![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
howsweetthesoundShe knelt, and began in her native tongue - she was never any good in Common. Language was a creation of mortals. The Light spoke everything.
"O Light. Know that I am here on the three-hundred-and-eleventh day as the first, and know that a thousand more days will I endure for your grace, and a thousand and a thousand after that. You are my patience, because your mercy is inevitable and eternal."
The pale stone stairs bit into her knees, but she was used to it by now - she shifted her weight and continued.
"You test your faithful, because true faith is that which is held even more dearly in times of strife then in times of plenty. I have earned these tests, and I will not despair, because you are with me, and you are my hope which will never be extinguished."
Before her, the gates of the cathedral, its spires and staring windows, its towers that stretched to the sky, watched coldly.
"Know, Light, that I have sat among the worst of sinners and taken meals with murderers, adulterers, and thieves, and know that I see, in your greatness, that they can be redeemed. I know that with you, all things are possible, even the purification of the foulest of evils and the illumination of the darkest depths. You are more powerful then them all, O Light, and all of your children shall be saved, and when that day comes it will make up for all suffering."
Her eyed drifted closed. Do not recite the words. Say them each time as if the prayer was new. Let your belief not waver in any syllable.
"There is no greater fate."
Carefully, she stood and approached the doors - confident at first, but then cringing and shrinking back as if pained or struggling against an invisible force. She slowed, slowed, feebly tried to move further but - stopped her advance. Shaking, she backpedaled. The tension ran out of her shoulders, replaced with a limpness like someone tortured.
Let your belief not waver.
"Patience," the Death Knight trembled, replacing the helmet of foul metal that cast her face into shadow and turning away from the church, "Hope."
"O Light. Know that I am here on the three-hundred-and-eleventh day as the first, and know that a thousand more days will I endure for your grace, and a thousand and a thousand after that. You are my patience, because your mercy is inevitable and eternal."
The pale stone stairs bit into her knees, but she was used to it by now - she shifted her weight and continued.
"You test your faithful, because true faith is that which is held even more dearly in times of strife then in times of plenty. I have earned these tests, and I will not despair, because you are with me, and you are my hope which will never be extinguished."
Before her, the gates of the cathedral, its spires and staring windows, its towers that stretched to the sky, watched coldly.
"Know, Light, that I have sat among the worst of sinners and taken meals with murderers, adulterers, and thieves, and know that I see, in your greatness, that they can be redeemed. I know that with you, all things are possible, even the purification of the foulest of evils and the illumination of the darkest depths. You are more powerful then them all, O Light, and all of your children shall be saved, and when that day comes it will make up for all suffering."
Her eyed drifted closed. Do not recite the words. Say them each time as if the prayer was new. Let your belief not waver in any syllable.
"There is no greater fate."
Carefully, she stood and approached the doors - confident at first, but then cringing and shrinking back as if pained or struggling against an invisible force. She slowed, slowed, feebly tried to move further but - stopped her advance. Shaking, she backpedaled. The tension ran out of her shoulders, replaced with a limpness like someone tortured.
Let your belief not waver.
"Patience," the Death Knight trembled, replacing the helmet of foul metal that cast her face into shadow and turning away from the church, "Hope."
