Malli
"Granny, what're we doin down here anyway?" She asked with a gentle squeeze on the big woman's cloak. She gazed down from the mossy cliff at the hidden black city beneath this strange, starry cavern. It was beautiful down here, Malli definitely thought so. The ceiling left her in big awes for a while, and Papa had found so many big tasty crabs for them to eat!
Now, though, Granny slowly descended herself and the smaller girl across the gap. Papa had been sent to track down some doohickey, and the weird grumpy knight had gone with him. "Granny simply has to find a special toy down here."
"A toy?" Malli asked ad they landed on the cold stone rooves. It felt... dead here. Still, like water in a pool that hadn't been cleaned out for a long time.
"Yes. It's very special. We need it to help out your other grandparent."
"I got another?!" She exclaimed excitedly as Rennala's glintstone blades tore through the weird and gloopy things as the two passed across old dark halls and grand staircases long consumed with sticky moss.
"Oh, yes. A very special grandparent."
"Is it a grammy or a grampy?!"
"Hmm, you know. That is a question you should ask them." She tapped the girl's nose, who giggled as she wiggled it lightly.
"Grannyyyyy!" She giggled more as she hopped from her arms.
"Well! Then I just gotta work extra EXTRA hard to make you all proud!" She exclaimwd, throwing her arm forward with a finger pointed. It was the coolest pose she. She just wished she had a sword. A sword would make this extra mega cool!
Her granny giggled at the pose, giving a clap. "Oh, my! What a hero!" The little heroine giggled happily. "Well, if you are to be a hero." The old queen slowly pulled out a soft bound piece of cloth. It was navy blue, but lined with a trim of ruby treated gold that gave it an almost bloody shine. "A good hero needs her sword, hm?"
Malli's eye got big, walking over slowly as her granny unfolded the cloth. "Granny made this for a very special someone, but she never really took to the sword the way her father did." She smiled tenderly, which Malli noticed she always seemed to do when thinking of her husband.
The weapon itself was fairly small. It was a long needle like sword, with a handle that stretched metal into lots of pretty shapes like droplets of gold dancing around shooting stars. The blade itself, as her granmy drew it free, was a long and sharp triangle of red that almost looked like it was glowing. "Wow..."
"Marvelous isn't it?" She slowly sheathed it before offering the blade to their little hero. She knelt down just like in the picture books, taking it with her head nearly on the floor.
"Thank you, my queen." She said as serious as death. She could hear Granny stifle a giggle, but that didn't matter. She finally had a sword. She had a real way to help and fight with Papa and Granny and everyone!
"Let me lead the way, your majesty!" She turned, starting to march with the directness of a drill sergeant. "To jerky, and Victory!" She declared triumphantly as she marched forward with the smile so filled with hope.
...
Godwyn
It felt... strange. I was trapped, in a way, between states. Alive, but not quite flesh. Dead, yet not so dearly departed. I could exist within the trees, be then sapling or the rwin, now singulsr great Erdtree. I could leave, but it was ephemeral. I could whisper into minds, but it was bare. Is this the rebirth Mother had granted? It was... isolating. Was this... truly better than the release of death?
I floated for a little. Perhaps it was days. Perhaps it was weeks. I only knew the destruction of the Haligtree meant an end to one madness. An end to the suffering of too many. Or... was it? I gazed around, a single soul in an endless sea of untalking, vaguely existing glimmers. No sound. So voice. Only sight. Only souls.
How many of these little lights were those of the Haligtree, denied true end and taken by the Erdtree? My hand beheald one, taking in its almost gossamer gentleness. It was so frail. Why had they not yet been healed? Mother was a god. Even without her, this place should be able to rejuvenate anything with ease. So... what good was there in this ambient isolation?
"For some, it is called being at rest my child." A beautiful, soothing voice that seemed to blend the echo of an old church bell with the softness of a tiger's purr. It was... awe inspiring even to hear.
"Who...?" I turned toward the voice as pale white glow descended from high above. She was... radiant fell short.
Her hair danced like starfire in blues and white arcs of curling bundles traveling over shoulder and back. Her skin was this almost oaky brown, flooded by the barest hue of crimson that made her truly shine like a goddess. Her visage was motherly in the purest sense. Warm and bountiful blessings clad in long white robes that trailed through the air in glistening trails of white flame.
"I am Skithistalia. Formerly, Life Herself."