Blackfeather Woods we live in a society

My god, Maegi whispered, smiling. She felt a warmth surround her, a comforting caress. All the same, she momentarily panicked. How to make the intangible tangible—how did she explain something that had been second nature to her since birth? The pressure twisted her stomach, and she paused a moment, face contemplative.

Jaes. . .has no name. It means 'god,' in my family's old language, she continued, finally. Jaes is formless, nameless, sexless—Jaes is everything. All else is falsehood, pretending to be someone or something else. Jaes is truth, concerned with life and death and all that comes in-between.

The words came, and kept coming. She surprised even herself, even after speaking with such conviction on deities for so long. This felt better than any other diatribe before it.

Jaes isse. . .'in Jaes.' Ñuha āeksio, ñuha Jaes—'my lord, my god.' But you do not have to have my family's tongue to speak to Jaes. Jaes will come if you speak from your soul.