Sun Mote Copse o quam sancta

eshamun drew in a breath as knowingness dawned over asherah's lovely features, and though the sylph did not cry, the emotion that broke over the shores of her voice sparked a similar reaction in the ekar-aji. khalba was silent, lending his strength to the both of them, and the woman's viridian eyes alit upon her lover before she turned her attention to asherah.

"this is the way of the malkaria -- this is the way it has always been, and always shall be. in the years to come, many children will be born among us, and raised to serve molech -- perhaps even from your own body," she murmured gently, encouragingly. "but the firstborn child of every year must be laid in molech's arms if we are to survive. because we are foreign here, without a home and the protection of our god, we must appease the eight-armed one with ... all of them."

she drew a shaking breath and lifted her chin. "i am sorry, asherah, but this is molech's way. without the divine protection, we would die." she was silent then, watching the young one as grief threatened to flood her cheeks with tears.