Potential: Nocht

For but a fleeting moment, you sense the shadows twist around you.

The pointed tips of your ears twitch to hear an errant sound.

You have emoted: Esei curiously lifts their gaze, skimming over the darkness within the tearoom.

Previously unseen, sitting calmly in one of the tearoom's many hemlock chairs, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Hello, My little one."

You have emoted: Esei dips into a low bow to Nocht, hand over heart. "Hello, my Lord."

The Blossoming Night Tearoom.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. Subtle ravenwood beams, carved with depictions of varied wyrden flora and fauna, support the earthen walls of this shop, almost blending into the dark loam they support. The floor is made of black stone tile, the heptagonal tiles cold and smooth to the touch. A gentle draft is brought from the doorway leading to the tunnels, making the room a fair bit colder than usual. The doorway has been filled with two light sheets of dark silk that serve as a door, occasionally stirred by the draft. Tables and chairs of hemlock and rowan wood are scattered about the room, in ones and pairs and even more for larger parties. Alcoves and shelves are set into the walls, lined with goods that are carefully labeled with prices and contents. A bar is set near the back, behind which the shopkeep works with care and diligence with every movement. A small cabinet with glass doors is set near the bar, full of bookbinding goods. Beyond that, a door is set into the back, leading slightly down from the tearoom. The shop is lit only with flickering candles in alcoves, on tables, and candles on a glass chandelier above the bar. The smell of incense smoke and tea fills the room to a minor extent, only a slight enhancement to the room's atmosphere. There are 2 elegant wyrden lyrebird chairs here. There are 2 polished darkwood chairs here. A sign here suggests you READ SIGN! Nocht, the Silent lingers here, shadows coiling in the air about Him. You see a sign here instructing you that WARES is the command to see what is for sale.
11:48:07.248 You see exits leading northwest and down (closed door).

LOOK NOCHT
More silhouette than Elder, the way the shadows on the ground seem to grasp towards Him make it unmistakable that He is a radiant immortal. Standing a little taller than the height of an average elfen, all other aspects of the Elder's appearance are shrouded in veils and robes. Flashes of brilliant emerald and prismatic light occasionally light up the air around Him, accompanied with a sickly sweet floral scent that lingers in the air.

He is wearing:
a cluster of snapdragons erupting from the shoulder of His cloak
concealing robes painted with the colours of Night that twist in the air around Him as if underwater
a veiled blackthorn crown that obscures His face

Nocht allows a silence to fill the dusky serenity of the tearoom as He contemplates you for several moments, hooded head resting against vine-covered hand. When He finally speaks, the echoing tones of His voice fill the small space, "And how do you fare? How fares My dearest Glomdoring?"

A sense of purpose and pride for the Glomdoring swells within you as a three-finger ring bearing an amethyst scythe pulses against your hand.

You have emoted: As Esei rights themself to clasp their hands behind their back, their gaze catches on the snapdragons sprouting from Nocht's shoulder and lingers before tearing itself away. "I fare well, my Lord," they answer, "As for the Glomdoring, there has been a recent influx of novices, many of them drawn to the Thornwatch. I have also helped plan a festival - one that would venerate, explore, and express Wyrden Supremacy. Thus, I think, we fare well, perhaps better than we have in years prior."

Nocht remains motionless, though the twisting vines of shadow that linger around him continue to coil through the air as He whispers, "Sometimes it is only by inches, but the Wyrd ever spreads, little one. It is pleasing to hear..." The Elder God leans back, vine-covered hand once more concealed within the flowing dark of His robes. "I heard your prayer, My Curious One. A trade... an answer for an answer. What is it you see within Me, little one, with your mortal eyes?"

It is now the 8th of Shanthin, 627 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 27 days until the New Moon.

You have emoted: Esei's gaze shifts to consider Nocht's veiled visage, brow furrowing just slightly. "...I don't know if I could... describe it with any sort of justice. But, in You, my Lord, I see ... a teacher, One Who is much wiser than I am, of Whom I would often seek advice. A... hm... I hesitate to label it as such, as I am only mortal, but I have always felt very... kindred with You," they pause, shifting their stance, gaze darting away, "I always knew it would be You I would serve, ever since I saw You for the first time. Perhaps I could have thrived well in the Lady's Order, or one of the other Lords', but..." They shake their head. "You have always been there, for me, and believed in me when even I did not. Could not. And You have been a guiding figure, for me."

You think to yourself: ** and glimpses? memories? ...sparse stars in a yawning abyss... **.

"Guiding figure..." Nocht whispers, seemingly lost in contemplation for a moment. "Such a quality was attributed to many of My Siblings. Even among My Cousins the stars and their light could be guideposts, after all..." A strange tone creeps into His hollow voice as He whispers, though whether it is amusement or disgust remains unclear. "Not Me, of course. My Siblings were the radiant starlight. I was the void that lingered between Them... Ah, but I ramble and you are owed an answer now, I believe."

Nocht rises from His seat, and the already dim tearoom seems to grow even darker as He approaches you with silent footsteps. He circles you, the flowing fabric of His robes trailing after Him as He whispers, "I see in you, little one, what I have always seen: Potential. In comparison, We are such static things, and as the Wyrd teaches and history has shown, to be unable to adapt is a weakness. But potential is in the nature of all mortals, I suppose..."

You have emoted: Esei nods, then reflexively bows their head, dark wings faintly shivering.

Nocht stops behind you and leans down slightly, His whispered words barely audible, "There is a softness in you, My little one. A curse that has ever touched even the most devoted of Mine... Self-doubt. Love. Sentiment. It can take many forms. You could have run, in your many decades of life, elsewhere. Somewhere that would encourage such things. Into the Light with the wayward sapling. To the Northern Forest... You could go and know contentment... and crush your potential. Yet you haven't. You remain in the Wyrd. You have not abandoned that gift, your potential, for comfort."

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "And this is what I see. A satisfactory answer, I hope?"

Softly, you say, "Yes, my Lord. Thank You."

Nocht nods, much more obvious amusement creeping into His hollow voice, "Family is an interesting concept, no? I will never truly comprehend the ties of blood that can bind mortal families just as you may never understand what is to be born within a cosmic creche... And yet, there is one similarity: We have families of circumstance and families of choice. The latter is much more important, wouldn't you agree, My little one?"

You have emoted: Esei blinks thoughtfully, lifting their head as they offer another silent nod.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Did you have any other questions, My little one?"

You shake your head.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Then, for now, I leave you to your work. Be well, My little one."

The surrounding shadows wane, relaxing into their normal state as the form of Nocht, the Silent dissolves into the aether.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.
You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.