Form At the core of Anak’thas is a brightly lit lantern. It is held by a more humanoid creature. While this figure is still a part of him, wounding it would not kill him. This form - his Aspect of Guiding Light as he calls it – is faceless. Instead of a face, he has a hole with a mote of divine light shining from it. The wispy robes he wears hide the lower section of this form. He leaves no footmarks. Instead, the lowest-hanging robes seemingly float over the ground.
Personality On the surface, one could say that Anak’thas is a power-hungry control freak. There is, however, nuance to his obsession. While he is obsessed with control, he remains open to the idea that – for now – there are forces outside his control. Instead of absolute subjugation of these forces, he will prefer to initially find a way to incorporate them into his Perfect Order. In essence, he will resort first to control through assimilation. Not subjugation (though of course, when assimilation is not an option subjugation will be). Furthermore, he craves power only to further his Perfect Order, which ultimately comes to the betterment of everyone (or so he chooses to believe).
Will Will of Perfect Order. Anak’thas believes that only ultimate order can stave off doom and bring true prosperity. But to achieve this ultimate order every object in existence needs to understand and accept its place in this ultimate order. He thus values obedience and duty above all else. Through this obedience and dutifulness, he strives to deliver every measure of prosperity. He does not abhor creativity but believes it is a force that must be closely monitored. For a wrongful but hopeful idea can sunder the prosperous order he strives to create. His true opposite is anarchy and lawlessness.
Form At the core of Anak’thas is a brightly lit lantern. It is held by a more humanoid creature. While this figure is still a part of him, wounding it would not kill him. This form - his Aspect of Guiding Light as he calls it – is faceless. Instead of a face, he has a hole with a mote of divine light shining from it. The wispy robes he wears hide the lower section of this form. He leaves no footmarks. Instead, the lowest-hanging robes seemingly float over the ground.
Personality On the surface, one could say that Anak’thas is a power-hungry control freak. There is, however, nuance to his obsession. While he is obsessed with control, he remains open to the idea that – for now – there are forces outside his control. Instead of absolute subjugation of these forces, he will prefer to initially find a way to incorporate them into his Perfect Order. In essence, he will resort first to control through assimilation. Not subjugation (though of course, when assimilation is not an option subjugation will be). Furthermore, he craves power only to further his Perfect Order, which ultimately comes to the betterment of everyone (or so he chooses to believe).
Will Will of Perfect Order. Anak’thas believes that only ultimate order can stave off doom and bring true prosperity. But to achieve this ultimate order every object in existence needs to understand and accept its place in this ultimate order. He thus values obedience and duty above all else. Through this obedience and dutifulness, he strives to deliver every measure of prosperity. He does not abhor creativity but believes it is a force that must be closely monitored. For a wrongful but hopeful idea can sunder the prosperous order he strives to create. His true opposite is anarchy and lawlessness.
“AHA!” Farwaen roared triumphantly, his hands groping a nearby tree. He was still blindfolded, and only wore a big smile — naked as can be. This didn’t stop him from his victory as he slapped the tree with a final word. “Tis but a tree!”
“Yes… I know… they’re all trees…” Hafface’s annoyed voice came from the blackness, somewhere behind him. “They’ve ALL been trees.”
“Yes indeed my daring damsel, but one of these trees happens to be THE tree, and I’d be remiss not to check each one!”
Another groan. “Each one?”
A jumping laugh broke from Farwaen as he stepped forward blindly. “Each and every one!”
They’ve been checking trees for hours now. Most of the trees bore regular fruits which only satisfied the stomach.
But with a blink, it happened. An idea, born from pure instinct, bubbled up in Farwaen’s mind. He had no reason to know it, there was no logical explanation for it, but suddenly He knew in which direction they could find the tree. His smile curled, his silence causing Hafface to suddenly stop behind him. Swinging a hand behind him blindly, slapping Hafface a few times in the process, Farwaen let out a chuckle.
“I think I know where to go.”
“Oh please let this be the end,” Hafface answered.
They chased the instinctual trail and in almost no time both of them found what they were looking for. As if they’ve been walking in circles for hours only to now stumble upon it. Before them stretched a clearing as Nimueh had described it. The canopy opened up revealing a sole tree basking in the middle of the light. Its fruit looked purple and strange and Farwaen knew, without any doubt, that this was the tree they’ve been looking for.
“Wait, how did you know they were purple?” Hafface asked, Farwaen not realizing he had been thinking out loud. He coughed and Hafface growled.
“Were you peeking this entire time?”
“Hark! Tis the tree we have been looking for, my dutiful squire!” Farwaen ripped the blindfold off and stood proudly in front of the tree, fists on his hips and stance wide. He sucked in a breath of the breezy forest and puffed out his chest. “Pray tell, oh wild tree of mystery, speak to us of your noble lady.”
First there was silence, and then a lone cricket started chirping. Hafface slapped her face and pushed Farwaen forward. “You have to eat the fruit, you idiot!”
“Ah yes…” Farwaen’s smile faltered as he pedaled forward to the tree. Once there he reached up slowly, fingers tapping one of the fruits. He retracted his hand and poked a different fruit, a thoughtful hum rumbling in his throat.
“For all that is good, are you really checking each one?” Hafface swore. Farwaen snuck a smile over his shoulder.
“The first one was bruised.”
“Move aside!” Hafface burst past Farwaen, the man desperately using his hands to censor his view. The elf, however, only gave him a frustrated look before ripping two fruits from the tree, slamming one into his mouth and taking a rigorous bite of the other herself. Farwaen closed his eyes and let his teeth sink into the fruit, taking a healthy portion into his mouth. He wiggled his nose, tasting the strange fruit and then swallowed.
When both of them opened their eyes they weren’t in the forest anymore. Instead, they found themselves in a verdant, serene field. A small creek, crystal clear creek ran through the field, and sitting beside it was a green fox.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” The fox said, though both of them knew that a goddess was talking to them. “You wish to talk?”
“I sure hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long, my venerated vulpis.” Farwaen lent himself to one knee and tipped his head, one hand flourished outward with the other cupped the space between his forehead and his raised knee. “But lo, I do indeed seek an audience with you, Queen of the Wood.”
“Stand, Eidolon.” The fox said.“And speak your mind.” Even though it spoke towards Farwaen, it was looking at Hafface. Or – judging from the intensity of the gaze – looking through her.
“Very well!” Farwaen stood tall. “I have braved your wilds in nothing but my own skin as per the request of thine own prophet — and I’m here to…”
Hafface prodded Farwaen in the back and he cleared his throat. “Right, I’m here to request the release of the violent curse set upon the forest the elves rely on.”
“The violent curse they suffer because they refuse to abide by the laws of my domain?” The fox asked as it stood up. “The violent curse they suffer because they refused to listen to a blessed one of their own? The violent curse they suffer because they believe themselves superior above all but their so-called Lady?” The eyes of the fox began to burn and glow with rage. Though her voice didn’t reflect it.
“Tell me, Farwaen. Why should I lift a curse that the elves so readily deserve?”
"Because, my dear Lady, tis but the nice thing to do!" Farwaen tipped his head. "Take them unto thy benevolent bosom and show with example the possibility of coexistence and mutual respect to both party's desires."
“The nice thing to do?” A chuckle slipped from the fox. “I don’t think you understand to whom you are talking to, Eidolon. When a lion catches a newborn gazelle, should he leave it alive because it is the nice thing to do? No. He will eat it. Like nature, I am not benevolent. And yet despite all that I have made an attempt to offer coexistence.” It locked eyes with Hafface, who was standing behind Farwaen now.
“I’ve sent Nimueh. One of your own. One who I gave understanding. And when she went to talk to the other elves she was ridiculed and shouted out. Still, she lives banished. Still, she is talked about as if she is some hag that must be avoided at all times.” The land on the other side of the creek shimmered and shifted into the shape of Masol’s Blackstone. It showed Nimueh pleading with Masol and Masol verbally putting her down. Until the crowd started chanting and Nimueh fled.
“You wish for a second chance for the elves. I am willing to give it but for a price. Are you sure you are willing to bind yourself to this, Farwaen of the Eidolon?”
“Alas, I have little choice.” Farwaen stood up tall. “On my honor, I swear to you that I shall pay your price and grant the elves their benediction — and should I fail, I give them to your final judgment.”
“Farwaen!” Hafface squeaked, clearly anxious.
“Worry not for me, Hafface!” Farwaen waved a hand. “A knight is only as gallant as their word, and I have already given mine.”
Hafface shook her head wildly. “I was more concerned about the whole part where you gamble the elven people on this.”
“They will have their part to play.” The fox said as the vision of Nimueh being ridiculed faded away again. She turned to face the elf directly now. “As do you, Hafface. I do not expect the elves to listen to the Eidolon, no matter how boisterous he is. So you will have to make sure they are taught how to respect nature. Plant a tree if you sunder one. Tend the berry bushes from which you pick and never take all the berries. If you hunt do not selfishly take the carcass with you and deny my scavenging children. There is a cycle in nature, so too must there be a cycle between elf and land. A cycle of giving and taking. If the elves understand and can respect that cycle, I might be persuaded to lift the curse. Will you do that, Hafface?”
“So long as you give us allowances as well,” Hafface stepped beyond Farwaen, the knight averting his eyes. “Allow us to bring baskets, to wear our clothes, to gather material for our homes. Let us do what we naturally need to do to be comfortable and survive — even thrive. If we can do what we need to do, and keep your decrees at the same time, then maybe we all can thrive together.”
Farwaen nodded in agreement, a proud curve on his smile.
The fox goddess remained silent for just a second before she said: “I’ll allow it, but on one condition.” She then locked eyes with Farwaen. “You will kill Masol.”
“Ah!” Farwaen bit his knuckle and grew pensive, almost comically so. He turned to the side, away from Phelenia, as if in dark consideration. “A macabre prospect, my Wizened Woman of the Wood. I dare say I have not yet met this man and find the idea of being his assassin quite the disturbing task. Dare I say!” He turned to the goddess, a shining plea in his big eyes. “Dare I ask? Perhaps instead of rigor mortis to be cast upon this target of yours, expulsion? Sent to learn the proper respects in isolation, far from intervention of the new covenant between you and the elves?”
“Just as Nimueh was forced to live in isolation? I think not.” The fox said as it threw a sly smile – as much as a fox could smile like a humanoid – at Farwaen. “You did swear that you would pay my price. This is it. Wet your blade with his blood and deliver his soul onto my brother of souls. When his corpse falls to the ground my curse will be lifted to give the zenii time to adapt to the new covenant.”
“I see…” Farwaen pinched his chin and looked at Phelenia with downcast eyes. “As you had said, I have given my word as a Knight and it would not be fitting of my honor to turn from my dictation, however dastardly the request. If you are sure of this, and see no other solution — then I shall engage Masol in a sport between gentlemen; though I will add that some may not find this conquest befitting of a new beginning and budding relationship.”
Hafface quickly added. “It could cause more strife, more odds.”
“Perhaps.” The green fox said towards Hafface but then turned towards Farwaen. “But he must die if the covenant is to succeed. It was his arrogance that put the zenii on this path. He was the one who humiliated Nimueh and refused to heed her warning. Even now he sends in his dim-witted followers into my domain believing he can fight me. He must die.”
“And then-“ The fox began to glow and morph right in front of both Hafface and Farwaen. A figure began to emerge from the glow. She was elven in features, but a bit taller and unnaturally beautiful. A dress of emerald green leaves was draped over her body. Before them stood Phelenia as the aspect of beauty and life. “-the covenant will flourish.” She gave Hafface alone a gentle, hopeful smile. “Don’t fail me.” Then she held out a hand. A bright light flashed from her palm.
When Hafface and Farwaen both blinked they found themselves standing in front of the tree again, with the purple fruit in hand.
The two stood in silence for a while, contemplating everything that happened and what will happen. A dense somber atmosphere fell between them as they thought and ran scenarios over and over… Until it was suddenly cracked by Hafface's voice.
"Oh but she can wear a dress!"
End
Farwaen and Hafface travel through the forest in their birthday suits. Considering they now abide by the laws of the forest they find the tree they are looking for very quickly. Farwaen is a picky eater but Hafface is done with his shenanigans and eats a fruit herself. Both of them suddenly find themselves in the verdant green field divided by a creek where Nimueh once found herself. Where a green fox is waiting for them.
Farwaen explains that they have come to lift the curse upon the forest. There is some back and forth on why Phelenia would do that but eventually she offers up the possibility. But only for a price. Farwaen immediately agrees to the price without even hearing what it is. The price starts simple enough: the zenii have to learn to respect the forest and the wilds. Teaching them is Hafface’s duty now. Farwaen is satisfied for a second until he hears his own task.
He has to kill Masol. He tries to offer alternatives or warn the goddess that his death might cause more trouble but she doesn’t care. Masol must die if the covenant is to succeed. Eventually he agrees to the task. Phelenia transforms into her aspect of beauty and life and then pushes them out of her “realm”. The elf and the eidolon find themselves again in front of the tree. Hafface isn’t happy about the fact that Phelenia got a dress.
In front of the first knight stood the unending green and brown stands of the forbidden forest. As if ignoring its grudge with the man so long as he stood just outside it on the dirt lot that marked the beginning of civilization (and Noetal’s garden), a myriad of birdsong and chattering rodents chorused through the unending leaves and underbrush. Truthfully, Farwaen found the scene relaxing if not amazing — even after his dangerous bout with the local fauna.
He wasn’t alone, though, with Hafface standing confidently next to him — clearly secure in her machinations. Noetal himself had opted to watch the spectacle on the other side of the lot, behind his home, which didn’t bother Farwaen any. The knight knew that he had reached the first step of his journey, and all he had to do was pray… something he was quite apt at in his own opinion.
Flourishing his blade, Farwaen drove the point into the rooted ground and tapped his forehead against the pommel of the crucifix. He closed his eyes in respect.
“Hevel, let my voice roam as I call out in prayer to the guardian of this wood. Let her hear my voice and contemplate my words as I beseech her presence this day. Nimueh is her name, and Nimueh I wish to meet. Let it be so.”
Slowly but surely the forest started to quiet down. The songs stopped singing and landed on the nearby branches. The smaller critters stopped their chittering. A tension started to glow from the forest. As if everything stopped to see what would happen next. “Who are you?” Asked a voice coming from somewhere deeper into the forest. Neither Farwaen nor Hafface could see the source of the weary voice though.
“Tis I!” Farwaen called back. “The First of Knights, Farwaen!”
Hafface’s confidence had visibly shrunk, but Farwaen didn’t pay it any mind as he jutted his chin in her direction. “And the First of Squires, Hafface!”
The elf scrunched her nose. “What?”
The forest remained eerily quiet. As if all animals were collectively holding their breath. In the distance a humanoid body moved like a shade between shadows. It inched just a little closer. Then it vanished again. A moment later the voice from deep within the forest spoke again: “Leave your weapons at the first tree of the forest. You have my promise they won’t be taken. Then enter.” The voice said.
Farwaen couldn’t help but bend a small smile at the notion that his weapons could even be taken. Even so, as noble as the prospect, he spoke out, “I have no qualms in leaving my sword by your tree, but my shield shall remain on my back.”
“Then you will not meet me.” The voice returned. The forest became a bit more agitated again. As if the prospect that the shield would enter it made it angry. “I won’t let the forest harm you. That is my promise. But I won’t meet with you if you hold anything that can hurt me. So please, leave it.” The voice did not sound as somber as before. It sounded almost pleading. As if it wanted to meet with Farwaen but could only do so if he didn’t carry the shield.
“An old saying from the plains,” the Eidolon answered, “you cannot touch a hand unless you first reach out. I’m reaching out to you and meeting you halfway, won’t you do the same for me? Tis a shell strapped to my back, I in turn promise you no harm.”
In an instant all the song birds took flight. As if some great beast was rampaging from the woods. The smallest of the critters fled as well. From the shadows a pair of glowing eyes appeared. And then another. “I have reached out… again… and again… and again.” The voice was angry. “I have been ridiculed and beaten for it. I lost my closest friend because of it. And despite that I have done my best to keep as many of my kind safe in the forest. I have reached out, Farwaen. And none listened. You will leave your shield or you will not meet me.”
“A notable amendment to the current predicament, indeed.” Farwaen cradled his chin between thumb and finger. Hafface scowled.
“Again… what?”
The Knight ignored his unwilling squire and leaned his blade against a tree before unstrapping his shield and holding it in front of him with both hands. “Before I let go, what has you so worried about such an instrument as this?”
“It can be held so it can be used to hurt me.” The voice explained. The angry edge had immediately disappeared when Farwaen relented. The glowing eyes vanished in the darkness of the forest as well. “Beyond that it is a mark of civilization. Entering with it would break the Queen’s edict. That would enrage the forest and… It doesn’t matter. Thank you for leaving it.”
“Very well!” Farwaen arched a brow and let go. The shield fell to the ground, shaking it abruptly and scattering the local birds. Farwaen stepped over the shield, the bottom half of it buried in the ground from the immense weight that it landed with. With that done, the Eidolon entered the forest.
“Good.” The voice said. It led the zenii and the eidolon into the forest. The trees grew denser around them. Eyes watched them and a few times a singular singing bird heralded their passing. Still they couldn’t see the source of the voice save for a shady outline in the far distance.
After a while the roots that broke the surface and the path began to recede. They reached a clearing in the forest. The canopy opened up there, letting in the sun’s radiance. On the edge of the clearing was a small incline made of moss-covered rocks from which a crystal clear creek fell and flowed straight through the clearing. On top of the moss covered rocks sat Nimueh cross legged. “Welcome.” She said, her hair was a tangled mess and her eyes were deeply sunken. But still she gave both of them an inviting smile.
Without his sword, Farwaen kicked his foot against a branch on the ground, launching it straight into the air. He deftly caught the branch and spun it around before plunging it into the ground. To Hafface’s chagrin, he fell to one knee and pressed his forehead against the ‘hilt’ of the branch.
“By Hevel, I accept this woman of the woods’ gift of welcome and offer her my own humble celebrations at our meeting. May this exchange of words and thoughts be constructive and pleasant… amen.”
“Are you Nimueh?” Hafface asked with curiosity, stepping past the praying knight.”
The woman of the forest watched Farwaen with suspicious eyes as he grabbed the branch. For a moment she flourished her hand a little and for a split second both the zenii and the eidolon would’ve seen a slight green glow. But as Farwaen pushed the branch in the ground and fell to one knee the glow vanished again, as did the woman’s suspicion.
“I am.” She said to Hafface with a gentle smile. “I’m actually curious, what do they say about me these days around the blackstones?”
“Well…” Hafface started, cautioning another step closer to the mythic elf. “They mostly talk about…” She frowned, a look of shame on her face. “Well, I at least know that you're considered the servant of the Beast Queen.”
“Of a wonderfully mythic woman of the woods! Ho!” Farwaen burst past Hafface, fist shaking with vigor. “And here you are, in the flesh — albeit you seem stained by sadness. Pray tell and regale me with your plight, mournful maiden.”
“Mournful maiden?” Nimueh let out a small snicker. “You must be confusing sadness with tiredness. I wasn’t joking when I said I am still keeping my kin as safe as I can in this forest. Day and night.” She said with a genuine smile. “And I doubt they call me wonderful Farwaen.” That was said with a more melancholic and even guilty sounding tone. Her eyes turned towards Hafface again. “You know the one law the Lady gave. It is true. I broke it. I killed.” Now all happiness had drained out of her and was replaced with sorrow. She took a deep breath and then looked at Farwaen again.
“The Beast Queen blessed me and gave me the duty to teach my kin how to respect the forest. The Beast Queen also has very simple rules: don’t enter the woods with marks of civilization. The zenii would learn, by word or claw. Those were her exact words. I tried to talk to the zenii… to Masol. Nobody listened so the Beast Queen decided they would learn by claw. I’m prot- trying to protect my kin from the anger of the forest. Like I’m protecting you two now.”
“I’ve seen your… civilization,” Farwaen said apprehensively, “tis true it be a sad one with little to note, but it can never grow unless it can reap the forest that it dwells by. Like it or not, the commandment that keeps the people from this wood is the same that will slowly choke the life from them. Let me speak with your lady the Beast Queen, and perhaps I may enlighten her to the damage she wrought and perhaps, mediate on behalf of those who have in turn fouled her mood.”
“The village shuns me, too,” Hafface added abruptly. “Maybe not in the same way.”
For a second Nimueh looked at Hafface with eyes of pity. Though she soon shifted her gaze back at the boisterous knight. “You’re… not wrong.” The zena atop the moss-stones said. For a moment she awkwardly fidgeted with her fingers as if she didn’t want to say anything more. It took almost half a minute before she continued.
“I don’t… actually know how to talk to her though.” She finally admitted. “I mean sometimes she appears in my dreams as some green animal. But I can’t summon her… I think.”
“Ah I see…” Farwaen put a foot up on the moss stone that Nimueh sat on and rested his elbow against his leg, striking a thinking pose. Cupping his chin, he thought with a playful hum before snapping a finger.
“Nimueh!”
“Y-Yes?” Nimueh said as she was leaning somewhat backwards, away from the large eidolon.
“I theorize that perhaps your Queen of Beasts may have a similar attribute that of which my own Lord, Hevel, possesses.” Farwaen gave a wide smile. “Should my estimation be correct and not just presumptuous, then you might be able to cloister yourself to a simple prayer and thus conjure the attention of your Queen. Ho!” He slapped his thigh as punctuation. “Indeed, I think that may be the answer.”
It took a clear moment until the zena fully understood what the eidolon before her just said. “I… tried that.” She carefully answered. “She doesn’t respond.”
“Mind if I give it a go?” Farwaen held his pose — and Hafface stood disappointed behind him, arms crossed.
“Doesn’t sound like a good idea.” She said.
“I agree with Hafface, I don’t think it will work.” Nimueh added.
“Very well!” Farwaen didn’t seem the least bit dissuaded. “Lady of the wood, what do you suggest instead?” “There… might be a way.” Nimueh said. “But it won’t be easy and you won’t like it.”
“I wasn’t always… like this. I used to be a normal zena until I found a strange tree and ate its fruit. The next thing I know I was stumbling out of the woods in the late evening. Somehow I knew about the Beast Queen and somehow my influence over the forest grew. Everything started with that fruit. You could try and find the tree. It holds a much closer connection to the Beast Queen.”
Before Farwaen could give any grand declarations Nimueh quickly held up her hand to stop him though. “I can’t accompany you if you go out looking for it and the forest is still angry with you. If I left you it would attack. If you want to find the tree you’ll have to do it on the terms of the forest.”
Seemingly unbothered, Farwaen cracked a grin. “And what are the terms of the forest?”
“No sword. No shield.” Nimueh said. Then her eyes wandered over to Hafface. As if the next demand wouldn’t faze the knight but would cause a reaction from his squire: “And no clothes. No marks of civilization. If you follow the rules the forest will let you be.”
Hafface squirmed uncomfortably under Nimueh’s suddenly oppressive gaze. “You want us to-”
“Derobe?” Farwaen stepped in between the two. “Such debauchery! Shall we meet the Queen with our fruits bare for the lady to see as well?” He paused… looking down Nimueh. “Present company excluded from this new revelation, I suppose.”
“I- This is… I didn’t mean to offend you.” Nimueh stammered. “But that’s the rule. Nature doesn’t know about clothes. If you don’t take them off when you go looking for the tree the forest will keep attacking you. You could fight.” She looked straight at Farwaen with a knowing look. “But eventually you’ll tire and the night will come and you still won’t have found the tree. You won’t ever find it if you carry marks of civilization with you. This I know as a fact.”
Something swirled in Farwaen’s eye, something grey and fluid. His expression changed at Nimueh’s words and his voice deepened. “Is that a challenge?”
Nimueh met his eyes but showed only pity now. “It’s not. In fact, I don’t think you understand. This tree is divine. You won’t find it unless it lets you.”
“And it wishes to find me naked?” Farwaen squinted.
“It wants you as natural as you can be.”
“And yet it asked me to be declawed and deshelled, and now to bear myself nude,” Farwaen cradled his chin in thought. “I’ll play its game, but I do deplore its requirements and find the fascination with my natural state to be pervasive and deeply disturbing, let it be noted.”
“Noted.” Hafface answered for Nimueh.
Farwaen tipped his head. “Thank you, Squire. Now disrobe, I shall close my eyes and scour the forest blind and natural — apparently.” The man ripped his cloth belt off in one swipe.
“N-No no no!” Nimueh quickly interjected. “Right now you’re protected by me. I can guide you back to the edge of the forest where your shield and weapon rests.” She then looked past the eidolon at Hafface. “You don’t have to accompany him if you don’t want to. You can stay fully dressed unless you go into the forest without me nearby.”
“I know I don’t!” Hafface yelped. “I don’t have to be doing any of this!”
“Then why are you here?” Farwaen was retightening the belt he had around his waist.
Hafface scoffed as if the answer was obvious but then fell silent. Farwaen blinked. Frowning, Hafface shook her head. “I want to see what happens.”
“Well then, if that is so, you know what to do.” Farwaen ripped his belt off once again and tied it over his eyes. His white robes slacked without the support of the belt, and he easily pulled them off. Blindly, he threw the clothes over Nimueh’s head.
“Hold onto that for me,” Farwaen said as he kicked off his strapped sandals.
Another set of clothes landed over the robes Farwaen tossed over Nimueh and Hafface called out, “ready.”
“I-I’ll…” Nimueh stammered as the knight’s far larger clothes fell over. The zena quickly uncovered herself again but now was looking up like a deer smelling a predator nearby. Something only Hafface could see now. “I have to go.” She suddenly said looking sideways towards somewhere in the forest. “I wish you both all the luck I can give you. Really, I hope you’ll be successful Farwaen.” With those words said Nimueh shot up and transformed into an owl so she could fly away over the canopy.
We pick up where we left off, with Farwaen and his newly appointed Squire, Hafface, attempting to contact Nimueh to seek out the Queen of Beasts. It is a simple matter of walking up to the forest line and calling out for her, which Farwaen does in such a way that was likely unnecessary.
The duo meet Nimueh on a mossy rock and after a brief discussion and some defiant remarks, it is decided that the only way Phelenia would see or talk to Farwaen and Hafface is if they were to leave all their markings of civilization behind (including their clothes) and set themselves to walk into the forest to find a sacred tree.
After further discussion, the duo agrees to this — but not before using Nimueh as a hamper — and now we are left with a (very naked) Eidolon who is wearing his cloth belt as a blind fold, and a, equally very au naturale elf wandering the deep and dark forest for a special tree like a 1970’s special.
Farwaen Starting Spirit: 4 + 1 Featured in the post + 1 Focus of the post + 1 for medium post + 1 for collab Farwaen Ending Spirit: 8
Nimueh Starting Spirit: 11 + 1 Featured in a post + 1 for medium post + 1 for collab Nimueh Ending Spirit: 14
Phelenia starting vigor: 4 - 1: Create Monument (enhanced): Heart-tree of the Vale - A sacred tree blessed by Phelenia. Its fruit created the heraldess Nimueh. It holds control over the forest and cannot be found by mortals if it doesn’t wish to be found by them. Reaching it and eating its fruit is one of the very few surefire ways for mortals to gain an audience with the queen of life herself. Phelenia ending vigor: 3
“Sycrae, can I ask you a question?” Whitoa said as she played with the three rats that moved from one arm to another. They had crawled all over her as she cooed and whispered to them. Her dress was seemingly made of the local crimson leaves letting her blend well into the woods. But there were no woods here. The clearing around the crater had barely stopped burning. There was only ash and it caked the young dryad’s feet. Though she didn’t care.
The sentinel dryad motioned for her to speak but kept her eyes on the cleaned, white stone laying on the ground before her. Something was drawing in the sentinel. Or rather, her own psyche was yearning for its rough surface again.
“What are the others doing?” She pointed back towards the edge of the forest. Where several nymphs and even a handful of sentinels were softly singing while sitting spread out in the ash.
“They’re raising the forest plants, Whitoa.” Sycrae explained though she still kept her eyes on the Moonshard. “Phelenia wishes us to guide the cycle. You know how I killed that fox very quickly?” Whitoa just nodded. “They are doing the same in in essence. I encouraged the passing of the animal. They are encouraging the growth of new life. And so the cycle moves on. Helped by us but never stopped. That is how it must be.”
The young dryad nodded, though she didn’t fully understand everything about the cycle yet. Most of the time she just wished her friends didn’t die. Or that she was allowed to protect them. Even giving them shelter had caused a horrible debate with Sycrae, who only relented because it would cause a riot amongst the beastspeaking nymphs if she didn’t. Of course, a riot would only mean the nymphs don’t perform their duty. “So what are you doing then? Can’t you sing?”
“I can, Whitoa. I can but I won’t. I have more important matters to attend to.” She said as she kept looking at the stone. Her hand inched closer to it again but she pulled back. She needed more knowledge or at the very least enough control that it shows what she needs to know. Pillars in a strange valley was not useful information. “Tell me what you are.” Whispered Sycrae to the stone.
“It’s blue.” Said Whitoa who now held a rat over her and gave it small kisses. Sycrae turned to face her for the first time. Whitoa lowered the rat again. “Sorry, the rats. They say the magic around it is blue.”
“Go on.”
“They say that most of the magic here around is red. Whatever that means. Normally it’s green and white but here it is red. But that stone makes blue magic.” Explained Whitoa. “They say that ever since it landed there are just a bunch of colors here.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Said Whitoa. “They just know somehow that it is magic and it is colored. Huh, what was that?” She suddenly held up a chittering rat to her ear and listened attentively. She gave it a few affirmative nods and ‘uhuns’ before lowering it again and continue petting it. “My friend here says that they can use magic easily. Maybe we could learn from them?”
“What’s blue magic doing for them?” Asked Sycrae.
Again Whitoa held up the rat to her ear. She whispered a few words in that ethereal tongue only beastspeakers knew and then the rat started chittering again. “Whenever he came close to the stone he saw his own tail.” Sycrae rolled her eyes. “And then the tail of another. Not close but far. One of his pup. He was worried for him. He had run away but… the blue showed him where he was hiding.”
That did get Sycrae’s attention. “Tell me more.”
Whitoa is asking questions to Sycrae while she’s playing with a rat. In the distance, some dryads are singing to encourage the forest to grow. Sycrae explains what they are doing and why: to encourage the cycle. Then Whitoa asks why she is doing. Sycrae says that she’s busy with the stone and wants to fully unlock its powers.
Whitoa points out that the magic around it is blue. Which catches Sycrae’s attention. She asks for more and Whitoa explains how her rat friends can seemingly see and understand magic. Sycrae asks what blue magic does and Whitoa translates the tale of how it helped the rat-papa find his kit. This catches Sycrae’s attention.
Sycrae starting spirit: 2 + 1: Features in a post + 1: Focus of a post Starts mortal quest: Unlock the vision powers (and get into contact with Yudaiel but she doesn’t know that part yet) of the Moonshard
This time the dryad sentinel just groaned. “What is it?” She grumbled, hoping it wasn’t another squirrel, fox, badger, rabbit, fawn, or bird that was dying and Withoa just had to save. The first time it happened it was endearing to Sycrae. The seventh time she felt like her patience was seeping away. Whitoa, the young dryad, had to learn sooner or later that death was just a natural part of life right?
“You really have to see this! It’s super important!” Whitoa said as she started pulling on Sycrae’s arm to get her up. “Really it’s very important!” She kept insisting. There was a strange kind of urgency in her voice but then again, she had been urgent about the dying rabbit as well.
Sycrae just groaned and kept laying down. The sun felt too warm on her skin right now. “What animal did you find this time and how hurt is it?” She asked, rolling her eyes behind her eyelids. Why couldn’t she just get a few days to bask in His radiance? She was quickly regretting taking the role of leader.
“It’s not an animal… I think. It’s… warm.” Whitoa said as she kept tugging. “Like painfully warm.”
It was just intriguing enough for Sycrae to open up an eye. As she did, she did smell something faint in the air. “What is that I'm smelling?” She asked. Quickly she got up to look around. There was an orange glow far off in the distance. “What is that!?” She then exclaimed. Sycrae turned to look at Whitoa, who just looked confused at the sentinel. She didn’t know what it was either. The two dryads started running up the incline of the mountain. Other dryads began to stir across the forest as well. Sycrae heard their calls upon the wind. “What happened?” Sycrae asked Whitoa as they both kept going up.
“I’m not sure!” Whitoa almost yelled out of growing panic. “One moment I was playing around with some rabbits and then I heard this big loud bang from the sky. The next thing I know there’s like a line of black clouds growing in the sky and something orange came falling down. It fell down really close to me and suddenly all the trees started burning!”
Sycrae reached a higher plateau. Parts of the forest were on fire. The flames were spreading. Luckily they weren’t spreading too fast, but still at this rate quite a bit of what the dryads called home would go up in flames. The growing number of nymphs that were flocking to Sycrae were looking at her with pleading eyes. Either the critters living in the forest here were their friends or the burning trees were. Either way, they started to realize that their close ones were suffering.
But this was exactly the kind of thing the Sages warned her about. This too was part of nature. The wanton destruction was meant to make place for new life. It was easy to hear it but a lot harder to see it happen in reality. Her eyes turned towards the expectant nymphs, then she locked eyes with some of the sentinels that were gathering as well. “Get all the dryads to safety.”
“What about the forest!?” Some of the nymphs exclaimed.
Sycrae swallowed deeply to gather her courage. “This too is part of the cycle. We have to go, this doesn’t have to be our time yet!” Saying that today was a lot harder than just believing it yesterday.
~
A raincloud saved most of the forest in the end. Sycrae called it fate but only to placate the distraught nymphs who cried over their lost friends. The sentinels walked through the blackened woods with grim faces. There was a lot of pain here. Unlike the nymphs though, they were here on a mission. Something had fallen from the heavens: the domain of the Monarch. They had to find out what it was.
Eventually, they found the crater. It was big, bigger than Sycrae’s grove. It was perfectly circular as well which felt very strange and almost unnatural to the sentinel. She and her entourage descended along the slope towards its heart. There a boulder lay half-covered by ash and burned dirt. The sentinels gathered around it. Carefully they brushed some of the dirt off, revealing the pale stone beneath. “I’ve never seen such stone.” Said one of the sentinels. One who preferred to stick closer to sparse woods higher up in the mountains.
“Be careful with it, it might be a gift from the Monarch.” Said Sycrae who gently removed her hand. A finger accidentally brushed up against it. Sycrae’s vision flashed for a second but it was too short to see anything. She stopped. The other dryads turned to look at her.
“Are you okay?” Asked one?
“Yes.. Yes, I think. Something is happening.” The dirt on her side was mostly removed and she could see the white stone beneath. Her hand inched closer and closer to it. Almost as if it called her. For a moment Sycrae wanted to pull her hand back but she banished that thought. She was never one to ignore the call of destiny. So instead she put her whole hand on the white rock. The moment she touched it Sycrae felt her body being sucked into the stone. One moment she saw the white stone, the dirt and the burned wood around it.
The next she felt as if she was bathing in the great void. She turned around, only to face the moon before her. It looked far larger than the moon looked in the sky back home. Here and now she could see the many scars and craters upon its surface. She blinked and the vision shifted again.
She saw a lush cradle of green, nestled in the safe bosom of rising stone and covering wood, vibrant with life and the bustle of flowing water, both from whipping rain and a wild river. Each day and night lasted only for a moment. A square pattern of endless pillars dominates the cradle, black as the night sky and alien to the otherwise serene valley it was standing in - towering above all reason. Indifferent to seasons and elements, impenetrable and unyielding. Yet the pattern was distorted. Where the center should be is rubble and a cracked black stone base. Where pillar would be was something else. A metallic and unnaturally straight. It was tall and weathered after years in the rain. Black as the stone it was born of. Feeble hands grapple at its handle, weak shadows clamoring for the immobile prize. None could muster the strength, the shape, to grasp the hilt and pull it loose.
The blade called, whispers a mocking challenge as it watched. A promise of power, always in sight. Never given. Then the rain relents - the brightness of the flame and sun dispelling it as it blinded the world. The light took the shape of a sharp-eared man with hair like daffodils and eyes like the sun. His presence warped all he graced, and black pillars rose into the sky until they touch each other, all connected like a dome-like cage. The man ascended the black stone to face the blade. Man and blade contested each other, neither relenting. Each as tall, each as stubborn. A rustle of stone, then all the world was consumed by light.
When the light receded Sycrae found her again floating in the void but this time the moon was further away and moving further still. "No!" She shouted, reaching out with her hand. The vision looked so real! There was no part of Sycrae that doubted its veracity but it was not what she wanted to see. She was sent here with a duty and for weeks now she had been agonizing on how to do fulfill it. This stone, the moon, the visions, this was her answer! So she reached out with more than just her hand. From inside her chest she felt a power welling up. She blinked, and her vision shifted again.
For only a split second she saw Keltra. Not from a distance as she had seen it before. She saw it from above. The vision moved as if she was flying. It raced straight for the fortress and then inside. Like the wind it raged through its halls until it suddenly stopped, showing Sycrae a bright flame.
Then the vision was gone. At first, she saw nothing but darkness but then she opened her eyes. The sky was a bit cloudy but otherwise normal. A smokey stench still hung in the air. Nymphs were gathered around her. Why was she laying on the ground?
"We pulled you back, you were shaking!" Whitoa said as she rushed to Sycrae's side. "Is everything okay? Are you ill?"
"No." Sycrae said as she slowly got up. "I just saw... a lot."
Sycrae is woken up by Whitoa again. She groans but still gets up only to realize that the forest is on fire. According to the nymph something came falling from the sky. Sycrae decides to save the dryads and let the forest burn. Believing that it too is part of the cycle.
Flash forward until after the fire burned. The nymphs are mourning the death of their friends while the sentinels investigate the meteor. They brush off the dirt and ash. By accident, Sycrae touches it and almost sees a vision. Not being one to back down from fate she puts her whole hand on it and sees a vision.
The vision is about impossible pillars standing in some green vale. There is no central pillar where one should be. Instead she sees some long, metallic object. And a sharp-eared man that pulls the item out of the stone through great effort.
That's not what Sycrae wants to see though. So she uses her own internal power to force the vision to shift to something she wants to see: Keltra. The vision flies her through the fortress until she sees - for only a split second - the Eternal Flame.
The vision vanishes because the nymphs, afraid, pulled her away from the stone.
Sycrae starting spirit: 2 + 1: Featured in a post + 1: Focus of a post - 2: Forcing the vision to show her something she wants to see Sycrae ending spirit: 2
“Run. Run!” Brunai shouted at Venar. The young boy did as he was told. He started running through the bushes and in between the trees. He heard his friend shout at something behind him. He could hear the whooshing of a very large branch. Brunai was fighting something off, he knew it. Then there was a gust of wind and everything fell silent. He stopped and turned around. He saw nothing. Burani was gone. Not dead, just completely gone. Just like the others. An hour ago, at sundown, he would’ve run back to check upon her.
Now he just kept on running. The forest was impossibly huge though and he had no idea in what direction to run. So he just kept going in one direction hoping he would finally find the edge of the forest. There was a chill on his back though. He felt as if he was being watched from somewhere above and behind him. Like some great bird would snatch him up at any moment. So he kept running and running. Until he suddenly saw the light of a clearing poured through the trees in a distance. He was nearly there. Just a little further. Just a little further.
And then he tripped over a branch he hadn’t seen. He looked up. His face was caked in mud and leaves. It was right there. Something wrapped around his legs. “No! NO!” He tried to crawl but whatever wound around his legs suddenly pulled him back and then there was only blackness.
~
“Sycrae!”
Sycrae slowly opened her eyes. She was lounging in the sun near a clearing, on a stone with a creek running around it giving her plenty of water to drink. Those were the only things she needed in life. Before her stood four of dryad nymphs. They all looked like humans with light green skin and dark green hair. Huge leaves and flower petals were wrapped around them as clothes. “What is it?” She asked. The dream was already fading.
“You have to come! Quickly!” One of them insisted. Whitoa, a nymph who had already wrapped herself in the native red leaves of the area. Tears were streaming from her eyes as she was tugging Sycrae’s arm. Which caused the dryad sentinel to jump up immediately and follow the group of nymphs. Unlike them, she looked more as if she was armored: her skin was mostly bark now and her hair looked more like a tangle of vines. Branches grew through her hair as if she was crowned.
Only a moment later and the group of nymphs with Sycrae in tow arrived near two more nymphs hunched over something. “Out of my way,” Sycrae said. The younger nymphs were quick to obey her. When she finally reached what they were hunched over, she saw what caused so much worry: a fox. A regular, wounded fox. An eagle or some other predator had probably attacked it. The fox seemed to have gotten away but the wounds were too deep. He would die.
“We have to help him!” Whitoa yelled as she kneeled down next to the fox. “Please! How?” She was pleading with Sycrae. The sentinel wasn’t moved, though. She stroked the fox along its back a bit. “We can’t help him. He’s already at the brink of death.” She said calmly.
“Well can’t you pull him back!?” Whitoa yelled.
“We shouldn’t.” She carefully said. “He is dying, it’s his time.” More nymphs were breaking down in tears around her. They weren’t hardened yet like the rest of the sentinels. With time that would come. Though she envied their hearts. Sycrae was born as a sentinel. She and Whitoa were equally old. Yet there was still a youthfulness in Whitoa that Sycrae never had. Despite their heart and insistence, they wouldn’t dare cross Sycrae though.
But the sadness they felt now should not cause them to be consumed by hopelessness. “Who here is a beastspeaker?” She asked. Whitoa actually raised her hand. Sycrae didn’t know that about her, but apparently, fate was at her side today. “Come here, kneel down.” Sycrae said. The young nymph did as she was commanded. “I want you to stroke him like I did, and I want you to tell that the pain will soon end.”
Whitoa sobbed for a second but did as she was told. She spoke some ethereal words that nobody present could understand as she stroked the fox. Meanwhile, Sycrae carefully took the fox by its neck. First gently as to not stress it out. Whitoa saw her sister's hands and kept on talking. Sycrae wasn’t a beastspeaker but she could guess that Whitoa continued to comfort the poor animal. The sentinel had her hands ready, and gave a small nod to the nymph. Who swallowed her sorrow for a second, gave a nod, and told the fox some parting words. With one quick move Sycrae twisted its neck. It yelped for a second, and then the animal went limp in their hands.
“It’s over, you did well.” Sycrae said. Whitoa lifted up the fox in her arms. It was dead. Sycrae put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you helped end its suffering. That’s the most we can do. You understand that right?” The nymph gave a small nod but then walked away. She would probably cry some more with the fox’s body in her arms, but eventually, she’d surrender it to nature. Sycrae followed her for a moment with her eyes, and then turned away and looked the other way. There were more important things to watch here. The dryads of Ailorn, the name chosen by the Green Mother as she found the original name: Kel-Phelena displeasing, were tasked with watching the strange goddess Homura. So far Sycrae had never watched the pox mark upon the world by the name of Keltra from a distance. “I need to get closer.” She whispered to herself.
First we see a bunch of humans getting abducted by something in the forest.
Then we skip to Sycrae, a newly made dryad who dreamt about the human kidnapping. She is a dryad sentinel lounging in the light of the sun when a group of nymphs wake her up. They need her help with something urgent that got some of them in tears. Sycrae becomes worried and follows, only to realize that they're crying about a dying fox.
Sycrae explains that she can't help the animal but they can shorten its suffering. Whitoa, a beastspeaker, tries to comfort and calm the fox as Sycrae kills it off as quickly as possible.
Then the dryad sentinel ponders on her true purpose in the crimson woods.
Phelenia starting Vigor: 5 - 3 vigor: Enhancing some humans (that she kidnapped) to create Dryads: Dryads have several perks. First off, dryads have three stages in life:
The first is the Nymph stage. In this stage, they appear as (supernaturally) beautiful, slightly green maidens with flowers and leaves wrapped around their bodies like clothes. They are playful, joyful, and endlessly curious. At about 100 years old they begin their slow transformation between nymph and sentinel.
After about 120 years old a dryad is a sentinel. Their skin is made of bark and rougher vines, while their hair looks more like actual vegetation. They often take more time (days) to lounge in the sun after having drunk a lot of water. Still, they can have great bursts of speed and generally have a closer bond with the forest around them. However, they generally stay in the same area if they can help it.
After about 200 to 220 years old a dryad will start to become rooted in the one place they often stay at and turn into a sage. A sage is more akin to a tree than a dryad really. They harbor great wisdom and knowledge but rarely if ever walk again. After about 3OO years they finally die off.
Amongst the dryads there is a separation of skill. All dryads can manipulate the forest in some small way. However, there are dryads who can speak (and as sentinels generally even command) animals with seemingly ethereal tones and words. These are called beastspeakers. Other dryads can have a gift with the forest itself, allowing them to naturally manipulate the forest or talk to the trees. These two gifts are entirely exclusive: a beastspeaker cannot have the talent to work with plants or vice versa.
They subsist on water and light (and mana).
- 1 vigor: to teleport some of the dryads from Orsus to Kel-Phelena/Ailorn. Phelenia originally grabbed some humans from the northern part of Orsus that Tuku put there.
- 1 vigor: turn Sycrae into a champion and tell her to watch Keltra and Homura.
Phelenia end vigor: 0
Sycrae spirit start: 0 + 1 spirit: in a post + 1 spirit: focus of a post Sycrae spirit end: 1
“Steady. Steady!” Nimueh said to herself. Climbing into a tree as a squirrel came easy to her. Running like a fox across the forest came easy as well. Generally, whenever Nimueh transformed into another animal she didn’t have that much problems adapting. Most of the time the running was just done on four legs instead of two. Flying was another matter entirely. The senses were so different. She could see so far away! But at the same time she felt how she constantly had to feel the wind go under and over her wings and adjust as needed.
Still, she started to get a hang of it. Or rather, she didn’t crash face first into the ground again. Turning fast and looping through the air would make her head spin though, and gaining altitude felt like she had to move in some esoteric way with the winds. For now she glided over the forest canopy in her owl form. Soon though she left the forest underneath her to find the valley stretch in front of her. From her vantage point in the sky she saw the many blackstones stretching far and wide. There were so many! “Oh by the Lady it’s beautiful.” She said, which came out as the hooting of an owl.
But she came her with a mission. Another mission. Teaching the zenii magic would be… hard now. She’d find a way! She promised after all. But now she had to make sure zenii weren’t going to die because she didn’t tell them about the Beast Queen. Of course, she could try and convince Lonam and some other blackstone group leaders but really, how effective would that be? No, instead she decided to be clever! As a rat or a fox she scurried around the camps learning about what was happening in the valley. It turned out that this Masol guy who was coming after her was gaining a lot of attention. People listened to him!
So now, in her owl form, she was on a mission to find and convince Masol that the Beast Queen was real!
Finding Masol wasn't as difficult as she had first expected. From descriptions of his appearance, she simply looked for the zene with unyielding pectoral muscles and biceps like tree trunks, a handsome face and the respect and admiration of his peers. Maybe with some accounting for the fawning tone with which this information had been conveyed - considering the typical topics he was either a friendly protector of all zenii or a handsome beast of a zene who could shield you from the cold in his arms. With some cursory flying, Nimueh had already located a promising part of the valley. A place where the blackstones no longer seemed to serve as natural group dividers, where zenii wandered back and forth between each and even sat away from them, engaged in tool-making and various labors. At the center of all this was a ringside camp by a blackstone, sticks and tools heaped against it and a small fence built out of sticks and clay. The crowd here was very big, circled around two zenii engaged in some kind of whistling and pitch-shifting duel, dancing around each other and taunting before briefly lunging for their opponent to try and push them off-balance; not off of their feet, but out of tune. One of the men was clearly who she was looking for. The exaggerated descriptions fit no zene better than it ever would him. To top it off, half the crowd was deliriously shouting 'Masol! Masol!' at the top of their lungs. That fact actually made all the other investigation facts a little redundant.
Nimueh had to get closer. She had to talk to Masol who was currently occupying himself with the strangest of activities. She circled out again. With her owl eyes she peaked some yarenes hanging from another blackstone while some other zenii were playing in the nearby river. Well, they wouldn’t miss it for now right? Nimueh dove down and snatched some of the clothes off of the obelisk. With the yarenes in her claws she flew away to a nearby copse, transformed back into her zenii form and tries to put on a yarene. She needed to try out two. The first was obviously made for a zene and would make her indecent. Not that she cared but the zenii, and Masol especially would. The second was too big. The third fitted her well enough. Even with the holes torn in them by her owl claws.
Once properly dressed she made her way towards the shouting group surrounding the whistlers. “Excuse me, sorry, coming through. Sorry, excuse me. Sorry I need to get in front.” Nimueh kept apologizing as she pushed her way through the throng of zenii. Once she reached the edge of the circle she stopped and just watched the ‘battle’ unfold. Compared to being hunted by a wolf it felt silly. Nimueh stood out like a sore thumb though. Because right now, she was the only one not chanting a name.
The battle was something akin to a show match. Now that she watched, she could tell they were not only mock-wrestling, but also singing some kind of highly varied and improvised tune. Wherever the opponent stopped, it was up to the other to first match pitch and rhythm, then build on it. All while being assaulted by another zene's strength. It wasn't the dumbest game she'd seen, but it wasn't that exciting either.
"Nimueh!"
Someone shouted her name, and the effect was immediate. The song came to an abrupt end, and confusion spread in the ranks. Someone was pointing at her - she recognized him as one of the late joiners of Lonam's blackstone, maybe a day before she left. Others started gesturing and pointing, and someone shoved her from behind to push her further into the ring, even as others tried their best to flee her immediate presence. Masol and his opponent turned to put eyes on her, fingers flexing slowly. She assumed both of them could choke her out in seconds, and Masol carried himself with a confident air of masculine aggression. He was not afraid to stare her in the eyes, even as the other zene took a few steps back.
A thousand thoughts went straight through Nimueh. For a moment after she was pushed she just stood there like a deer that heard something suspicious. She couldn’t run and she sure as hell couldn’t fight someone as big as Masol. At the same time though she heard and saw a bunch of zenii running away. Were they running away from her? There was a general sense of panic growing everywhere around her. This really wasn’t how she wanted this to go. She just wanted to catch Masol alone at some point to have a nice talk. This? This wasn’t it. So she did the only thing she knew she could do.
“Hi.” She stammered as she gave Masol a small, awkward smile and an even more awkward hand wave.
The awkward gesture seemed to be interpreted as some sign of intense mystery by a few gathered onlookers, as vicious mockery by others. Masol remained resolute, his face stony and unmoving. "You come to us at last. You are lucky the Lady has not returned." He uttered eventually. Not much of a greeting. Two zenii, one of each sex, rustled out from the crowd and flanked him. The zena moved towards Nimueh but Masol stopped her with a raised hand physically blocking her. "Wait, Jem. We'll let her speak."
Nimueh’s heart skipped a beat when Masol invoked the Lady. She nervously looked upwards to the skies. Has she returned from the moon yet? Or was she silently judging her for breaking the one thing rule she gave the zenii? She was quiet for a second, just to see if the Lady would take now of all moments, to descend from the moon. She didn’t. Which was a relief to the young zena.
“Speak?” She squeecked like a squirrel. Her eyes went from looking at the sky to looking around her. There were so many zenii here! It was impossible! But then then again just a few days ago she couldn’t make the grass dance around with her finger tips or jump from tree to tree as a squirrel. So she took a deep breath to muster her courage. “Right so… I’m here about the Beast Queen. She doesn’t like that you bring pots and baskets and such into the forest. So maybe.. you should stop… doing that?” The way she said it, she realized she couldn’t even convince herself. Really, what hope was there that she could convince the others.
The crowd was deathly silent. A mess of eyes burrowed into her from every direction, judging her with fury and disgust apparent in their eyes. Confusion lingered in many, no doubt ill informed about the Beast Queen in the first place. But Masol appeared to know exactly what she was talking about, rubbing his hands together as he took the time to consider her words. When his face twisted into a smile and he looked towards the crowd on his right, Nimueh knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “A common beast doesn’t like us picking berries and sticks with our pots. Perhaps we shall carry them in yarenes, instead?” There was an uneasy ripple of snickers as Masol looked at Nimueh head on, a smug smile plastered on his tense features. “The forest belongs as much to us as the animals. We are given the purpose to thrive by the Lady.”
“The Beast Queen is real!” Nimueh shouted with all her strength. That rage from being mocked over her existence surprised even herself. But she kept going, fueled by something that came from deep inside of her: “And she’s more than just some common beast. She is a goddess and her domain is the forest.” She looked around the group. It wasn’t hard to find the foresters amongst the crowd. Their feet were muddied and they had the most scraps. Nimueh locked eyes with some of them. “You know what I’m talking about. About the whispers upon the wind that make you think there is something behind you.” She shifted eyes to some of the girls in the group. She was one of them not too long ago. “Everyone who entered the woods knows about the rustling of the leaves. As if the trees are talking.” She then turned to lock eyes with Masol. “Anyone who enters the forest knows there is something far greater there than any zenii. Her name is the Beast Queen and she has sent me here to warn you.”
"So the woods are not safe," Masol repeated, stretching his arms out to command the attention of the crowd. The crowd was uneasy and still. If any of the foresters she had seen in the crowd sympathized with her message, they didn't particularly like to show it. "Then your Beast Queen would have us deny our true purpose. The Lady asks us to stand against evil - well, I ask you, all you gathered," his eyes turned to the crowd. Clearly this zene was more interested in popularity than reason. "Is it not evil to demand such obedience from the Lady's chosen? There is enough forest for all. This Queen can share her bounty, no harm done."
Nimueh looked around the group. It was clear that they were all siding with the big, muscular zene. “No… please. Listen.” She stammered. The strength and fire she felt just a moment ago dissipated. “You’re not- you’re not listening. By word or by claw she said. Please, I don’t want it to be by claw.” But the more she pleaded, the quieter she became. Her heart shrunk in her chest. She locked eyes with Masol one more time in a desperate attempt to convince him. “Please, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Because deep in her heart she knew the Beast Queen would see the ‘harm done’ and she would kill a zene to prove her point. “Please I don’t want anyone else to die.”
"That's rich coming from a kinslayer," the zena at Masol's side, Jem, called out to her in open challenge. "You come to spit on our ways - your ways - in service of another ruler. Well, we already have a ruler. Masol is the King of the Valley as much as there is any Queen of the Woods." She explained with venomous tone, and Masol silenced her once more with a lifted hand.
"Now, now. I'm certain we can come to terms," Masol cut in, extending a hand towards Nimueh. "You have communed with this evil. What does she look like? Does she command the animals?"
“She’s- You shouldn’t call her evil.” Nimueh said. The zenii that had previously ran away were now slowly coming back. Adding to the pressure Nimueh felt bearing down on her. Her eyes darted from Masol’s to the zena by his side. She didn’t get it. Her eyes then darted to another zenii in the group. He didn’t get it either. Everywhere around her she saw eyes full of certainty that Masol would protect them. But Masol was not an equal to the Beast Queen. “You’re not a god.” She whispered to herself as she bit her lip.
“She talks to me but only sometimes. It’s on her terms.” She explained. Maybe answering his questions would make him see reason. Maybe. “She looks like.. whenever she appears before me it’s as a green animal, like a green fox. I know how that sounds!” She quickly snapped before another zenii could jest about it. “But I can feel that she is a goddess.” She then locked eyes with Masol again. “She commands the animals and the trees and the bushes. She can command everything in the forest.”
To his credit, the zene in which so many appeared to put their faith seemed to actually pause and consider her words. Someone heckled her from the crowd during the lull - another called for her to be banished. When Masol finally spoke again the crowd hushed quickly, helped by enforcers in the masses that grew increasingly apparent to Nimueh. There were plenty of zenii calling the shots present, and they seemed content to let Masol do the talking. "A goddess. Seeing as the Lady has spoken tender tales of all the good gods, there can only be one conclusion to your words. This Beast Queen of yours is unreasonable and evil, as proven by the threats you bear." The zene at his side began to speak, but Masol quickly continued before anyone could speak differently. "We shall consult the Lady herself for aid in this matter! The battle against evil has begun, just as she predicted! No zenii shall need to fear the forest, for a protector shall be in their heart, and by their side!"
There was an uproar of excitement. The crowd took this declaration of zenii supremacy with total adulation. Masol smiled her way, confident and unyielding.
Nimueh, in total contrast, looked utterly defeated. She looked around the crowd. If only they knew what she knew. The Beast Queen was a force beyond what they could fight against. She came here to warn them. To protect them! And she failed that task. Which meant now zenii would die. She didn’t know when or exactly where but it would happen.
With that surrender a breeze blew from the nearby forest. To all zenii it would feel like just a regular breeze. Except for Nimueh. She smelled the faint scent of blood upon the air. A shiver went down her back. She knew what this meant. The Beast Queen would make her wishes clear, by word or by claw. Words have failed, so by claw it would be. She felt herself being called back towards the forest. Perhaps the Beast Queen wished to punish her for her failure.
She looked one more time at Masol with tears already pooling in her eyes. She saw the confidence radiating from him and almost felt sick because of it. He couldn’t help them! But she could. She had the power, both magical and divine, to protect her people. “If you ever need me again, stand at the edge of the forest and shout my name.. And pray that I can hear you.” She said with a meek voice. Suddenly her form shifted and changed. In the blink of an eye she was sporting feathers and shrinking. The crowd gasped and cried out with terrified and awed surprise and confusion. Her yarene started falling to the ground as an owl flew up into the sky and then towards the forest.
Behind her, she heard the powerful bass tones of Masol's reassuring voice amidst the din, cursing her name and her Queen.
Nimueh is flying towards Masol’s blackstone hoping to speak with Masol himself. She found him in some sort of a whistling match against another zene. She figures that approaching him as an owl probably won’t work so she steals come yarenes, lands, transforms back and puts it on. In her very clever disguise she pushed through the crowd that gathered around the whistling match. And obviously someone spots her.
She gave everyone a very awkward greeting. Part of the crowd flees, the others push her into the circle. Masol tells them to let Nimueh talk. She preferred to talk with Masol alone but that’s not an option anymore. So she makes a terrible attempt to warn everyone about the Beast Queen. Masol mocks the Beast Queen. To which Nimueh flips out yelling that she’s real with uncharacteristic zeal. She goes on how she’s a goddess and how those who know the forest have felt her presence for sure.
The Foresters of the blackstone don’t say a word. Masol calls the Beast Queen evil if she would truly wish them to no longer enter the forests with baskets or pots. And then claims that there is no harm in sharing the forest's bounty. Nimueh knows better and says she doesn’t want anyone else to die. To which she’s called out as kinslayer herself already. Masol keeps pushing zenii supremacy propaganda to the great dismay of Nimueh who realizes that she was defeated.
Right at that moment Phelenia’s Edict is triggered in the forests. All zenii safe Nimueh feel it as nothing more but a light breeze. But Nimueh can feel the blood in the air. Defeated, she says that if they yell her name at the edge of the forest she might come before flying away. Though she vows that she will try and protect any kin she finds.
Nimueh Starting Spirit: 7 + 1 spirit: appears in this post + 1 spirit: Nimueh is the focus of this post + 1 spirit: medium length post + 1 spirit: being in a collab Nimueh End Spirit: 11
Phelenia starting vigor 5 - 0 (reduced from 1): Curse: Edict of Phelenia: The Forests in the valley of the First Elves will no longer suffer marks of civilization. Any mortals that walk in with such marks, like pots or wicker baskets, will suffer increased aggression from local animals.
Phelenia could see the faults in her own ways. Of course she could! What kind of a goddess would she be if she wasn’t capable of change? Oh but she had been such a fool for so long. The world was changing. It was so simple anymore.
Her siblings had weapons now. She should’ve known. Of course they had weapons that could harm the divine. She would have to make her own weapon then. One greater and mightier than anything the others could put together! The idea was already forming in her mind as she flew away from the Giant Lands.
First she would have to inspect the other continent though. For too long had she and her influence been absent. With supernatural speed she flew across the skies towards the western continent. The first real forest she found though was already a bad omen. Instead of beautiful shades of green the leaves of the canopy were crimson red. Phelenia quickly made her way down to see what wretched curse had befallen her sentinels.
But as she communed with the trees none seemed to be ill. They talked about a divine influence yet it wasn’t harming them. Despite the color this was a perfectly healthy color. Thus Phelenia saw no point in restoring the leaves to their original hue. Other plants talked in more detail about the divine that seemingly influenced them. Specifically, that she asked about her. They led her to where they claimed she came from. Phelenia followed the trail of her children. Until she stepped out of the forest again to see the most horrifying edifice to artifice she had ever seen.
It stood as tall as a mountain, and shimmered beneath the light of the majestic sun, but it lacked the life of the forest, the song of the sea and earth and sky… it was a macabre monument forged from death and destruction, held upright by the power of the divine. Nearby were three massive metallic creatures that stood along the stoney shore beside the terrible scarlet structure. They loomed over the land, like predators watching their prey, but had yet to strike.
Hidden within the aura of her own lingering presence, another goddess announced herself from behind Phelenia. “Welcome sister, I am Homura.”
Vines twisted form the ground around Homura. Tree branches reared ready to strike. From the distance the bears and the wolves were already coming in, charging. While nearby snakes were slithering up the bark of the trees. Phelenia turned in a flash with eyes that told anyone who could see her that she was ready for a fight. After the humiliation she suffered before, how could she not? “It’s unwise to move unpredictably against any divine.” She said, though she realized that she was once again doing what the giantland guardian had accused her of. With a thought she called off the predators coming to her aid but the plants remained at the ready. “Is this your domain, Homura?”
“I have no intentions of harming you. At ease, there is no reason for us to fight. I assume you are Phelenia then? It is a pleasure to meet you.” The red goddess replied, bowing respectfully. She was shaped similarly to the Zenii in Orsus, but shorter, and lacked both the musculature and pointed ears, however she still held a golden spear that exuded otherworldly power. The weapon seemed to shift, and was pointed away from Phelenia, but there was an evident tension in the air. The true form of the Goddess of Honor could not conceal her concern regarding the sight of the animals and plants that had arisen to attack her, but the unseen fiery aura was only visible through godly senses, and conveyed that it stood poised for battle should any combat occur.
Phelenia didn’t mimic Homura’s bow. “Homura.” She simply repeated as she released the tension in her hand. The plants around returned to their regular shape again. Though Phelenia was far from letting her guard down. Her eyes were on Homura’s spear. Of course, she too wielded a weapon that could no doubt harm a god. “You haven’t answered my question. Is this your domain?” The green goddess asked again as she motioned behind her, at the citadel and the three, titanic, mechanical creatures.
“I forged Keltra, and have commandeered those three colossi, but I do not claim dominion over these lands. I am a servant of the King in Heaven, and it is He whom rules both the Heavens and the Earth.” Homura answered with a voice that resonated with power after invoking one of the titles of the Monarch of All. Then she arose, and offered a sharpened smile, as though she thought the small tug of her lips a greater weapon than what she held in her hand. Her demeanor had slightly changed, less hostile now, and she took a single step closer to Phelenia.
“The land disagrees.” Phelenia noted as she looked at the red leaves. But she quickly threw her sister a smile as her guard dropped further. Though it didn’t drop entirely. After what happened in the Giant Lands she doubted she ever could release the tension she held entirely. Phelenia looked her sister over for a moment, taking her time to examine the figure. “You look… awfully similar to some creatures from the east. Is that a coincidence?”
“Hmm… perhaps. Our sister, Zenia, traveled eastward with the gifts I had given her. If you are referring to humanity, their shapes were based upon my own. I cannot say for certain, as I have not traveled to any lands east of here.” Homura explained, before slowly twirling to further allow Phelenia to see the rest of her body.
“The mother of humanity. How intriguing.” Phelenia said with a small, perhaps somewhat snide smile. The goddess of plants and animals hasn’t forgotten how flawed the zenii were, by design seemingly. The poor girl that ended up eating her fruit was so ill suited for survival in the forest. Now the goddess wondered who had made the mistake: Homura or Zenia. And then Phelenia also realized what her name sounded so familiar and in an instance some tension crept back up into her. “Homura… you are our Father’s Judge. Tell me, what are your plans with this humanity?”
“I intend to give humans to any among the Divine that would accept them. The ones that remain in my possession are still slumbering. They await the will of the Divine, that which would awaken them and give them purpose. Their shapes are malleable and easily defined by our touch, but they are fragile, and require a source of sustenance to preserve their lives. Would you like to receive some, I offer you up to ninety thousands, if that is what you want.” Her tone was cordial, but the Goddess of Honor wore an enigmatic mask, conveying no actual emotion, aside from the shadow of a smile she kept.
Phelenia watched Homura closely as she talked. A hundred thousand thoughts went through her head. There was an opportunity to show her siblings how sapience should be handled from the start. However she wasn’t blind to the emotionless state of her sister. “What do you want in return for this generous gift?” Phelenia asked.
“It is a gift. You do not need to return anything in exchange. However, I do have questions, and would appreciate it if you answered them. I recognize your scent; it is one I discovered in a region I am investigating on behalf of our brother, Chailiss. Do you know anything regarding a being known as the Green Murder?” Homura answered with a question as well, now incredibly still akin to a statue, even more so as though she were untouched by the hand of time, and was simply watching Phelenia.
“I would take you up on the offer then. In exchange for the answers you seek.” Phelenia crossed her arms. Was Homura another of the sinner beast guardians? If she was then she was a fool to search for her in her own domain. Contrary to the goddess before her, Phelenia had no issue with exercising her might over her dominion and if she came to be threatened she would use that might. “Green Murder is the name the sinner beasts gave me after the singular act they can associate with me. I killed a few of them to make sure my message would be heard. It would appear it wasn’t.” She left out the facts that Chailiss had banished her that now she might never set foot in the northern continent ever again.
“Then you know you have chosen poor methods that will only result in further death and despair. Killing them was not the answer, and now life preys upon life, it perverts itself and curses our names. You share the blame with our brother, Jiugui, for heedless action. Our choices have consequences, and affect the entirety of the cosmos. We cannot afford to make mistake after mistake. We must cooperate to protect our creations. Guide them along the Sacred Path. We must lead by example, sister.” The mask she wore cracked, and sorrow seeped into her voice. Homura spoke with conviction; with a clear desire to end the conflict and preserve life. The red goddess stepped closer, and then offered her empty hand to Phelenia.
“Let us clasp hands, and work together towards peace. Our war is not with each other, but those that would harm our children.”
The goddess of life and death did not take Homura’s hand. She just looked at her sister with a cocked eyebrow. She wanted to poke holes through all the grand statements Homura had made. The one that stuck out particularly was the idea that apparently life preying upon life seemingly perverts it. It seemed misguided. Life and death were all just part of the great cycle of the world. One could not exist without the other. Which meant that conflict was something to be accepted and not ended.
“I have no immediate quarrel with you, sister.” Phelenia said. Of course she desired to sunder the place called Keltra. It was a pox-mark upon the region. As for the colossi… she didn’t know for sure. Still, she had bigger problems in the north.
“But I know nothing of your sacred path.” She continued. “Tell me, do you truly believe death is a perversion of life? That we must guide and shelter our creations against the world?”
Homura let her hand fall back to her side before she spoke. “Hmm… would you rather I burn this forest until only ash remains, and slaughter every animal I found? I assumed that would have angered you. Then you would have lashed out at me, and I would have retaliated. The season of violence unending between us, with pain festering in the world like a great wound that can never be healed. Do you feel joy upon hearing this? Will you laugh and smile as mothers lose their children? I could call upon the animals you summoned, and slit the throats of the youths while their parents watch the life bleed out of that which they love most. It seems I was not clear, Death is the enemy and I will end its tyranny on Galbar, whether I fight alone or alongside others.”
The red goddess could feel the flames stirring within her, hot with rage until she forced herself to ventilate it into energy to sustain the land around her. She let out a breath, though she did not need to breath, before she gestured to the life surrounding the two goddesses. “You cannot have beauty, and eat it at the same time. If we do not guide our creations, then who will? Iqelis? Jiugui? We must amend our mistakes, before it is too late. I want to believe you will help me prevent the desecration of that which is sacred.” She said, and awaited Phelenia’s answer.
“Such… zeal.” For a moment Phelenia wanted to rage against it. Yell at her sister that she was wrong. Of course she was wrong! But she did not leave the Giant Lands without a modicum of introspection. Homura’s zeal mirrored her own. If she burned surely there would be war between them and Galbar would suffer because of it.
Suddenly flames erupted across Phelenia’s hand. It blackened her fingers, giving it the look of coal in an instant. The flames weren’t divine in power. They couldn’t cause harm to Homura and Phelania wanted to make sure of that. “I could unleash this now.” She said as she looked enthralled at the flames. “And your example would become a reality. As the fires would spread they would take tree after tree after tree. They would all be turned into ash and charcoal. So many animals would die. If not by the flames or the smoke itself then by the starvation that would follow. And I would stand here and do nothing.” The flames vanished from her hand and it regained its young bark-like look. “Because it would’ve been their time. After the devastation passed the first fire-blooming seeds would sprout. From them new trees would grow and in a few decades a whole new forest would be born. Until, of course, it too was burned or crushed or flooded.” Phelenia spoke slowly and deliberately.
“Such is the cycle of life and death. The cycle of nature. Would you prefer it if the world was static and unchanging?”
“You are the second to ask that question, and I find it bemusing. To allow this insanity to persist is the very act of accepting stagnation and suggests a fear of change. I am proposing to change the world, yet your question indicates that you think nothing would ever change again if we focused upon preventing our annihilation instead of satisfying ourselves. What evidence do you have to support this theory? Our current situation? Your cycle of life and death is an excuse you tell yourself to avoid the task given to us by our Lord. It is unnatural, unless you are blind to your own being. Do you think we should begin killing each other? That our Lord would enjoy watching us consume each other? We have an obligation to remedy —”
“Stop.” Phelenia said. She didn’t shout but she had put all her strength in her voice. “Where is this coming from?” She asked sternly. “From all the gods I have ever met you are the only one who rages so against death. Even my enemy in the north acknowledged to some degree that death had a place in this world. Yet you stand here before the goddess of nature claiming you know what is unnatural. Why?”
Homura tilted her head, surprised at being interrupted. She blinked once, before she replied nonchalantly. “Oh. Chailiss is a coward, I would have thought that obvious when you have said it yourself; he has acknowledged death and its victory over his own land. Truthfully, I find the creatures there disgusting, but I do not hate them. I only pity them because their makers so readily abandoned them. I also claim I know what is unnatural because I am a goddess of nature as well, as I had hoped would be obvious.”
“You haven’t answered my question.” Phelenia said skeptically.
“Perhaps you should reiterate it then, as I have provided an answer already. I explained my reasoning, and offered a solution. I will only repeat myself once more; if we allow ourselves to continue on our current path, we will only annihilate ourselves, and that goes against the command of our Lord. I propose we cooperate for now, fortify ourselves and fight against those that would bring destruction and despair to Galbar. We have created life. Now we must prove ourselves worthy of defending it. We cannot stray from the Sacred Path.” Homura answered, allowing conviction to seep into her voice, while her face remained impassive.
All Phelenia could see was another god that was hell bent on protecting life when instead they should learn to let it go when the time comes. Only a few days ago she would’ve fulfilled Homura’s threat herself. If only to teach the goddess before her a lesson. However right now Phelenia did not have the luxury to wage another war.
The goddess of nature stepped up to one of the trees and gave it a soft tap. A few leaves in the canopy withered. Their dried forms gently drifted down upon the wind. Good, Homura had at least the sense to not turn everything immortal around her just yet. Still, the goddess would have to be watched lest she upset the natural balance.
Then Phelenia turned back towards her sister. “I disagree.” She said plainly as she crossed her arms. She hadn’t forgotten about the spear Homura carried. Divine power was swirling just below Phelenia’s fingertips. She was ready to use it at any moment should the red goddess lash out.
“So be it. You are not the first to disagree, and you will not be the last. I digress, will you be accepting my gifts, or not?” Homura asked, her tone unchanged.
“No.” Phelenia said as she started to walk around Homura, back into the forest. “I will not put myself in the position where I owe you a favor. You are wrong sister. On all counts.” As the goddess passed Homura the very branches of the trees and shrubs began to subtly shift to cloak Phelenia in darkness.
“Hmm… we shall see. Farewell, sister.”
Phelenia, beaten, flies towards Termina to inspect how things are going there. She encounters Kel-Phelena and wanders through the forest until she encounters the 3 colossi and Keltra. Which she obviously finds disgusting. Homura catches her from behind and introduces herself. Phelenia notices she looks a lot like the zenii in Orsus and Homura explains that this is because humanity is created in her image. She tells Phelenia she basically gives away the humans to whoever wants them. Though Phelenia asks about her endgame.
Homura insists it's just a gift but would like some answers too if Phelenia would give them. She asks about the Green Murder and Phelenia freely admits that that is her own title. Homura chastises Phelenia for the way she tried to work with the mortals there. She explains how she believes life perverts itself because it kills and can die basically. She wants to ally herself with Phelenia to stop that.
Obviously Phelenia’s not about that business. She doesn’t want to fight either considering she just got her ass handed to her. She asks if Homura truly believes the things she preaches. Homura asks if the mother of plants and animals would be angry if Homura burned down the entire forest (anticipating that the goddess would be against it and thus proving her point that death is bad). Phelenia, instead, seems fine with the idea that the forest burns down and then asks if Homura wants the world to just be static.
Homura goes on a rant about how she is instead proposing a change in the world and that death is basically unnatural. Until Phelenia stops her and asks why she feels this way, considering not even her enemy feels like that. Homura says Chailiss is just a coward and says she pities the creatures (bjork) living there. Which isn’t an answer to Phelenia. Homura just repeats everything she said already: that they are seemingly on a path to annihilating themselves. Phelenia disagrees. The offer of humans is given again but Phelenai declines to take them and leaves.
Phelenia start vigor: 5 No vigor used Phelenia end vigor: 5
Lord Zee
DracoLunaris
sly13