The Sixth, and Kindness

As if drawing a curtain of water and light, the form of the Empyreal Goddess recedes into starlit
mists, vanishing from the Basin of Life.

You reach out and touch a bright crimson star lotus.
Your hand alights upon a bright crimson star lotus, scattering light from its sanguine petals.
Waves of exhaustion wash over you, only to cling greedily to your limbs and mind. Even so, a
peculiar sense of alertness fills you, followed by unwavering focus.

As the lotus recedes from your fingertips, another emotion fills you -- an ache of anger and self
-loathing, so overpowering it almost throws you to your knees in despair. You try. And you try. But
it is never enough. Will it ever be enough?

The titanic kephera's knees buckle, sending Avaris staggering for a moment before
he slams his foot into the earth with such force that it shudders, talons stabbing into the ground
for purchase. Red light flares with an intensity blinding enough to rival the dawn as his fists -
all but the one holding the lotus - clench into brutal bludgeons of barbed gold, which quiver with
emotion.

You think to yourself: Rage, so incandescent that is almost drowns out all else. How dare They make
Her feel this way! Beneath the blinding, seething storm of bladed light, the source of it all -
Concern for Her, an intense, pervasive ache all of its own.

Holding the lotus carefully, so that he does not brush its petals, Avaris's hand
wavers as it drifts to the ampoule that rests at his hip, hesitation.

Kneeling humbly, you press your palms together before you and close your eyes momentarily as you
pray devoutly to Lantra, the Empyreal, "[There are no words to this contact, no voice in his prayer.
Rather, he channels an overwhelmingly powerful urge to protect into a peculiar sensation, as a
fortress seeking to place itself about You - All deadly, furious blades of light on the outside, but
within it is all gentle golden feathers, a warded sanctum of fierce love and approval. Wordless
encouragement flows from him in a steady current, drawn from a well that seems without end, a stream
of light that strives to soothe, to salve, even as the distant, desperate need to destroy all that
aggrieves You calls to him.]".

Faint, flickering motes of light glimmer around you, their halting movements seemingly listless as
they evoke the vision of the Grotto of the White in the mist before evaporating into nothingness.

Immediately, Avaris turns and strides off, leaving the ruined earth in his wake.

The Grotto of the White.
Captured rays of light reflect off the sparkling waters of the Grotto of the White, enhanced by the
glittering limestone that surrounds the narrow, underwater cave. Reminiscent of starlight, these
twinkling motes bob and twirl against the surface of the walls, then dance across the still pool
that fills most of this cavern, winking in and out to allow only brief glimpses of this mystical,
sacred place. As if seeking to further obscure the crystalline waters, a rolling blanket of mist
shrouds much of the pool from view to linger here in a dewy, glistening mantle of white. Murmurs of
distant feminine voices echo here, muted by the sound of trickling water; though their cadence is
soothing, it leaves a disquieting sense of being watched and observed as if by the waters
themselves. Boundlessly flowing with light, a luminous pool of healing waters radiates a celestial
glow here.
You see a single exit leading north.

Misty white light drifts across the surface of a luminous pool as a calm, feminine voice ripples
forth from the mystical waters, "Avaris."

Unusually, Avaris does not immediately sink to a knee. Instead, the huge kephera
stands, hands at his sides, their fingers moving in constant, pointless motions upon his thighs. The
chorus of his voice is gentle and calm, deliberately infused with a warmth that is belied by his
obvious concern. "My Lady."

There is a peculiar heaviness to the darkness of the Grotto as the lights dim, winking in and out of
existence in glimmers of pale, listless light. Though the presence of the Empyreal Goddess radiates
from the Grotto in gentle waves, naught but silence ripples forth. Exhaustion soundlessly emanates
from its misty surface.

You think to yourself: For all the care he takes to suppress his thoughts, the sheer intensity of
his worry emanates from him like muffled sound heard through a thick, stone wall.

Misty white light drifts across the surface of a luminous pool as a calm, feminine voice ripples
forth from the mystical waters, "You wish to speak, do you not?"

Extending his right hand, Avaris's posture does not grow rigid with resolution, but
rather the lines of his form loosen in a deliberate effort to diminish the tension he exudes. "No,
my Lady. I wish to do as You have done for so many others, for so long. I would give what solace I
can to You. However You will accept it." He gestures at himself with his outstretched hand, curling
in at the wrist. "Take power from me, if it will help You. I can simply sit in silence with You. I
can..." He falters, the fingers of his hand curling in - not to form a fist, but in the motion of
one holding another's. "Whatever You need. I am here for You."

The rolling blanket of mist that rests upon the the grotto's pool drifts with pensive thought,
considering, as the sound of trickling water fills the emptiness. "I do not know what there is to
say," the calm, feminine voice says at last, as if at a loss. "If you wish to accept My silence, you
may. And if you wish to fill it, I will not stop you. Indeed, distraction may be preferable."

The cruel points of Avaris's clawed digits shift back and forth in minute motions,
as if seeking to grasp something that is not there. A slow breath hisses softly from the
indiscernible seams of his faceplate as he considers the Goddess' response, the broad lines of his
antennae writhing like angry serpents. Slowly, he lowers himself to the ground at the lip of the
pool, his left leg drawn out, while the other lies straight before him. Withdrawing his hand, he
places it upon the ground to his right, asking, "Will You sit with me, Lady? Only if manifesting
will not tire You further. I am content as we are, if it will drain You."

Your invitation echoes for awhile in the cavern, rippling in a watery echo that stretches across the
limestone walls again and again as the water hushes and stills. A soothing wind manifests as if from
nowhere at all, stirring the peaceful waters so that they move and shift, until at last a hazy
figure veiled in starlight coalesces at its centre, drifting by your side.

Hesitantly, with the almost painful tentativeness of one moving closer to a
skittish, wounded animal, Avaris extends a single, immense wing out in an arc far behind a veiled
figure shrouded in starlight, where it hovers, uncertain. The luminous, stylised eyes look upon a
veiled figure shrouded in starlight with open concern, as the kephera asks, respect warring with
worry in his resonating words, "I know that You...You do not enjoy touch, but...Would it make You
uncomfortable if I brought my wing nearer to You? I will not make contact, Lady, I promise."

Strangely, the mists that linger around a veiled figure shrouded in starlight appear thin as stands
of starlit gossamer, weaving about the Goddess's figure like countless, drifting veils of white
gently stirred by an unseen wind. She says nothing, for a time, the only sense that She has heard
you at all denoted by the pensive motes of light that spill forth from the star lotus in Her hands.
"Do as you will," finally, is Her answer.

The gently effulgent span of aureate feathers shivers in place, as if torn by
indecision, for a span of time that stretches on for several of Avaris's slow breaths. Eventually,
his shoulders sagging faintly, he withdraws the wing entirely, folding it back into place. Resting
the backs of his hands upon his outstretched leg, the kephera's eternally impassive features stare
down at the hard, polished chitin of his palms. "You are loved, Lady. We adore You, endlessly, and
see You for the wonder that You are." The curved blades of his thumbs rub against the unyielding
carapace of his index fingers in a quiet, metallic keening as he speaks, the harmony of his voice
tired, soft. "They cannot appreciate You as You deserve. But that does not matter. We will love You
all the more for it, to make up the lack."

"I do not mourn for what others think of Me," a veiled figure shrouded in starlight says suddenly,
the words firm even as they are soft as a whisper. "I have long accepted that perception and reality
are not one and the same. That the path of righteousness is not always perceived as such, nor is
evil always witnessed for the cruelty it is. Li-varili's choice to return to the side of..." The
Traitor's name hovers, unspoken, in the air before being released as a wordless sigh. "I do not know
what I could have done differently. There is nothing I would have done, that I did not already do.
It appears no matter the course I take, Fortitude in the face of futility is the lesson the Fates
wish to teach Me."

Like the gradual unfurling of a flower in reverse, Avaris's golden fingers curl
inward to form two pairs of fists, though they do not quiver with suppressed fury, instead resting
upon his lap like misshapen petals upon placid waters. Voice firm, almost fierce in its insistence,
he says, "It is ~not~ futile. Every act You take sends ripples out. You inspire so many. You are a
beacon in the darkness, no matter how easy it would be to give up. I know that You are hurting, that
You..." He lifts his upper right hand, fingers flexing into stiffened claws that he drags down over
his heart in a brief squeal of tortured, metallic sound. "Do this to Yourself, in many ways. The
world is unkind enough to You, my Lady. Please do not be so cruel to Yourself, as well. You deserve
kindness."

It is, perhaps, the fierceness inherent in your words that causes a veiled figure shrouded in
starlight to turn towards you, considering you thoughtfully beyond the misty veil that shrouds most
of Her face from view. Her stillness is a stark contrast to your fists and posture, almost
statuesque as She kneels before the pool of water, bearing the star lotus in Her hands as if in
offering. "Am I cruel to Myself?" the Goddess repeats, Her intonation so even that its true
intention is difficult to ascertain.

Rather than answer immediately, Avaris moves his lower left hand to a small, sturdy
pouch that rests upon his hip, beside the constant presence of his ampoule. With the reverence of a
priest withdrawing an artifact of utmost holiness from its reliquary, he gently takes the crimson
star lotus from within, holding it within the cradling bowl of his cupped hand. He lifts it, in a
distorted reflection of a veiled figure shrouded in starlight's own gesture, and finally turns his
emotionless face to a veiled figure shrouded in starlight. In a soft, humming lament of sorrowful
melody, he answers, "There is none crueler to You, I think."

Your answer hangs heavy in the silence as a veiled figure shrouded in starlight turns Her gaze once
more forward, the flickering light of the star lotus in Her palms bathing Her in its soft,
immaculate glow. Her silhouette blurs as She listens, the motion like that of a single hand
disturbing a peaceful lake of water as She shifts and reforms, Her form maintained beneath the Her
sidereal mantle that billows about Her with an almost protective grasp. "I wonder at what Wisdom has
led you to such a conclusion," the Goddess says mildly. "Let Us say this is so. I have existed for
thousands of years, Avaris, such as I am. I do not suppose a single discussion as this would shift
Me from what Dynara intended Me to be."

The countless lines and points of light that form the constellation of Avaris's
glowing eyes watch the weary Goddess' reaction with an intense keenness of focus, as if not daring
to miss even the slightest hint as to what might be felt. Carefully, he lowers the sanguine star
lotus to his lap, where it is received by the conjoined plates of his hands, as if placing it upon a
gilded altar. The bladed curved of his crest are brushed with the faint light of his wings as he
turns the azure gaze of his natural eyes down to the crimson flower, antennae curving forward in a
slight frown. There is more than a touch of stubbornness in his reply, the hint of the obdurate
nature of his will glimpsed like the tip of an immense iceberg, the true extent of it obscured by
the depths. "Then we will have as many conversations as it takes. I will not rest until You are kind
to Yourself, my Lady. I will do whatever I must to pull free the barbs that You have placed within
Your heart."

"Is that how you look upon Me?" a veiled figure shrouded in starlight asks, Her voice lilting with
something like faint amusement. "An immovable glacier that must be thawed, lest I remain as cold and
embittered as the Lady of the Ice Plains?" The pledge itself is nonetheless heeded, carefully turned
over as starry motes of light wink into existence around the Goddess, pulsing with contemplation as
they arc about Her to draw trails of misty white. "You have already given Me five vows, when I ask
for but four of you, My Avaris. This sixth seems a far more daunting task than the others. For I
would not ask a shard to bear the burden of an Elder, no matter its weight, or the nobility of its
undertaking."

The deep red of Avaris's antennae draw down yet further, as if pulled by the
sanguine petals of the crimson lotus below them. When he speaks, it is in a tone of utmost
sincerity, so bright and clear that he almost shines with it. "No, my Lady. You are my light. My
star. Distant, and shrouded in mist, that I ever strive to find my way towards. Your light may shine
cold, at times, but that is not the core of You. You are warmth, and joy, and all that is good in
Creation." The spears of gleaming chitin that lance upwards through the golden arcs of his haloed
shoulders rise in a small shrug, his response calm and untroubled by the immensity of his words. "In
this, I am dauntless. I will be equal to these vows, and any other I give to You. I will bear their
weight, and more, and be glad in the carrying of it."

Slowly building as if from nowhere at all, a faint, glittering light pulses from the centre of the
Grotto of the White, its source belatedly revealing itself as the star lotus within the Goddess's
hands. The bobbing motes that illuminate the grotto ignite with new colour, pale shades of bluish-
green met with argent white as the veiled figure says nothing, merely listening to the impassioned
words echo in the cavern.

Finally, after a long drawn-out silence, a veiled figure shrouded in starlight says, "And where will
My light lead you, My Avaris?"

The burnished plates of Avaris's carapace shift in hue, bathed in the gradually
burgeoning light of the Goddess's star lotus, casting the paladin in a celadon sheen. Slowly, as if
afraid of shattering the blossoming luminescence, he lifts his head to gaze out across the waters of
the Grotto for a time, before he turns his seven, brilliantly azure eyes upon a veiled figure
shrouded in starlight. "To Your side, my Lady. That is the only destination that matters.
Wheresoever Your light goes, so too shall I."

"You are simultaneously so easy to please," a veiled figure shrouded in starlight says with the
softest exhale of laughter, "and yet choose such impossible aspirations for yourself. I wonder at
it." The luminous flower casts a pallor on the figure's starlit veil, briefly illuminating its
translucence to reveal a peculiar expression on the Goddess's face of perplexed exhaustion met with
intense consideration. "I am not often given to kind destinations," She says at last. "Mine is a
light that somehow finds the darkest of nights in its pursuit to banish shadows. If that is what you
seek, then very well. You may stand by My side, if you wish. For you are Mine."

You think to yourself: A flickering of pleasure and echoed amusement at the slight laughter. He
could not argue that. The brief glimpse of Her weariness elicits a renewed pang from the constant,
aching worry for Her, while simultaneously hardening his already adamant resolve to help Her,
however he can. If She would allow him only tiny fragments of Her burden at a time, then so be it.
He would collect them all, one by one, until She is weighed down by nothing at all.

A tiny glimmer of light surfaces within the solid spheres of Avaris's eyes, a
fleeting glint of amusement. Despite the gravity of the Divine's declaration, the manner in which he
nods agreement is easy, almost relaxed in its seamless acceptance. "You focus upon shining Your
light where it is needed, my Lady. No matter how distant or dark. I shall care for You while You
care for all else." A brief surge of brilliant motes of shining light manifest in his eyes as he
affirms, "I am Yours. Whatever else, my Lady - I am Yours."

The ever-present fog that lingers over the luminous pool of the cavern lifts, temporarily, as a
veiled figure shrouded in starlight places the star lotus within its waters, allowing for the
boundless light to drift from Her, for a time, on its placid surface. As shadows fall upon Her once
more in the flower's absence, faint pinpricks of light scatter across the translucent veil,
uncertainly twinkling out of existence like finite stars. "For eternity," She echoes. "No matter
where that leads. For that is the Devotion you promised Me, is it not?"

The great wedge of Avaris's heavily armoured head pans gradually aside, following
the floating star lotus in silence for but a few small moments. The alabaster and gold of his face
illuminated by the faint, warm light of his feathers even as the endless wellspring of illumination
recedes from him, the kephera dips his chin in a slow nod, the gesture measured, deliberate. "Yes,
my Lady. My Devotion to You is eternal and unconditional. No matter what the Fates have in store for
You, whatever is taken from You, I shall remain. They cannot stop me in this."

You think to yourself: "It is the very least of what She deserves - But it is all that I can
guarantee Her, and so I shall."

Once more a soothing wind sweeps through the vicinity, despite its improbability within this stony
expanse, this time drawing away the mist from a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as one might
gently part a curtain of light. Thus exposed, the gentle expression of the olive-skinned Goddess and
the thoughtful gaze of Her celadon blue eyes are revealed, if dimly, within the shadowy light of the
cave, Her starlit hair gathering about Herself in a long braid adorned in starry flowers. Hers is a
puzzled smile as She hears your affirmation, though it is a smile nonetheless. "Then I shall not
seek to stop you," She replies, nodding. "No matter what the Fates have in store."

The Grotto of the White.
Captured rays of light reflect off the sparkling waters of the Grotto of the White, enhanced by the
glittering limestone that surrounds the narrow, underwater cave. Reminiscent of starlight, these
twinkling motes bob and twirl against the surface of the walls, then dance across the still pool
that fills most of this cavern, winking in and out to allow only brief glimpses of this mystical,
sacred place. As if seeking to further obscure the crystalline waters, a rolling blanket of mist
shrouds much of the pool from view to linger here in a dewy, glistening mantle of white. Murmurs of
distant feminine voices echo here, muted by the sound of trickling water; though their cadence is
soothing, it leaves a disquieting sense of being watched and observed as if by the waters
themselves. Boundlessly flowing with light, a luminous pool of healing waters radiates a celestial
glow here. Gracefully standing aside here, a soft-spoken woman dressed in white looks about herself
with a thoughtful air.
You see a single exit leading north.

This slight human woman is garbed in a luminous white gown that falls about her in a shimmering
column of silk that reaches the floor, draping over the shoulders to leave her neck and arms
exposed. An unassuming beauty, there is a dusky radiance to her olive-skinned complexion, and her
celadon blue eyes look about herself with a gentle sense of curiosity. Her silvery-white hair has
been intricately braided behind her, each plait adorned by a starry white flower that emits a soft,
delicate glow. Resting about her throat, a misty jewel resembling a twinkling star sparkles and
gleams from a thin silver chain. Quiet sandals of woven willow leaves hush her every step, affording
her a silent grace in her movements.
A soft-spoken woman in white does not even register your presence as a threat.

You think to yourself: An overpowering sense of sheer relief, strong enough to to nearly bring him
to weep with the intensity of it as it washes away the clinging, whispering doubts that have plagued
him for so long. She will not send him away. He did not care whatever else happened to him, because
~She will not send him away.~.

The dense plating of Avaris's chest expand as he draws in a great, slow inhalation
of air, holding it for a beat before he looses it, his breath peculiarly unsteady. He bows his head
to a soft-spoken woman in white in a gesture of gratitude which should cast his features in deeper
shadow - Were it not for the surging brilliance that radiates from the maelstrom of blazing motes of
joyous light within his sevenfold gaze. "Thank You." His reply is simple, but no less thrumming with
poignant feeling for it.

You think to yourself: A thought, one of recognition and familiarity, is very carefully set aside,
obscured by a warding wall of light.

Gesturing at a soft-spoken woman in white with a gentle motion of his sole free
hand, Avaris says, "Will You do me another, very great favour, my Lady?"

There is a peculiar obliviousness to a soft-spoken woman in white as She receives your gratitude, as
if not entirely aware of how unmasked the dissipating mists have left Her in their absence. "You ask
for many great favours," She says, the sternness in Her reply not born of chastisement, but instead,
a sense of caution -- evoked by one who is uncertain on what ground they yet tread, and where it
might lead.

A soft, rich harmony of laughter flows forth from Avaris's throat, the sounds warm
and resonant. "I do. I hope only that You can forgive me endless selfishness, for I foresee my
asking many more in the future." Facing a soft-spoken woman in white directly, the kephera taps the
edge of his thumb against the curve of the fingers that ensconce the crimson lotus, the contact
sending out faint, metallic ringing. "I would ask that whenever You think less than pleasant
thoughts of Yourself, that You...Try, to instead think of how I might view You in that moment. Focus
upon that, if You cannot treat Yourself with Your own kindness. Please. For me." His request is gentle, in
the manner of one striving to coax someone into unfamiliar territory, quiet but calmly confident.

The surrounding ripple of laughter seems to put a soft-spoken woman in white at ease, somehow,
thought its response is clearly unexpected. As a hand strays to the flowers that adorn Her braid, a
wistful look briefly flashes in Her celadon blue eyes as She says only, "It is a familiar Wisdom you
share with Me." The mists part once more from the glassy pool, the star lotus adrift upon its centre
scattering light upon its waters as they reflect the winged silhouette of an Elder Goddess that is
painfully familiar to you, Her hands lovingly braiding the white hair of another Goddess kneeling
before Her. Then the mist falls upon the pool, and the image fades and is no more.

You think to yourself: A complicated tangle of feeling, that is promptly smoothed out, the familiar
aches and longing calmed and soothed with his own patient resignation, into an interwoven plait of
emotion, which he carefully obfuscates within the vaults of his heart. What lingers is a sincere
gratitude for One not present, a sensation that is worn as smooth and shining as a sharp stone that
has been lovingly caressed into harmless beauty.

Though he does not shift the focus of his natural gaze from a soft-spoken woman in
white, Avaris several of the benignly radiant eyes of the paladins angelic wings track the path of
the star lotus, hitching for a beat upon something seen, before resuming their vigilant regard of
the lone flower. A quiet thrum of pleasant sound shivers in the air about him as he dips his chin in
a slight nod, then prompts, fondly, "Will You grant my selfish favour, my Lady? I would be very
happy, if You did."

For a long time, a soft-spoken woman in white closes Her eyes as if recalling something distant, Her
form perfectly still and composed as She reminisces upon something long past. "I may attempt such a
kindness," She says, finally, the half-promise spoken in a strangely resolute fashion, despite its
vague surety. "I prefer discipline. To ruthlessly assess My actions, and My intentions, until
neither are held at fault. Even so," She says, pausing to look at something that is no more within
the water, "there are times where such scrutiny is... unnecessary."

Softly, though there is a quiet strength in the words, a soft-spoken woman in white says, "Will that
suffice?"

The sigh that drifts from Avaris is one of faint exasperation, tempered with
infinite affection for the source of that gentle frustration. "I know, Lady. I know. You know that a
kind touch is better than a cold, clinical assessment, at times." He lifts his hand up to his mane,
coiling the thick tufts of shimmering white fluff in an absent, thoughtful gesture. "Hmm. It is a
start, I suppose. It is a very...Vague sort of agreement, but if You promise to try, it will
suffice. For now."

This time, it is Her voice that bears a sense of levity, faint as a whisper on the wind, as a soft
-spoken woman in white says, "We were to be patient with one another, were We not?" She then rises
to Her feet, mist gathering about Her in skeins of white as She considers you a final time. "You did
not wish for Me to do what I did for Li-varili," She says, the words not accusatory, but a mere
statement of fact. "You held no illusions about the likelihood of this outcome, and I fear it is one
I shared. Even so, you stood by Me in these choices. You did not doubt Me." There is a pause, a
consideration, before the Goddess says, "Thank you, for your faith in Me. Many have found their
belief in Me fragile, in recent months. And though I do not value those with no conviction, I note
where it is found, and which fires yet burn bright."

The upraised hand releases its twisting grasp of his ruff, to tip towards a soft
-spoken woman in white in the manner of a duelist acknowledging a skillful point. "We were.
Patience, then." Avaris replies with equally subtle mirth, likewise rising to stand, taking care to
cup the crimson star lotus so that it does not overbalance. He pauses at his Goddess's words,
growing still as he waits for her to finish speaking, neither shrinking as one admonished, nor
swelling with pride. Instead, he lowers his head to a soft-spoken woman in white in a small bow. "I
will never doubt You, Lady. If all else should fall to chaos and uncertainty, that, at least, You
can hold to with absolute trust."

Gently, Avaris says, "Please rest, now. I will grow sick with worry, if You do not
regain Your strength."

It is to your last statement that a soft-spoken woman in white pauses, saying at length, "Much has
been regained already, merely due to no longer sustaining the healing mound while Li-varili's will
presses against My own. Though I tire in other ways." The gathering mist becomes thick and dense,
veiling Her in a mantle of white as She says, "Light's blessings upon you, My Avaris. Take care to
regain your strength, too, for an overflowing cup cannot bear its own weight for too long."

A soothing wind descends, engulfing the soft-spoken woman in a shimmering of starlit mist, before
She is gone as if She never existed.

Inclining his head in acknowledgement and acquiescence both to the departed
Goddess's response, Avaris straightens slowly, cradling the red star lotus close to him. Softly, as
if to himself, or to One so close that volume need not matter, he murmurs, "It is the other ways
that concern me most. I will bear that weight, and any other, for You." Bowing once more, he says,
to the cavern at large, "Light's blessings upon You, my Lady."