Malia didn’t nod since it was clear that she agreed on that subject. Knowledge was important, but one should be realistic about it. Or else it could easily backfire.
Then she hesitated. Tanroa. The Goddess of Time had helped her by giving her past back to its original owner. She didn’t support Malia per se, but rather She was driven by the urge to create an equal battle and watch it unfold. Perhaps She was curious. Malia didn’t pretend to know what deities were thinking, but she had a vague feeling that They were not unlike mortals in that regard. She assumed that a Nuit could try to understand a God’s thinking and succeed more than a pulser though. They could live forever, after all. But two hundred years was nothing in the face of eternity, so she wasn’t sure.
The real question, however, was how much she should tell the Akvatari. From what she knew, they were an isolated people, with melancholy and art being their defining characteristics. Because they could hardly be understood by outsiders, they rarely ever bonded with others. Perhaps it was also due to their quiet and introspective nature. Malia wasn’t sure, but she could tell that this particular Akvatari was merely curious. She neither looked as experienced nor as cautious as someone who was involved in shady business. Thus, the probability of her being related to Malia’s enemies was lower than low. She could trust her. Art was something Malia wasn’t interested in, but that probably qualified for another advantage. Eventually the decision was an easy one to make. She’d share whatever Trista asked about as some kind of gift. Malia didn’t fully understand what was driving her either, but her instinct was never wrong.
“Tanroa, I owe Her.” And she was fully aware of the fact that she spoke Her name only to taste it in her mouth, to let her thoughts linger because the Goddess had a meaning to her. For some unknown reason, Malia started to rely on the belief that the Goddess supported her and that she bore Her mark. It was so much easier to cling to something ... rather than despair and fade away. Tanroa gave her existence as a Nuit substance. Tanroa had created her!
“After my transformation I couldn’t remember my human life anymore. Amnesia. She showed me what I had forgotten and gave back my memories and story. This story entails a purpose, something I must do.” She had already mentioned that purpose and she didn’t care to repeat herself. “I a way, she created the present ‘me’, the person that is speaking now. What do you think?” The question came out of the blue, formed by a breath into thin air. Malia was interested in Trista’s opinion. As an Akvatari, she had to think a little differently than most pulsers Malia had come across. After all, one never knew when knowledge might prove to be useful.
