Vox is not the goddess of deception, nor of truth, but of what is kept, forgotten, or guarded. She walks the twilight between gods of order and entropy, war and peace, life and death. She records everything but speaks sparingly, ensuring that passion, politics, or pride do not corrupt memory.
Where the Morrigan shapes fate through war, Vox shapes understanding through reflection. She is honored by archivists, monks, medium-oracles, and subtle enforcers of balance who ensure that nothing is erased, but not everything is revealed.
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