silver and sable

Atop an overgrown ruin.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. The entire landscape is viewable from here; birds flit across the canopy, chirping and cawing to each other in raucous tunes. Four columns rise up from the top of the tower, chipped and worn in places, which support a domed roof. Vines and ivy loop and crawl across the columns, brushing against the dome. The dome itself has been painted with a fresco, depicting an artist's rendition of the Awakening of Mother Night in soft, pastel hues. Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon is here. She wields a rose-vine violin in her left hand and a silver-edged kite shield in her right hand.
You see a single exit leading down.

Elexia lingers at the edge here, violet eyes surveying the whole of the premises.

Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "You've made quite the place for yourself, here."

Lurking in the shadows near a column, you whisper, "You believe so?"

With a dip of her head, Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says to you, "There is undeniable craftsmanship here, and I can see a deep love and devotion went into your work."

You have emoted: Esei cocks their head, dark eyes impenetrable. "How so?"

Rather than meeting your gaze, Elexia continues to stare out at the twisted landscape. She gestures broadly with a hand as she says, "All this, woven by you and your mind, and your hand. So much detail, so vividly rendered. If you had no love for the Wyrd, you would not have spent this time. If you did not truly believe in it, what it is, what it stands for, this would not be. And the Temple. The small touches, the detail. Surely, indeed, this place bears your mark." She is quiet for a moment. "You have created what you have seen, and what you have valued within."

You have emoted: The soft brushes of Esei's bare feet against the stone ground are the only thing that betrays their movement. "What do you think I value, then?" They ask, voice soft, sloe eyes staring at Elexia.

Elexia is quiet once more for a time, her face contemplative, as if she were seriously considering the question. "My interpretation is my own. And, it will be imperfect, perhaps you will find it untrue. Nevertheless-" The faeling turns to face you before continuing. Her eyes are thoughtful, but her face is otherwise impassive. "You truly believe in the beauty of the Wyrd. You find comfort in its shadow, comfort in the dark. You value creation and creativity, for you have left many places for designs to be hung and statues to be placed, as well as, indeed, having a place devoted entirely to your creation. But you also believe in the power of the Wyrd. That if you follow it, trust it, give yourself to it, it will lift you up, but moreover, it is worthy os serving for its own sake." She cants her head lightly. "In the quiet and still places, you believe you have found yourself."

You have emoted: Esei's brow quirks slightly, but they remain silent.

lexia watches your expression, her head still canted. She replies to the absence of reply with a light shrug. "I've much to meditate on this, I expect. After all, I am still learning of myself. So forgive me for being so presumptuous as to think such things." A light smile comes to her lips. "But you asked me my thoughts, and that is what is present."

Dawn seeps across the sky with grasping fingers of rose and tangerine.

With silvery tones, you say, "I see."

Her eyebrows raising, Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "And what do you say you believe?"

With silvery tones, you say, "It is somewhat difficult to put into words."

You glance askance.

A bit of amusement tugging at her expression, Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "That is certainly fair, though it hasn't stopped you from asking me, either."

You have emoted: Esei stands near the edge of the terrace, clasping their hands behind their back. For several moments, there is nothing. Then, they begin to speak. "What I believe... is in the Wyrd. Not merely its beauty, or power. Nor simply its shadows and innate creation. But the Wyrd as its whole."

With silvery tones, you say, "As we all in Glomdoring are wyrden, we are also a part of it."

Elexia tilts her head in the opposite direction, though her eyes become distant for a moment as she looks over the horizon. Her bare feet pad quietly upon the stone floor to stand beside you. "I remember seeing... a hint of this, I believe, at the festival. A devotion I found difficult to understand," she says. "The Wyrd, then, for its own sake? Or the Wyrd, for all of it?" She pauses, as if considering something else. "I would give my life a thousand times over in a thousand lifetimes for the Serenwilde. And yet the way you speak the Wyrd is mystifying." Her face and void are not judgmental, merely curious but confused.

With silvery tones, you say, "It is simple, in truth."

With silvery tones, you say, "A piece of a whole is important, and interesting, but it can be replaced by another. But the whole cannot be replaced."

Tapping their chest with one finger, you say, "I am one piece to a whole that makes up the Wyrd."

With silvery tones, you say, "Yet, if I were to falter and fall, perhaps slip deep into a meditation... I would be replaced."

Elexia knits her brow in a frown as she cants her head, looking up at you. "But you are not replaceable," she says simply. "Perhaps one may fill your stations. Perhaps one may serve your roles. But there will not be another Esei. Not with the same form, the same mind, the same manner and talents. Is there not beauty in the one, too?" She frowns gently. "That is not to say there is not beauty in the whole, of course. For my Wood is glorious, but it is many small, little parts. And yet every flower, on its own, is precious."

Light seeps and pools across the ground, casting short shadows.

You have emoted: Esei lets out a little 'tsk'. "You hear my words, and yet, you do not listen."

Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "You are misunderstood, then, how have I erred in your evaluation?"

Elexia looks up at you curiously.

With silvery tones, you say, "I did not say that the pieces were not beautiful, or not unique."

A look of understanding crossing her features, Elexia nods her head slowly.

Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "I see. The word 'replaceable' bears a certain connotation. A certain lesserness. But perhaps, then, you meant it more in a sense of utility."

The pointed tips of Elexia's ears twitch as she tries to listen closely to you.

You have emoted: Esei's arm close over their chest, gazing out over the forest.

You lazily draw your wings to and fro through the air, fanning them slowly.

Elexia follows your gaze into the woods once more, then simply says, "I thank you for the invitation, and sharing with me as you willed."

With silvery tones, you say, "Mm."

[leaving da manse]