[The same pantheon? Sothis had claimed no siblings or peers, only her many children of both the Nabateans and Fodlan humans. Byleth had even asked if there were others like her, and she had dismissed the question without answering it. Not suspicious when it came to Sothis: being such a contrary, fussy little thing, she took exception to the randomest and innocent of questions.]
Very well. I'll continue to sing. I fear it'll not be in a language known to you, though.
[Sothis had corrected his words when she had heard him sing it the first time (it turned out Jeralt pronounced some of the words wrong when recollecting it from Sitri's singing and, as a result, had given Byleth "an atrocious accent"), and it sounded like nothing in Fodlan or beyond it. A lilting language that was almost haunting and ethereal when raised in song, as if it was evolved through music alone.
His voice was already warmed and prepped, so Byleth rested a hand over his unbeating heart and closed his eyes as he resumed from where he left off. There was something inherently soothing about the song, that coaxed anxieties to settle and worries to seem a little less than they were - almost like a lullaby a mother would sing when soothing their child freshly woken from a nightmare.
(Because that is exactly what this song was - the one Sothis sang to her children, and who in turn sang it to theirs... and which only survived because Rhea had clung to the memory of it with a white-knuckled grip, had crooned it to an artificial vessel that she eventually adopted as her own daughter - because it was a failure in becoming her mother.)
How Set would feel about the song, though... that remained to be seen.]
no subject
Very well. I'll continue to sing. I fear it'll not be in a language known to you, though.
[Sothis had corrected his words when she had heard him sing it the first time (it turned out Jeralt pronounced some of the words wrong when recollecting it from Sitri's singing and, as a result, had given Byleth "an atrocious accent"), and it sounded like nothing in Fodlan or beyond it. A lilting language that was almost haunting and ethereal when raised in song, as if it was evolved through music alone.
His voice was already warmed and prepped, so Byleth rested a hand over his unbeating heart and closed his eyes as he resumed from where he left off. There was something inherently soothing about the song, that coaxed anxieties to settle and worries to seem a little less than they were - almost like a lullaby a mother would sing when soothing their child freshly woken from a nightmare.
(Because that is exactly what this song was - the one Sothis sang to her children, and who in turn sang it to theirs... and which only survived because Rhea had clung to the memory of it with a white-knuckled grip, had crooned it to an artificial vessel that she eventually adopted as her own daughter - because it was a failure in becoming her mother.)
How Set would feel about the song, though... that remained to be seen.]