A Salving

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.
You see exits leading northeast, east, southwest, and northwest.

Flickering into existence, a subtle, tentative mote of starlight radiates around you, considering
you for a long moment. "Avaris," a soft, feminine voice says at last, drifting amidst a veil of
misty white. "What think you of the Wisdom of the War of the Circles?"

Flinching subtly at the manifestation, Avaris's posture stiffens minutely, his head
lifting a few degrees higher. His manner is not cool, precisely, but the formality of it is not
warm, either. "Lady." He considers the question for only a moment, before replying, "It reeks of
bias. The portrayal was heavily skewed towards the effort of garnering sympathy for the
Thousandfold, and the Lady of Lagoons."

"All tales are told with such a colored lens," the voice sighs in quiet agreement, the twinkling
radiance inherent in the mist brightening with each word. If your change in demeanor is noticed, it
is not acknowledged. "And I take it such sympathy was not evoked from you?"

You sense the passage of Cheliyi to the northwest with a faceted pair of crystalline ears.

Staring steadfastly forward at, apparently, nothing at all, Avaris clasps his hands
behind the heavy, layered feathers of his wings, the eyes of which studiously remain downcast, or
turned skyward. His antennae, however, turn and lean towards the luminous mists unerringly as he
listens. His response is as flat and direct as the closing of a heavy door. "No."

Atop a peaceful hill.
This location is flooded with shallow, crystal clear water. Muginn, the ghost-feathered magpie
perches here with a mischievous glint in his eye. Starlight shrouds a wanderer in the mist here
within a twinkling mantle of sidereal radiance.
You see exits leading northeast, east, southeast, and west.

A cheery mugwump cookie with raspberry jam hair comes flying in from the northwest and lands on the
ground with a 'thump.'

Avaris makes no move to pick up the cookie, nor does he pay it any overt attention,
save for one glowing eye tracking its arc.

Like a shimmering curtain of star-spun light, the presence of the Goddess lingers in contemplation,
before saying at length, "It is strange to hear mortals speak of times so long past, and a civil war
that threatened much of Our existence on such flimsy and insubstantial grounds. Those of Us who
attempted impartiality were considered on the side of the Firsts, for not seizing the moment to
rebel." There is a sense of a silence being filled as the thoughts are spoken aloud, though there is
the slightest, halting hesitation to them, even as the Empyreal's voice is resonant, clear and calm,
as it ever is.

The stony nature of Avaris's demeanour falters at the subtle undercurrent of
hesitation, betrayed by a number of the lesser markings slipping towards the sidereal presence, the
lines of light that make up their form bending in concern. "I think that that was very unfair - And
veering very close to doing precisely what they were rebelling against." He lapses into silence,
though not an empty one, as he struggles with something for a time, before venturing in a slightly
softer, tentative manner, "The War must have been very difficult for You. I am sorry for that,
Lady."

Soothing winds blow in with a calming sigh, drawing a veil of water and light that reveals a hazy
figure standing alone in the mist.

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "It was trying, yes. Although I do not think it wore upon Me as much as others, from
the healing mounds of Ethereal. The Hamadhi were greater in number in those early years."

You think to yourself: His thoughts are kept carefully subdued, the intensity and precise form of
them obfuscated behind a thick wall of hardened light - Though it thins and wavers at points as the
misty figure manifests.

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. A cookie resembling a cheery mugwump has been callously abandoned here. Hazy mists
obscure this veiled figure from view, her silhouette shrouded in starlight.
You see exits leading northeast, east, southwest, and northwest.

Barely discernible in a haze of mist, this veiled figure possesses a feminine silhouette that is at
once here and not, as if her true being is beyond true comprehension. She moves with the mystical
grace of water; at times, her very existence ripples like the reflection of a gazing pool, while
other moments, she blurs like a mirage dancing in the light. Starlight shrouds her in a white mantle
of sidereal radiance, twinkling to reveal countless constellations that form and reform to robe her
in the full panoramic vista of the stars. Within her hands, a single star lotus radiates a celestial
glow, blossoming in eternal bloom.
A veiled figure shrouded in starlight does not even register your presence as a threat.

The dense, gently lambent plumage of his furled wings rustle quietly as Avaris
shuffles them, as if striving to set them into a more comfortable position, and failing to do so.
"Even the sturdiest steel can grow worn under constant duress." The rays of the sun refract off the
curving blades of his crest as the kephera alters the angle of his head a few degrees, turning it so
that a veiled figure shrouded in starlight is within his peripheral vision. "What were Your thoughts
on the matter of the Circles, Lady? If You wish to share, of course." Faintly strained, he amends,
"I do not wish to pry."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "I believe that Dynara held an Order to all of Her Creation. Zvoltz merely gave name
to that Order. Whether or not We chose to adhere to it in formal terms, the nature of Our being as
Star Gods would ultimately manifest. I saw no reason to spill blood over titles."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "I healed bodies from both sides, tending to soldiers who sought to defend Their
perceived freedom and those who sought to enforce Their perceived structure. However, We cannot
escape who We are, no matter how We choose to label Ourselves."

The gleaming alabaster of Avaris's chin dips down into the thick, lustrous white of
his mane as he nods, unsurprised. "As ever, Your benevolence humbles me, Lady. What would You have
done, if the matter were in Your hands alone to decide? Hypothetically, of course."

The silence that falls is devoid of tension, instead imbued with a significant pause indicative of
careful thought and reasoning as a veiled figure shrouded in starlight considers your query. "It was
a War born from grief," the Goddess says at last. "We speak of it now as if it was a matter of
categories, labels, and leadership, but this is not so. It was a War born from loss, anger,
frustration and fear. Had I had it within My power, I would have healed the first wound that took
place -- the young Elder of Iklara who fell to a fate beyond the Hamadhi's power to undo."

The sanguine flows of Avaris's antennae drift downward in a faint, thoughtful frown
as he considers this. "I had wondered about that. Why is it that the Thousandfold did not simply
seek out You, or the Hamadhi as a whole? Surely They realised that the Hamadhi would be better
equipped, alone or as a group, to heal the fallen One?"

A soothing wind descends, twinkling with gentle light as a veiled figure shrouded in starlight
replies, "It was not a simple matter. Few Elders speak of it, now, for it is... A cruelty that We
choose not to dwell upon. In the Age of Chaos, there were many small, petty wars between creches, or
even between Elders who sought to improve Their skill in battle. Without Dynara, We were at a loss.
What happened to Iklara -- and to Moraevi -- We swore to never allow to occur again. We do not speak
of it, even, lest those words give that action power to reemerge anew."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "But I have never forgotten what Mysrai is capable of. Knowing what I know now, I
am... much relieved I did not heed the Beckoner Beyond the Maze's call for Me to join Them in Their
Rebellion."

There is the quiet rasp of chitinous fingers shifting against one another, muted
beneath the heavy blanketing of Avaris's plumage as he lowers his head in an apologetic manner. "I
am sorry for bringing attention to it, then, Lady. I will not speak of it again." Visored face
impassive, ever unreadable, his voice is equally level, without judgement or, indeed, much emotion
at all. "You do not believe that the vision They presented of Yourself would come to fruition? Or
that there was too steep of a price for its realisation?"

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "The pain is not My own. Nonetheless, it is a history that We Elders take no pride
in." A pause, a consideration. "At least I do not."

You think to yourself: A flickering image of the defiant Lady of the Lagoons, gone as soon as it is
summoned.

Flatly, Avaris replies, "If only all felt as You do."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "I held much regard for the Firsts of the Circles. I trusted much in Their Wisdom,
and was grateful to have Them to lean upon in My work. For the most part, I felt My contributions to
the Hamadhi respected, and My words given great weight. I did not require the mantle of leadership
to believe Myself treated as a peer, so to speak."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "In the vision you speak of, Mysrai told Me to desire more than what I had been
given, I suppose. Perhaps it is an ambition others may have desired."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "But I do not think the Thousandfold understood Me, to speak truly. Or that They
ever have, even now."

The great wedge of Avaris's head, cast in shades of gold-plated marble, tilts at
this, his antennae bending at peculiar angles. "I do not believe They did, for I do not see why
They would offer the qualities of grace, conviction and a careful mind as temptation to You." An
indifferent shrug, the rise and fall of the burnished armour smooth, untroubled. "You possessed such
in abundance, even then."

There is a bright flicker in the aether, reminiscent of a star shooting across an otherwise still
and serene nightscape, as your last statement is spoken: startling, and yet all the enchanting to
look upon for its fleeting brilliance. Then a veiled figure shrouded in starlight looks skyward and
says, "I do believe there are those who thought I desired to be a First, Myself. For all I spoke on
behalf of the Hamadhi, I was not Amberle, nor Carsini, nor Eventru. Though I did not ever desire to
be, in truth. I took pride in all I accomplished, and in the Circle I stood within. The Hamadhi were
few even at Our greatest numbers, and Our healing arts a sacred matter, to Me." She pauses once
more, a misty glow emanating from the star lotus in Her hands. "It gave Me great joy to succeed in
that work."

The unexpected flash of argent catches the attention of the entirety of the
constellation of glowing eyes within Avaris's wings, the brief effulgence reflected in the azure
spheres of his eyes like polished gems catching the distant light of the stars. Even as the fleeting
lambency fades, the glittering motes within his natural eyes remain, glinting with a gentle radiance
that persists as he speaks, a whisper-light note of fondness weaving into the chorus of his voice.
"I do not see why You would wish to be. You have ever been a wonder unto Yourself, Lady - It is
folly, for others to think that You needed the qualities of those Others. It is like looking upon a
bird on the wing, and believing that it desires the power of flight." With a slight, slow shake of
his head, he lowers his attention to the star lotus within a veiled figure shrouded in starlight's
hands, stance easing subtly. "Lady?"

The mists wreathing about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight thin slightly as the Goddess
listens, the starry motes slowing in their languid arcs as if indicative of the level of attention
She is giving your words. "Yes?" the Empyreal asks, the single word echoing with a pulse of gentle
curiosity.

Again, the faint, near-metallic rasp emanates from beneath Avaris's feathers as his
fingers worry at one another in a subdued, fidgeting manner, his head lowering to face the ground as
his antennae slacken into loose, curving lines. He speaks quietly, but with a careful sincerity,
each word measured and halting in its earnest, clear pronunciation. "I am sorry, for...Before. I did
not mean to upset You, or cause offense, or...Send You away." Abruptly, his upper right hand frees
itself from where it hides, rising to gesture at his chest, pointed claws settling atop the curved,
burnished expanse of his chest. "I was trying to remove myself from the situation because I was
making it worse. I did not want to hurt You, so..." He falters, trailing off into silence as he
stares down at the grass, shamed.

The shimmering expanse that lingers about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight seems to evaporate
at your words, the hazy silhouette shifting from something cosmic and distant to tangible form,
revealing the Empyreal Goddess in truth.

Her slight and statuesque figure exuding a sense of restrained dignity, She is a radiant immortal
and possessed of a quiet and unassuming stillness. The Goddess's olive-skinned complexion shines
with the dusky radiance of youth, and yet the ancient burden of duty weighs heavily upon Her
shoulders, carried with a silent and practised grace. Lost to contemplation, She appraises Her
surroundings with a distant air; the grey-tinged gaze of Her celadon blue eyes remains as fathomless
and inscrutable as the hazy mists of a waterfall. Despite the seriousness of Her first impressions,
however, a gentle smile graces Her lips with an almost maternal tenderness. Her every movement is
characterised of an unhurried elegance and poise, reflective of an inner peace as She emanates a
soothing white light.

Shimmering tresses of palest starlight spill down Her shoulders in a curtain of white to end at Her
waist, nary a strand out of place. Motes of silver and celadon blue interweave through Her
immaculate coif, their whispers of colour evoking a breathtaking celestial radiance.
She is wearing:
immaculate vestments of purest white starlight that wreathe Her in a celestial glow
a cascading veil of mist and water lilies that trails at Her feet, shrouding Her face from view
elevated sandals of woven willow leaves that leave lambent motes with each step
a bracelet of woven water and starlight shimmering upon Her wrist
a mist-wreathed star a mist-wreathed star twinkling upon Her glistening veil
a gold damask cope clasped with a radiant star lotus that settles about Her shoulders in a heavy
mantle.


Her own response slow and measured, Lantra, the Empyreal says, "It is not your actions that weigh
upon Me from that encounter, but My own."

The deep red of Avaris's listing antennae bends forward, curving down in apparent
lack of understanding. The resonating tones of his voice grow a shade puzzled as he asks, "Lady? I
do not know what actions would weigh You down so. You did nothing amiss." A pause, in which the
antennae twitch inwards, contorting in sharp angles. "Unless it was..." Failed by his words once
more, he utters a soft, faintly frustrated breath, gesturing to Lantra with a gentle lift of his
fingers. "Stepping out from the mists. I would understand that, since it...I did not act in a way
that would encourage You to feel comfortable doing so."

The thoughts still weighed, considered and assessed even as they are spoken aloud, Lantra, the
Empyreal says to you, "You are ever concerned for My welfare, in all that you say and do. And yet I
fear My response to such concerns may be seen as dismissive, elusive, or unkind, though I do not
mean for them to be. I do not wish for your Devotions unto Me to harm you in any manner. Even in
your trial of Fortitude, I sought to mitigate what peril I could, when able."

The faintest motes of light twinkling upon Her starlit veil, Lantra says in a soft, gentle cadence,
"As I have said before, words are not My gift. Even so, I would not wield them as knives."

Frowning once more, Avaris remains facing the grass at his feet, working through
both the words spoken by Lantra, and those he strives to formulate in response. "I know that You
did, and while I would resent such, I cannot, because I know it was done because You are a most
caring Goddess." His hand lifts from his chest to smooth the curved span of his larger, right side
antenna between the polished chitin of his fingers, the gesture distracted. "I do not wish for my
Devotions, or my words, to harm You, either. I...I know that I cannot do anything to protect You,
or...Preserve Your welfare, or..." The fingers splay, turning in the air as if seeking to brush
against something intangible. "Any of that. You have been very kind in dissuading me from such."

Breath sighing out between the seams of his visor, Avaris allows his hand to drop
to his side. "I am sorry for being cruel to You, Lady. It is the last thing I wanted, yet it seems I
return to it every time I strive for the opposite, with You."

A flicker of uncertainty glimmering across Her misty veil, Lantra, the Empyreal says, "I do not
think you cruel, My Avaris."

Pressing Her hands together, Her figure impassive and poised as She regards Her thoughts in silence,
Lantra says at last, "Your apology is kind, however. And I am honored to receive it, even though I
fear you presume more culpability than is deserved for what... occurred." The last word throws a
stilted note in an otherwise perfectly calm reply, which is brushed aside as the Goddess says, "What
would you offer of yourself to Me, then? What role do you desire?"

Flexing the claws of his lone, revealed hand in slow, curling motions, Avaris
replies, "You are ever given to thinking better of Yours, Lady. You are very generous in Your
thoughts of us. I know that I have been cruel to You, even if You do not see it as such." He lingers
upon the question for a long span of time, the curve of his antennae so severe that they are more
reminiscent of dreadful horns, with their sharp tips twisted upwards. At last, he exhales, as if
releasing a long-held breath. "I have thought upon that more than any other matter. I have come to
the conclusion that it does not matter what I would, or I desire, in this respect. It is not my
place to decide, Lady. That is Your right, and Yours alone."

Moving the glinting points of his hand across his abdomen to touch lightly upon the
ampoule that rests upon his hip, Avaris's reply is soft, almost tired in its delivery. "I just want
to serve You. However I can."

The admission is received with a slight incline of Her head, the misty veil sparkling with the
movement. "And serve Me you shall," Lantra says, a tenderness in Her words. "There is much that can
be determined in an eternity, My Avaris. Have patience."

Accepting Lantra's reply with a slight dip of his head, Avaris's response is even,
lacking in heat or frustration. "Yes, my Lady. I will be patient, for You."

The sparkling white mists that had dissipated into the aether briefly return, but rather than
clinging to the Goddess before you, they shimmer upon you as a sidereal mantle. The immaculate
shroud draws upon you to engulf you in a shimmering embrace reminiscent of angelic wings, folding
about you with a touch as gentle as starlight reflected upon water.

Receding from the mists once more, though Her voice hints at the smile behind Her veil, Lantra, the
Empyreal says, "Then We shall be patient with one another, My Avaris."

A quiet breeze sweeps through the vicinity as Lantra, the Empyreal dissolves in a luminous swirl of
white lotus petals, leaving only twinkling motes of starlight in Her wake.

Chin lifting in a mildly startled reaction, Avaris is swift to still himself at the
sensation - Though it is not the same, wire-taut control that is his typical response to touch, but
rather that of one taking great care not to disturb something fragile, and infinitely precious. He
remains thus even as the mists dissipate, but they leave in their absence a glittering sea of
brilliant motes of light that dance and shine within the kephera's eyes in a smile that persists
long after She is gone.

Brushing his hand across the smooth surface of his ampoule, Avaris exhales,
straightening into a calm, dignified pose that is free of tension.