Reassurance

Illyria gives a notepad clad in stygian, feather-embossed suede to you.

You tilt your head curiously.

(Page 1)

         Lord of Silence, shrouded One,
         Father of the Night,
         Shelterer of quiet souls
         From harsh unyielding light,

         To Your ears I whisper now
         A quiet supplication.
         Under blackthorn tree I bow
         To shape my soul's foundation.

         Burn away the chaff and dross,
         Bathe my soul in darkest night.
         Forge me into sharpest blade
         To cut away all trace of light.

         Take the weakness from my soul
         And bury it beneath the trees.
         Pure and dark, as beautiful
         As blackthorn petals on the breeze.

         Veil my face in inky shrouds,
         Take my eyes as offerings,
         All the better for to see
         The beauty of the Night's dark wings.

         Let me be a lovely lure
         To tempt them to spread wyrden seeds,
         Cloaked in silence that obscures
         A midnight rose of blackest deeds.

         Show me what to slice away
         And what to seek in turn.
         For my heart a greater prize,
         The chance to grow and learn.

         Guide my hands to trade my life
         To help the Wyrd grow stronger,
         Bring our foes to grief and strife,
         And cast Night's shadows longer.

         Wrap me close beneath a cloak
         Of unrelenting void,
         Bolster shade within my soul
         And see the light destroyed.

         Shadows hide and guide my way
         Along the path I tread,
         Keep the doubting words away,
         Let silence reign instead.

         Wisdom lies in whispers soft
         Or saying none at all.
         Help me know when best to speak
         To guide them to their fall.

         Let them lean in for to hear
         The words that leave my tongue.
         Power to strike love or fear,
         A trap that may be sprung.

         Clear my eyes to see the way
         Through dimness and deceit.
         Help me weave that selfsame web
         To knock them from their feet.

         Veiling truth in shades of grey
         With sweet manipulation,
         Each opponent falling prey
         To lies and defamation.

         All these things I pray of You
         To help me be Your tool.
         Woven into stronger whole,
         A dark and glittering jewel.

         I am one of many now,
         A drone inside the hive,
         Silent One, to you I vow
         To help Glomdoring thrive.

Comprehension flashes across your face.

"Before I turn it in to Enur Il'dal Tau," Illyria explains quietly.

In dark, lyrical tones, you say to Illyria, "It is beautiful."

You have emoted: Esei runs their fingers over the page, humming faintly.

Illyria smiles softly. "I performed the full ritual in the Fulcrux," she says in a muted voice, holding up a hand bandaged with black ribbon. "He didn't seem to be aware, though." A small shrug. "That, or He didn't care for it much."

Voice containing an undercurrent of cracking glaciers, you say to Illyria, "I find it highly unlikely He was not uncaring of your efforts - simply because there is no sign does not mean that He is not there."

Illyria nods. "You're right, of course," she murmurs with a smile. "I've just... never done anything like that. It has me a little on edge."

You have emoted: Esei places a crystalline hand on Illyria's shoulder, skin flickering with accents of gold and amethyst. "You have done well."

Illyria looks up at you with a small smile, the faint tension in her shoulders falling away under the reassuring hand. Her eyes express gratitude for the words in a way her closed mouth fails to.

You have emoted: Reaching up to cup Illyria's cheek with their other hand, Esei smiles faintly. "Fear not," they whisper. "He is always watching, from the dark corners in a room and the branches above, from shallow creeks and from within us. Even if you do not see Him, He sees you."

Illyria nods, making no move to pull away. Her eyes soften further as you speak. "Yes. He's always watching," she says in a deeply fond whisper, one that turns into a sigh. "I just hope He's not watching with disappointment, is all." She looks away with her eyes. "Sometimes... I wish desperately for people to stop asking what I'll do next and just -tell- me what I should be doing. I always end up happier that I'm finding my own path, but.. sometimes the doubts creep in."

You have emoted: Esei pauses, dark skin briefly swirling with what looks like smoke. "What do you think you should be doing?"

Illyria tilts her head. "What I mean is..." she pauses. "Every step I've taken since leaving the Portal is one I've had to fight for. Learn for myself, be good and smart and bold enough for my choices to be taken seriously, always have the right answer on hand." She smiles wryly. "I feel less like a new soul and more like an old one on trial, half the time."

Illyria straightens. "But, as I said. It's better this way. It's made me stronger. More clever. Helped teach me to take initiative."

Voice containing an undercurrent of cracking glaciers, you say to Illyria, "There is no shame in being worried, or being wrong."

Voice containing an undercurrent of cracking glaciers, you say to Illyria, "I certainly am not right all of the time."

Their voice softened to two stones gently scraping together, you say to Illyria, "You are not on trial, and I highly doubt He is disappointed in you."

Illyria nods slowly, looking down, then ventures, "What would have happened if I wanted to join Glomdoring and hadn't done all of that preparation? If all I knew was that I wanted to be here? It felt like I was one wrong answer away from being turned away, the whole time," she says softly.

Voice containing an undercurrent of cracking glaciers, you say, "Your answers may have been different, but not inherently wrong."

Quietly, Illyria says, "And if I had no answers at all? If I had needed to learn from scratch?"

You have emoted: Esei tips their head, eyes scanning over Illyria's face and reflecting it back at her. "Then you still would have learned," they point out. "Maybe you would not have started at the same point, but you would have -started-, and that's what matters, no?"

Illyria nods, looking oddly comforted. "I think... it's good to know that. That I don't always have to be ahead, and right, and extra clever. That I won't be punished for being wrong and needing to learn. I had just... got that impression, is all."

Voice containing an undercurrent of cracking glaciers, you say, "Being wrong is punishment enough, I think."

Illyria laughs slowly, dryly. "You're right about that," she murmurs.

Voice containing an undercurrent of cracking glaciers, you say to Illyria, "There is no shame in ignorance, for it can be cured, so long as one listens."

Illyria nods again, relief trickling into her features.

You have emoted: Esei presses their fingers briefly to Illyria's forehead before removing both their hands from her person.