Musings: Nocht

[immediately after Cheliyi's log! read it here!! https://pastebin.com/tvikYmX3]

You find yourself engulfed in a swirl of scintillating lights, drawn to your Patron's Master Shrine.
The Fulcrux of Nocht.
The image of a beautiful nighttime sky has been stretched across the fulcrux. Dim stars struggle futilely to compete with the terrifying beauty of Mother Night. The ethereal image wavers on occasion, the sky rippling like water in a pond. A lonely hill covered in tall grass leads up to a single shrine. Behind the shrine stands a large blackthorn tree. The tree is taller than most of its kind, extending upwards rather than outwards. Delicate blossoms shower down from its branches, creating a flurry of white petals and filling the air with the pungent scent of wyrden foliage. A complex series of stones orbit around a stygian orb here. A rippling image of a beautiful night sky has been magically wrapped around the fulcrux here. Reverently laid before the shrine in a sheath of starlight and shadow, the Sidereal Mantle of Ailustris emanates Divine power here.
13:26:51.368 You see a single exit leading through an image of the night sky.

You drop one knee to the ground, genuflecting in sheer reverence.
You drop a black marble barghest bottle.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

The branches of the blackthorn tremble as a voice whispers, "Hello, My little one. You just missed the wayward sapling..."

You have emoted: Esei bows their head, dark hair sliding over their shoulders. "I did not wish to interrupt the two of you, my Lord."

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you say, "Nor any lessons You may have had for her."

P MANTLE
[...]
You feel compelled to TOUCH the Sidereal Mantle of Ailustris.

You reach out and touch the Sidereal Mantle of Ailustris.
In your mind's eye you see the silhouette of an imposing divine, the glimpses of His features you can see similar, yet notably different, from those of the Silent Lord.

The voice fills the fulcrux with its soft, empty tone, "Ah, but she is a stubborn sapling that resists any lesson I could offer. You, however, are always learning, little one. How do you fare? What brings you here?"

 You have emoted: Esei considers the Mantle for a long moment, lifting their eyes to the shrine. "I am well, my Lord," they say, "I had some questions, musings, perhaps. Some of which I have already spoken here, but I can easily go over them again should You wish."

It is now the 7th of Roarkian, 675 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 3 days until the New Moon.

"My attention may be drawn elsewhere for a time, but I would hear your musings."

You have emoted: Esei nods, adjusting their position so they may kneel on both knees in front of the Mantle. Their hands hover over it, not quite touching - reverential, more than anything. "How was the Mantle created, if You know?" They pause, ears lowering slightly. "And... Did He- did Zarhalt witness You Awaken Night?"

You have emoted: Esei's wings flutter, the only betrayal of their thoughts. "And why these memories from the Mantle? Why not others? There are sure to be thousands of years' worth..." They shake their head. "Perhaps it is no matter. With so many..."

You think to yourself: ** unending curiosity, ebbing and flowing like shadow itself. so. many. questions. **.

A wind disturbs the mantle briefly, the fabric fluttering as the hollow voice whispers, "Yes, He was there, for most if not all of it as I recall... You can lose yourself and sense of what is around you in an Awakening. As for the memories... memory is a strange thing. I can see it heavy with millennia of them. Perhaps more will surface in time."

You have emoted: More to themself than anything else, Esei murmurs, "And the seven-pointed star, here." A hand hovers over the brooch on the mantle, then migrates to the one pinning their shroud in place. "And here." Their ears perk at the voice, though their eyes remains trained now on the Mantle. "You mentioned to me of Awakenings, before, and... showed me a glimpse, once, when I was still yet a novice. Though I know not if it was entirely intentional."

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you whisper, "You were not... entirely lucid. At the time."

The Drums of the Dead begin to thump, their pounding and erratic beats raising a black mist that hangs eerily over the Glomdoring Forest.

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

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you murmur, "And the Circles... but He was a First?"

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

"Hm... That is what Others decided to declare Him, yes."

Curiously, you whisper, "Why?"

A faint chill creeps into the voice as it whispers, "Hmm... I never understood the need of the Architects of the circles to categorize Us so neatly. He was adored by each of Us, and often spoke for Our creche. To the Architects, that made Him a First."

"To Me, He was always Zarhalt."

You nod solemnly.

You have emoted: Esei takes several moments to speak next, and when they do, their voice is quiet, not quite shy. "Will You speak more of Him, my Lord? What was He like?"

You think to yourself: ** their mind, stuttering through memories borne by the myglae- Zarhalt, alive- Zarhalt, dead-- **.

Murmurs bubble up from the ground, joining the hollow voice as it whispers, "Zarhalt was Our, was My..." And then all falls silent, several empty moments pass before the whispering voice speaks again. "My apologies, My little one. My attention is needed elsewhere for the moment. It will have to be another time."

The image above wavers and ripples gently as a cold breeze howls through the fulcrux.

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you whisper, "Of course, my Lord. Be well."