual vigor and vibrant eloquence she held about herself, the fall from meditation had left a tender wound that still smarted, even despite the understanding shared between them.  Fatescar, arms still behind his back, nodded in agreement...before adding. “To reflect on one's past is to acknowledge who you were. To embrace it as you are and then learn for the future. “   Fatescar's serious tone ended after a moment, a light chuckle escaping from his golden interior as he reminded gently. “I at least hope that I and your followers aren't the only ones practicing what you write. It'd be quite the spectacle if I end up quoting you more than you do. “ Sympatha scoffed, light hints of amusement tinting her tone, a hand raising to hold her cheek as she rolled her eyes at the Overlord. “Please, my Lord. You can't think that your usual lame jokes and acts will rouse me out of how I feel. We both know that I end up making it far harder, for your sake.” Fatescar, grinning wide, tilted his whole body to the side in acknowledgment, that mischievous ring returning in full force as he teased. “Oh, but of course~! How could I provide anything but the best for someone like you? If you give me a chance, I'm sure I could blow those cloudy thoughts away. “ A fascimile of an eyebrow raised in questioning. Sympatha, huffing, trying her best to hide the amused smile that was starting to curl at the corner of her lips, she waved her hand in permission, not wanting to speak to rob him of the satisfaction that he was helping her feel better. And the moment she did, she was once again reminded of her Overlord's terrible habits of preparation. A Scuttler had been pulled from the aether and found themselves in either of Fatescar's hands, he already preforming a small show just for Sympatha as Scuttler squeaks sounded out with every juggled toss. The small chamber was soon filled with squeaks and soft giggles, a private sanctum no less quiet but still serving its purpose. Sympatha's worries and regrets, sorrows and sadness, soon faded away...replaced only amused laughter and pleasant exasperation for the Overlord Fatescar.