[20:33]
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[20:40] Another night walking amidst this village of many colors, a detailed canvas of green ornate with colorful blossoms. Walking under that pierced canvas which covers us all from the daylight each nights. The greyish eyes met this one man glimmering under the golden ethereal burning lily. The same fatigued glare was gifted anew to this man in question by the thin frame and she soon approached, taking a place on his side.

The crown of orange and golden flower yet still covers her head, allowing trail of sparkles to follow her steps with the flow of arcane light. As she sat on his side, she allowed her eyes to lock upon his form, allowing the lightest smile to bloom upon her face before saluting him.

"... Greetings... Betelgeuze."
(Zefa)
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[20:46] Virgil was yet again strolling the town, not having anything to do. His arms lay at his side, he'd notice yet another person that hadn't been seen again. The hooded youth sauntered to the stool, noticing her walking to the same place he was. Ah, another individual who knew this 'Bagelcheese'. The youth's posterior hit the stool, his digits grabbing on the of the supports to pull himself in closer to the table. It was the same guy who tried to taint his mind as before, sitting right in front of him.

A sigh escaped his lips, turning his head to Zefa. His hands were now placed on to the table, his fingers rhythmically tapping the table. She didn't seem like a bad person, at least when compared to Bagelcheese, but, they were acquainted in some way, so perhaps she was as bad as he thought. His smile disappeared from his face, the silver hues of Virgil resting on the form of Zefa, watching her every move. This was something normal for Virgil to do,since he was kind of wary...Except, he refused to show it no matter the scenario.

"Hmm?"
(Virgil)
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[20:55] There were many nights which the oracle found himself meditating. Today, he was seated at an oak table, praying to the angel that guided; Maltziel. Nothing was heard, all sound would fall against a wall, until his hands descended upon the table and gently pushed against the surface.

Betelgeuze opened his eyes, eyes that had seen light beyond the earth.

With these eyes, he gazed at the sage, which deterministically had found him once more. Greetings... Betelgeuze. This was the second time they'd come to meet. Had she come here intentionally, to meet with the oracle? Betelgeuze, yet, did not ponder upon it.

"Zefa."

The oracle's eyes shifted to the hooded child before him, the one that despised the oracle for his faith, for his beliefs. Yet, the oracle did nothing but appreciate the differences that separated them. To him, that wall was invisible, it did exist, but it was without merit.

It was not to be broken down, the oracle phased through, as a gentle bird through the tempests.

Yet, the oracle did not say anything to the child. For the time being. The oracle already knew that the child would grant his input soon enough, thusly his gaze met once more with the noble sage's. A smile, of warmth, of peace, of light was given by the holy one.

"No need to be formal, little bird."
(Betelgeuze)
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[21:12] The voice of the child sitting before them would not be unnoticed, it's presence as well. As the diver the explores the deep seas... As the adventurer that explores a new realm. She explores every single details of the world that surrounds her, she is gifted of an observant nature that allows her to perceive everything.

She gifted the weary little bundle of curiosity a smile. Understanding the shyness that merely is mutual, she allowed her eyes to be gifted anew to the oracle. The last conversation the sage had with Betelgeuze allowed her for the first time to truly feel understood, it changed her in many facets. Their first acquaintance is the golden flower amidst the garden of memories. That little difference amidst her existential garden that makes it unique.

The single smile gifted by the Oracle had shown to be contagious, warmth, peace, comfort... It is difficult to resist, a power that allows that thick shell of introversion to be broken. She allowed those words to bloom, allowing the little butterflies which lies over the blossomed flower of her memories to fly away.

"... Hm... Thank you... Spark of light... You have given me an opportunity to allow a light to blossom... I have not mastered it yet... I merely have used it in order to aid... The empathy being the rain to that flower of golden...", she affirmed, allowing her eyes to shift once again upon the child before her.

"Hello... Young one... You seems concerned... Are you fine?...", that little spark of understanding acted like the sunshine amidst a river... That flow of mana which emanates the crown of flower glew, yet only lightly.
(Zefa)
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[21:21] Betelgeuze. He was the one who caused all worries within Virgil, making him feel incessant discomfort with the words he had said. Their conversation not lasting that long, he knew they were fated to meet again, just like he had said. Their conflicting views was bound to end in quarrel, so the hooded youth thought. His presence seemed to be much more soothing than previously, his entirety being almost regal. It'd be a surprise if he wasn't of noble decent, to be honest.

His gaze fixed on the oracle, seeing as they were two completely different coins, not even two sides of the same one. A simple nod given to him, his body trembling ever so slightly, signifying the damage of what was said to him before. Those words were words of a demon in the eyes of Virgil. In fact, if Virgil was to dig deeper, they were no different from each other, just affiliated with completely different towns. His head turned to that of the female, almost ignoring the presence of Bagelcheese. This man was a force to be reckoned with, no doubt.

"I think that I'm fine, I don't know though. Thereth a lot wrong. " A lisp that still lingered from the chipped tooth. Perhaps it would go away after a while, maybe it was permanent...Only time would tell. Zefa had a light completely different than Betelgeuze, but similar simultaneously. What was it? It didn't matter, it was irrelevant right now. His eyes decided to fixate on the crown of flower that had a dim light emitting from it, seemingly intrigued.

"Whath that?" A question from a youth who wanted to know more than he did. Virgil was different with many people, depending on how they were and even how they looked, like weird head girl for example. His palms lifted up, resting on both of his cheeks, never moving his eyes away from the crown...Fascinating.
(Virgil)
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[21:35] Amidst a garden that brought with it monotonous bloodshed, stood a golden flower, one that was untainted by the rest. Within this garden, there were flowers that'd spread its light. Yet, some flowers would not be accepting of this gift.

But the golden one did not care.

Betelgeuze's gaze shifted onto the crown of flowers, the one that he had blessed with his protection before the shackles contained his light. Yet, it shone through his choice. The power of choice was strong, inevitably all-consuming. As said before to the child, his pendulum would forever swing to the heavens, never to falter.

"That light shall certainly be that of hope, dear one. You will understand, you will appreciate. One day, the winter shall truly end. You need only push on, push forth into the bleak cold. The snow shall melt and all shall make sense. Fate, happens to everyone, for all reasons. Yet.."

"Fate is always as it should be."

With his gaze set then onto the child before them, the oracle would do nothing. Not a smile was given, nor was a comment made on his inquiry of the crown adorned with golden flowers. Yet, the oracle did speak on his worries. The worry that something was wrong.

"I believe all shall make sense, once one truly observes life outside of oneself. It is then that it is revealed, that mankind holds perspectives boundless. Perspectives that distance us from the truth, that encloses around us as ego absorbs our light. Everything is as it should be."
(Betelgeuze)
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[21:51] The winter shall ends, yes... It always ends, such is the cycle of seasons. Leaves growing to cover each wicked branches of the growing tree, those leaves which falls amidst the coldness of the winter, falling following the flow of the wind... Until it falls and rot only remaining memories of the tree which had gifted it it's branch. The tree can do nothing, but grow after each winter and witness.

No one can control the turning of fate, yet one can accept and truly understand it's flow. Fate being that flow which can sometimes guide under torrent of winds and rains, Zefa being the free bird flowing upon that endless flow, she cannot do more then learn from each tempests.

She truly respects and understand the Oracle's vision, yet her path made her believe differently in the slightest. It was however enough to gift him of her agreeance.

The young woman had responded to his word of a light nod of her head, greyish eyes hid behind it's pupils yet merely during that one moment when she labored a nod of her head.

"Mhm... Every passing days... Every waking hours... I have come to understand the flow of life and truly accept it..."

No one can bring grains of the existential hourglass from falling. Yet accepting those grains to fall is a part of understanding.

Her eyes now shifted upon the child before her, responding to his question.

"The flower crown?...", she asked, pointing this one with her index. Her visage displaying a wonder whilst laboring a light tilt of her head. "Hm... It is a gift given to me... It had changed me... Somehow... It emanates a flow which brought me to understand the turning of fate...", she affirmed, allowing that taint of light to flow around her form.

However, her attention had suddently been drawn upon the people speaking of occultists. There is one of them which she had made the acquaintance. Perhaps they would be interested in acknowledging this one chapter with the broken mellowed tree.

"Hm... Occultist?... I have made the acquaintance with one... If you are interested in hearing my tale..."
(Zefa)
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[21:54] Esbern's attention is drawn by zefa's mention of occultists. He looks to her with a surprised expression - there aren't many people that would directly admit associating with occultists.

"You know of an occultist? In that case, yes, I would definitely be interested in hearing more.", he responds.
(Esbern Antioch)
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[21:57] This was the one time Virgil's gaze shifted, looking at Betelgeuze. No exuberant expression, no signs of any emotion when their eyes locked. That was...Frightening, to say the least. Especially since this one was one of righteous values, being the one who wanted eternal peace, not temporary peace. How could he even achieve that in the first place? It was a conversation that was once overheard, one between him and Urlen, and it was never forgotten, no matter how much that he wanted to forget any conversation involving Betelgeuze.

Manipulative, no, a beacon of light is what he was. One that stood tall in darkness, even with trials ahead of him. Nay, he can't fall for the tricks of a Orsonan prisoner! Especially if they were to try and change his beliefs; his religion in fact. A plethora of metaphors has been used by Betelgeuze in any form of communication they had, and it was tedious more than anything to have to breakdown what he was saying.

Passionate, just like the burning flames that emit from him in combat. When he was truly speaking about something he enjoyed, one would almost instantly be able to tell that they were talking with a Fire Magi, with his presence alone.

"Non-thenthe…The flower crown on your head ith beautiful...How did it thange you at all? Ith juth flowerth…" His head turned to Esbern after the question, noticing the name being called from someone who entered the town not too long ago. Esbern, huh? He also seemed to be a prisoner, having a collar around his neck, restraining any use of magic.

"..." No words were spoken after his question, merely listening in on the talk between Zefa and Esbern about an occultist. Those were dangerous...
(Virgil)
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[22:11] Tribulations endless stood ahead of the oracle, that was certain. Yet, the oracle did not see these challenges for what they were. Instead, they were invisible. The risk of divergences, it did not bother the oracle at all. His secret? Betelgeuze believed that if he were to die, that it would be fate. Fate, had brought him in chains.

Would it also release him?

If that were the case, then fate had given him a chance. A chance to do good for the world, a chance to spread his ember forevermore. If that were not the case, then someone in his stead would spread this ember. Fate, was the inevitable. Betelgeuze, was inevitable. There was something powerful about his light and perhaps, that was it.

The power of the inevitable, that blessed the oracle.

Somehow, he was capable of revealing the future to all. Osrona would fall, this was his prediction before the war had started. Therefore, he chose to head to war for the side that would fall, knowing that many would die. It was his mission to save lives, and that was all.

Even then, when he did not understand fate, when it was elusive, a mystified hourglass. It was even then that the oracle understood fate. His gaze, starry and of gold, set out onto the ether as he heard the words of the sage. Betelgeuze, at least, had an effect on her.

The light had already spread to many individuals that would further spread it. Like a contagious flame. This light, was the inevitable. Betelgeuze's inevitability was his light, after all. The smile granted to her was of warmth and only of that. There was no masquerade, ulterior motives or desires behind the smile.

It was genuinely happiness that shone through the darkest of nights. "Your frozen shell has already begun to melt. I am glad for you, little bird. You will certainly soar heights unreached. Your light, is as mine, a beacon of hope. Spread that light, spread your hope. Never waver. You must believe, always."
(Betelgeuze)
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[22:26] First, her attention was gifted to Esbern which displayed his interest upon acknowledging that one chapter written under that existential book. Her same usual fatigued, yet glimmering glare was yet still carved upon her feminine visage. As a painting.

To tell that story, she had to explore that wide garden of her memories. Surprisingly, this one was not of a dark color, it was of a crimson. A rose to be more precise. The crimson as a symbol of passion flowing within one's veins and the thorn that ornate this one. Attempting a grasp merely bring the touch to be shattered and bring the crimson to be shared. It is when the Rose becomes a symbol of both passion and empathy. She had felt both of those feelings during that acquaintance.

"... Hm... It was a night, I was walking amidst the Desert of Illburg… I used to reside here... However, I have made the acquaintance with that grey haired woman of a piercing vermillion gaze... It was some years ago, and she was the first to attack me...", she could perfectly remember a gaze both of fear and anger... "... She was confused... Lost... Misguided... I have attempted to speak with her, yet... She soon became surrounded of a dark energy which ornate the blood that blossomed from her veins... It was a difficult fight and myself is quite far from being one which could be considered as a fighter... I have lost, she stole my money... I have attempted to get her name, yet... She refused to gave it to me, so I have named her broken mellowed tree..."

That little growing tree soon broken by the nearest abrupt tempest passing by.

"... I have attempted everything, yet... I believe she had spoken of a brother... Perhaps she had been misguided within the coldness of those dread feelings... I understand her actions... I can barely blame her, yet... She truly is a danger..."

Then her attention had soon been gifted anew to Betelgeuze. Displaying his understanding that she had allowed that scorching passion within the break that shell of ice.

"Hm... I will spread it... I promise..."
(Zefa)
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[22:32] Esbern shakes his head upon hearing the story. Zefa's description matched an already known occultist, and as a result, wasn't exactly news.

"Your broken mellowed tree already has a bounty on them, I'm afraid, though not under that name", he comments, raising his eyebrow as he mentions the name Zefa gave her.

"I was kind of hoping you had discovered a new occultist - someone residing in Myllenoris, for example. Nevertheless, it's a shame to hear about your lost coin. My sympathies", he adds with a sympathetic nod.

Spotting an interesting figure nearby, he offers Zefa a light wave before walking over to Caila.
(Esbern Antioch)
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[22:33] Completely ignored. Virgil felt sadness overcome him, knowing as Zefa or Esbern had give him any attention. Still a young adolescent who lacked anyone to care for him, so it hurt when he needed to be heard and no one was listening. His lips curved down in to a smile, his palms moving from the table in to his pockets. It wasn't his time to be here, since it was talk of grown-ups, those who were much older than him. An adolescent of the young age of fourteen shouldn't be able to involve himself in any conversation with adults.

Perhaps it was mood-swings, and the effects of puberty were catching up with the youth. The lisps weren't helping his self-esteem, either. A melodramatic sigh came from his mouth, expressing not just his emotion, but how teenagers tend to be attention seekers or having multiple different moods. It was a sign he was developing not only as an individual, but as a person. His body was maturing, yet his mind didn't follow suit. It was the lack of meaning and his own immaturity that made him like so; a thing to expect from those who don't have any guardian or older person for guidance.

"Nobody careth, huh?" The youth's feet swung from the stool, kicking the grass beneath the table constantly. Please, stop this Mike Tyson-wanna be from being so dramatic.
(Virgil)
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[22:43] Nobody cared?

Betelgeuze's hand reached forth to the center of the table, only to knock in the middle. Then, his gaze would set upon the child. The knocking was clearly to draw attention to his every action, a technique, perchance, to ascertain the gaze of another.

"Do not fall, dear friend. There is always someone that thinks of you out there. I am certain you, too, are thought of. There is someone that does care. That is too, an inevitability. Be at peace and understand, that all is well in this world." These words were radiant, even to an enemy.

Nothing seemed to make sense with the oracle, that understood all, even those that had chained him. His love was limitless, without condition. Even as prisoner, his soul soared beyond the clouds, into the stars that had blessed his very birth.

"Understand fate. Understand life. Understand yourself above all else, dear friend. Once you understand yourself, you will begin to understand those around you. Just as you will understand causality, the inevitability of fate."

(Betelgeuze)
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[22:44] Zefa says, "Hm... I apologize, ihave forgotten to answer your question... Young one... This crown emanates a power for a reason that i have yet to acknowledge... Yet it was gifted to me by Betelgeuze..."
[22:45] Zefa says, "I may now rest... Fare you well..."
[22:45] Virgil hates the crown now
(Virgil)
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[22:45] Betelgeuze says, "Fare thee well, little bird."
[22:45] Virgil says, "Your crown ith thupid."
[22:45] Virgil says, "But bye."
[22:45] Betelgeuze says, "Be at peace."