"Why did you decide you were unfit to serve?"

Soft voices drift across the nighttime skies, whispering of the return of Nocht, the Silent to mortal perception.

You blink.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Greetings, Lord Nocht."

You think to yourself: **a deep, painful ache**.

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Hmm. Greetings, little ones."
(Glomdoring): Dianarn says, "Hiya."
(Glomdoring): Tylwyth says, "Greetings My lord!"
(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "How does the Glomdoring fare this evening?"
(Glomdoring): Violyte (from the Ethereal Plane) says, "Personally I am strengthening myself to better serve the Glomdoring and You, my Lord."
(Glomdoring): You say, "It fares well. We have new peoples who have arrived, and plenty of designs that have been approved. I believe we also fed Lady Viravain's children a month or so ago."

An uncomfortable chill overwhelms you as you feel the gaze of the Silent Lord fall fully upon you.

You have emoted: Cheliyi blinks, and shrinks in place.

You think to yourself: **a deep, painful ache in your chest, like a throbbing burn**.

Quietly, you say, "Hello, Lord Nocht."

A soft, empty voice whispers in your thoughts, "Hello there, little one..."

Softly, you say, "I hope Your meditations and projects continue to go well. Not that my hope matters, in the end."

You think to yourself: **bittersweet, you still love Him, but He did so much that you can't understand, it hurts, doesn't it?**.

The voice twists slowly through your thoughts, "Your prayer, little one, was quite vague on certain points."

Leaning back and forth uncertainly, you say, "I tend to ramble, yes. Apologies, Lord Nocht."

"Why did you decide you were unfit to serve?"

You think to yourself: **your eyes burn with unshed tears, do not cry, do not cry**.

Swallowing thickly, you say, "I... do not want to be hungry like that. Or refine myself to be crueler. Smarter. It is selfish of me, and weak, and not worthy of You."

Quieter, you say, "I also plan to leave Glomdoring, and I know that means I will no longer be Wyrden. Which means I cannot follow You, no."

You think to yourself: **a sudden surge of hurt, and He hurt Dad, so much, they were -trembling- when they spoke-**.

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

The air around you seems to grow colder, as the voice whispers in your thoughts, tone unfeeling, "Hungry? Hmm... And you think I am cruel? How am I cruel, little one?"

He hurt himself. The thought springs into your mind sharp and forcefully, like a slap.

You have emoted: Cheliyi flinches, cringing from the force of the thought.

You think to yourself: **the invading thought like a bucket of cold water dumped over your head, it hurts, it hurts**.

You have emoted: Cheliyi's hands shake, but whether is it from anger or fear is unclear. "I would not know, well enough. But I know that cruelty is the way of home as a tool, and it is one that I do not want to use. You are You, and all I can do is perceive. And what I perceive is my Dad hurting and terrified of You, because of Your lessons," she says, staring past the manor ghost.

Tridemon Regalis, Keeper of Pure Waters has entered the realm of Lusternia.

Cerach tells you, "Hello, I would like to bind to a totem, where could we use one?"

You have emoted: Cheliyi's frills twitch.

Harmony echoes in your mind as you sing to Initiate to the Tah'vrai, Cerach Vessandril, "**clear distraction** Ah... I would ask someone like Mister Tylwyth or Miss Evette. They are more experience, and would know better."

The cold air suddenly surges, whipping past you like a prolonged sigh. When the voice whispers again it is not in your thoughts, but right next to you, in your ear. It's tone is soft, but tinged ever so slightly with emotion. Sadness? Pity? Disgust? It is hard to place - "Whatever love you may have for them, My little one, Gurashi's perception is quite limited. I do wonder if they lead you down the same foolish path they've taken... It is cruelty to pretend, Cheliyi, that our world is not a savage one. It would be unkind to not prepare those of the Wyrd for it. But...." The voice falls silent for several moments as if pondering. "You still serve the Wyrd. So long as you do not betray it, then I shall not dictate the manner in which you do. Perhaps with more growth you will understand."
The Portal of Fate flashes as Kalxera steps through, now ready to begin a fresh life in Lusternia.

Quiet, yet fierce, you say, "Even as I am weak, I would never betray my siblings."

The voice flatly whispers, "Many have told Me that, little one. And many have lied. We shall see..."
You briefly feel icy fingers on the back of your neck, "One things I cannot tolerate is a mortal who lies to Me. So I hope you will keep this promise, little one."

You have emoted: Cheliyi's expression crumples, but she purses her lips and seems to steel herself. "I do not lie. And I keep my promises, yes. I would never raise my hand against my siblings, and so I never will."

As if satisfied with your answer, the overwhelming gloom that has been enveloping you relents as warmth returns to the air.

You think to yourself: **the ache hollows, as if you've been carved out with a knife. it hurts so much.**.

You have emoted: Cheliyi hiccups, and quickly scrubs at her face.

You think to yourself: **your siblings whisper and waver at the edges of your hearing, disappointed. but at least you are honest.**.

You sigh quietly, frills drooping as your tail sags.

Quietly, you say, "Be well, Lord Nocht."

A pointed silence is the only reply.

You have emoted: Cheliyi moves to leave, only to pause. Quieter, she adds, "And... not that I can tell You to do anything, but please be nicely to Si... Mixter Esei. They deserve much better than what I have given them."
With a flourish of your arm, you bow deeply.

(Trasto): You say, "Ugh i hate normal bow emote."
(Trasto): You say, "Why does it have to be fancy bow."

You have emoted: Cheliyi waits in the silence, nods to herself, and returns to her task.