Blackfeather Woods blind to this impending fate

It wasn't surprising that Parvati didn't know of the daedra. Most newcomers to the woods didn't. That meant, however, that it was an opportunity to teach her—but instead, Maegi fell into the role of student as the other woman tossed unfamiliar names and concepts her way. She tested the word (words?) silently on her tongue, brows drawing slightly together in concentration.

The world was too complicated to be ruled by simply one god, and even the daedra were not alone. Whatever or whoever these wadj-wer were, they were important, at least to Parvati and her family. They may not be worshiped here, but they deserved respect.

The sects. . .that sounds like my religion, Maegi responded. She nodded to the Altar. My grandmother came here and founded this place; she worshiped Mephala, the Night Mother, and Sithis, the Dread Father. Those are just two of the daedra. Others, like me, strayed away from them, and have chosen different gods.

Was Mephala angry with her, for the betrayal? Is that why the voices here were quieter than before?

There was time enough to tell Parvati of her customs. For now, she was intrigued. Tell me more about the wadj-wer, she insisted gently, resting back on her haunches, the crow forgotten.