Nelene

A woman kneels in a cathedral.

Unaware of the eyes that have followed her form since she first set foot within.

The fragile silence is broken by a deep breath.

She lowers herself, letting her forehead rest upon the smooth stone.

The statue before her casts an intimidating shadow.

A shiver runs down her spine, and she lets her eyes slide shut.

High above, there is a slight shift.

A quiet footstep, long gone before it can even reach her.

The figure leans forward, dark gaze locked upon her form.

It has been so long since someone has willing knelt upon this stone.

So long since an offering has been left.

...

Let alone a prayer.

And yet here a scene is laid out.

A woman, knelt before a statue.

All taking place on land blessed long ago.

"Blessed Nelene,"

The figure shift once more.

A gentle breeze carries indistinguishable whispers.

Mummers of the power held within that name.

A name supposed to be lost to time.

"May this follower's words be heard. Your guidance is sought, God of the Dark,"

Another breeze, the whispers louder than before.

The woman pauses, lifting her head slightly as if trying to listen.

Her brows furrow, and she sits up to peer behind her.

Of course, nothing is there.

She is alone within the cathedral.

Alone except for-

She takes a moment to breathe.

Then she sinks back to the ground, and closes her eyes once more.

The figure smiles wryly, and covers their mouth with a hand.

How odd.

...

How thrilling.

"The Old Gods have been lost with time, their followers minds becoming muddled with the works written as the New World has come forth. My mother was a follower, of yourself and Axvion. She-"

A shaky breath, and the woman fell quiet for a few moments.

She opened her eyes, following the design on the floor beneath her.

"My father decided to burn the books passed down from generations. There are.... Rumors. Of books that have, miraculously, survived. I am requesting your guidance, Nelene. Anything, that will lead me to even one of these books.... Please."

Silence falls throughout the building.

The woman does not move from the position she settled herself into.

The candles continue to flicker.

A statue continues to loom.

A figure continues to watch.

It takes a few more minutes before the woman stands. She pulls her coat tighter around herself, and proceeds to head to the doors.

No whispers follow her out into the night air.

The doors close with a gentle thud, and the cathedral is empty once more.

---------------

A giggle, poorly muffled by someone's hand.

The shadows curl, and out from behind the statue steps a figure.

They have a giddy grin on their face, and let out a laugh as they move to where the woman had been kneeling.

"Axvion! Axvion, did you listen to that?!"

They call out, brushing a hand through their hair.

"You're too loud sometimes, Nelene."

There is a growl, and another figure approaches from the hallway nearby.

Nelene tuts, and turns to face him.

"Unimportant. There's still a follower, Axvion. A descendent of-"

"Her mother had books from ancestors. Books from the True World," Axvion sighs. "Are you sure her words can be trusted?"

Nelene hums, settling themself at the feet of the statue. They peer at him through hooded eyes.

"Are you not the God of Voice?"

There is a tense pause.

Then Axvion sighs.

"She wasn't lying. At least, not unless she possesses a silver tongue and decided to-"

Nelene groans and leans back, cutting their friend off.

"It has been so long since one of us has had any followers, Axvion. This.... New World has ruined our images. She spoke the truth- What more do we need?"

They scowl bitterly at the ground.

"Your impatience will lead to your downfall... However. A single book can be lost. There are enough that it wouldn't be too great of a loss, don't you agree?" Axvion murmured.

Nelene straightened, their grin returning immediately.

"Take care of your follower, Nelene. She prayed to you. Let her know that you listened."

Axvion dipped his head, before retreating back down the hallway.

The other God chuckled. They got to their feet. "Work to be done, once again. What a pleasant change." They crooned.

A breeze rose (but there were no open windows, or doors?) and the candles lost their flames.

Shadows overtook the cathedral, and there was a soft laugh before silence.