Judgement

The sickly sweet perfume of exotic bromeliad flowers overwhelms your senses as the sensation of
water dragging you against the currents beckons you to the Fulcrux of Li-varili.

You think to yourself: A coiling sense of unease, tempered with resolution. "It is time, then."

Waterlogged in a narrow cavern.
Sloshing underfoot, standing water floods the cavern floor, fed by an unending trickle that weeps
down the sheer stone surrounding this lonely mountain recess. Diffuse, haunting prasine mists linger
with strange luminescence just above the stagnant pool, coiling longingly toward a curtain of
fireweed blossoms draped over the farthest wall. A faint breeze whistles from some indeterminate
source, tracing over dappled blue pectolite that ripples in veins where it crests over duller rock
in silky patches of erosion. Despite the constant stir, a briny stench hangs in the air,
accompanying a pervasive clamminess that clings and chills.
You see exits leading east and through a tangled curtain of fireweed blossoms.

Avaris rolls his shoulders, fingers flexing and curling repeatedly as he takes a
steadying breath.

You step into the sanguine pool and approach the curtain of fireweed, gingerly parting a stalk woven
with flame-red blossoms aside. The tangles ensnare your hand and set your skin aflame with numerous
stings but it is too late to withdraw. The curtain is drawing you inwards, consuming you within its
dark and lush depths. Momentary darkness gives way to light as you are cast out into a sultry
lagoon, your body covered in crimson moisture.

The Fulcrux of Li-varili.
A comforting feeling of privacy pervades the area. Captivatingly aquamarine shallows rest in
preternatural stillness, secluded amidst this sultry, tropical lagoon. Beneath the water's crystal
surface, visible roots stand unburied and upright, arching into mangroves like cages for the sinuous
shadows intermittently threading between their aquatic bars. These spindly trees both shelter and
protect the intimate space beneath their lushly snarled canopies, their boughs dripping with woven
veils of tender fireweed blossoms, petals wafting a grassy scent into the saltwater air. As the
forest finds purchase on sandy soil about the perimeter, its trunks cluster more thickly together,
forbidding exploration with treacherous footing - and forging a dark, claustrophobic prison out of
its labyrinthine overgrowth. A coarse island shrine rises from the centre of the shallow pool,
bromeliads bursting about it in glorious adoration of the Lady of the Lagoons.
You see a single exit leading through a tangled curtain of fireweed blossoms.

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "Well, well. The little mortal has arrived after all."

Standing with his back rigidly straight, Avaris clasps his hands together at the
base of his spine, head held high. The chorus of his layered voice is cool, but polite, as he
replies, "I would not make a request of You, only to renege. Thank You for inviting me."

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "So polite. I wonder which of My cousins has taught you to grovel with
deference. At the very least, I do not sense the stench of the Enchantress upon you."

As the sun passes below the horizon's edge, Mother Night unveils her terrible, shadowy beauty,
spreading darkness across the land.

A distant, haunting voice echoes through the trees and over the water, bewitching the senses with
its melancholic song.

Avaris's fingers tighten minutely upon one another with a faint creak of protesting
chitin. "I do not grovel. I pay You the respect an Elder is deserved. I did not need to be taught
such by a Divine - Manners are common enough."

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "How noble. If you are not here to grovel, then I wonder what you are here
for, then."

You think to yourself: A vast wall of condensed light, forged and hardened into a bladed dam that
keeps his anger at bay - Yet it stirs, sluggish and somnolent as a leviathan disturbed by fitful
dreams. "Fortitude. Stay calm."

Across the heavens, the stars and moon challenge night's dark reign, revealing familiar
constellations that tell the tales of myth and legend.

A distant, haunting voice echoes through the trees and over the water, bewitching the senses with
its melancholic song.

The sixfold wings that take up much of Avaris's back shift, stretching out a modest
distance to bare slivers of stylised eyes, which gglow with white, cold light. "To see for myself
what sort of Divine You are. I do not think it wise to judge You swiftly, given Your history, and
circumstances."


Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "And here I thought you were here to play diplomat from your little missive.
Instead I am to be inspected and dissected like some exotic insect, held to your judgment and
scrutiny."

Suddenly disturbing the waters, a menacing shadow vanishes deeper into the gloomy shade of
mangroves.

Cackling laughter ripples about the lagoon at the centre of the Fulcrux, a cruelty underscoring its
mirth.

The pall of night weighs heavily upon the sticky, humid air, offering meagre relief from the heat.

Baleful, feminine laughter ripples from the impenetrable shadows of night.

In a voice of deliberate, composed calm, Avaris responds, "I have not the skill to
play at diplomacy, Lady. I leave that to others, far better suited to it." The four, broad swathes
of red that form his antennae stand upright, quivering with tension, though his visored face offers
no sign of emotion - Or anything at all, other than the alien, unblinking gaze of his seven azure
eyes. "All judge and weigh others, Lady, whether they know it or not. I am simply more forthright
about it, and aware." A pause, and then, "May I inquire as to the state of Your wounds? I do not
wish to upset You."

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "Ah, so you are concerned about My welfare. How touching. Is it merely out of
goodwill, I wonder? Or do you desire more of me than your calm words suggest."

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "I am strong enough to fend for Myself."

Baleful, feminine laughter ripples from the impenetrable shadows of night.

Suddenly disturbing the waters, a menacing shadow vanishes deeper into the gloomy shade of
mangroves.

Avaris lapses into silence for a time, still and as out of place within the lagoon
as a golden monument spat out from a rent to a Kephera's idea of Holy Celestia. When he does speak
once more, it is with the measured cadence of one choosing his words with great care. "To an extent,
but I will not pretend that that is my motivation for coming here. Others flock to You in concern
and sympathy in droves. My worry runs towards how You will impact events, and how You will alter the
balance of power." A sound, too melodic to be a grunt, yet a harmonious relative of one nonetheless.
"Your convalescence is complete, then?"

Again the cloying scent of bromeliads pervades your senses as you sense a wary gaze upon you,
sinister and suffocating.

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "If I did not know any better, little mortal, I would say you are accusing Me
of being a threat."

Avaris's antennae twitch aside with abrupt, violent motion, as if seeking to flick
an undesired substance from themselves.

A distant, haunting voice echoes through the trees and over the water, bewitching the senses with
its melancholic song.

The polished, inhuman orbs of Avaris's eyes regard the lagoon at large with an air
of patient, clinical appraisal. "Anything can be a threat, Elder. The more power one possesses, be
it raw might, skill, or power over others, the greater potential threat they represent." A gradual
tilting of his head, the ridged, flared edges of his white jaw rising by degrees. "In my estimation,
You likely possess a great deal of at least one element."

Avaris adds, cooly polite still, "I take it that You will not answer my prior question?"

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "What a peculiar dichotomy you place upon Me. For I am at once a helpless
victim of Fate and suffering, and simultaneously an overwhelming threat to that which you hold dear.
My, what an estimation."

You think to yourself: "Helpless? Ah. Hardly that, Lady. Hardly that."

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "You shall have to repeat the question, for it has already bored enough that
I have forgotten it."

With the implacable patience of a glacier, and all the warmth thereof, Avaris
repeats, "Your convalescence is complete, then?"

A distant, haunting voice echoes through the trees and over the water, bewitching the senses with
its melancholic song.

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "My convalescence. You ask if I am restored to as I was before the betrayer
imprisoned Me within the hateful seat?"

Avaris's response, this time, is immediate. "No. That, as I believe You know, is
impossible. You have suffered too much, for too long. The betrayal alone will have damaged the
foundation of Your capability to trust to catastrophic degrees." Disengaging his lower left hand, he
passes it aside in a smooth, careful arc. "I shall rephrase, then. Are Your physical wounds healed?
Your reserves of power, of essence, at capacity?"

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "I hold enough Will and strength to be a threat to you, little mortal. That
is enough for you to know. You are correct in one matter, however. To return to what I was is
impossible."

An ill wind with all the bitterness of sea and salt gusts through the Fulcrux, stinging with spite.

Clouds darken the firmament with moody greys, casting sullen shadows upon the watery grove below.

Lowering his errant hand, Avaris sets it against the indent of his narrow waist,
watching the occasional shadows that lurk in the waters without overt fear. He weathers the wind
stolidly, though it whips the spray of his mane about like the spume of a furious sea, and sets the
gentle effulgence of his feathers to disarray. "Your choice of answer is sufficient. Thank You." He
lapses into silence for a brief period of time, reflexively shaking out his wings in an attempt to
restore them to order. "What, then, do You wish to be, going forward? What do You intend?"

You think to yourself: Cold, detached assessment, as a soldier studying the layout of an enemy
fortification, noting details that are small, yet significant.

A tingling of anticipation lingers in the air in the wake of the bracing wind, now replaced with the
buzzing cacophony of an insect-laden lagoon, its hum intermingling with the soft susurrus of waves
pooling into stagnant waters.

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "Everything."

Glorious rays of morning light burst forth from Father Sun's crown as it peeks over the world's
edge, announcing a bright and shining new dawn.

In response to the cacophonous symphony of the myriad insects, Avaris's chest
vibrates, emanating a range of buzzing, humming pitches both rich and low, and high, yet sweet. In
contrast to that which he contests, the sounds weave together into a harmonious hymn of steady,
pleasant tones, low enough in volume to provide a backdrop to his voice, as he says, "That is what I
anticipated. And what will You do to achieve such?"

Clouds darken the firmament with moody greys, casting sullen shadows upon the watery grove below.

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "You mortals are so self-important, it is endlessly amusing."

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "But I tire of this little game between Us, and My well of patience runs dry
in the shallow tide."

Avaris dips his head in a slight nod. "I will not impose upon You longer, then. It
is my hope that You will seek healing - But I do not think that You wish to be healed." Inhaling,
the breath subtly unsteady, he clasps his hands once more at the base of his spine, resolute. "Will
You allow me to depart, or shall You do otherwise?"

You think to yourself: A thread of fear, winding tight about his heart, squeezing, coiling, seeking
to choke the font of his courage.

Vicious waves the glaucous hue of turbulent seas disturb the lagoon's murky waters as a mocking,
feminine voice sneers, "You may think you are the one who looks down upon Me, little mortal. But
rest assured."

Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons whispers to you, "It is I who shall judge you."

A smattering of droplets strike you, and you scent the sweet, heavy smell of bromeliads as you sense
the presence of Li-varili. From the damp ground about you sprout vines, which wrap about your limbs,
holding you fast. Some blossom, the heavy scent intensifying, as the vines tighten about you. Soon
you are cocooned, despite your pleas and thrashing, and water begins to pour in around you, filling
your nose, your lungs, your eyes. Still you see and smell the red bromeliads, their beauty mocking
your agony, until at last your screaming lungs cease to strain for breath in favour of oblivion.
You have been slain by Li-varili.