He had renounced those labels as easily as he had renounced his divine essence.
Gods... they were just humble servants at the edge of a simple truth.
“Hello, Miristal,” he said, bowing to the maiden standing before him.
She was the most radiant of the night sky’s luminaries. Dressed in armor forged from the light of the brightest stars, with a crest that glowed like an evening star, she stood before him. Her golden hair shone brighter than the sun itself, and her beauty was something that even the most talented of artists would not be able to capture.
In her hands, she held the tip of her spear.
“Did Irmaril let you come here to see me?” He asked in a calm and measured tone.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” she replied in a voice that made even the simplest words sound like an ether
