The World is a Mirror

You have emoted: Dipping away from where Elexia had stood, Lief turns her warm smile onto Naevari. "Thank you for practicing," she says. "I think you can tell, but this play is something I'm passionate about seeing come to fruition."

Naevari turns back slowly to face you. For a moment, he just watches you quietly, a faint, uncertain smile on his lips, but then, at length, he offers, "Of course, Lief. Seeing you passionate about it, it..." He stalls here, then shifts his shoulders in what barely passes for a shrug and stumbles on with, "...it makes me want to help. I mean, really, truly..." His gaze drops to the ground, and with poorly feigned nonchalance, he concludes, "It's nothing."

You have emoted: Increasingly more common upon her features, Lief offers Naevari a quizzical look. This time, it's tainted by a little furrow of her brow, concern tugging at her features. "I know you're a perfectionist," she says at length, her words gentle with her assumptions, "but part of learning, I think, is allowing yourself to make mistakes. You don't need to worry about being perfect around me just because I'm your mentor in the Wilde."

(House Myeras): You say, "He's gotten all nervous and tense again with your absence, sister. I'm trying to reassure him that he doesn't need to be so concerned with being perfect around his mentor!"

(House Myeras): Elexia says, "Is that so, dear sister? I know you will lead him through it."

His shoulders tensing, Naevari jerks his gaze upward again to meet your own. "Oh, well," he stumbles, "It's not that. I mean, not really. I mean, *of course* I want you to think well of me, but..." He stalls here for a moment, biting down on his lower lip, and stares into your eyes of cloud grey with what might appear a frightened expression in his own. At length, though, he does manage another shrug, and he finishes more softly, "Well, you *are* my mentor, though, after all, and that *does* matter to me. Of course it does."

The slightest wisps of translucent cloud disturb the clear skies overhead.

You have emoted: Lief is quiet throughout, her hands coming together to meet in her lap as she hovers about eye-height with Naevari. She uses her height to her advantage, watching him, her only sound the occasional chime of silver chain links strung through her antlers, or the quiet hum of her dragonfly wings. Naevari's conclusion doesn't seem to satisfy the faeling, though, and again, she frowns a little. "Do I trouble you?" she asks, anxiety lacing her words just faintly. "I don't want to be a bother. I don't want to push you further than you're willing to go."

A beam of moonlight comes down from the sky and bathes you in light.

A fuzzy penguin waddles in from the ether.

Poking her head around the scrim, Faythe says, "Is practice over yet?"

*That* causes Naevari to blink. For a moment, that's *all* it causes, but within seconds, his eyes widen, and then he brings his hands up, palms open and fingers splayed, in a gesture of protest. "Of course not, Lief," he begins, but then he hears Faythe's voice, and he glances back over his shoulder and falls silent.

Faythe blinks, her features shifting to uncertainty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation." She turns and ducks back out from the backstage area.

Gaze settling once more cautiously on that of you, Naevari takes first one step toward the faeling, then another, so that now no more than a metre separates them. "You *don't* trouble me," he insists in a soft but somewhat breathless voice. "You could never trouble me. You're... you're the best mentor I could dream of, truly. And... and..." Again his words fail him here, just for a moment, but then he finishes with, "Really, you're no bother at all. You do nothing that doesn't brighten up my world and make it better. I swear it."

A soft breeze and a slight sparkle disturbs the air in the area.

You have emoted: Lief's brow furrows deeper in the pause, but with some visible force of will, she holds her peace, breaking her gaze from Naevari briefly to glance at the sound of Faythe's shuffling and her voice and, then, her departing frame. She hesitates, then, biting lightly on the inside of her lip with new concern before shifting her attention back to Naevari. Tugging at a lock of her hair, she listens, still save for the inevitable bobbing she does in the wind. She smiles, then, and lowers her fingers from herself. "You don't need to flatter me," she says with a little laugh, regaining her mood. "Though...oh, I *am* glad to hear that, Naevari."

While not all of the tension drains from Naevari's frame with your admission, his shoulders *do* relax visibly. A smile seeps back onto his face, faint and nervous though it is, and he shakes his head slowly just before he allows it to dip again, so that once more his eyes angle toward the ground. "It's no mere flattery," he says softly, and he sounds sincere. "It's the truth."

You have emoted: It takes a moment for those words to sink in, but they do. Lief doesn't laugh again, but she does deepen her warm smile. "Thank you, then, Naevari," she says quietly. Her antlered head lowers in a sort of half-bow, silver chains clinking lightly with the movement. "From someone as earnest and dedicated as you, I will take that as an honour, not as flattery."

Lifting her head once more, gaze settling on the elfen, you ask, "I hope this isn't too sudden a question, but how is your research coming along?"


As you speaks, Naevari begins, slowly, to lift his gaze up from the ground, until with your question, it jerks up the faster, so that once more his yellow eyes meet your cloud grey ones. "Oh, that, well..." His smile broadens slightly, the tension seeming to seep out of his muscles as it does so, to be replaced with a sheepishness that culminates in another sloppily executed shrug. "It isn't, really. Not yet. I've been spending most of my time in solitude, practicing my kata and designing forms."

You have emoted: Lief claps her hands together earnestly. "You design your forms?" she asks, curiosity piqued. For her, at least, it's as though the earlier worries had never happened, never been expressed. "Do you draw, then?"

Naevari shakes his head quickly. "I just..." His smile fades, to be replaced by that characteristic scrunching-inward of his eyebrows, and he says, "...just practice them, really. Perform the kata in sequence and imagine how I might have to be fighting."

Voice brightening, Naevari says, "Not that they couldn't be drawn, of course, by other monks."

Faythe tells you, "Lief?"

You have emoted: "Tell me more," Lief urges, bobbing a bit in mid-air with the request. "You imagine you're fighting someone, even if nobody's there?"

You tell Faythe, "Faythe! I heard your voice. I thought you might be upset. Is everything okay?"

Faythe tells you, "Upset? No, I'm not upset. Naevari sounded like he was upset, so I didn't want to intrude. Are you still having a private conversation with him?"

You tell Faythe, "Oh, I don't know if anything is private out here in the Wilde, is it? He's telling me about how he practices forms now."

Faythe tells you, "So will I be interrupting if I come visit with you again?"

You have emoted: Brightening, Lief holds up one hand for the briefest of moments. "I think Faythe is curious as well."

You tell Faythe, "Come here! I told him you'd like to hear about this too."

A beam of moonlight comes down from the sky and bathes you in light.

You have emoted: Lief flashes Faythe a quick, fond smile before returning her attention to Naevari, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Well, sometimes..." Naevari admits uncertainly, bringing a hand up to knead at the nape of his neck and ducking his head a bit again - although this time, not nearly so much as before. "I mean... I'm designing them for actual combat, so I need to be able to imagine scenarios, when I might use them, so that can save my life and those of other Seren, hopefully."

As the moonbeam dissipates Faythe quietly pads over to stand near you, pushing her hands into her pockets.

Naevari bobs his head in greeting to Faythe, favoring her with a faint smile. "Hello, Faythe," he offers brightly. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Faythe blinks and shakes her head at Naevari, offering him a small smile. "You don't have to apologize. I just didn't want to interrupt your conversation, so I left."

Faythe says to you, "On an unrelated note, can you induct me into the Sowers?"

"That's kind of you," Naevari says, his own faint smile broadening slightly. "Truly."

Faythe waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, not at all."

You have emoted: Lief nods her head slowly, her thoughts writing themselves across her brow as she works through Naevari's words. "When I think about fighting," she muses aloud, though to herself, "I sink my feet into the soil. I feel the earth and let the woods speak to me." A tilt of her head precedes her next confession, this one apparently directed outward. "I'm trying, but I don't think I understand."

A beam of moonlight comes down from the sky and bathes Faythe in light.

Feyr flashes Faythe a joyous smile.

Faythe scratches her head in confusion.

Faythe says to Feyr, "As of this moment, yes. I don't anticipate wandering anytime soon."

Faythe says to you, "Nevermind."

Showing that you understand, you nod your head slowly towards Faythe.

"Well," Naevari admits, his eyebrows scrunching inward as he turns his gaze back to you. "I suppose... I suppose I can't truly understand that, either. Nature magic, I mean."

Lightly as she sways from side to side, you say to Naevari, "It's one of the few times I like to touch my feet to the ground."

You have emoted: Lief pauses, her antlered head tilting again. "Maybe if you showed me what you mean," she muses, "I might better understand." She startles, and immediately adds, with a laugh, "That is, if you're ever willing!"

Lisae Feyr Yfae'dren, the Vates Arboreal smiles and says, "We all stumble, I'm glad you found your path again."

(Sowers): Feyr says, "Welcome back, Faythe."

(Sowers): You say, "Welcome back!"

(Sowers): Elexia says, "Welcome, Faythe!!"

Motes of emerald light rise from the grasses underfoot, drifting lazily in the air.

Elexia tells you, "Faythe has become a Sower again! I never knew she had left us!"

Faythe quirks a brow at that, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. "It wasn't so much of a stumble as it was exploring another path. But thank you, all the same." She smiles slightly at Feyr, pushing her hands back into her pockets.

Naevari turns the stem of meadowsweet carefully between the fingers of his two hands, gazing down at it thoughtfully. "Thank you, Faythe," he offers after a moment, lifting his gaze to find the human's. "They're quite beautiful."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "I first met her when she was a Sower! I was so excited to be in the same guild as her, actually - and then she left mere months before I joined."

Feyr gently reaches over and takes both of Faythe's hands in his own.

Lisae Feyr Yfae'dren, the Vates Arboreal says, "Welcome back."

Feyr holds the Flame of dae'Seren aloft and an emerald light shines forth, revealing a hazy hallway of ancient trees. As Feyr walks through the hallway, the trees close around him and disappear.


Faythe blinks, her hands extended in mid-air from where Feyr had tugged her hands out of her pockets. She blinks again, and then pushes her hands back into her pockets. She glances over at Naevari with a smile and a shrug.

Gaze flitting back to find the faeling's, Naevari bobs his head in a quick nod. "Of course I would," he offers brightly. "Be willing to show you, I mean. It's all different choreographed movements I sequence together," he explains softly, still turning the flowered stem idly between his fingers, "Although of course in actual combat, I imagine things can get quite a bit messier."

Faythe tugs her right hand out of her pocket, uncurling her fingers slightly. Something glimmers in her palm, though you cannot make out what it is, obscured by her fingers. She studies the object absently.

The light movement of air continues to pick up, becoming a gentle breeze.

Naevari turns and cocks his head, regarding the glimmering something in Faythe's hand with silent curiosity.

You have emoted: With Naevari's agreement, Lief absently glances toward the curtains draping the stage, still set up as kudzu from the earlier practice. "There's so little on our stage about our monks and their ways..." She trails off, tapping a finger to her cheek in thought.

Faythe rolls the object in her palm for a moment, not seeming to notice Naevari's gaze. She closes her fingers over the object again, pushing her hand back into her pocket once more.

Faythe tilts her head back and looks up at the sky.

Faythe glances over at you and Naevari.

"Still, that one recording you showed me was quite insightful," Naevari says as he turns back to face you once more. "Although..." Eyebrows knitting together, he pauses here, his fingers finally freezing around the stem of meadowsweet he holds in his hands. "I suppose it *did* still leave me with a lot of questions. That's why I want to write my book."

You have emoted: Lief flashes Naevari a warm smile, then tilts her antlered head to consider Faythe, drawing herself out of whatever inspirational reverie had claimed her. "I could mark a few tasks completed for you," she offers. "Things I know you know, things I know you've done."

Faythe blinks at you, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh. If you'd like. I'm not that concerned about it." She smiles slightly at her friend. She pulls her hand out of her pocket, shaking her closed fist at you. "Do you want this or not?" she demands suddenly.

You have emoted: Lief's chin dips down, her eyes lighting on Faythe's closed fist. "What is it?" she asks, grinning, wings circling her around to face Faythe's front.

Faythe's eyes shift to a brighter green, glinting with mischief. "Oooooh, just a little something," she teases you. "Are you suuuure you want to know what it is?"

You have emoted: Lief claps her hands together, wings thrumming with anticipation. "Of course!" she urges Faythe.

Faythe nods her head with mock-solemnity. "Well," she remarks. "If you're sure then." She holds her fist with the palm facing upward, and slooooowly begins to uncurl her fingers in front of you.

You have emoted: Her eyes twinkling with the game, Lief holds out both her own hands, cupped somewhere between greed and supplication.

Millien tells you, "Things been ok?"

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "Oh, they've been really wonderful! We practiced the first scene of the play earlier. Sometime, when we can get all four of us together, I'd really like to run through the entire thing to see what we all need to work on for ourselves!"

Millien tells you, "Ah, yeah I..I saw you had me doing two parts.."

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "I hope that's okay! If you only want one, I could try to find a fifth person."

Naevari just stands back, a little smile twitching on his lips, his gaze flitting between the two friends as they jest back and forth.

Still moving with agonizing slowness, Faythe tips her enclosed fist over your cupped fingers. As her fingers begin to part, something rattles in her grip. Gradually, a gemstone bead drops into your hands... and then a second... and finally a third, the beads clinking together softly. They wobble a bit before coming to a standstill in your grasp, and closer inspection reveals that they are three separate materials, made of beryl, jade, and onyx, respectively.

Millien tells you, "Well, I wanna do good an' all.."

You have emoted: Lief's eyes widen as she gazes down at the three stones, all of her joking fading. "They're beautiful," she murmurs at length, shifting her palms to catch the light within them at just the right angles.

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "I think you would do wonderfully well in both these roles, Millien. I really do!"

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "Besides, if it comforts you at all, I tried to give everyone something they might not be used to. I put Naevari in the spotlight, I made Elexia smaller, and you and I play men at parts!"

Faythe lifts a hand, index finger gently prodding each bead in turn. "This is for prestige," she murmurs, pointing to the beryl. "And this for demigoddess..." She points to the jade. "And finally, Guardian of the Serenwilde," she finishes, poking the onyx bead.

Millien tells you, "I'll do my best."

With a quiet smile at her friend, Rootweir Faythe says, "Three triumphs of Lief, three more beads for your collection of triumphs."

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "I...know that sometimes they make you nervous, but...I was thinking that maybe it would be good to explore the role yourself. That walking in another's shoes might help you some."

Millien tells you, "What d'you mean?"

Naevari sidesteps and cocks his head in order to catch a better glimpse, but he says nothing and at first, just keeps smiling. But the smile on his lips falters with the mention of the word 'demigoddess,' and he steals a quick, troubled glance over at you a moment later.

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "You'd mentioned to me, once, that being around men sometimes made you nervous! When I played a game with others in the Basin, including some of the Gods, I was cast as an assassin...and I played on the very same team as Lady Maylea and the Goddess Drocilla, too."

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "It took me a while, but I think I learned to be braver in the face of situations and people ten times my size."

Naevari bobs his head in agreement. In a soft voice, he says, "Yes. You've done so well, Lief - especially in such a short time. And now you're a demigoddess..."

Millien tells you, "Ah..That..I...I dunno.."

You have emoted: Lief follows each bead as they're named, admiring each in turn. "I'd wondered if they each had a meaning," she says after a moment, lifting her gaze again. First she settles on Faythe, and she reaffirms her gratefulness. "Thank you. They're *beautiful*." She turns, tilting her head at Naevari's comment, and once more, a shadow of puzzlement touches her features. This time, she brushes it away much faster, and instead, she beams. "It's so...I can't explain it," she says to him. "Being aware of this...this flame burning inside of you. Feeling it grow more and more powerful. Giving yourself, literally, to perform incredible feats."

You look thoughtful and say, "Being a demigoddess is...strange."

Rootweir Faythe remarks, "I'm running out of new beads to give you, Lief. You'll have to slow down on the accomplishments."

The corners of Faythe's mouth turn up as she grins mischievously.

Faythe tucks her hands back into her pockets.

Naevari hastens to cover up his earlier expression with a smile. There's a straining, though, of the muscles in his face with it, even if it doesn't appear totally insincere. "Yes, I imagine it must be. Strange, I mean, to feel your spark grow so."

Rootweir Faythe sighs, "How ever shall I catch up?"

Naevari glances aside at Faythe, and some of the tension seems to seem out of his expression. "How will any of us?" he asks softly, an easy fondness bleeding into his tone. "I wonder whether anyone in the Wilde has gathered accomplishments so quickly before."

You have emoted: Lief's eyes twinkle at Faythe's comment. The beads roll into the cradle of one palm, the other hand lifting to touch the beads at her throat. "You'll run out, or this length of leather will," she says. "I treasure each of these."

You have emoted: Though, to Naevari's praise, Lief cants her head. "I don't think I've done anything extraordinary," she protests. "We each grow at our own pace, I think."

Faythe tilts her head at Naevari, and then removes a hand from her pocket to point at the necklace around your throat. "Simply count the beads on the leather cord - those number her accomplishments." She glances over at you, continuing, "Or at least, some of the more major ones." She leans over and pecks her friend on the cheek fondly. "I'm glad you still enjoy them, Lief."

Faythe gives you a peck on the cheek.

Naevari bites down on his lower lip as he returns his gaze to the faeling, settling it this time on the leather cord around your throat. At length, though, he answers your earlier question with a quiet, distracted, "Yes, I suppose you must be right, Lief."

You have emoted: With the one hand raised, Lief pulls the necklace from herself and begins the work of fitting her three new treasures onto its length. She bites the tip of her tongue lightly as she works, bowing over the necklace in mid-air. "It's not like I'm a renowned warrior," she says to herself, words quiet, muffled by mumbling. "It's not as though I'm as accomplished as so many others. I have so much I can still do..."

Faythe rolls her eyes at that remark from you. "Oh yes, so many more things you can do. Nevermind what you've already *done.* Nevermind that you used to joke about how you looked up to me, and now you've left me in your dust." She grins at you. "Nevermind that you are a goose that overworks herself and enthusiastically looks for more to do even after that."

Naevari's eyebrows scrunch inward again as the two women speak, a faraway look seeping into the yellow orbs beneath them as he listens. And he does listen - or at least he *appears* to - his upswept ears twitching periodically at the words spoken aloud in his presence.

Faythe lowers the hood on gold-edged, pale green robes of the philosopher.

Softly, his eyes still not unclouding, Naevari says to you, "Yes, you should listen to Faythe, Lief. You may have more to do, but that doesn't make what you've accomplished any less impressive."

Straight-faced, Rootweir Faythe says, "Yes, Lief. Have 'faythe' in my words."

The lovely scent of fresh grass rises in the air, mixed with the pungence of heavy, rich soil.

The ghost of a wry smile twitches at the corner of Naevari's lips at that.

You have emoted: Lief works the last bead onto its string. Raising it to her neck, she secures the leather back in place, though the room she has left for knotting has grown shorter and shorter still. Satisfied finally, she looks up again, only to give Faythe a flat stare. And then Naevari, too, for good measure. "I don't think a tree ever stops growing," she says, folding her arms, apparently unwilling to acknowledge the pun for what it is. "And I'm still only a sapling."

Faythe sighs in exasperation, reaching out and snatching her friend from the air. "You are a goose," she repeats, holding you captive for the moment in her arms. "We're not telling you to *stop* growing, only that we are impressed with the roots you have sunk into the ground." She gives you a noogie, before tossing you back up into the air.

Millien tells you, "I don't mean t'sound defeatist or nothin' but..I dunno about, y'know..Men an' all.."

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "What do you mean, sister?"

Naevari blinks into alertness when the stare finds his eyes. Bringing a slow hand up to knead at the nape of his neck, he looks sheepishly away, avoiding the faeling's gaze. But even so, he agrees with Faythe, saying meekly, "You're hardly a sapling, Lief, even if you haven't yet stopped growing."

Millien tells you, "I mean, y'suggested tryin' to walk around in their shoes, I think y' said..Sounds like y'meant I should try t'know more guys an'..I dunno..I clam up around 'em."

You have emoted: Lief gives a wordless squeal as she squirms in Faythe's arms, continuing the writhing until she's released back into the air. Immediately, now that she's settled, she quickly surveys Faythe for any incidental damage she might have inflicted. "I think I might be a sapling forever," she says, slowly shifting her attention away from Faythe to address Naevari when she's satisfied.

Faythe thrusts her palm towards her forehead and hits it with a resounding *smack*!

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "Oh, no, I didn't mean that! I only mean that pretending to be one, who knows what might happen? Who knows if it'd help?"

Rootweir Faythe exclaims, "Fine, you are a sapling, and I am a lump of manure. Forever!"

You tell Psalmist Millien Myeras, the Owl, "I don't think it can hurt - you'd have total control of your body on stage, pretending like you'd be."

Wounded, you ask, "You think being a sapling is bad?"

Rootweir Faythe says, "I think that you need to learn how to accept a compliment."

Faythe pokes you in the belly.

The hand on the back of Naevari's neck freezes at that, and then he looks up from the ground to find your gaze once more. "I suppose that's fine, as philosophical perspective of sorts," he offers at length, shrugging, "But I doubt there's anyone in the Wilde who doesn't find what you've done impressive."

Millien tells you, "Ah.."

Small insects flit about in a gentle cloud, their serene humming lending a murmuring cadence.

You have emoted: Lief rubs at the side of her head in growing confusion, looking between Faythe and Naevari. After biting inside her lip, she slowly says, "I've been trying so hard to understand why. To understand how my actions and deeds touch other people." Her fingers twitch, and she finds herself hugging her elbows for comfort. "I want others to find inspiration. I want to see others flourish. If they don't, I can't know how I touch them."

Faythe gives you the once-over, eyeing you suspiciously.

You have emoted: At Faythe's appraisal, Lief lets her wings carry her back a bit, her cheeks glowing with emotion. "I'm sorry," she offers, forcing her fingers to drop from her elbows, freeing her posture again by will.

Rootweir Faythe says to you, "What's there to understand? You say you're my best friend. You care about me, I care about you. I am happy for your accomplishments. That is how they touch me. You are happy, so I am happy. You are inspired, so I am inspired. The gems you wear on that cord of yours is as much a symbol of our friendship as it is a symbol of my appreciation of your deeds."

Naevari blinks at the display of vulnerability, then cocks his head as he takes a step back, his features softening as he studies you curiously.

Softly as he fidgets with the train of his tunic, Naevari says to you, "You *are* an inspiration, Lief. To me, anyway. You give *me* hope, at least."

Faythe's hands are fisted in her pockets, and she has averted her gaze after her unexpected outburst. She studies the canopy overhead.

Elexia tells you, "She's so bright! I am so proud, she's completed her collegium tasks already!"

You have emoted: Lief's fingertips climb up again, slowly, until they silently brush the surface of the beads wrapped around her neck. She considers Faythe's words - they seem stuck in her mind, and she grapples with them in quiet. Her fingertips lingering, with Naevari's words, she offers him a look, first, and then, with another look at Faythe something in her entire demeanor shifts. "I think you will both do wonderful things." The words are frail, at first, but gain conviction as she speaks. "You both have done so much already, even before you ever met me. I'm so lucky to have people like you in my life."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "O-oh!" The sound begins with some ambiguous motion, only to solidify sharply for its suddenness with her usual, typical joy. "That really *is* wonderful! I'm reminded of how lucky I felt when you asked to be my student, way back when."

Faythe shakes her head slightly, still studying the branches above her, head tilted upward. "I have done next to nothing. I wander aimlessly without a purpose these days. And yet you continue to say things like that. I suppose I understand it as little as you seem to understand your own greatness."

Waving a hand at the elfen, Rootweir Faythe says, "Even Naevari has done more than I, and he came after me."

Faythe tucks her hand back into her pocket, falling silent again.

Elexia tells you, "Oh, I hope to be as good a mentor as you were to me! Is all well, sister? I hope I did not disturb you from some deep thought..."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "You could never disturb me, ever, I don't think. No matter how deep the thought."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Everything's...it is well, it is! Some things are just so, so difficult to wrap my head around."

Again the fingers on Naevari's nape move, pressing unseen patterns into the back of his neck. He ducks his head, letting his eyes settle studiously on the ground beneath him, but the corners of his lips *do* twitch upward at your words, even if he doesn't initially seem to know what to say. At length, after Faythe has said her piece, he shakes his head softly. "I don't know, Lief. I've done little enough myself, and I don't know whether I'll be able to make good on the promise of your words, even if I *do* intend to try. But... Thank you. I'm lucky to have someone like you in my life, too."

Elexia tells you, "What troubles you, sister? Your mind is sharp indeed, I can scarce imagine what might so perplex you."

Naevari glances aside at Faythe and adds, "And I'm certain that isn't true, Faythe. I mean, I'm sure Lief *is* right about you."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Faythe and Naevari keep going on, and on, and on about how wonderful I am, about how much I've done and what triumphs I've accomplished and even mentioned I work myself too hard. It's difficult to see myself through their eyes, and I'm trying. I'm trying so hard."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "All I can see, all that I'm stuck on, is how much I have yet to do."

You have emoted: As Lief listens to first Faythe, and then to Naevari, she parts her lips as though in disbelief. And then, quietly, a little laugh bubbles up from inside herself. It startles her, and she clasps her hands over her mouth as soon as it begins, her eyes widening.

Faythe raises the hood on gold-edged, pale green robes of the philosopher.

Faythe gives you a peck on the cheek.

Through her fingertips, without accusation, you whisper, "You're both doing just what you accuse of me."

Rootweir Faythe says, "I should go."

Faythe lifts a hand in farewell to Naevari.

Elexia tells you, "I know your dreams are great indeed, sister, and that you seek to do so much more than you have already. But the works you have completed thus far, well... Is it truly so surprising that the Serenwilde is welcoming them, and by extension their creator? Our stage has been covered with dust, languishing in dormancy, and you've brought it to life with performance after performance. Four performances, in fact, with a fifth almost complete! And our library's shelves were once barren, but now your works have slowly begun to fill them."

Naevari blinks, his gaze snapping upward to lock at first suspiciously onto your. But then the slow, faint, nervous shadow of a smile bleeds onto his face, and he just says, "Perhaps. I mean, I suppose it's possible."

Bobbing his head in farewell, Naevari says to Faythe, "Take care, Faythe."

Rootweir Faythe says to you, "That we do. And yet we speak the truth all the same. You've done far more than we. That's not to say we won't do it in our own time - but once I've done something that's worth complimenting, I will acknowledge it."

Faythe's fingers tweak your nose lightly, and then she waves goodbye.

Faythe grows still and her lips begin to move silently.

You have emoted: This realization seems to offer Lief some solace, and she lets her hands drop to touch Faythe's shoulder.

Faythe is enveloped in translucent fire for a moment and is gone, her soul safe until she returns to Lusternia.

Elexia tells you, "I apologize, for you already mentioned you are overwhelmed with such ideas. I know you'll do much greater things, yet. Already I see how your writing has improved, and your play is looking to be more ambitious than your previous performances. I can't wait to see what you'll create in a decade hence, or even a century. But, I don't think it's so surprising that people view you so highly when we've been culturally starving for so long."

A little bit of laughter still breaking into her words, you say to Naevari, "I've been struggling so hard to see through your eyes, and through Faythe's, when I think perhaps I've been seeing through them all along."

Elexia tells you, "In any event, to temper this praise... My quill will one day catch up with your own, my dear sister!"

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Oh, Elexia, thank you. I really do mean it. And I do hope it will - I pray for it, even. Just ask my Lady!"

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "When you put together your debut performance as director on this stage, please make sure I can attend it. I want to sit in the very front and bask in what you make."

At that, whatever ghost of uncertainty still haunts Naevari's smile flees into the shadowed light of the afternoon woods. "I'm still not certain..." he begins at first anyway but then catches himself, and his smile broadens still further. "Perhaps so," he says instead, then, "At least, I'm glad to hear you say it, anyway."

Elexia tells you, "Oh, I eagerly await that day! My ballad is still in progress, alongside my book... I pray I shall soon conquer its use of metre that I might show it to you."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Oh, I can't wait! What is the ballad about, or is it a surprise?"

You have emoted: Lief simply smiles at Naevari, her earlier vulnerability forgotten - or perhaps not. Merely its pain. Giddily, she flits to and fro in the air, caught up in murmuring to herself, "The world is a mirror, isn't it?" She catches herself, and flashes Naevari another smile. "I think I ought to meditate on this. Are you well, though? I hope I haven't upset you at all."

Elexia tells you, "I wanted to try something perhaps a bit simple to begin with... It's a hunting ballad, about a furrikin lass from Estelbar. She was helping her father herd sheep on a warm Avechnary day when a terrible roc of immense proporations and cruel eye took the life of her father."

Elexia tells you, "After her mournful weeping, she vows to one day reap vengeance. She practices bow and spear, and decides to enter the Portal of Fate. Upon leaving it, for a time, she forgets the entirety of her past... Only for it to be awoken by the same roc's cry, in the same summer heat while she was traveling by chance through the mountains."

Elexia tells you, "A simple tale, perhaps! But I hope to make it exciting enough. I have to admit, constraining my songs to such an organized pattern is not something I'm used to. In particular, learning which syllables are stressed when a word is but one syllable long has been challenging."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "I don't think it's simple at all! I think the premise is really very thoughtful - for so many of us forget where we come from so completely upon leaving the Portal - and oh, I really like the idea of the story!"

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Besides, I think even if it were simple, that simple bonds to people really well. We can all take something different from it."

Elexia tells you, "It emboldens me to hear you say so, sister!"

"Oh yes, very well," Naevari reassures you with a bob of his head, sounding very much as though the question's taken him by surprise. And then, speaking the words slowly as though they belonged to a foreign tongue, he clarifies, "Just... worried about you, was all. I wanted to make certain you were all right."

You have emoted: Lief smiles earnestly at Naevari, clasping her hands together in front of herself before she speaks. "Truthfully," she offers, "you and Faythe helped me overcome an enormous obstacle that's been stuck in my head for the longest time. I'm better now than I've ever been."

At that, the corners of Naevari's mouth twitch upward once more, pulling it into a smile perhaps broader than any you has seen on the elfen before. Little dimples awakening in his cheeks, he says simply, "I can believe it, I think. And I'm glad. Truly glad, Lief."

You have emoted: Lief dips her antlered head in gratitude, the bowing motion nearly ceremonial with the flashing of chains which dangle from her many prongs. "I'm really thankful," she says, then lifts her head once more. Brightly, briskly, she adds, "Is there anything I can do for you before I meditate on this, Naevari?"

Elexia tells you, "Oh, if you don't mind sister, could you make a book for me? I would pay you, of course, I insist in fact."

Elexia tells you, "It's not urgent, of course, if you are occupied at the moment!"

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Oh, that's right! Would you like something made especially for you, or are you just looking for something to scribble in?"

Elexia tells you, "Oh, just something suitable for our shelves?"

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "How many pages would you like available for your use?"

Elexia tells you, "Let me look at my headings so far..."

Elexia tells you, "Six should suffice."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "Wonderful! Let me look through some options..."

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "I could do it as a book, and put together a book bound with leaves, or I could put together a journal, and you could use a leather journal of windborne amber seeds - which would you prefer?"

Elexia tells you, "I like the former, I believe!"

You tell Oracular Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "As soon as I make sure Naevari is content, I'll put it together!"

Blinking, Naevari drags a hand over his topknot-bound hair. For a long, silent moment, he says nothing, only shifting his weight from foot to foot, the smile on his face faltering, then vanishing, then tugging at his lips anew. But whatever thoughts trouble his head, he leaves them unvoiced, saying instead, "Nothing that ought to worry you, Lief," then, "Meditate well."

You have emoted: Lief tilts her antlered head, but she allows Naevari his privacy. Smiling gently, she nods, and with a wave, she slips off stage.