to be full of doubt

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. Partially hidden in the shadows, a formal pamphlet with a seven-pointed star has been lain aside here.
You see a single exit leading through an image of the night sky.

You bow respectfully to the master shrine of Nocht.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

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

The image of the night sky grows terrifyingly dark as an icy breeze cuts across the lonely hill, spiralling patterns dancing across the tall grass.

A sudden icy breeze cuts across the fulcrux carrying a sickly sweet floral fragrance you feel the gaze of Nocht, the Silent settle upon you.

You caress the Fingerblade of dha'Wyrden-cree gently.

You think to yourself: I... simply hope I did not disappoint You.

The surrounding shadows convulse, grasping outwards in joyous anticipation as Nocht, the Silent suddenly materializes from the aether.

You bow respectfully to Nocht.

The boughs of the large blackthorn moan loudly as they shake, sending a new shower of petals cascading across the fulcrum.

Nocht tilts His head, looking down at you, the cracked skin of His face barely visible. "Have you done something you think should disappoint Me, little one?"

Were it not for the way darkness itself trails after Him, it would not be immediately obvious that He is a radiant immortal. His skin is a cracked and sickly gray colour that looks as if it could crumble away at a touch. Long white hair clings to the sides of His face as it spills down His back. All along His form - from the aristocratic contours of His face to the slender, musician's hands - are seeking vines of vibrant emerald which carry a cascade of orange and crimson snapdragon blooms. The growth reaches up the right side of His face, leaving His eyes untouched - a clear, ethereal blue, each pupil rimmed in a golden starburst which makes His silent, thoughtful gaze appear to pierce to the very soul.

He is wearing:
a faded cloak of once-darkest black
a fractured gem suspended from a thin, metal chain
boots of shifting shadow
a frigid, aphotic crystal ring emblazoned with the script of fae.

[Coraline and Sotsepmet interrupt]

Nocht idly dusts off His cloak as He returns His full attention to you. "You remember my original question, I trust?"

You nod solemnly.

You say, "I simply hope I did not disappoint You, by not... placing in, or winning either Seal I went for."

The boughs of the large blackthorn moan loudly as they shake, sending a new shower of petals cascading across the fulcrum.

Nocht raises a vine-wrapped hand to His chin, regarding you with an unreadable expression. "Do you feel disappointment, little one?"

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

You have emoted: Esei pauses, eyes dropping as they consider. "Perhaps... in myself," they attempt, not hesitant but uncertain.

Simply, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Why?"

Slowly, you say, "I expected myself to be better."

Arching an eyebrow, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Do you consider yourself lesser than that strange child?" [referring to Coraline]

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

You shake your head.

Nocht folds His hands at His front, regarding you as He speaks. "I was often overlooked by My Cousins, little one, though I am easily the most skilled of the Awakeners. Yet I still live. My Night still lives. Not just live - thrive. My Cousins who would overlook Me? Long gone. You are a servant to the greatest spirit in Nature and the force that will be the salvation of this world - the wyrd. Better is imprinted on your very spirit by virtue of this, Esei of the Glomdoring."

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "But I have seen how to be mortal is to have limited sight. To be full of doubt. I trust you will master such feelings with time."

Tilting His head, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "If not, the Wyrd would consume you."

ith a wave of His hand, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "But with My restoration after the Ascencion, I will consider the task I originally set you on complete."

You have emoted: Esei takes Nocht's words into consideration, playing with one hem of their sleeve as they think. Then, they give Nocht a firm nod in acknowledgement.

With a slight bow of His head, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Then I shall see you once Kethuru is sealed away once more. I am always watching, My little one..."

The surrounding shadows wane, falling back in despondent melancholy as the form of Nocht, the Silent dissolves into wisps of shadow.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

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