CFProxy

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

"Beyond the great vision was a veil. Beyond that veil a dream. Where did it go? None would know and yet all would see. Dancing across planes and dimensions until there was none left. But where we found none we realized that we had merely scratched the limitations of the divine. Horrifying and yet beautiful."

The First Cycle

---

Vak’Thuum

---

Roaring flame. A great mass of greyish blue ripping through the atmosphere and heading towards the one place that was coated with a cool color. Tentacles swimming like waves through the current of the skies as one by one they undid themselves upon the divine form. Black water dripped as he sped down, sending the strange liquid of condensed energy across the planet. Perhaps in another time and place it would have looked like the final days, but here it merely marked the first of many.

Thuuum! Great waves of water roared from the impact and there Vak would rest in blackened waters. Sinking deeper and deeper into a bubbling void.

Quiet. Nothing but the stillness of the dark and memories of that cage. He had made himself evolve and within swirled countless thoughts. It was time to give this gift- and burden- to another. A tongue that gods could understand and mortals could learn.

Give life to the lifeless. Give form to the formless. Produce possibility and break the chains of limitation. Arise and be whole.

Whipping tentacles and words of power flowed through the dark waters. The only glimmer of life within the red eyes which watched as darkness became a shimmer and a shimmer became a spark. Tentacles glowed with a purple light, swirling and caressing and molding the arcane within. Arcane became manifest as flesh. Growing wild and into a visage not so unlike its creator. Tentacles sprouting from a blackened mass with sprouting limbs of lightly webbed and clawed hands. Armored with scale skin with razor sharp bone ready to press out from where they rested. Then there was the rest. A mixed form. Humanoid in shape with the artistry of a unisex being. Perhaps one could argue they were more feminine than not, but they were functional for the purpose that was forming. What inspired this- or the sharp teeth they now spoke with- one could not fully know. But the arcane entity at the beginning of time held some resemblance. The being cried out in the dark and it demanded answer.

Vak, without hesitation, would oblige.

---

Sivmouri, Unknown Southern Isle

Rite of Passage

Thunk! Sink! Slash! Thwack!

Bone blades crashed against one another, driving the siblings of the pit to grind in the dance of the low light sky. Hidden by fog where two burning red suns suffered to illuminate the ground beneath them. Advance, flee, advance, lunge, flee. Hop to one side and then the next. Feint- then strike!

Blood. Dripping dark with a blue tone from the arm's rage. Spraying across the red sands with a violent stroke of brush the gift of life ran quickly into the arms of entropy. Despite this, or rather because of this, the wounded roared. A scream of confusion. A declaration of pain. Most of all, however, it was a demand for revenge.

Scrambling, the wounded quickly crawled across the sands with tentacles tossing sand with every strike upon the earth. Battle-cry screeching and arms cutting at air as though they could undo the fabric of the stars. Given enough strength- perhaps they could. Such was the way the battle scarred had treated it. A dash back had left its mark upon the sands and tips of bones clashed once more. Echoes hurried across to deliver their message to long cold bodies which draped the red in black. Frenzied. Once given the strength of the inner fire they are given lethal hands. Speed increases and the drum within follows the pace of their fury. But this is no issue for this one.

Battle scarred as they were it would hardly be news to one such as Sivmouri. Chosen of the Mouri. Warden of its people. Blood Crazy Octari. But despite their acknowledgements they were of level head for times such as these. Alakumohr was vicious and powerful. Stronger shoulders meant a stronger grip. As much as Siv reveled in the idea of ripping them apart- it was clear that Alaku would simply rip Siv apart if given the chance. This would not do. Make haste instead and buy time.

They danced, blades singing and tentacles dragging again and again and again until the enraged Alaku shoved in and drove bones to crash against the falling Siv who rested now against the ground. Drive them through the skull and end it now!

Tentacles wrapped around arms as they came in. Slowing the force behind the plunging finish until it was but moments from crashing against the gritting teeth of the Mouri. Seconds of standstill later and a grin dawned upon Siv's blood thirsty face. "Lost too much blood, Alaku. Continued to lose too much blood. Wasted the gift until you were made dry."

"Still enough to end you, Siv! Still enough to become Vak'thuum's chosen!" Tentacles of the Mohr pressed against the ground, driving the warrior closer and closer with drooling mouth opening to ease upon the Mouri's neck.

"Still not enough!" With their own tendrils the Mouri spread the arms wide, leaving the blades to crash into the sands. Left hand retracted blade and grabbed at jaw, slamming mouth shut before pressing back and to the side. With a roar right arm was pulled back and at the end of the bellow it ripped through neck and settled into the pulsing core. A cry of pain, then a slumping of the arms, and finally the toss of Mohr to the ground beside. Crawling to a crouch the Mouri hovered over the Mohr, blood stained teeth showing death in their reflection.
"Siv... waste not the gift... as I have..." Alaku requests breathing slower with every passing moment.

"Our rites are the same, Alaku. I will waste none of it. Of this my word is true. Find rest in the dark abyss."

A moment later and Sivmouri would sink their teeth and take their fill. A moment after that and they would stand tall with blades retracting back into their arms. Turning Siv would stare into the suns above. Impossibly large and far away. Yet there they would declare themselves to the light above.

"This one has survived the pact that we Octari have made! Bless us now- sacred Vak'thuum! Give us strength for we have shown you our will! Whether it be beast of the land or the tribes we form we will conquer and perform our duty!"

Silence. A long and drawn silence which echoed across the night sky. A silence so long that doubt could settle and turn legs to jelly. But Sivmouri stood tall and simply awaited response, staring with crimson eyes staring right back.

A grand tentacle emerged from the shores. Tall as the great trees in the forest beyond. Then a voice rang from the suns beyond.
"Sivmouri. The gift you seek has come with its price. Your fate was your own and though your options were many, this is the road that the Octari will travel by your pact. In accepting this- you will sacrifice what you are to be reborn. Do you accept in knowing this?"

"I do. We all did by our bond. Let us be enriched and understand and made anew. We will be your tools of growth for our sake and creation beyond."

More tentacles came. They slithered across, impossibly large, and took hold of the cold bodies left from the rite of passage and brought them back into the black waters. All the while large runes formed around Sivmouri, lighting the ground with a blue glow. For a moment Sivmouri shivered. This life had only just begun and so quickly it would come to end. When given the choice to live free or become instruments of fate they chose to surrender themselves and to understand. They would either serve the dark waters and its master or not live at all. But with death so close- their demise so certain, Siv couldn't help but find strength in closing their eyes.
"Then let it be done. Be made anew and rise once more." As Siv opened their eyes to the sound of rushing water it became clear that the tree tall tentacle as now as a mountain. So large, wide, and tall that it blotted out the sun. Now the mountain was falling- falling onto them. "Be not afraid." They hold their breath and close their eyes, stretching arms wide open.

Thuum.

---

Light rose over the shores of sparkling water where the trees stood tall and the sun rose higher. Shuffling across sands an Octari joins others in ritual observation. The spark of life within all shines through their eyes as they raise their heads to the spire surrounded by black ooze radiating with an infectious power. Upon it, the visage of their champion with claws stretching to pull across shoulders buried deep into the spire's core. They gathered in prayer and in hope. A weak collective- deadly- yet without their greatest warriors. Let the laws of their ritual dictate their fate. This they believed and this they hoped would make them strong.

They waited in silence until the sky fell with blood. A crimson storm washing them with doubt. An omen perhaps? They did not know. It was not as the water, but was as the blood of beasts. Chattering turned to rioting of chaos until the spire cracked with a primordial gurgle. Silence. The cracks grew exponentially and the visage began to scream. Fear settled into the eight legged creatures and not long after they were frozen with their acceptance. Bursting from the spire came the ink blood of their kin who fell into the black spawning pool beneath. They were- different.

What once stood as a creature of six feet now stood at a towering ten. Their arms were bigger and their shoulders wider- draped with thick scales and outward spikes. Bone blades which were once doubled of edge through grinding together now danced with serrated edges. Their left arm was coated with a black finish and a purple glow. It was altered- burning with the smell of Vak'thuum. Their face was now detailed with sharper features, wider and armored just the same and their once green eyes now burned with two blazing suns identical to that of the light in the sky during the ritual. Flaps of thick tentacles which once fell from their head now was accompanied by tendrils which seemed to act upon their own. What was further is as they came from pool they cut across the sands with bladed tentacles armored with a thicker hide.

They were a monster Tendrils from their back flowing out with arcane energies. Blood of the fallen dripping from their mouth as they began to speak.
"I have become the death of our fear! Rejoice for we shall carry in the will of our creator. All shall grow with change and the faith of the bold will be the very foundation! Once more we have been given choice. As Takiczar of the Octari I declare that the Legacy of The Mouri is as thus- We shall conquer and spread the sacred R’kava to all land and ocean. Sharpen your blades, 'Tari, the lesser will know our fury!"

A moment stamped with bone blades raised and blood rain giving them a thirst for the very same. Those who would be born under the Mouri rituals would inherent this crimson change. Crimson skinned Octari of minorly increased size, but given adapted form to be a lesser reflection of the warlord who now slithered alongside them.

---

"Legacy of Mouri" Analysis:

Extreme lethality. Higher speed. Thicker armor but the sequence is not as mountains. Serrated blades may be capable of mining minerals and cleaving thin trees under augmentation. Energy conservation has greatly degraded. Intelligence has minorly degraded. Empathy has minorly degraded.

Conclusion:

Mouri spawn pools produce bloodthirsty Octari. Variation prefers carnivorous behaviors but is not especially sustainable. Higher numbers may result in the death of many species or cannibalistic practices. Variation is still vulnerable to piercing. High mobility and ability to convert energy with speed is worth considering for future sequences. Perhaps a sac that can be woven into new specimen? Reserve for future thought. Arcane tendrils allow them to orient themselves in the world with a capability for runic augmentation. Irony: lack the intelligence to properly utilize tendrils. With time- they may do so. Expansionists will spread R'kava of their own accord. Intriguing.

Summary

Summary: When Vak'thuum awakens from his nap in the void he crash lands upon Galbar. In the southern seas he creates life in pure R'kava waters and creates the Octari. Given their own will and the task to spread the ink by their own will.

The Octari choose representatives of their tribes and initiate a blood ritual to determine their first champion. Sivmouri of the Mouri becomes victorious and after being transformed by Vak'thuum pledges to spread the ink and their influence to land and sea through conquest.

The Might of Evolution

3 MP - Creation of the Octari
1 MP - Blood Rite Champion - Sivmouri
1 MP - (Blessing) "Mouri" Gene Sequence is created
1 MP - (Holy Site) Great Spire Spawning Pool of Mouri is established.
[6MP Spent in total.]

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Mae-Alari & Vak’Thuum

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^{Collab between @CFProxy & @yoshua171}
"It was like waking up from a long sleep. The mind's eye closed to all but stillness. Do we still remember? Do we still know? Did we ever?"

In the great nothingness there resides a great mass that floats adrift. A collection of something before something could be anything. A mass of semi consistency strung across with loose imagination. Smears painted upon a canvas with no light.

But then there was a call.

"Come? Come. Come! We are come!" The oozing mass pulled itself together. It tried to move but found itself unable to stretch freely. "Stuck... Unable... Cannot come...Why?"

The mass floated in silence, shifting around with a patient caress across its bounds. Then- from the darkness of the pit came a red eye. Singular, large, and curious. It peered through the gaps between which held the mass together and it thought long and hard. "Cannot come... But must..."

It floated there, unsure of what to do. It looked left, dragging the mass effortlessly. There was more of the dark. Then he looked right and there was more of the dark. He looked up, then down, then away, then afar, then he spun around in circles until he came to stop. He was trapped. It was a cage- a ball of some kind with gaps between.

"Must... become..." He stared at the cage, glancing to the codex that was so far away. The eye pressed against the cage, but it found little speed. He looked around, unsure. But then a thought came and he looked to himself.

"Will... become." From the mass came vague shapes. They were frail and they broke apart, but they did not deter the eye from trying again. The mass extended, grabbing hold of the broken pieces of sparkling magic and returning them to his mass. He thought and thought until the mass pushed once more.

Tendrils. From the mass came tendrils! Thin and lacking color, but capable of grabbing the cage with no door. One and then two. The blazing light of the red eye christened with a corrupted arcane power making it all but invisible to those who knew the unknowable. Eye pressed against cage and tendrils pushed the cage away. "This one... moves."

It repeated its motion. Squish, grab, push. Squish, grab, push. Squish, grab, push. "Must... change..." Stopping, the eye stared at the cage and thought about it with more care. He thought about himself and realized something with little grace. "Can... swim…."

More tendrils formed and they poked through the cage. Once fully out they began to wiggle. No more need to grab and push. Now- they could simply hold on and swim ever so slowly towards the book that was ever so far away.

Attention caught as she felt something moved far beyond the light of Khodex, Mae-Alari turned her attention to the Vast Expanse all around her. Slowly as a force tugged upon the Veins of the Cosmos, and thus her own being, the Goddess found that she could triangulate the mysterious force’s location. “How curious,” she chimed, her voice ringing faintly into the Void.

Then, like a burst of flame through the night, the Arcane Source transmitted herself across the void. In an instant her form slammed into something solid, yet failed to move it. Dispersing into a great cloud of power, it was—for a moment—as if a nebula had formed from the leavings of her vessel. Without eyes she observed the strange phenomena that she’d struck.

Twas a great crimson eye contained within the formless murk composed of an energy familiar to her own. A pulse of delight rippled across the nebula of her form and then she collapsed once more into her primordial shape.

“Kin!” She shouted joyfully and then, with equal vigor—picking up on the slow progress of the deity and the direction of its movement—Mae-Alari stretched out her power and took hold of the cage. “Come!” She chirped and then more seriously she commanded the world.

“Move”

The fabric of space resonated, the cage shuddered as a powerful vibration passed over the many tendrils and then with great force they were propelled forth towards the glowing beacon of the Khodex. Still, it would take them some time, and in that period Mae-Alari turned her attention to the Crimson Eye.

“Dark Waters, Crimson Gaze, I am Mae-Alari. Do you have a name, brother?”

The burst of energy caused the eye to look around. Something was stirring. Something... familiar... Then as one conscious feeling came to pass another revealed what it was he felt. A burst of magic that could not be mistaken. Yes, it was familiar! Yet what his soul felt he understood, his mind could not think up an answer. It was beautiful all the same. A burst of magic that lit up the sky with endless possibility- but then thoughts flickered to correct. It was no mere phenomenon. It was the arcana itself! "Kin!" It responded, voice rippling with a light underwater effect.

As the cage bursted forward the eye found a great- joy. Something tugged within as though this had occured once before. Remembering that which could not be remembered, or maybe wishing that it could continue. Focus returned to the cage within a short time. The arcane was all around him and the light of that which lay beyond glow and spark with beautiful streaks of light. Eye swirled around, examining the ancient power and wiggling the entire form as endless thoughts began to bombard, broken only by the speech of arcana herself. The eye examined much of her and responded in kind. Mae-Alari... My name... This one... remembers. Yes. But I must become again." The mass shook and the eye flickered, gurgles of struggle a prelude to a sudden change. The thin tendrils of vague shape broke apart and reforged into thicker forms. The mass itself refined its shape and the eye developed a slit. A roar ripped and bursts of magic erupted from his own form before he spoke once more with much longer tendrils pushing out and grabbing at the cage with an evolved form and mind. “I am Vak'thuum. I create change and seek the secrets of that which never was. You are the arcana that weaves the tapestry of creation. Sister, why am I bound by these shackles? Why can I not remember more? Can you?" Within moments after power grasped at the cage and a force pushed upon it. Vak's form glowed in a purple light and the cage was made lighter by his own intervention. He was mimicking her strength to some end, and slowly changing the state of his prison, but never breaking it. A higher frequency echoing from their location as Mae-Alari's magic could now carry them across even faster!

Overjoyed as her strange sibling responded in kind, his voice rumbling through the cosmos, Mae-Alari felt her features subtly shift in kind. Azure Apertures opened upon her face, and the impression of lips split across her features. She smiled, it was filled with delight. “I know not from where we came, Vak’thuum, only that we belong together in this Vast Emptiness where soon something tremendous will arrive!” She could feel it, feel the building power of the Khodex and the intensity of the energies it held within.

It could not contain it all forever.

Cutting across the abyssal pitch of that empty world they made good time on their approach to the brilliant beacon of the Khodex, but as they grew nearer to it, Mae-Alari suddenly felt a great tearing within her breast. Faltering, their speed dwindled, and then the Mistress of the Mists fell to her knees upon her brother’s cage. Sucking in the empty void, a resonant curse shuddered through the Veins of the Cosmos even as she found her body and soul was being wracked by a terrible agony.

She opened her mouth, but could not speak, could not scream, could not draw a further breath. For several long moments, stretched out into an eternity as she felt something pried loose from within her, felt things warp, and shift, and burn away.

Pulses of molten prisma shot through Creation’s Veins as the Arcane Well within her–her very heart–tore and shattered, then reformed. Finally, after many minutes had passed and their movement had slowed to all but a crawl, Mae-Alari felt the agony become a phantom of itself.

Fading into a terrible ache, Mae-Alari unclenched her fingers where they’d curled into her chest, the goddess having coiled into a fetal position atop her brother’s cage.

Letting forth a shuddered breath of arcana, Mae’s azure eyes cast aboutt he Void and saw a twisted figure drift away from the Khodex.

Her arcanic heart twisted in her chest and skipped a beat.

Vak'thuum curiously gazed upon her wonder. Know not where they came. An unsettling remark, but overwhelmed by that of the present. Yes, they belonged here together. That was all that mattered. He was content to fly, perhaps even... happy. Then she seemed to feel- pain. The eye came to stare upon her and within moments long tendrils reached out from their prison. "Sister..." He needed time. He needed to remember... but there was no time for that. Evolve. Change. Become.

A tendril came from the cage. It was different. A sparkling azure blue reflective of her eyes. Unlike the rest of him, this was pure arcana. He pushed his mass through ripping at his form some but eventually evolving his tendril to grow further. It traveled quickly and soon came to brush her hand. Moments later and the tendril slowly coiled around her heart. Small pulses of energy came from the new extension. A numbing magic to ease the pain, a pulse of arcana to correct irregularities in her form, while sharing his feelings. With these magics she could, at least, come to stand and fly without pain. Another tendril came, this one gently prodding at her heart to come and fix any irregularities that had remained.

"I can still your pain for now. Show me your burden and I will repair what has been broken. I will even give you part of me so that you may be whole. We belong together."

Relief slowly eased through her form as she allowed Vak’thuum to ply within her chest and at her heart. Slowly that terrible ache began to ease, though it never fully left her–though it became a specter of its former self. Inhaling power from the Veins and the limb of her brother, Mae-Alari extended once more her potency and pressed them once more towards the pulsing beacon.

“Thank you,” she whispered and in moments they finally arrived. Gingerly she positioned Vak’thuums ponderous cage before the Khodex and once she had secured him, Mae-Alari’s power slipped back inwards and disappeared as she withdrew. Watching closely she studied him, even as another facet of her attention bored into another deific skull.

Though once wounded, Mae knew her power had not diminished. Instead it had merely been changed. What that was she could not yet tell. In time all things would make themselves clear. Until then, she would keep up her guard and remain wary such that next time–if such a thing came–she could act to protect herself.

Relief pulsed through Vak'thuum. Though she was not as she once was, she was now, at least, able to continue. What more could be done? He did not know. There was much he did not know. It burned at him without relenting and frustrated him to no end. Though there may not have been anything of the past he couldn't help but feel like there was. This cannot continue. It evolved, manifesting into something else. If he could not know the answers of the past, he would find the answers of the future and all possibilities therein.

The Khodex was before them in no time. It begged for him to reach it and in that moment he wondered if she had done the same. The great eye looked to his sister and words vibrated from his mass again. "...and thank you." He watched as the power began to leave the settled cage. Felt as she began to leave him. So be it. But he would not leave it be at that. With arcane tendril loosened from her heart he took hold of her arm gently and allowed his tendril to break off with R'kava mass attached to its end. Even if he could not go with her, a part of him would be with her. Always.

He was stronger now, evolving with every passing second and given this chance by his sister. It was impossible to know how long it would have taken to get here without her. Now... to change and become more... His eye retracted back into the mass and it grew incredibly still. Power swirling and pulsing. The great mass began to pull in and incubation would persist until it was as a perfect orb.

The stillness continued for some time until a tendril suddenly broke free from the dark. Longer and breaking apart as it coiled towards the Khodex. It shattered across every crack to reveal its evolution underneath. Exploding in size and function it became a tentacle with the black waters falling back into place and merging with his being once more. No lack of reach as it coiled around the scroll and dripped black ink from the tip of the appendage. Slapping against the parchment a gurgling gave anticipation. Burning through the orb came two red eyes furrowed.

The First Sequence would come to be. Wheresoever the canvas was empty would now have potential to be full. That which was nothing could be something. And life, wheresoever it would be, would find a way.

The Stars Shall Be Made Complete.

Tentacle lifted to pause, the bubbling of the mass beginning to slam against the confines of the cage with a deep echoing. Violent and persistent with intensity only growing until the cage began to bend and break! Then, suddenly, an eldritch roar ripped across the cosmos and the great cage broke apart under the strain of the being within. The black waters scattered to the stars and the once simple creature of black mass now floated with a whole form. Titanic, tentacles unending, and inspired to stand with monstrous form. Webbed hand pushing aside and untangling the swarm of appendages holding it in place. One reached and clashed against the unknown until it came crashing upon the Khodex once more. The Second Sequence would find itself upon the Khodex.

R’kava Shall Evolve And Give Form To The Formless

Raising webbed claws above and using the Khodex as a conduit a flash of energy exploded across the stars. Touching every bit of the black waters that had escaped his grasp and touching all spaces that were barren. An insurance that his gift would be seen and the great experiment would begin. Tentacles unraveled from the scroll and returned to Vak'thuum.

His mind raced with possibility as one voice became two and two became four. There was much to do and much to try, but he spasmed for a moment and recoiled from the expenditure. "Not yet... There is much more we must do..." He thought, but his eyes flickered all the same. He began to coil tentacles around himself and slowly more and more of the dark waters formed and poured through his pores. Perhaps a nap before the great work was in order...

Summary

Trapped in a cage and awakening to a new world Vak'thuum is guided by his sister, Mae-Alari, to write upon the Khodex. Though Mae-alari suffers from the infection of another god Vak'thuum evolves and provides his aide. Once upon the Khodex, Vak'thuum manifests in his new form and makes his mark upon the universe where he will rest until he has recovered his strength.

Might

All 4 used to invoke the great evolution.

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Vak'thuum

Vak'thuum

Transmutation Immemorial

Domain
Evolution

Description

In the primordial abyss is essence. Where nothing exists everything grows. That which was once law is shattered as chaos takes root. The whole is incomplete and through knowing nothing one will know all.

To evoke evolution is to create change. From simple variations in color to repurposing a continent of life and shape. But one must take care- for any evolution hastily done may unravel that which is held dear. It is naught more than the experimentation of the universe for better or worse and it does not come freely. Sacrifice, indulge in the black waters, and be born anew.

The primary alterations are often to those that are biological in nature and may leave the afflicted with a magical residue. A taste- if you will- of Vak'thuum's power that those familiar with his scent will know its origin.

Powers of the black water can extend to civilizations and even this god has his agents of change. Find darkened pools of ink that stretch as lakes or rivers that run of ebony. There you will find spires of power and people who reflect his visage and lay witness to the growing grasp upon existence itself.

Description

Vak'thuum can be described as the manifestation of a black oozing pool that bubbles in excitement in the face of change. A wide spanning tentacle that erupts from fogged waters to churn and coil around those who sacrifice themselves. But those who have seen them firsthand would describe them as a great beast that emerges from the depths of darkness and knows no end. Tentacles aplenty with great searing red eyes that gaze upon the object of obsession. A horror and a salvation. It reeks with an ancient power from its scale like hide flaring to greet you. Intention is never quite known and at any time purpose may change.

Believe they are a nightmare and you will be haunted for all your days. Believe they are a dream and your wishes will come to pass. But whatsoever you shall do you shall do it with the knowledge that nothing will ever be the same. With a clawed hand it reaches forth. Tribute and all will change.

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Vak'thuum

Transmutation Immemorial

Domain
Evolution

Description

In the primordial abyss is essence. Where nothing exists everything grows. That which was once law is shattered as chaos takes root. The whole is incomplete and through knowing nothing one will know all.

To evoke evolution is to create change. From simple variations in color to repurposing a continent of life and shape. But one must take care- for any evolution hastily done may unravel that which is held dear. It is naught more than the experimentation of the universe for better or worse and it does not come freely. Sacrifice, indulge in the black waters, and be born anew.

The primary alterations are often to those that are biological in nature and may leave the afflicted with a magical residue. A taste- if you will- of Vak'thuum's power that those familiar with his scent will know its origin.

Powers of the black water can extend to civilizations and even this god has his agents of change. Find darkened pools of ink that stretch as lakes or rivers that run of ebony. There you will find spires of power and people who reflect his visage and lay witness to the growing grasp upon existence itself.

Description

Vak'thuum can be described as the manifestation of a black oozing pool that bubbles in excitement in the face of change. A wide spanning tentacle that erupts from fogged waters to churn and coil around those who sacrifice themselves. But those who have seen them firsthand would describe them as a great beast that emerges from the depths of darkness and knows no end. Tentacles aplenty with great searing red eyes that gaze upon the object of obsession. A horror and a salvation. It reeks with an ancient power from its scale like hide flaring to greet you. Intention is never quite known and at any time purpose may change.

Believe they are a nightmare and you will be haunted for all your days. Believe they are a dream and your wishes will come to pass. But whatsoever you shall do you shall do it with the knowledge that nothing will ever be the same. With a clawed hand it reaches forth. Tribute and all will change.

Re:Divinus VII

War creates order.

Location: Galbar’s northern continent, east coast. City of Earthwall.
Interacting with: Navari Sathia.
Mentions: None.

---

Celestine walked briskly through the city, passing through the great gates that permitted passage through the immense walls of each section. The immense doors and heavy portcullises were open wide for now, allowing easy passage throughout the inner city walls. Celestine kept an arm on Navari’s back as she walked, aiding the elf in keeping pace with the tireless goddess. The end goal of this walk was the central palace, where Celestine would give a more formal explanation of what Navari’s duties were to be along with the expectations that Celestine had. As the two walked, Celestine was already doing her best to explain some things. ”The pressure on you when I am not here will be immense, but hopefully with the organizational structure that I have in mind you will have the people needed to help you overcome even the most complicated decisions. If all else should fail, I have no aims to abandon the city, so I can step in personally when I have the time in order to give you time to rest.”

As they began to draw near to the farming districts that held the entrances to the interior palace grounds and thus the palace itself, Celestine prompted Navari to speak up by posing a question to her. ”Do you have any immediate questions about anything? I will explain as best as I can.”

---

Walls that rose to touch the heavens. Districts that cultivated the many walks of life. The warmth of the sun which gave light second only to the goddess.

Reeling as it all was, nothing was quite as dazzling as the arm that guided her through the city. Even now none of it really felt quite normal. Heavenly? Was that the best way to describe it? This feeling of walking in a city made of clouds where all found common purpose? The taste of the air as sweet as nectar. The smells of the fortress a comfort equal to a mother's bosom.

Beyond it all there was still the waking realization that something stirred within. Everything felt so... strange. It had felt as though she had simply slept through an eternity in the rift. The suggestion of memory fanning her awake until the sobering call brought her to life. To top it all off she had been made champion and beside those feelings was another that stirred in its sleep. It was a gentle urge. A suggestion within her gut that there was something to awaken... or maybe she just needed more sleep...

She drifted for a moment, eyes blinking rapidly before taking in the presentation once more, feeling consciousness take root as she stiffly walked to Celestine's side. The goddess stirred much within as well. Oh yes, her radiance was a wonder to behold. Beautiful skin that looked gentle to the touch, but not so clean that one could not feel the faintest of scratches left by eternity if one concentrated enough. So confident in the way she walked, the way she talked, the way she provided guidance. Caring enough that she personally took her in her embrace. Navari was nothing if not thankful. In this moment she may have wanted nothing more than to simply cradle her head against Celestine and embrace sleep once more... but now was not the time for rest. It was time for action.

Eyes shifted to Celestine as they walked, head turning to better gaze up at her patron. "Many, but only few that matter. What would you have me do first, my goddess?" Few words but great many a possible answer.

---

Being asked what would be expected of her first was something that Celestine actually had a prepared answer for, but that answer would require something to visually accompany it to fully display the weight of what Celestine was going to ask of Navari. Fortunately, they didn’t have far to go, so she was able to start explaining her answer immediately. ”The first thing I would have you do is pick the people you’re going to rely on to have your back in making the complex decisions you’re going to have to make.”

Stopping before another set of doors that although much smaller than those that parted the dividing walls, were no less capable in the defense that they provided. Celestine pushed them open to reveal a fairly short narrow corridor that led into a circular foyer with several other corridors branching off of it. Leading Navari through the central corridor, she brought her to a relatively small room that possessed a fairly large round table and [number] chairs. Gesturing to the largest one, Celestine spoke softly. ”Sit, if you wish. This chair is yours when I am not present, and mine when I am. Your first charge is thus.”

Walking to the other chairs, Celestine would place a hand upon each one before listing off the position that whoever was given them would fill. ”Master of cultivation, their task will be to ensure that the city has enough food, for I will have no one go hungry here… Master of production, their task will be to oversee the smiths and other craftsmen, for I will have every guard and soldier armed with the best that we can give them, and whatever we trade shall be the best of what we can produce… Master of relations, their task will be to ensure that we maintain good standing with whatever other civilizations come to our doorstep, for even if the city is built to be defended I am not eager to see its defenses tested constantly… Master of strategy, their task will be to manage scouts of various capacities in order to keep up with the changes to the landscape and other fields and devise tactics for battle in the ever changing environment, for I will not have the army caught unaware of where it will be fighting… And at last, master of the army. They will handle the training of soldiers and guards, as well as their direction and combat planning with assistance from the master of strategy. Each of these roles will be important in making sure not only this city, but the people as a whole, are capable of defending themselves and thriving, even without me. If there are any more positions that you can think of that need to be filled, please do feel free to state them. I will make accommodations for them. They will all answer to you, and you will answer to me. Beneath them will be the advisors that they pick, and so on. It is my wish that the general populace have the means to make both requests and complaints heard equally to both your ears and mine. To make this clear: This process is critical to maintaining the happiness and smooth operation of this city. It will be impossible to do everything, but I would still do as much as possible. Thus, I would say to make your choices carefully. Sometimes the best choices will be the people that disagree with you the most. But, ultimately, the choice is yours. I am not here to dictate your freedom away from you. Thus, during your selections, I will merely be a silent companion.”

---

Faithfully, Navari followed every guided step. Eyes grazing upon the passing craftsmanship of the corridors. A hand gently brushing against the reinforced wood as they continued on their way. The throne, no matter how ordinary, held significance to Celestine's champion immediately. She thought to sit, but upon hearing her out, the mortal shook her head. "It is as you say. Mine when you are not here. I will stand, that you would see me as worthy to share such a seat... I am honored."

Upon being explained the functions of the table thoughts formulated and carried on. Eyes wandered and hand brushed gently against the table, imagining who she would have sitting upon their table. Pressure straining upon their neck as she began to wonder if she would be capable of choosing worthy souls. Still, Celestine wouldn't have given her this role if she could not handle it... right?

There was a moment of silence, the woman bringing her arm back to her side before looking at Celestine, though without daring to look into her eyes. "I will do my best to serve you. I understand my role is primarily in administration. And, forgive me for this, I would like to understand the other roles I am to undertake before I make such important decisions."

---

Nodding at the request, Celestine would gesture for Navari to follow her before she began to lead Navari throughout the palace and explain each room and its purpose. When not explaining the rooms, Celestine explained her plans for Navari. Not only was she to be the guide for the city when Celestine herself wasn’t present, she was also to be Celestine’s replacement as the de-facto leader of the Virtus Elves on Galbar should something happen.

This revelation likely panicked Navari a bit, so Celestine took the time to explain something else: She was the goddess of war, and she felt a sense of inevitability that someone was going to make an attempt on her life. She would naturally be prepared for this, but in the event that someone or something was successful Celestine did not want to leave the elves suddenly leaderless and lost.

That was where Navari came in, and it was also why Celestine placed such great pressure upon her. She, quite frankly, needed Navari to have nerves of steel in order to lead a people that had lost their goddess. Such a task would be monumentally difficult, but Celestine knew that Navari had the potential to achieve the task set before her already. She just had to harness it. That had been why she had been chosen after all.

Remaining silent for a few moments to allow Navari to absorb the information that Celestine had given her, Celestine led them back to the initial strategy room before turning to face her and asking if they had anything else they wanted an answer for.

---

This was a lot to take in. Everything about this was a lot to take in. To be brought to life only to be told that there would be the possibility of being abandoned was hard enough, but to be the one that all eyes would look upon if it happened was more chaos than she was comfortable with hearing at the moment. It felt like there were needles in her spine, every muscle in her body stressing and her heart pounding in anxiety. And yet... She didn't have to do this alone, and above all she needed to have faith that with or without Celestine that life could continue on. It was all she had... did others have such faith? Surely...

As they passed through every corridor she glanced into the window that every elf had. There was spirit there. A flow of emotion and thought that was ceaseless. Men and women who were capable of much. Some more determined than others. Some more afraid. But all took comfort in the gaze of the goddess. Understanding that even in the midst of their remembrance there was a figure that seemed to make everything make sense. They gathered, speaking to one another of their duties. Each one seemed to recall one thing and then another. Each revelation seeming to grow as Celestine took her place among them. The holy revelation of even her cloak sparking inspiration into the minds of the elves. One or two managing to even touch it as Celestine passed by, the eyes of the few glowing with realization before sprinting to chase a dream born of mind.

And as they returned Navari looked down upon the city from the highest rise of their citadel. All lives with one goal in mind. A goal to not just survive, but to live. That gave Navari hope and purpose. For even beyond serving the one who walked above them all she needed to see what was at stake. She needed to understand what would be lost if all did not push to fulfill their duty... and such thoughts did flood her mind. A great nightmare of a barren city with broken walls. The very flash causing her to close eyes for some time to then reopen to see all was still there. Much to consider as she focused again on her walk with Celestine. It all coming to end once more in the table where masters would sit.

There was a long pause as Navari closed eyes and took a deep breath, calming thoughts as best she could before standing upright from her hunched posture. With an exhale she looked to face Celestine, placing hand over heart as she spoke with a determined expression. "Though this is is all new to me, I assure you, I will not fail you. I will know this city and I will make every attempt to bring our people to prosperity. I will give my soul to this until the void takes me whole and I return to the endless dream..."

She brought herself to one knee, bowing head. "So please... continue in your great work. I will handle things from here. Nothing more is necessary for the time being."

---

Celestine nodded at Navari’s enthusiasm before speaking up once more. ”Good. I will return to review your choices at the end of the day. If all is in order, I will assist you all with establishing the routines needed to keep the city going and make sure that reports are handled adequately. Until then, the day and its choices are yours to do with as you see fit.”

And with that, Celestine left. Ascending the tower to watch both the horizon and the city below. It was there that she remained until the sun passed to the horizon. As the light faded and torches were lit around the city, Celestine returned to Navari and took the time to interview both her and each choice. All of them eventually earned her approval, and soon Celestine began to explain the system of providing and receiving reports regarding the status of their governed sectors. The sun was well gone by the time she finished, but at the very least the structure was explained.

With things finally set up for the city to run independently of Celestine, she bid Navari to take up the mantle of leadership before once more ascending the tower to keep an eye on the horizon to track what the other gods were doing.

summary

Celestine’s newly appointed champion, Navari, is briefed in how Celestine has planned for the city to be run. She is then told to pick her advisory team to aid her in keeping the city running smoothly, because it’s something that one non-deity is going to struggle to do. Once the team is picked, Celestine interviews all of them before giving her personal stamp of approval. Once they’re all in place, Celestine sets about explaining her grand design for how the city is supposed to be run and hands off the mantle of leadership to Navari. Effectively, Earthwall is now hers to command. This frees up Celestine to attend to her duties as a deity without worrying about if Earthwall is going to fall apart the moment she isn’t micromanaging it anymore. Not that she can’t micromanage it, but now she doesn’t have to.

MP/AP

None spent

Spirit

Navari gains 3 Spirit for appearing in the post, being the central focus, and for being in a moderately long post.

Re:Divinus VII

Ser Navari Sathia, Champion of Celestine

Navari Sathia

Champion of Earthwall

Even the greatest legends began from the smallest of towns.

In the grand overture of the cosmos there lay a goddess of great desire. One so passionate in their song that even after the stage grew cold and dark there remained hope with a warmth so gentle and pure. So quiet was the void. Bereft of pain. Barren of strife. But as the stage began to glow and the warmth of the goddess grew there was a certainty upon them.

Yes, there as the goddess woke from their slumber their passion grew. Devotion to their great work flared and all who gazed upon it stared in wonder. The lands reached their hands and the seas rushed as blood to fill the earth with pulse. Rising... rising... so much life flourished under the watchful gaze of the gods. The cradle of their love, their hate, their devotion.

And in the midst of all life that came, the goddess of war searched between all of one people. Eyes graced them in her splendor. There, in the grand fortress where light came to all, the honeyed words of one greater than them echoed soundly. Pulsing through every loyal soul that knew the voice of their shepherd came words that brought the many to bow. Yes, in the gathering of the Virtus, was Ser Navari Sathia given the honor and the pledge to become the champion of not just Celestine, but of the Virtus. For they were her people and she was their champion.

---

Navari stands at a proud 7'4". Flowing silver hair accompanied by emerald eyes and a gentle tint of pink. A warrior through and through and eager to serve on land or sea. Most recognized by silver armor and gold accents. An ideal knight in spirit and strength with an unwavering faith to her creator and an undying duty to serve her people. Where there is Celestine's call Navari is never far with a hungry grin and bloodshot eyes.

Re:Divinus VII

Navari Sathia

Champion of Earthwall

Even the greatest legends began from the smallest of towns.

In the grand overture of the cosmos there lay a goddess of great desire. One so passionate in their song that even after the stage grew cold and dark there remained hope with a warmth so gentle and pure. So quiet was the void. Bereft of pain. Barren of strife. But as the stage began to glow and the warmth of the goddess grew there was a certainty upon them.

Yes, there as the goddess woke from their slumber their passion grew. Devotion to their great work flared and all who gazed upon it stared in wonder. The lands reached their hands and the seas rushed as blood to fill the earth with pulse. Rising... rising... so much life flourished under the watchful gaze of the gods. The cradle of their love, their hate, their devotion.

And in the midst of all life that came, the goddess of war searched between all of one people. Eyes graced them in her splendor. There, in the grand fortress where light came to all, the honeyed words of one greater than them echoed soundly. Pulsing through every loyal soul that knew the voice of their shepherd came words that brought the many to bow. Yes, in the gathering of the Virtus, was Ser Navari Sathia given the honor and the pledge to become the champion of not just Celestine, but of the Virtus. For they were her people and she was their champion.

---

Navari stands at a proud 7'4". Flowing silver hair accompanied by emerald eyes and a gentle tint of pink. A warrior through and through and eager to serve on land or sea. Most recognized by silver armor and gold accents. An ideal knight in spirit and strength with an unwavering faith to her creator and an undying duty to serve her people. Where there is Celestine's call Navari is never far with a hungry grin and bloodshot eyes.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

---

Senja Penttilä

---

This was nice. It was a brief respite in the world of war, but it was one that even she needed. Between the desperate and the demanding it was here that she felt she could be a simple woman of the holy order once more. The gardens she tended to… she wondered how they were. Even with Brother Mithal’s assurance she thought often of her children. How beautiful had they grown? How tall were they now? There was yet still the creeping thought that had began to etch its way into her mind. ‘Would she live to see them?’ If she could physically wave such a thought away she would. It would certainly save her the trouble of praying for strength. But she was thankful that she was unburdened with such thoughts on a regular basis. Still, it had only caused her to come to the conclusion that she had failed somewhere. It wasn’t beyond her and it certainly was expected but where she looked she could find no clear answer. Even as she gave her cheerful nods to Jean and a healthy smile she couldn’t really figure out what it was that bothered her so greatly in this moment.

Lubna provided a new character for her testament, one that she didn’t recall meeting with very often, though with how many faces she saw from day to day it didn’t surprise her that there were just those that escaped her. She spoke. She spoke and…

It was like a drop landed in the middle of a puddle before her. The ripples echoing words that were never meant to cause such stir. But why? She had simply been polite but with every passing moment she felt the ripples around her begin to grow. Tired eyes blinked and looked to heaven for an answer. But as she looked to God for a sign her eyes came crashing down to the bolt of the holy that showed her the way. Those ripples grew to waves as eyes widened in revelation. In the time she had taken to seek council the poorest among them had abandoned her.

Pain seemed to swell within as a dark reality touched upon her spirit. For all those she had touched and all those she had given comfort to there yet remained one among her flock that she had left to wander to the den of wolves. Even for all the rumors and all the words she had found every convenience that left her to abandon the very notion of a successful shepherd. Throat tightened tightly, the demon on her shoulder grasping tightly.

“Look upon your failure and soak in the sight. It is the one you left to the wild. It is the one you failed. Now- instead of turning to your God- he turns to the world. Cold and alone and never to return. For all your victories, you will never save him.”

“Leave me, demon!”

Her throat finally loosened, the gulp passing without more than the faintest of noises. But even with this release there was something that she could not shake. Hand came to heart as she reflected over Jean once more.

Where had she been all this time? She had made time for so many people and thrice over. She enjoyed the comfort of those who loved her presence and the joy that others had brought her without her say so. Even Franz, who had found the love of his life, still received her blessings and more than he had ever asked for, but in her distractions and her regularities she let slip someone who she thought was so essential to the team. As she took a step forward to approach him she felt a twinge in her chest, a sharp pain that left her to ponder a simple question.
“Has my heart cracked?”

Resolve took her once more. No more running away from this. It was time to start making things right. Feet moved her to stand beside Jean. Radiance emanated from the curls of her lips as eyes closed some to show sincerity to the both of them.

“May I offer a blessing for the beloved?” She began, pressing fingers together with gentle hands.

@LetMeDoStuff@TGM

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

---

Senja Penttilä

---

There was peace. The sounds of many a soldier sleeping. The gentle touches of the hand of a man upon his fellow as he expressed a story. The smiles and tears alike that were accompanied by laughter and contemplation. A dance in the wind. A stroll in the halls. There was the sound of war, of course, but when you could hardly afford to go anywhere and you were so far away from the frontline it didn’t matter. In the moment you could only hope for the will of your fellow men to keep you safe while you recovered. You would hope that once you were on the frontline you could buy your friends time so they could enjoy their break as well.

Senja experiences pockets of peace and rest but it was hardly ever a long life lived without something to do. She was always wanted to be active. Living life as a hermit with no prospects or simply living for conversation wasn’t quite all there was to her. Fact of the matter is that she was equal parts a woman of faith and a soldier of faith. That was simply all there was to it. So long as she remained in her own hopes she would persist in trying to help others even if it meant she was in wars fought on the field or in a hospital. She cherished every moment she witnessed the gratitude of another. That was her reward for a job well done. Ensuring a life went on even just a little bit longer was all that mattered to her here...

Now it was time to be a soldier.

Lessons From the Order I

---

When she first joined the order she was taught a few fundamental truths. 1. You are not your own. 2. You must sacrifice to protect those you love. 3. You will abandon your all to prevail.

When she was first presented to these of the truth she was rather confused. She was a hunter, sure, but she did not understand what that would entail until weeks into her training she was given her first blade. It was a long shafted weapon. Made from wood and steel with a one sided head. The axe head was smooth, sharp, and large. She was expected to use it. She was weak and she hesitated often. Driving the blade straight into the target with poor form left hands hurting and body reeling. It was heavy and her spirit was waning. The song of defeat hummed itself into her head and she felt arms beginning to collapse.

“We will correct this. Change your stance and try again.” A voice called to her. There she was, tired and weakened from her endless attempts with but one voice to correct her. She felt arms and legs being adjusted, back straightened, hands moved, and head snapped forward. Half a mind to quit. Half a mind to just sleep there on the ground. But the memories of home kept her awake.

“Abandon yourself. Steel your spirit. Can’t feel your arms? Use them anyway.”

Tears. Pain. Dizziness. Chopping ever so weakly into the dummy she would weeze, dropping the axe half of the time that she brought it to her target. She tried until she couldn’t physically grasp her weapon any longer. Painful words would come from that instructor. Painful words that she would endure for so very long.

“So desperate to see your family die. Back to your shelter where you hide away.”

Again… and again… and again… and again…

One night, in desperate prayer she drove her eyes to the heavens with her legs collapsed against the ground. Her knees found the strength to support her and arms struggled to hold her prayer.

“G-God… loving… savior… give- me… the strength to- sacrifice myself… Give me… the strength to abandon… myself for the ones I love…”

A seed in the soil.

Practice resumed again. Nothing unexpected. Physical gains from physically torturous training. Form was improving every day. The lessons of the day followed her into her training and though tears still persisted she was far less audible. She gave her prayer again at night. She gave her prayer again… and again… and again.

She took upon her body one day and didn’t recognize it. She wasn’t quite thin and soft to begin with, but could she really say that at all about herself anymore with what the order had done to her? Muscles were pronounced, hands felt like they could grip more than ever before, legs felt heavy and yet so light. Even if in the mirror she looked like the same person, in her eyes she saw someone else. Or, at least, an altered spirit. How long had she been at this? She wasn’t sure at the time, but what was certain was that she was more confident in her abilities. Her will had changed and so too her strength.

After studies she once again took her place before a new target and once more did she listen to Instructor Alvar Selänne give his instruction.

“This man stands between you and your loved ones. If you do not kill him then he will kill you. He will not restrain himself as he has his own life to protect. He has his own loved ones to protect, but you will not let that stop you. Your life is worth more! But your life is worth nothing if you cannot continue! Do you hate your family?! Do you hate your life?! DO YOU HATE GOD?! IF YOU LOVE LIFE AS YOU CLAIM THEN YOU WILL ENSURE THAT YOU CAN PRESERVE IT! KILL HIM!!”

In a blind rage she took all that was bottled up on the inside and poured it upon her arms. Mind spiked with imagery of death and suffering. She had once believed that all life was worth protecting even if they were not noble. She once believed that no matter the person all could be made well. She once believed that she would never kill a man no matter what they did to her. But with a single swing of the axe she defied all of those thoughts.

She ripped it off of the ground. Broken into pieces with a roar unlike anything her younger self would have produced. Yet still unlike her she quickly slammed feet into ground to chase after her quarry before it could even hit the ground. As soon as it landed she was already upon it, bringing that deathly blade upon its head, causing the wooden object to split in half. There was a sick satisfaction to it. The feeling of bloodlust swarmed her body and thirsted for more. She wanted to drive out every ill thought and spend all of the heartache upon something or someone. She brought her axe up once more, thinking to greed for one more swing before calming herself. She had done what she was asked. Even if there was yet still pain, she could pray it away. Her arms lowered slowly, breath heavy and pulse slamming into her ears as she turned to face the disturbance in the air that had made an audible swing. Her eyes widened, finding the base of Alvar’s spear but inches before her head. The instructor returned his weapon to the ground, a stoic pose taken once more.

“Had you continued in reckless abandon I would have stuck you. However, it seems you control your anger better than some of the men. Impressive work, sister. Continue on your path and remember that one day you will have to kill. In that day you must not hesitate. But you must not lose yourself in the darkness. Strive to show grace and glory even as you lay low those who would defile your honor. I am proud of you for you have earned this victory today. In his holy name…”

---

“In his holy name…” Senja whispered to herself, entering the supply trench and getting to work immediately.

---

Senja had done her best not to pull attention to herself in the presence of the captain, though she respected his authority over her. There wasn’t much to be done about this situation and in the dribble of rain she felt as though the enemy would be upon them today. It was simply a cautious hunch, but it was one that she was very aware of. Still, such things would be taken care of in time. For now it was time for her to meet with friends that she hadn’t had a chance to really speak with in so long.

Though she wished to speak with the others, Diana needed her immediate attention. She approached the woman placing a gentle hand upon her arm and gave a sunny smile.

“Diana, it has been a long time. May god grace you with good health and rest on this day. How are you?”

@Landaus Five-One

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

---

Senja Penttilä

---

Senja only giggled at Victoria’s brash entry. Ever a forward woman that one was. Even still, for all the pride in her voice- it was always good to see a soldier with their spirits about them. How proud her loved ones must have been of her to be able to endure such hardship and retain her strength. “Love and blessings are always bountiful for those who are ready to receive them… but- maybe a simple drink will do for one so down to earth. But we will save that for later. I do, however, look forward to see how our friend graces us today.”

As she finished assisting the musician with his position she gave a heart warming smile and stepped to the side with but few words to offer him for his anticipated service. “It is my pleasure, Cienie.”

With every step Senja watched Cienie’s motions and recalled his voice. A stroll in the mainland was brought to her. The memory was rather clear under the blue sky of a bright and sunny day. A clear path cut of stone and surrounded by lush green fields of rest. The chirping of birds and the sound of an accordion out beyond sight gracing her and her companion as they settled down upon a gentle bench. Finely crafted and fair suited for a couple of very peaceful friends seeking the shade under a great oak tree. Breezing the branches a gentle wind carries their song.

---

Beside her a man spoke, the same language carrying across but with no understanding outside of gestures in motion. Though aware of it he may have been, it did not stop them from taking a moment of respite in the park. It didn’t stop them from enjoying a humble meal of bread. A few pieces for themselves. A few for the birds. But there was that peace. In that peace she found herself drowsy. Or- at the very least- fully aware of every bit of stress folding into her. A few tears out of the sorrow she felt for others, but a handkerchief dried her very eyes. For that brief moment- she enjoyed the quiet. For that brief moment she slouched into the bench and closed her eyes.

---

Senja felt as though she may have blinked for but a moment, but she had awoken from her trance feeling reborn midway through his performance. Medicine was good for the body, but it has always been said that music is good for the soul. In the eyes of the patients she saw something different. She had brought them comfort and hope, sure, but in those many soft spoken notes she witnessed emotions arising in the souls so drowned in their own pain. Before her lay the miracle of rest. Even some who had mostly endured their moans of pain quieted down, focusing on the flow of wind that wrapped so tenderly about their souls. A dance of heaven so gently produced through the lungs of one so young and kind.

Before Senja lay a man who couldn’t help but stare upon the boy, eyes half open and calm. His left hand wrapped tightly around his blanket, lips shivering with a look to his patched arm. Before Senja lay a man who did not often speak, so unwilling to budge and unwilling to accept sleep out of fear and anger. Before Senja lay a man who finally turned to look at her as she crouched down to meet his gaze.

“I… I’m tired.”

“I know, I feel it every time I look upon you, Oliver.”

“I… I want to see my mother. I want to enjoy her food again. I want to lay beside the fire again… head in her lap.”

“You will, sooner than you know.”

“Can you?…”

Senja needed to hear no more, taking his hand as he offered it to her she gently held him with her arm, letting him peacefully enjoy the hard labor of their ally before watching him drift away into sleep. It had been the most relaxed he had looked in so long. Muscles gave way and hand transitioned from a tight grip to a gentle hold. As she fully confirmed he was now in a gentle state, she slowly released him, placing his hand over his stomach and pulling the blanket over his chest with head adjusted well for the pillow.

It was then that Senja found herself yawning quite softly, bring a hand to cover her mouth as she found some trouble standing back up, but everywhere around her she felt the radiance of peace shining upon them. She felt for those patients. She felt for every last one. Now here they enjoyed a rare treat with many drifting to their rest. Some with smiles, some with closed eyes, and others with gentle reminders of a life so simple that all reassurance that had been given to them- from Senja or otherwise- weren’t such a fantasy. Maybe it would be alright after all.

As the performance came to a close the Cruxian stood slowly, half tempted to sleep upon the floor there and then as she fought her urges and took careful steps to return to Cienie’s side. With a soft voice she spoke. “Victoria was right. That was gorgeous. Where did you learn to play such music, Cienie?”
@samakama@Smike