Going into holes, hehehe.

Ow... ow... ow...

Resting on my sleeping mat after another hour of sparring, practicing, and learning; everything aches, my head from the learning, and my body from the rest. Attempting to retain information on how to fight, while your arms feel like popping cleanly off your torso, is quite hard. My internal groaning and 'ow's are halted when a soothing sensation comes over my body; accompanied by an Utterance.

"Restore."

Gabriella had just come down from the deck, it seems.

"Too much fresh air up top?" I ask, still refusing to move.

She sighs, clearly a bit tired. "My Lord Brother is manifested above, and I wished for time... away. It's been good seeing him; especially in such high spirits, but a woman needs her time to herself every now and then."

Puzzled, I say. "But you aren't by yourself; I'm here."

Her tired voice is matched with a gentle joy; much akin to the smell of honey on a morning breeze. "Well, we've never truly got to know one another, have we? I've known you almost as long as Miss Cilla, but we've never spoken of ourselves to the other... mostly out of fear, on my part..."

We really haven't have talked much, have we... wait a second; what did she just say?

"You're afraid of me?" I ask; even Zana seemed to be fine around me, and she's more mousey than... well... a mouse!

What is a mouse? Oh gods damn it; another thing to ask Prissy...

"Well, I wasn't... until you mentioned those who brought you here. Mostly... Melanoche. I know you've taken by brothers pacts, and I have seen you act kindly; but her presence upon your creation has... shaken me." The Emissary-to-be rubs her hands nervously.

"Why her in particular?" I ask. "Wouldn't Carnachias be more..."

"I could care less for the Whore God of Debauchery." Gabbie says; disgust in her once gentle voice. "The She-Devil; Queen of Murderers... she killed my people, my flock. The faithful of Yrit. Every last man, woman, and child who prayed to him... died in agony."

That must be what Thrusk spoke of...

"The... Night of Bloody Tears?" I ask; given a nod from our healing helper in confirmation.

She holds fast; even with the words of woe coming from her lips. "A **** curse; cast with an incantation so long, it took days to complete; using both own Emissary, and half of her devil horde as the catalyst. All who worshipped Yrit bled profusely from the nose, ears, mouth, and most 'famously' their eyes; until ****. It was an attempt to take away my brother's power to bring back the other Chosen, to take away their failsafe... it failed; as the power was still fueled by someone's faith. Someone who did not worship a dead god..."

Seeing her meaning, I reply simply. "You."

"Yes..." Gabriella replies, tightening her fists; not in anger, but determination. "I was in our mothers womb when Ariel left. I was born, and raised, knowing him as a Chosen of the Light. I worshipped him; long before his ascension. I... want to be like him; I suppose. Not a God, but..."

"Extremely effeminate?" I ask in jest.

"Loyal, charismatic, inspiring." Says Gabriella, ignoring my joke. "But I'm about as dull as dish water. None would hear my sermons in Tomo; and when we made port in Riptide, it was much the same..."

I'm unsure what to say; as she said, we know little of one another aside from what we've heard said aloud. Small talk... small talk...

"So, you're Amazonian?" I ask; causing the Priestess to look at me in confusion.

Regaining composure after a whiplash from crippling self-doubt to trivia, she replies. "Yes. Well, half; but Amazonian blood takes hold strongest in females. Ariel may act like its just his locked age which makes him short, thin, and pretty; but amazonian men are always that way. That, and his father was an angel; the epitome of effeminate. It's as if someone hand-picked the two things to make the prettiest boy they could."

Gabriella started giggling to herself at the thought; during which, I ask. "So, you two had different fathers. Why is that?"

Recovering from her own joy, Gabbie says. "Ah, well. It was a fertility pact. Our mother wished to bare a child with my father, but an Amazon can only reproduce with humans, normally. My father was a dwarf, you see. It's why I'm so..."

...

"Short..."

If I were drinking something right now, I'd have spat it out. "Short!?"

"Yes! I know I am!" Says the woman standing almost at my own height, whose arms have proven themselves fully capable of hug-based-****. "If my father were a human, or an amazonian, I'd be as tall as our mother. Around eight feet..."

My back hurts already, just thinking about an eight-foot tall Gabriella; handing out hugs...

I ask a question to clear my head; and ease my terrified spinal cord. "So, this fertility-pact, why an angel of Yrit? Wouldn't Maiyo be more in line with that sort of thing?"

Calming from her 'short' rage, Gabriella answers; saying. "Yrit was my parent's patron; and any of the God's angels can provide such a pact. In return, the child born from the act of signing the pact will serve the angel, much like a squire."

That 'Helper' class I saw from Ariel makes alot more sense now...

The Priestess continues, saying. "But, birthing a second child after a nephilim would be rather... dangerous. Most would die in the attempt; even the angel, should they be the female in this scenario. Because of this, until the child the pact was signed for is born; the age of the pact maker and their partner, is halted. Yan, Ariel's father, was still waiting for him to reach the age of twenty; so he could take him to the heavens as his warrior-servant. Then, Ariel was made Chosen just after his nineteenth birthday... and Yrit ended his own life to create The Lamb; his guardian spirit."

"What happened to Yan?" I ask.

I knew he had passed; Ariel said as much, but what was the cause?

Now saddened by my question; she says. "An angel is an extension of a God's power; when the God dies, so do their angels. The same goes for devils; should we refer to them as anything more than dirt..."

"Hey now, I've met some devils in the Runacathies worth way more than dirt." Say the all too familiar voice of the God of Martyrs; as he walks past the cloth drape covering the doorway.

Stuttering and shaken by her kin's sudden arrival; Gabriella blabbers out. "Oh, heavens! Ariel! How much did you..."

"All of it. You do remember you're carrying my Alma on a stick, right?" Ariel replies. "If you wanted to have some alone time, you could have just... asked, you know? I wouldn't have been mad."

"But..."

She's cut off by her divine sibling. "No buts! I'm your big brother before I'm a God. If you need something; tell me. It's not sacrilege to want some time alone."

Now easing herself, Gabriella smiles, saying. "Thank you, Ariel."

"Now, about that prettiest boy comment..."