A dark and very dense can of worms indeed, and Simon's stomach sinks ever lower with each aspect of this that unfolds. It ought to be a comfort that Fern is in no immediate danger, but he doesn't know how to console her even about half of this, even about Sina's loss alone, let alone the theological quandary it opens up.
"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his hand rubbing numbly at her back as she sobs. "I knew she was in a bad way, but I didn't know--I'm sorry." And he is, truly is; he'd known so little about Sina, but that little had been admirable. 'Sorry,' though, doesn't answer Fern's question, nor allay her fears.
He would have had the same answer as Jehan, if asked not so very long ago. He would have regretted it, would have hated having to say so, but for all his pondering of the Chant, would never have known any real reason to question the simple notion that the faithless wander the Void after they die. But Myr--Myr finds inroads into these things, interrogates bits of the text that Simon has never had to, for his own sake and his family's sake and his people's sake, and it's for this that Simon is now eternally grateful, even if he'd told Myr at the time that he wasn't sure about it at all.
"Listen. I didn't know Sina well, but I know she was a kind soul. Anyone who would make a forest like that as a gift--make it because she knew how we Andrastians had suffered on its grounds, because she wanted to reach out to us even if she didn't believe in our Lady or the Maker--that sort of kindness is what Andraste wants from us all. There's people who sing the Chant every day and make a show of all their grand tithing that Andraste wouldn't approve of the way she would that."
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"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his hand rubbing numbly at her back as she sobs. "I knew she was in a bad way, but I didn't know--I'm sorry." And he is, truly is; he'd known so little about Sina, but that little had been admirable. 'Sorry,' though, doesn't answer Fern's question, nor allay her fears.
He would have had the same answer as Jehan, if asked not so very long ago. He would have regretted it, would have hated having to say so, but for all his pondering of the Chant, would never have known any real reason to question the simple notion that the faithless wander the Void after they die. But Myr--Myr finds inroads into these things, interrogates bits of the text that Simon has never had to, for his own sake and his family's sake and his people's sake, and it's for this that Simon is now eternally grateful, even if he'd told Myr at the time that he wasn't sure about it at all.
"Listen. I didn't know Sina well, but I know she was a kind soul. Anyone who would make a forest like that as a gift--make it because she knew how we Andrastians had suffered on its grounds, because she wanted to reach out to us even if she didn't believe in our Lady or the Maker--that sort of kindness is what Andraste wants from us all. There's people who sing the Chant every day and make a show of all their grand tithing that Andraste wouldn't approve of the way she would that."