In Your Hands: Nocht

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.

You offer up The Silver Brazier of Divine Devotion to Nocht, the Silent.

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

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

You feel an icy breath brush across your cheek as a hushed voice says, "Hello, My little one."

With dusky, lyrical inflections, you whisper, "...hello, my Lord."

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

The image above churns violently as a hollow voice whispers, "You have made your testimony... Your thoughts on what the other mortals thought?"

You purse your lips, deep in thought.

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

Softly, you say, "...of those that followed and aided Her, I can only find their logic... flawed. They assume no one else has suffered, that no one else might relate to Her. That none of the present party has lost children, or felt pain that seemed too great to bear. That She was wholly spited and reviled, regardless of true events. Yes, She suffered, and horribly, and in that, She is a victim. But She did not have to do what She did, not from my humble point of view. It is no excuse for what was done and said."

The blackthorn shudders, sending showers of white petals across the fulcrux as a soft voice whispers, "And if the decision were in your hands, My little one, what would you do with Her?"

You have emoted: Esei folds their hands in their lap, black eyes thoughtfully downcast as their feathers ruffle in the breeze.

You have emoted: "Perhaps leave Her to Her own devices, deep within the Void, as other Elders have been," Esei finally says, wings flexing slightly. "That way, Her life is Her own, even if it may be a short one. One could argue to put Her back in the Seat, but I feel as though Her disciples would only scheme to set Her free once more. One could also argue to subsume Her within the Wyrd, perhaps as Lord Manteekan was. Or perhaps it may be... kinder to simply kill Her, if such was even an option." They fall silent once more, fingers curling tightly. "There may be other options, but they are not ones I would know..."

You have emoted: Esei's hand raises to touch the back of their head, eyes growing distant for a moment before they blink, staring straight ahead at the shrine.

The image above churns violently as a hollow voice whispers, "Interesting... Thank you. It is always interesting to hear how you each see the world and its events."

You nod.

Quietly, you ask, "...I... did have a question for You, my Lord, if You were willing?"

You feel an icy breath brush across your cheek as a hushed voice says, "You may ask it, My little one."

With dusky, lyrical inflections, you ask, "During the Awakening of Sister Sea, I saw You whisper something to Her, and Sister Sea... would You be willing to share what You told them?"

You feel an icy breath brush across your cheek as a hushed voice says, "To Li-Varili?"

You nod.

You feel an icy breath brush across your cheek as a hushed voice says, "To the young Spirit Sea... I simply told her that it is not yet her time, and bid her to return to dreaming slumber. To My Cousin... a promise. The nature of which I will not share at this time."

You nod your head slowly in understanding.

With dusky, lyrical inflections, you say, "Thank You."

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

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.

You have emoted: Esei exhales in a thin, steady stream, wings stirring the air as they come to wrap around the changeling.

Softly, you ask, "...would You have anything more for me, my Lord?"

The image above churns violently as a hollow voice whispers, "Not yet, little one. I would see the matter of Li-Varili resolved first."

You nod solemnly.

A light wind whips the cloying scent of roses and congealed blood into your senses, reminding you fondly of home.

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.

You have emoted: "Then, if I may," Esei quietly utters, pulling out a ceramic bottle. "A tea for You, my Lord." They place it carefully by the shrine, near its left side. Their fingers brush reverently over the air of the Mantle as they retreat.

You drop a ceramic bottle decorated with faintly luminescent purple flowers.

You have emoted: After a few long moments of peaceful silence, Esei rises from their position, bowing mutely towards the shrine.