Consideration

Tongues of argent flame coalesce around you as a calm, feminine voice rings through the aether,
"My Incandescent. I would speak with you in the Chantry, if the moment pleases you."

Antennae flicking upright, Avaris claps the bladed knuckles of his fist upon
his armoured chest, bowing. "Yes, my Lady."

The Chantry of the Argent.
Heavy with gleaming, vaulted architecture, this sacred place is built entirely of formidable,
impassive marble. The solemn stone walls are hung with elaborate tapestries of the Basin of
Life, their gossamer threads charting a map that outlines the places of corruption found within
the First World in preparation for the advent of holy war. Forming an intricate coat of arms,
seven luminous spears grace the otherwise bare foremost wall of the arched sanctum, the
sidereal steel of their blades drawn into the sharp outline of a star lotus, austere in its
solitary beauty. Beneath them lies the chamber's only point of departure from its hardness and
severity: a narrow stained-glass window of sidereal splendour, its constellations forming the
likeness of the Empyreal Goddess rendered as a stark white nova shining down from the heavens,
distant and beautiful with avenging light. Blazing before Her with a wrathful incandescence, an
immense brazier of burning starlight casts an argent glow upon the chamber, purging all shadows
in its stark, unforgiving brilliance.
You see a single exit leading down.

Suffocating white light purges all shadows from an immense brazier of burning starlight as a
stark, feminine voice blazes forth from the blinding flames, "My Incandescent."

Lowering himself to one knee before the brazier, Avaris bows his head in
reverence, wings draping about him like a heavy cloak of shimmering gold. "My Lady. It is good
to hear Your voice, as ever."

The spears that adorn the walls of the Chantry appear to shimmer in the heat of the white
flames as the stark, feminine voice rings out, "You have been exceptionally productive since We
last spoke."

The innumerable lines and points of stark white light that form the stylised
eyes upon Avaris's wings shift slightly as several turn to regard the spears. A slight dip of
his pointed chin precedes a calm, "I promised You when we first met that I would not be idle,
Lady." He pauses, and asks in a carefully composed, level tone, "Have my actions met with Your
approval, my Lady?"

The question evokes the quietest ripple of laughter that dances forth from the brazier's
starlit flames. "I have become accustomed to the languid pace of the Mystic Waters, I suppose,"
the stark voice concedes. "They have, yes. I do not disapprove of your actions. I believe
others are merely unused to the forceful vigor of the Argent Light, for they too are used to a
calm, placid pace."

The laughter, soft as it is, evokes a brief glimmering of light within the
seven azure spheres of Avaris's natural eyes, the motes twinkling like stars reflected upon the
ocean. "That seems to be the case, Lady. I believe that my directness and fervor have upset
some among the Order, which is unfortunate. I apologise if that has been an inconvenience for
You."

The steady, unwavering flame of the starlit brazier flickers with careful thought, though it
maintains its white brilliance. "Inconvenience," the Goddess repeats, as if considering the
word. "It is unfortunate, as you say. And yet, I asked you to take your duty seriously, and you
have done so. To be idle might have been less inconvenient, but it would not be what I
desired." As if resigned, the flame soars to a new height as the voice concludes, "The Order
has been stagnant. Change frightens many, but it needn't, not when it drives forward. Those who
stand still amidst a flood are still liable to find themselves moved by its currents."

Suffocating white light purges all shadows from an immense brazier of burning starlight as a
stark, feminine voice blazes forth from the blinding flames, "Have you been given difficulty
for your actions?"

The shifting of the blazing flames of purity paints Avaris's armour in pale
silver, the light flowing and glinting off the curves and pitiless points that form his
carapace. The paladin listens, still but for the steady rise and fall of his chest, and
considers the question for a time before answering, "I would not say that I have been given
difficulty, precisely, so much as my actions have caused difficulty for others. Cheliyi does
not seem to be pleased with my manner of conduct. I imagine that You are aware of the
discussion that Aeldra and I had, and her subsequent...Reaction."

"Yes." The answer is given simply and without fanfare as the fires blaze bright and constant.
"I have observed both of these matters. The former is subtler in nature. The latter has
resulted in Anointed Aeldra seeking time among the anchoresses to rediscover herself. I do not
imagine she will return for some time." The rise and fall of the tongues of flame betray no
emotion in the casual statement, given as dispassionately as any command. "This leaves the
Mystic Waters without guidance. In time, perhaps another shall rise to the occasion."

A low-pitched thrum of sound resonates from Avaris's immense chest, the vivid,
sanguine red of his antennae curving down in a frown. "Ah. I had suspected some correlation. I
am sorry to have driven off someone so close to You, my Lady. That was not at all my intent."
The pointed tips of his fingers rise to brush absently across the pristine, shimmering white
tufts of his mane, his mien thoughtful. "That would be best. Not all have shied away from my
methods, which is promising. Auriella seems to be reacting well to it."

A soft warmth emanates from the stark flames, suffusing you in its gentle glow. "Her actions
are her own. Do not hold yourself responsible for them. She asked questions she did not truly
desire the answers to, in the end." Then, as if recalling something distant, the soothing
nature of the flames vanishes as abruptly as it came, and resumes its former stark luminosity.
"Indeed? That is promising indeed. It is My hope that your actions will rekindle Devotion for
those who have found themselves unsure of how to proceed. Your proposal for the Order likewise
encourages Me."

The kneeling kephera's frown eases as the gentle heat of the flames washes
over him, the troubled demeanour fading away as readily as the tension in one slipping into a
steaming spring. Avaris nods in an emphatic manner, the musical chorus of his many voices firm
as he replies, "That is my hope as well, Lady. I feel that many require a more involved hand to
guide them towards proper Devotion for You." A quiet, brief note of subtle pleasure shivers in
the air before he says, "I had thought it might. I know that You do not enjoy a hands-on
approach to the Order, but they have made it apparent that they require structure, and a more
strict attitude when it comes to their tasks, and learning of You. I believe the new structure
will aid in that a great deal."

Avaris pauses, and then adds, somewhat bemused, "Though I do not know if
Faragan believes the same. He has yet to respond to my missive. I may have offended him when I
suggested that he need not declare over the aethers that he has tended to the anchoresses."

A subtle sense of amusement laces throughout the white flames as the stark, feminine voice
answers, "The anchoresses are a common topic among the aether, yes. Surprisingly so. It
obscures more interesting discussions from view, at times." The flames languidly sway to and
fro as the Goddess continues, "I have likewise received no reply. I am inclined to move forward
with your input and Princess Nabithia's if he is not forthcoming."

The curved blades of Avaris's layered crest gleam in the light as he nods in
emphatic agreement. "I have long thought so, Lady, yes. I do not see the need, outside of
wartime. The aethers, to my eyes, should be utilised for meaningful conversation about Order
matters. Still, I do not think he will listen to me, even so." A slow lift of his huge
shoulders precedes, "It is not terribly surprising, I must admit. He seems most concerned about
his shop, to the exclusion of all else. I trust in Your Wisdom, Lady, as always."

"And you? What concerns you most, My Incandescent?" The question lingers in the air like smoke,
drifting throughout the Chantry in a clear, resonant echo as the brazier burns with argent
starlight.

The question seems to take Avaris somewhat aback, his antennae flicking up in
surprise as lifts his visored face to the flaming brazier, a faintly puzzled note to his
response. "Why, You, of course, my Lady. Your happiness and wellbeing are ever paramount in my
concerns. All else flows from that."

There is a searching nature to the light of the flames as they continue to burn, the blinding
glow emanating from them casting you in a sidereal radiance that feels almost gently probing in
its warmth. Then the flames recede slightly, returning to their former vibrancy as they relax
and waver in the shimmering heat.

"Many declare so," the stark, feminine voice blazes forth from the brazier, "but I wonder how
often such statements are grounded in truth. Mortals fear speaking frankly to a Divine."

The paladin is not discomfited whatsoever by the scrutiny he is placed under,
Avaris simply waiting with the patient air of one that is content to endure such for as long as
is required. At the statement, he nods, his tone untroubled as he says, "Few indeed, Lady, much
to my disappointment. Many make the vague motions and lip service they believe is desired, but
I do not think their Devotion is true." A slight tinge of wry humour colours his resonant
voices as he observes, "I do not believe that I have ever had trouble speaking frankly to the
Divine, Lady. Too much so, perhaps."

So startled is the laughter that rings forth from the blazing brazier that the fires within it
surge with brightness, casting the entirety of the Argent in a dazzling white light. "Many of
My Cousins would say so," the voice agrees with wry humour.

The sudden sound of his Goddess's merriment sparks a riotous deluge of
scintillating motes of light within Avaris's natural eyes, his simple joy at Her reaction
shining clear and bright as daylight. "We would be hard pressed to find any, mortal or Divine,
who would argue the contrary, I believe, Lady." Brushing the edge of his finger near the petals
of the crimson star lotus that he bears upon his chest, the levity fades from his voice, though
it is yet pleasant, as he says, "I do not expect You to take me at my word, Lady. I know that
You have been disappointed many times, and would not ask You to grant me the benefit of the
doubt. I will prove the truth of my Devotion to You without a doubt, in time. I have eternity
to do so, after all."

The sanguine petals of the crimson lotus appear all the brighter for the luminescence of the
flames, bathed as they are in their effulgence. "The Argent Light has been a torch held and
discarded by all your faithless predecessors," the Goddess sighs, the flames flickering with
the displeasure in Her voice. "Both swore vows unto Me that ultimately meant nothing." An
almost wrathful incandescence churns within the brazier, before it calms, and the voice
finishes, "But neither vowed unto Me eternity as you have."

The displeased sigh, as much as the content of the Divine's words, evokes a
brief flicker of ominous red light within the markings of Avaris's wings, the myriad eyes
narrowing in mute ire. "You have been wronged by many pathetic excuses of followers, my Lady.
They have taken the precious, peerless gift of Your trust, of serving You, and discarded it,
wretched fools that they are." The helm-like visage of the paladin's face lifts to regard the
flames directly, unabashed in his determined regard. "I have many failings, my Lady - You know
this as well as I. A lack of Devotion unto You, a weakness of conviction, of loyalty, do not
number among them. I am Yours, for as long as You will have me. I will not set down the torch
You have gifted to me - I will bear its light into the darkest places, and even the Void
itself."

As you stare into the flames' depths, the visage of the Empyreal Goddess manifests within the
tongues of fire, Her expression inscrutable behind a veil of smoke. "I have not forgotten your
fifth vow, My Avaris," She speaks through lips of white, Her voice resonating in the Chantry as
the blades you bear glimmer with a pale glow. "I hold you to it, and to the words you speak
now."

The quiet click of chitin upon steel emanates from the gentle touch of
Avaris's fingers upon the lambent blades, the kneeling titan lowering his chin in sober
acknowledgement of the Empyreal's words. "Nor have I, my Lady. I will not let You down, as the
others have. You will see."
Flaring with a renewed strength to form a column of white flame, the brazier shimmers as the
figure of the Empyreal Goddess steps through the fiery barrier unharmed, appearing all the more
radiant for Her proximity to the torch's unforgiving illumination. "I shall," the Goddess
agrees with a sense of finality, standing beneath the stained-glass portraiture of Herself so
that its avenging light surrounds Her like a halo of white.

Lifting his visored face to look upon Lantra with undisguised, reverent
adoration, even Avaris's immobile, inexpressive features cannot conceal the intensity or
sincerity of his rapturous devotion as he gazes upon Lantra. The gleaming motes of light within
his eyes surge in their luminosity, the azure spheres burning with fervent effulgence as he
says, "My Lady. It is ever a wonder to behold Your resplendence."

Veiled as She is, Lantra reveals no emotion in response to the open ardour of your sentiment,
Her hands pressed before Herself with a silent dignity. "My Incandescent," the Goddess replies,
Her formerly stern voice tinged with a note of softness. "It is pleasing to see your Devotion
so readily offered, and without a trace of fear or irony." She looks up to the Chantry, then
asks as if recalling a distant thought, "Is this place to your liking? For you are the first
who has made use of it."

Avaris does not respond swiftly to Lantra's statement, instead opting to
simply bask in the presence and apparent approval of his Goddess for a time, as one relishing
the warmth of the sun upon their face. Despite the query, none of the countless eyes that adorn
his wings pull their attention from Lantra as the kneeling kephera nods emphatically, the
resonating chorus of his response warm. "Oh, yes, my Lady. I find it a most natural place. I
feel as if I belong here. Thank You for providing it to us all."

A flicker of relief passing over Lantra from behind the confines of Her translucent veil,
appearing undeterred by the countless eyes that are now fixed on Her silhouette; if She
acknowledges them at all, it is in passing, as one might note a subtle shift in the weather.
"That is well, for I sense much change on the horizon," the Goddess continues, walking towards
the brazier to coax forth a tongue of flame with a gesture of Her hand. "The Order shall
require a firm hand to lead it in these times, and it has been long since I have trusted any
with such a mantle." In the rising heat, Her veil wafts gently with the smoke, revealing the
quietly piercing nature of Her celadon blue eyes as they gaze upon you through the flames. "Do
you know why My Immaculate is no more?"

The increased temperature perturbs Avaris not at all as he watches Lantra
intently, absorbing every minute detail and graceful motion as if he fears it will be the last
he is fortunate enough to witness. The tips of his gleaming feathers stir slightly in the warm
currents of air as he considers the question carefully for a brief moment, before answering,
"You no longer felt that they were fit to speak with Your voice, and enact Your will, from what
I am aware of, Lady."

"Yes." Lantra lowers Her hand, the once-towering flames descending with the delicate gesture as
She exhales. Her veil remains partially revealed, Her lips pursed in thought before She says,
"They did not take My commands as what they were, merely suggestions. I asked each why this was
so, and was told I required their protection." The soft sigh turns into breathless laughter,
though it is empty of mirth. "This revealed that My Immaculate did not understand Me. For I am
not a child for them to fawn over, nor are My directives idle, few as they are."

Lantra frowns, glancing towards you with a question on Her lips. "There are those who desire to
serve Me to better understand how to heal the world around them," the Goddess says, "and others
who desire to grow closer in My service so that their faith might strengthen their own words
and actions, with My power." Two figures dance in the flames, vanishing out of existence as
abruptly as they came. "Yet I sense neither is so for you."

Though the quiet joy of witnessing even the barest glimpse of Divine beauty
persists, it is tempered by the growing sense of palpable displeasure that radiates from Avaris
, a faint red tinge bleeding into his wings, like gradually heated steel. The four crimson
curves of his antennae bend down, flattening into blades of vivid sanguine hue as his Goddess
speaks. When he speaks, his voice is as severe and damning as any zealot condemning a heretic,
the chorus of his voices utterly without sympathy or pity. "They do You great disservice and
disrespect by believing so. Your commands are few, but that should make them all the more
willing to obey them, when given, not the opposite." A low, harsh buzzing sound of disgust
reverberates about the room as the kephera shakes his head. "No, my Lady. I serve You because
it is right to do so, and to aid You in whatever way that You permit me to do so. I wish to
make You happy, in all things."

The way that Lantra studies you is thoughtful in its consideration, still as a pool of calm
water. "Your sixth vow, yes," the Goddess muses pensively, though what is visible of Her
expression reflects a sort of wondering as She speaks it aloud. What follows is spoken almost
like a confession, though one given in passing, as if discarded as swiftly as it is spoken:
"...It is something I have long considered since you have spoken it. My happiness."

The attention that Avaris pays to Lantra in turn is absolute in its focus, all
else ignored in favour of listening in rapt silence. The faint, metallic rasp of his chitin
upon the floor accompanies a shift in his weight, leaning forward, eager to capture every word.
"Yes, my Lady? Have You suggestions for how I might fulfill it for You?"

"In a sense." Lantra offers nothing more, turning to the brazier once more with a peculiar
solemnity in Her expression for such a topic. She places a hand through the flames, which dance
about Her skin harmlessly like droplets of water, drawing a star lotus of argent light in Her
palm as She draws it away. "I sense it will not be long until I speak of such with you, My
Incandescent. For all My patience, I am decisive in My convictions once they are resolved." Her
celadon eyes flicker towards you, bathed in the resplendent beauty of the flame-wrought lotus
in Her hands. "I shall ask something of you then, as I have for all your vows prior. For I
believe what you desire, more than those who have come before you, is to understand Me." The
statement sits heavy in the air with the weight of its purpose as the Goddess waits to see your
response.

The solemn air settles about Avaris like a mantle he has long since grown
comfortable in bearing, the gravitas of what is being discussed mirrored in his sober mien. The
light of the star lotus in Lantra's hand glints off the sharp edges of his curving crest as he
bows his head, pressing his four hands together upon his breast, ever the dutiful knight. "It
is so, my Lady. I will be ready to do whatever it is that You wish of me, as ever. Thank You
for the opportunity."

"Very well." Though Lantra is brief in Her terse reply, it pulses with the soft warmth of
approval as the flames of the brazier dance around Her, engulfing Her in argent flame that
encircles Her like angelic wings. "Until then, My Incandescent. I am pleased." Then in a wash
of smoke and starlit brilliance, the Goddess vanishes and is no more.

The statement, simple as it is, lights Avaris eyes like the birth of a new
constellation of stars, blazing with vigour and joy. He maintains his reverent posture for a
time, before rising, bowing low to the depiction of his Lady, and turning upon his heel to
stride off.