Marisiel

After uncounted years of fighting against demons, spirits, and even mortals, Marisiel had still not found a way to prepare herself for battle. She sometimes envied Ysora, who had, and Hephestia, whose nature was such that she did not need to. Hephestia was the youngest of the three, wrought after Miriam had seen fit to weave anger into the world, and righteous wrath—the desire and even need to punish wrongdoing—came much easier to her. Her sisters among the archangels were elder, preceding to some degree the creation of anger; and Marisiel, at least, had never become fully accustomed to it.

Ysora's methods were more to her liking, but Marisiel was unable to emulate them. Thoughts crept in inevitably whenever she tried to clear her mind, thoughts like: why did this happen? What should we have done differently?

How did it come to this?

Marisiel glanced sideways as Istomilo echoed what she'd thought so many times before. It was the first thing he'd said to her in some time. Oh, they'd spoken a few times, discussed matters of tactics and asked for advice on the Queen's sorcery, but he'd been speaking to one of the Valkyrie's generals, not to her. There was for some reason a difference, to her mind. And in fairness, she had not been speaking to Istomilo, former Prince-Consort of Phaedra, who'd chosen Heaven and her above his own people. She'd been speaking to a military advisor, who could have been anyone but just so happened to be him.

She didn't know how to talk to Istomilo the person anymore. It was- there was something about him that made it harder than it used to be, or maybe it was her who'd changed. She didn't know what she wanted to say to him, much less how to say it. So she'd retreated into business; it wasn't as though the war effort didn't demand their every waking hour. In turn, he had made no effort to talk to her, which made her think he didn't want to, which only made it worse...

Until now.

"Everything moves so quickly down here," she said, offering her own meandering thoughts. Miriam's anger at the Queen of Phaedra had yet to abate; for Heaven, the betrayal was still fresh. Marisiel, who'd spent the war going back and forth, was beginning to realize just how significant the difference between the two realms was. The Valkyrie's perfectly rational anger seemed an undying, terrible thing down here, and she sometimes wondered if that time differential might be to blame; if the goddess had years to think, perhaps she would find some other way... But then, Titania had had ten years to think, and she hadn't drawn back from the war at all. So perhaps the blame lay on Titania after all, and not on the differences between Heaven and Earth.

Not much of a conversation, but it was more than they'd shared for years. "I'm glad we don't have to destroy her," she offered, hoping to spark more.