"...imagine broken branches in the immanidivinus." - Nocht

The lengthening shadows creep forward faster than normal as Nocht, the Silent returns to mortal perception once more.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Hail, my Lord."

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Greetings, My dearest Glomdoring."

(Glomdoring): Ollie says, "Greetings , my Lord."

(Glomdoring): Xenthos says, "Greetings, Lord Nocht."

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.
You see a single exit leading through an image of the night sky.

You drop one knee to the ground, genuflecting in sheer reverence.

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "And congratulations on your recent claim to two villages."

Nocht, the Silent has bestowed His divine truefavour upon the Free Collective of Glomdoring. It will last for 5 months.

(Glomdoring): Ollie says, "Glory be to Glomdoring."

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

(Glomdoring): You say, "Glory be, indeed."

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

A familiar, uneasy feeling overcomes you as the attention of the Silent Lord settles upon the fulcrux.

"Greetings, My little one."

You have emoted: Esei dips their head, folding their hands behind their back. "Hail, my Lord. I hope You have been well?"

Soft whispers speak from the shadowed edges of the fulcrux, "Indeed, little one. I survive, as we all must for the sake of our Wyrd."

You nod solemnly.

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.

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you say, "I am glad." A pause, one hand coming up to run along the golden script on their shroud. "If I may ask... have You heard my prayers regarding Lord Manteekan?"

It is now the 22nd of Dioni, 680 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 32 days until the New Moon.

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

A hollow voice whispers in your left ear, "About His interest in Me, dearest Viravain..." and then the right, "And you?"

You have emoted: Esei dips their head again, their fingers pausing. "Aye, my Lord. I apologize if it is beyond Your interest."

The whispering voice withdraws, dancing once more in the air around you in its usual, hollow cadence, "What do you make of the Nightmare, little one? I am curious."

You have emoted: Eyes flicking up to observe the blackthorn tree, Esei pauses for a moment before speaking. "He is an... interesting individual, that is no doubt. He seems a bit... fickle, at times, but given what has happened to His physical body, perhaps that is to be expected."

You have emoted: Esei's brow furrows thoughtfully.

"Hmm... Are you interested in Him as well? I do not hold it against those who wish to explore Others so long as their loyalty to the Wyrd remains unchanged."

Firmly, you say, "Of course, my Lord, as all of the Wyrden Pantheon interests me. But not enough curiosity to make me leave Your side. There is Your Refinement and healing to attend to, as well, and I fully intend to complete this task You have set before me."

Though the hollow tone of the whisper remains unchanged, a sense of satisfaction lingers in the air as it whispers, "I see... Another Awakener in the forest once more may be useful. I will approach Him and see how We may help each other."

You have emoted: Esei tilts their head curiously. "In what way do You expect, my Lord?"

"Between the Elixir, the Wyrd, and His initial imprisonment - I suspect He will have some insight upon... significant alterations to the soul."

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

You have emoted: Esei reaches out, catching a few falling blackthorn petals on their palm. They are silent for a long moment, thoughts stirring and falling but none coming to the surface. "Might this be related to the myglae?"

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

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

Soft whispers filter down from within the branches of the blackthorn, "Indeed, My little one. Between the myglae and Maylea's... gift, My own spirit has changed. I am certain the wyrd is the answer for ensuring these changes are both sustainable and beneficial."

Quietly, you ask, "She changed Your spirit?"

You think to yourself: ** but a memory resurfaces -- "TELL? HEAL? SAVE?" **.

The whispers dissolve into a gentle murmur amongst the blackthorn petals, a momentary pause for thought before resuming, "When I hid the little ones away, I took them into Myself. Maylea's interference has disrupted the balance we had maintained. Perhaps... imagine broken branches in the immanidivinus. It is no longer sustainable as is."

You have emoted: Esei's eyes narrow, a flash of anger crossing their face. "I... see." Their left hand goes white-knuckled as they adjust their grip on a dagger of seething shadow. "It makes sense, then, what She said, when we killed Shashi... That they would consume You from within, or something similar."

Quietly, you say, "And... such confirms my hypothesis. That Her so-called gift was designed to disrupt Your balance with them."

"The Bloom of Serenity's knowledge of spirit rivals many healers and Awakeners. Either I would eventually succumb or I would smother the children She abhors to save Myself. If only She would fully embrace such cruelty, there may have been hope for Her..."

You have emoted: Esei's wings flutter as they turn, pacing. "And to think Hers believe this is justified..." Their wings snap shut as they circle around the master shrine, coming to stop beneath the blackthorn tree. They pause, exhaling sharply. "I am glad You did not elect to kill them, my Lord."

You think to yourself: ** sharp anger burning like fire in their head, disgust roiling in their stomach. they knew it was killing Him. but. calm. they must be calm. **.

Even softer, the whispers murmur, "Ah, but what father would end His children solely for personal gain? If it were truly a binary choice, the answer is simple, but I can and will have both."

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

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you ask, "Both, my Lord?"

"My children will live and so will I. Not just meager survival, but strength in the Wyrd and in Glomdoring."

You nod solemnly.

Lilting in a dark, ethereal voice, you say, "And... speaking of the myglae. There was one, when I was practically still a novice, which showed me a vision of You meeting Her, in that field of flowers." They reach out, placing a hand on the trunk of the blackthorn tree. "You captured them, as the vision had distracted them. I was wondering if You had culled them."

There is no answer but silence for a long period of time, but for the soft whisper answers simply, "I did not."

Curiously, you ask, "Why?"

"Individuals are easy enough to... hold in place until I decide what I wish to do with them long term."

You nod solemnly.

"I must tend to other matters for now. Be well, My little one. We shall speak again."

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