But she did not act.
Xerosis understood the danger all too well.
Once she responded, once she allowed herself to be shaped by their voices, there would be no end. Every answered prayer would invite a thousand more. Every miracle would tighten the chain binding her identity to mortal expectation.
She would become what she had been avoiding all this time. A god molded by the hopes, fears, and worship of others.
A reflection instead of a self.
And so she endured the strain in silence, choosing restraint over ease, preserving her sense of self, even as the world clamored for her to become something else entirely.
Even as Xerosis labored to refine the excess of tainted faith flooding her realm, her thoughts repeatedly returned to Tide.
