GRACE UNDER FIRE
It was oddly silent here today. The air was still and calm, and practically nobody standing within the temple courtyard.
Tup-pa. Tup-pa.
It felt somewhat unnerving to hear one's own footsteps echoing so loudly, but the creator of such a disruption in the atmosphere didn't seem to feel a thing. In fact, she didn't feel a thing at all, because how could one possibly exercise this sense of emotion if one were emotionless? Dipping her head to the only priest on duty, Sorano would carry her load through the back of the temple, past the altars for the many deities that the people of Oak Town might worship. Here, rows of smaller altars were lined up, some consisting of no more than a picture or two and a pot of incense. Here were the family altars, places to honor ancestors and deceased family members.
A while back, since Sorano had discovered the Oak Town Library, she had made this quaint little place something like a secondary home. Having set up as all family altar for her parents and siblings, she had visited from time to time. Now, however? It has been several months since her last visit.
Tchk.
The match was slowly lowered to the incense sticks, and before long, the faint scent wafted throughout the temple. The bouquet was laid gently before the holder, and the letter mage carefully kneeled down before the pictures. Bowing a few times she would rise again and exit, waving goodbye to the priest. Standing before the temple, the realization came upon her that she had nothing to for once. Surprising how odd it felt.
Tup-pa. Tup-pa.
It felt somewhat unnerving to hear one's own footsteps echoing so loudly, but the creator of such a disruption in the atmosphere didn't seem to feel a thing. In fact, she didn't feel a thing at all, because how could one possibly exercise this sense of emotion if one were emotionless? Dipping her head to the only priest on duty, Sorano would carry her load through the back of the temple, past the altars for the many deities that the people of Oak Town might worship. Here, rows of smaller altars were lined up, some consisting of no more than a picture or two and a pot of incense. Here were the family altars, places to honor ancestors and deceased family members.
A while back, since Sorano had discovered the Oak Town Library, she had made this quaint little place something like a secondary home. Having set up as all family altar for her parents and siblings, she had visited from time to time. Now, however? It has been several months since her last visit.
Tchk.
The match was slowly lowered to the incense sticks, and before long, the faint scent wafted throughout the temple. The bouquet was laid gently before the holder, and the letter mage carefully kneeled down before the pictures. Bowing a few times she would rise again and exit, waving goodbye to the priest. Standing before the temple, the realization came upon her that she had nothing to for once. Surprising how odd it felt.
words@Sora