Pebbles

With footsteps so hushed you almost don't hear her enter, a soft-spoken woman dressed in white
arrives from nowhere at all.

Footbridge above a reflective pond.
The rippling sound of flowing celestial waters echoes distantly from a healing shrine of Lantra
nearby. This location is flooded with shallow, crystal clear water. A wide stone footbridge arches
over this large pond, providing a path from the central square to the structure behind the
southwestern wall, of which nothing is visible save for a few fleeting glimpses of scarlet fabric
caught in the wind. The pleasant banks of the pond are smooth with the exception of the far
southwestern corner, which is home to several medium-sized trees of varying species, including
cherry, maple, and walnut. These trees lord over the pond, providing a peaceful spot to relax and
meditate. The surface of the pond, being the only isolated one of its kind in the gardens, is as
motionless and flat as glass. Those resting on the far bank are provided a serene vista of the
willow tree, central square, and fountain, all which are reflected in the deep azure hues of the
water's surface. Gracefully standing aside here, a soft-spoken woman dressed in white looks about
herself with a thoughtful air.
You see exits leading northeast, east, southwest, and northwest.

A soft-spoken woman in white nods to you with the passing formality of one who recognizes an
acquaintance, taking a moment to step upon the footbridge and watch the pond for awhile.

Sitting off to one side in a cross-legged position beneath the sheltering branches
of the various trees, Avaris's antennae snap upwards in surprised recognition at a soft-spoken woman
in white's appearance. His weight shifts, as if in the beginning of adjusting his posture - To rise,
perhaps, or to kneel - but he settles back down, placing his hands very deliberately upon the broad
curve of his armoured thighs. He returns the nod with a courteous one of his own, allowing the
silence to reign for a time.

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: A careful, careful sense of curiosity, mixed with the simple pleasure of her
presence - And made nervous by it as well, a strangely excited, pleasant anxiety.

The breeze gently tousling the flowers in her braid, a soft-spoken woman in white continues to
serenely watch over her surroundings, content in silence for awhile. Then her celadon gaze flickers
to the willow tree. draping its boughs low into the water to cause faint ripples in the stillness of
the pool, and she says softly, "It is a more pleasant place without the storms. I can see why you
like it so."

Though his natural gaze remains politely averted, so that he does not stare, and
the majority of Avaris's glowing, wing-borne eyes deliberately allow their attention to latch onto
anything that is not a soft-spoken woman in white, one lone, small rebel marking remains doggedly
transfixed by her, bending occasionally as if resisting the kephera's efforts. When he speaks, the
chorus of his voice is oddly hoarse, as he says, "It is indeed." Clearing his throat self-
consciously, he continues, hurriedly, "More pleasant with you here, I think. And dry. You look
more..." There is the brief sense of him casting blankly about for the correct word choice, before
he finishes, somewhat lamely, "Comfortable."

You think to yourself: Acidic self-mockery, a sharp, withering tone. "Oh, well done. Comfortable.
How any woman would swoon to be described as such. Ugh."

Her own gaze still turned away to the pond beyond the footbridge, a soft-spoken woman in white
calmly listens with to your words, leaning on the arched stone railing of the footbridge and visibly
relaxing as she does so. "Like most others, I found many of my burdens lifted with the passing of
the storms," she replies mildly. "And it is kind of you to say so. I had thought I owed this place a
return, to witness it properly." For the slightest moment she turns to you and says, to you
directly, "How fortuitous that you were here again, as well."

Though there is an abundance of tranquil beauty for one to marvel at in this place,
it is a soft-spoken woman in white that draws the entirety of Avaris's attention, the kephera no
more able to resist the subtle pull of a soft-spoken woman in white's serene presence than a
drifting feather can defy gravity. Gradually, more and more of the effulgent constellation of
stylised eyes join the lone rebel in its quiet admiration, until it is solely the paladin's natural
regard that remains politely elsewhere. At being addressed directly, however, even this too wavers,
as the angle of his gaze shifts minutely, so that he can glance at a soft-spoken woman in white from
the periphery of his vision. In a carefully conversational tone, he replies, "Ah. Yes. Most
serendipitous for myself. I am grateful to be blessed with your company, once more."

With a slight, playful hint to his words, you ask, "Have you come to challenge me to another game?"

The challenge causes a soft-spoken woman in white to shake her head with a soft laugh, the notion
one that seems to genuinely amuse her. "My time here is brief, I think. Though perhaps another time
I may indulge myself." She pauses, searching for the correct words, before saying at last, "I am not
one given to breaking my word. You had wished to see me here again, and I had said I would not mind
such. It is perhaps not a promise, but close enough to one that I do not wish to break it." The
night shadows somehow fail to darken the immaculate white of the woman's gown, so radiant is she as
she stands upon the footbridge in the starlight, before she speaks again in a quiet, firm voice. "My
company when we last spoke was... It is not how I am given to be, naturally. I apologize for any
concern I gave you."

The response to his question draws Avaris's head down in a polite nod of
acknowledgement, and he makes no sign of being disappointed by the answer - Indeed, if anything, the
opposite, were one to judge by the subtle glint that manifests fleetingly within the azure of his
eyes. "I would be pleased for you to indulge yourself, and you are free to do so with me, whenever
you like." Lifting a massive, densely plated hand, he passes it aside in a gentle, gleaming arc,
brushing the words away. "You are not beholden to me in any fashion, Lady. I would be most happy to
see you here again, but only if it is what you wish to do, for your own sake. There are no oaths
between us, and I will not hold you to the cousin of a promise, either." At the last, he does not
respond immediately. The broad, sanguine curves of his antennae bend forward slightly as he turns a
soft-spoken woman in white's words over, the lucent regard of his markings brightening in response
to the radiance that a soft-spoken woman in white possesses so naturally. When he speaks, it is in
the manner of one laying down carefully selected words with the utmost deliberation for their
effect, slow and meticulous as one paving a path. "You have nothing to apologise to me for, Lady.
You were not in the fullest of your spirits, and I intruded upon you when you sought solace in quiet
contemplation. It is I who should apologise, not you."

"Then perhaps we should both simply agree neither of us owes the other an apology," a soft-spoken
woman in white says levelly, nodding as she takes in your words with the sincerity for which they
are meant. "And perhaps they are not promises or oaths. Nonethlesss, I wished to return. And so I
have." As the sun rises higher above, its dappled rays of gold seem to bathe her in their brilliance
as she looks at the nearby grove and the tranquil beauty of all within it. "I was glad you spoke
with me that day, in truth," she says, apropos of nothing. "Solace does not always offer
distraction, nor result in peace of mind."

The flow of Avaris's antennae relaxes, shifting back to a more natural, loose
configuration, where they undulate gently as if caught in a languid current. "Then we are agreed. No
fault lies between us." The reply is pleasant in its delivered, spoken with an unusual sort of
relish, as if he savours the notion, much as one would a rare and very fine wine. "And so you have.
I am delighted that you did so. I had hoped to see you, each time I returned here." The aureate
touch of the sun turns the burnished gold of the paladin's carapace to molten gold, the edges of his
crest glinting as he turns his head towards a soft-spoken woman in white, regarding her with some
surprise. "Ah. I am...That is heartening to hear, Lady. I am most pleased, in that case. I am ever
at your beck and call, should you wish for me to be so. I would not see you anything other than
gladdened, and bright of heart."

A soft-spoken woman in white glances at you with a faintly quizzical air, asking airily, "Are you
always so given to assisting women you encounter in some manner of distress?"

Lifting a hand from his leg to gesture at himself in a casual fashion, Avaris
proclaims, "Madame, I am an Archon, and an aspiring knight. It would be remiss of me not to come
gallantly to the aid of damsels in distress, would it not? I feel as if I would be letting the
stereotype down."

Cool amusement flickering in her celadon eyes, a soft-spoken woman in white says, "Ah, a damsel.
That is a misconception I shall have to rectify, I think. For I assure you I am capable of handling
my own affairs." She does not seem displeased at your explanation, however, nor surprised at it
either. "Do try not to overextend yourself, however. The many ills in the world can be exhausting to
take on at once. Should you find too many lost souls in your travels, I hope you will not tire
yourself needlessly bending to the whims of each one."

The sparkling motes of light that surface in Avaris's inhuman eyes have a
distinctly mischievous glint to them as he inclines his head to a soft-spoken woman in white. "I
shall look forward to having my misconception soundly corrected, then." Sobering somewhat, he emits
a soft, shivering sound from within his throat, which sets the ruff that encircles it to trembling.
"That is a hope you are safe in having, Lady. While I would like, very much, to be able to make
right all the ills in the world, I have my priorities. I would never leave myself so exhausted that
I could not fulfil my duty to the One I serve. Her whims shall never go unanswered, so long as I
persist."

"You will have to merely trust me in the meantime, that I mean what I say," a soft-spoken woman in
white replies simply. She leans against the railing, her body gently resting against the marbled
stone, as a pleasant breeze carrying the scent of cherry blossoms wafts pasts, teasing strands of
silver-white hair from their careful plaits and gathering the hem of her white skirts to swirl
playfully at her feet. "I am pleased to hear it. Priorities are essential to preventing one from
being taxed and sapped of all energy. It is noble to know for whom and what principles you would
sacrifice all for, I think."

The glossy white tufts of Avaris's voluminous mane stir energetically at the
playful wind's touch, as its trailing caress rustles the heavy feathers of his many wings in a quiet
susurration of gleaming gold. The colossal figure does not hurry to respond, instead choosing to
appreciate the picturesque view of the graceful woman before him, with the air of one admiring one
of nature's rarer gifts. "Then I will trust you until then, Lady." The nature of his regard alters
subtly at a soft-spoken woman in white's comment, his antennae bending at odd angles, before he
remarks, conversationally, "I could not agree more. I have recently seen such in One that is most
dear to me - Perhaps She could have benefited from your advice, and allowed others to take up more
of Her burdens." Turning his hand palm-up, he amends, "Not that I think Her unwise, of course.
Merely...Worryingly willing to exhaust Herself."

At this change in topic, a soft-spoken woman in white does not change her expression, but merely
raises a single eyebrow. "You speak quite freely of those who are not present," she comments
lightly, though there is no judgment in her words, merely wry observation. "Are you not so
predisposed yourself to such exhaustion, then? Or is this a matter of it being easier to comment on
what is witnessed, rather than what is experienced firsthand."

The clawed fingers of the upraised hand wiggle back and forth as Avaris utters a
melodic, musing note. "I am most guarded in terms of what I speak freely of, worry not." The matter
of his own wellbeing elicits a brief, indifferent lift of a single, pauldroned shoulder, the nature
of his words conveying a similar sentiment. "My own exhaustion is of no consequence. I am not relied
upon, and were I to fall in my efforts, I would not be missed. All would be as it was before."

"Ah," is all that a soft-spoken woman in white says, the answer evoking a faintly amused smile.
"Then you are merely denying others the same flaw you bear yourself. How convenient for you, that
you do not think yourself a worthy beneficiary of that same kindness." She tilts her head skyward,
watching the dawn unfold across the sky, and says, "You nonetheless offer yourself as reliable to
those you find deserving. It would be a shame for you to so harm yourself in the pursuit of caring
for them, only for you to falter due to overextending yourself overly much. Perhaps for their sake,
you might think differently of your own wellbeing."

Again, a thrumming, musical shivering of sound, though the one Avaris makes no is
decidedly non-committal in nature. His hand drifts to the thick fluff that rings his shoulders,
where it selects a gleaming tuft and begins to twist at it in an absent manner. "The ones that I
care for are irreplaceable in every way. The world would be a darker, harsher place without them in
it." A finger lifts from its casual torment of his mane, to flick at his head dismissively. "Were I
to falter, another would simply take my place. There is no shortage of common swords."

Tilting her head thoughtfully, the windswept braid tangled behind her, a soft-spoken woman in white
says, "I do not think soldiers should be viewed in such a crass manner. Each life on the
battlefield, so to speak, is inherently valuable. All swords are irreplaceable to someone. Even the
youngest and lowliest warrior has one who mourns their passing."

The kephera's response is untroubled, free of rancor and doubt in equal measure, as
Avaris says, "I would not be mourned. I do not views soldiers thusly - Indeed, any replacement would
no doubt be an improvement, in my estimation. Still." A slight shrug of polished gold. "I hold the
gap until such time as someone else steps up."

A soft-spoken woman in white wraps her arms around herself, a touch of stubbornness in her
expression as she looks upon you, assessing you for what might be some suggestion of humor that she
has missed, somehow. When no such hint appears, she takes on a stern manner, one that seems
peculiarly as natural to this otherwise gentle woman as witnessing a fish leap in water. "I think
those whom you have pledged yourself to would think differently. Or do you assume all those who
accept what you offer do so frivolously, and without care for the lender's wellbeing?"

The stern nature of a soft-spoken woman in white's regard upon Avaris disturbs him
not at all, for he seems as comfortable beneath such as a stone warmed by the glare of the sun. His
manner remains equanimous, though his visored face drifts to one side of a soft-spoken woman in
white as he replies, "The One to whom I am pledged has many in Her service, and has seen just as
many depart, or falter. It is not a lack of care, or a frivolity of acceptance, Lady. Why would you
mourn losing a common pebble that you have found in your pocket? It is of no consequence, and you
are not diminished by its absence. If you were, for some reason, to miss the feel of one in hand, it
is simply a case of picking up one of similar or more pleasing shape."

You think to yourself: "A smoother one, perhaps. I am more of a sharp fragment of stone, I think.
Not suited to the absent caress as a smoothed pebble."

Without ceremony, a soft-spoken woman in white bends down to reach beneath the footbridge, emerging
with several such pebbles in hand, each possessed of a variety of textures, shapes and colours. "Let
us see, then," she says, striding forth to place one pebble lightly into your palm before you can
react, her fingertips briefly touching your hand in the passing exchange. "Toss it across the pond,"
is her firm, yet quiet command. "See how far it travels."

You think to yourself: The rapid ramping up of his nervousness at her approach spikes into a
tingling sensation at the fleeting touch of her fingers, though it swiftly becomes blindsided by
bafflement. "What..?"

Turning away, her braid whipping behind her, a soft-spoken woman in white gracefully arcs one such
pebble through the air, watching it catch on the pond's otherwise still surface. It skips once, two,
three times then four, finally sinking before it can maintain a fifth. She then turns back to you,
waiting expectantly.

The apparent composure with which Avaris sits, as at ease as one could possibly be
while remaining dignified, as seems his wont, grows swiftly eroded with each step a soft-spoken
woman in white takes towards him. He leans back at a soft-spoken woman in white's advance, antennae
twisting about in nervous, fitful spasms of motion - Only to freeze in sheer confusion at the pebble
placed upon his hand, and the instruction that comes with it. The immense kephera stares down at the
inoffensive stone for a time, before lifting his head - which he jerks back in instinctive avoidance
of the lashing braid. Emitting a brief noise of consternation, he says, stubbornly, "If I throw this
with the fullness of my strength, it will not hit the water." That said, he turns his face
deliberately from a soft-spoken woman in white and snaps his wrist forward at an angle, flicking the
pebble forward in a dull blur.

Watching the stone blur past coolly, a soft-spoken woman in white says, "I thought you liked games."

Exhaling a brief, hissing breath of exasperation, Avaris relents, tone neutral. "I
was not aware this was a game. I apologise."

Taking another pebble -- this time one marbled and smooth -- in her hands, a soft-spoken woman in
white says, "There is an art to this one, I find. Not all pebbles are the same, you see. Some are
better suited to certain sleights of hand than others, while some shapes or weights are simply doomed
to sink upon striking the water. There is nothing that can be done in the latter case." Starry light
glows within the marble as the woman speaks, continuing, "Let us say that you are, as you say,
merely a common pebble. Not all are suited to be wielded in this manner, and some are so fine and
unique in their creation that to simply lose them in a whimsical game as this would be a shame." So
saying, she pockets the shiny marble in her gown, choosing instead to toss a stone that sinks the
moment it hits the waters. "I have not done this game in many years," she says suddenly. "It may not
be a particularly enjoyable one, but it is simple and calming alike, I have found."

The monumental form of the golden kephera remains unmoving for a time as he studies
a soft-spoken woman in white in silence, the stubborn aspect of his demeanour draining away from
him. Avaris's voice is quiet, almost gentle in its intonation as he says, "I am not a special
pebble, Lady. I am content to plunk upon the waters in a graceless splash, so long as the one that
flicks me is made happy by it, however fleetingly." Rising gracefully, he selects a pebble as he
stands, holding the ovoid, somewhat misshapen stone between the points of his forefinger and thumb
as he studies it. Stepping forward so that he is level with a soft-spoken woman in white, yet still
a respectful distance away, his words are measured, but more thoughtful than cautious. "If it is a
game that you are fond of, for whatever reason, then I am happy to play it with you." Eying the pond
with a critical air, he hefts the stone for a moment, before tossing it forward, where it skips but
once, before being swallowed by the depths.

With sincere curiosity, you ask, "What is it that makes you keep one pebble over another?"

Crossing her arms to rest upon the footbridge's stony arch, a soft-spoken woman in white considers
the question as she watches the stone sink into the waters. "Potential beyond mere idleness, I
think," she says at last. "And pellucidity. I prefer my pebbles straightforward, and translucent in
their thoughts and intentions. More likely to arc where they should, you see." There is a lightness
in her voice as she continues, "And of course if it surprises you in some manner. The older one
becomes, the more one values that, I think."

The angle of Avaris's wide, flared jaw shifts gradually as he considers this
response, antennae flowing back and forth in a curious manner. "You are quite the discerning
collector of pebbles, I see." The smile that warms the kephera's voice is reflected in the
spherical, gem-like azure of his eyes, which glitter with benign amusement. "If I find any such
honest, predictable pebbles, that yet manage to surprise, I shall keep them for you." Gesturing at
the pond with a smooth motion of his free hand, he asks, "Are you fair and even with your fondness
of your pebbly collection, or do you have a favourite? One that is as glass, perhaps, with much
potential, that arcs precisely as you would have it, every time - Save once or twice, to surprise
you."

Stepping away from the bridge with a quiet laugh, a soft-spoken woman in white says, "Who is to say
all pebbles I deign worthy of collecting must meet all of my criteria?"

Soft laughter lending yet more melody to his voice, you say, "Ah, so not so discerning a collector
after all. I shall inundate you with a vast array of pebbles that meet only some of your criteria,
then. Unless you would have me find a better gift for our next meeting?"

Looking upon you so that your own amusement is reflected back at you in her faint smile, a soft
-spoken woman in white says, "If you wish to inundate me with such peculiar offerings, I will not
stop you." Then her voice softens with genuine concern and sternness alike as she says, "At any
rate, I would ask you to please be mindful of the harm you take on, lest you leave one of your
unhappy damsels without a protector. Not all are as capable as myself, and you may doom a poor
creature to some terrible fate in your reckless zeal." She turns to look at the sky once more,
frowning slightly, before saying, "We shall see when such a time occurs again. Let us make the same
agreement to promise nothing to one another, then, for I fear my time wanes."

A decidedly pleased note to the chorus of his voices, Avaris says, "Then I shall be
sure to bring to you the very greatest selection of pebbles the world has ever seen." At the open
concern, however, he lifts a large hand in a gently warding gesture, his palm facing a soft-spoken
woman in white. "I have but two unhappy damsels in my life, Lady, and neither require me at all, so
capable are they both. I am surplus to requirements, fear not - I shall not be leaving any creature
to any doom with my reckless zeal." The gaze he turns upon the firmament is perhaps rather more
accusatory than one typically views the unthinking sky with, his voice containing a distinct note of
reluctance as he admits, "I should not strive to keep you, I suppose. Until the next, unpromised
time." Bowing in a courtly, elegant fashion, for all his size, he says, "I shall miss your company.
Thank you for spending time with me, Lady."

Inclining her head politely as she prepares to depart, a soft-spoken woman in white says simply,
"Either way, I ask this small favour of you, should you wish to heed it." Then taking her leave, she
bows formally before saying, "You are welcome. Thank you for humoring me." And with that, she makes
to depart.