The portal to the Walled Garden eases open, an oval of absolute darkness filling the bounds of the archway. Stepping through, the heritors find...a small villa, a noble's estate perhaps. It perches on a cliffside, the ground dropping away beyond the marble walls into a misty void. It is nothing like the previous Road, nothing whatsoever.

It appears to be empty, and still, and silent. There are no Uncreated, nor any angelic constructs, nothing moving at all. It has an eerie atmosphere, though, shadows flickering and an uncomfortable feeling of being watched. When you find, after some labor, the exit buried deep within the villa's heart, it comes as a definite relief.

Through this portal, the Walled Garden appears. You step out through an archway formed by tree branches into a large woodland area. It's late evening, and the air smells of flowers. Paper lanterns hang from the trees, each one marked with some kind of symbol that is difficult to read - a divergent dialect, perhaps? No one is easily visible, but there is a well-worn trail proceeding not far away.

A quick glance confirms that the trees around you are all varieties that have sweet blossoms or edible fruits - cherry, peach, apple, orange, it doesn't seem to matter whether they should all grow in the same climate. The undergrowth has smaller plants of the same sort, whether they be wild strawberry or rambling blackberry bushes.

It hadn't been the cleanest method, but with no clear starting point, pulling randomly from the lists of the portals that sounded most intriguing had been the only clear way to narrow their focus enough to prepare for what might be on the far side. Rashana was there and ready, dressed lightly, adding a satchel across her frame with some supplies to her former attire, but remaining fairly simply-garbed, practical but pretty.

After operating the device, she spared the others a glance, and passed through first, taking the lead, since this had been one of the portals she'd tossed into the mix of the list. She was on guard, passing through the Night Road, tense and ready to act - but the road seemed quiet in passing, this time, a relief.

Emerging into the Garden itself, she cast an eye about, but stayed close by the portal, waiting for the others - particularly Sani, as she expected the other inheritor would find a lot of interest here, and could likely offer a great deal of insight.

She spotted and inspected the lanterns, however, and noted the actual path through the area, but waited for the others to emerge as she made some simple observations about the lantern's material and structure. She didn't tap into her miraculous gifts to intuit deeper details, not yet, but a cursory expert examination alone would surely tell plenty.

"It's... pretty here, lots of... edible plants, it looks like?" She mused. "I'm no expert, but it seems strange to see so many varieties sharing a garden..."

Alvatter walked through the portal next, stepping off to the side as he took in the surroundings. The Walled Garden seemed to be true to its name, at least in part. He spoke idly as he surveyed the area for any active forms of magic or theurgy that might be hidden beyond his casual first inspection.

"If nothing else this gate can provide us some immediate stocks of food and fertile land to grow future crops. Lumber as well although we would have to be mindful about cutting anything down lest we upset the ecological balance of this Realm. Or Realm fragment."

Alvatter activates Subtle Eye of Knowing

"Simply taking whatever we find without concern for whomever created it is... probably not the wisest course. There's some degree of magic at work in this combination of plants - it wouldn't be possible to grow them in the same place like this under normal circumstances. Moreover, these lanterns seem like magical warding, though, only backed by mild magic..."

She inspected the one nearest her, reading the markings on it... "Not sure if it's all one being, or more than one. They refer to it as a Collector, Lampkeeper, Guardian, and  Watcher...?" She cast an eye about, awaiting the others, clearly a bit wary of things, though also curious. "This path is well-worn, too. Regularly walked."

Alvatter's divine powers revealed to him the subtle magic of this Realm and as he was nearing to speak on it Rashana divulged the same insights. Furthermore she had actually be capable of reading the divergent dialect where he had not. Coughing to cover his sudden embarrassment he nodded a few times in agreement with her words.

"Yes, I uh."

"I suppose we should follow it then. Perhaps find out who inhabits this realm."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Thu 22 Oct 2020.

  The darkness flexes again, and La comes through.  She again seemss ready to take notes, but the datapads hadn't worked properly since they arrived in Nexus, so she carries pen and paper instead.  She immediately bows low to Alvatter and Rashana, as is her habit, but usually, she stands up again.  This time she freezes in place, at an angle that must be a strain for her back.  She turns only her head to one side and stares, then glares in perplexity, at a patch of wild strawberry.

  "What did you do...?" Even at a whisper, the question comes as an accusation.  It takes her a second to realize that, and when she does she becomes upright, red-faced, and drawn in on herself so fast, she barely seems to cover the intervening space.  "A life of apologies, Holy Ones.  This one does not presume to critique the designs of Your Divinities.  And, it seems strikingly unlikely that this place has been touched by them.  This one was merely startled by the... strange appearance of the fruit.  The words were not meant for anyone at all."

Moving along the cobbled path, the paper lanterns continue to cast their light over the plants and stones of the Garden. More and more fruits and flowers can be seen, each plant flourishing, the air sweetly scented with jasmine and lavender and sakura blossoms. The grasses sway in a faint breeze, but the air is warm and comfortable.

After perhaps twenty minutes, a short wooden palisade comes into view. More enchanted paper lanterns hang from it, each one brightly colored and shining with a fierce light. And...a familiar one...

Before you can fully process the fact that you're seeing Laila's divine Light coming from within those lanterns, a watchman calls out from the palisade, the words oddly accented but still comprehensible. "Hail, travelers. Well met."

Moving along the path Alvatter kept his senses tuned to the arcane, trying to be aware of any sources of magic other than those that were sustaining the plants in the area. This kept him from appreciating the natural splendor of his surroundings but it was a small price to pay for awareness. Of course he still wasn't prepared to find Laila's own divine energies burning in the paper lanterns that lined the palisades. Taking a moment to gather himself he stepped out and called up to the man.

"Well met to you as well. My name is Alvatter and these are my companions. We would seek entry."

The watchman nods amiably. "Certainly, certainly. You don't seem hostile, I see no reason why not. Let me get the gate for you."

The gate swings open, revealing a settlement built of stone and wood. Most of the architecture is very old, and of an unfamiliar, flowing style. People are moving around dressed in fine cloth, silks and linens predominating. Almost universally, they are beautiful, and graceful. The heritors attract some odd looks on the way inside, but no one actually stops them.

It's hard to miss the paper lanterns everywhere, each one blazing with a spark of divine Light. Each one has those same glyphs on it - old wards, not terribly strong, and invocations of protection against the Lampkeeper.

"I expect you'll want to talk to Madam al-Saif, seeing as you're visitors," the guard continues blithely. "Not too often we see any of those aside from traders."

"Thank you" he said, casting a quick glance to his companions. He had not known them to violent but they certainly were dangerous in their own way. Still he didn't see any need in undercutting their own objectives and proceeded into the city as the gates opens. He took a moment to survey his surroundings, once again looking for signs of magic. The appearances of the towns people did not slip his notice and he suppressed a blush as a sudden feeling of being underdressed passed over him. Stumbling into a reply he tried to carry the conversation as naturally as possible.

"Ah yes, yes of course. We would very much appreciate an audience with this Madam al-Saif."

As they walked he asked a few questions of the man.

"You mentioned traders earlier. From whereabouts do they come from and what is it that they are trading with you."

"If you don't mind humoring my curiosity that is."

  La, on the other hand, blends in much better in her tastefully subdued ceremonial robes, even as her behavior makes her stand out. She hasn't come down from her goggle-eyed shock at the most impossibly mundane things around them, but barely glances at the lanterns except to grumble something about lighting the sun. A pair of locals passes especially close, once, to where she is gingerly prodding a cobblestone, and she slips into place with them, just an old friend gathered on the way to somewhere else. In seconds, she's gone without leaving, another ornamental servant in a land full of them. For that matter, the inhabitants' fluid grace is familiar, as an approximation of hers.

  The temple girl appears a few more times as the others follow the Watchman, always in a group, never quite close enough to talk to.

Bire La's odd behavior definitely caught the artisan's eye, though she gave it no comment once the apology came, a small shake of her head serving as the only reply, with no real presence of judgement or negativity.  No need for an apology, as she saw it.

Advancing with the rest, there were more of the lanterns, with something warm and familiar about the light, though vaguely so. Alvatter made introductions when they were called upon, and that suited Rashana, as she continued to observe, keeping close.

She didn't notice exactly when Bire slipped away from the group, but did notice her absence, after several moments - nothing she brought attention to, but it was only furthering her curiosities about the slip of a girl. Alvatter's questions mirrored her own, so she allowed them to stand for her as well, her eyes searching the area, mentally mapping what she could see, making some inferences of what she couldn't. The fact of a simple wall told her plenty... either it had been erected in a hurry against the threat they faced, or wood was a sufficient defense against it and it hadn't needed to be improved, especially given the stonework on display...

The group follows along behind the guard, and are soon shown to a particularly large and ornate stone home. Inside, in a sitting room with plush silk upholstery and carved wooden ornaments, an older woman is having tea with...Laila. But Laila looks not quite as she did before, back on the Night Road.

The other woman looks up and smiles. "Ah, guests. Do come in, have some tea. I am Kayla al-Saif, you might think of me as the leader of our little home. This is Laila Casryn, a recent arrival herself."

Leaving it to Laila to describe how her appearance and demeanor have changed.

Situated comfortably on a seat more throne than chair, its lacquered arms patterned with intricate swirls, sat one Laila Casryn, a tall teacup of gilded glass in her right hand. Having just taken a sip she lowered her cup, idly looked to the new arrivals at the doorway, and sharply froze. Naked and unguarded shock flashed in her eyes – her hand shuddered, wavered on its path – but then she seemed to find herself again. Laila leaned forward and gently set her glass down on the dark wood table. The clink it made was slight but rang clean and clear. It roused a sudden tautness in her jaw.

She stilled a breath to let the tension ebb, her lips a tight thin line, then smoothly rose and turned to meet her past.

Even at a glance it was clear that Laila had changed – that this was not the brash and uncompromising figure they had left within the Night. She had the air of someone more mature about her, more measured and comfortable within her own skin. Indeed one could almost believe her older by more than the mere days and weeks that they had been apart, and with the strangeness of the space that lay between realms who could say for sure that such was not the case. She seemed more and yet at the same time somehow less.

At some point in her absence she had cast aside her former wardrobe for something a little more practical. Rather than her pristine uniform of gleaming white she was dressed merely in well-tailored dark pants, boots of fine leather and a sleeveless white shirt that felt downright stark in surrounds so dominated by finery and excess. With her right arm uncovered it now revealed a tattoo like a golden sunburst that traced smoothly along the contours of her skin to terminate on the back of her hand. A half-cape of a deep crimson trimmed with delicate golden thread adorned her left shoulder and hung loose over her side, its silhouette almost enough to mask the absence of her arm. But there was no hiding that particular loss.

Laila looked out at her former companions with eyes that eyes that didn’t burn so bright, their edges marked by dark rings that outshone her makeup. Something pulled at her lips, some nameless warring emotion, and her breath seemed to catch. Her hand settled on her collarbone.

“Is this a dream…?” she asked, voice thick. “I thought you were lost to me.”
This message was last edited by the player at 01:09, Thu 05 Nov 2020.

Rashana came in with a gentle nod of her head in respect and politeness, but as the woman made introductions, she raised her eyes to the woman's guest, and her breath caught briefly. Laila Casryn.

The color half-drained from her face at the name, and she felt her throat tense into a knot. Laila's loss had hurt and more than once she'd warred with herself about reinstalling the lever and going back through to find her, to at least see what had become of her - but always the safety of the survivors had been enough to keep her from actually following through. To find her here, though, unexpected, clearly having endured a great deal...

"Y-You're here? Laila?" Rashana's voice slightly broke, as one hand came up to cover her mouth, left gaping slightly open. Green eyes blinked and batted a time or two, as if doubting what they were seeing. And then they took it all in, passing over Laila's bared arm, her new attire... the simple mantle that concealed - only just, the absence of her left arm. And the familiar blade she'd crafted for her, what felt like only weeks ago, and yet her eyes could see the wear on the stained-glass blade matched that of its wielder.

Rashana moved forward quickly, and rushed to wrap her arms around Laila's shoulders, answering her with a tensely audible breath. "I didn't think we'd ever see you again..."

The moment was quick, and Laila could hear her swallow before she managed to step back, taking about a half-breath in deep, before quietly expelling it and looking to  the other woman. "Ummm. I'm sorry. It's just... We weren't expecting to find Laila here..." She looked back to the dark-haired woman, her expression still kind of in shock. "...You... you've been through a lot, it looks like. More than we have... it's been... weeks since we lost you..."

Rashana seemed entirely off her balance, but steadying herself, trying to, at the least. How successful she was being was entirely another question.

  A servant refills the cup, without instruction, without fanfare or flourish, and immediately withdraws to—  No one is there.  Kayla keeps no household staff.  A bittersweet melody picks up Rashana's explanation, matching the tone of her last five words and elaborating on the theme from there.  It's a bell chorus, or a piano, or maybe a distant flute, and it comes from no place.  An image in stark black and white flashes in the window.  It's the shape of a person but gone instantly.  Then nothing.  Quiet.  Peace like firelight warm on the face.  Incense in the air, punctuating the perfume of so many flowers—so many—with slashes of vetiver and myrrh.

Faced with Rashana’s sudden embrace it was all Laila could do to keep her feet. She held a moment, almost unsure how to react, before throwing any sense of decorum to the wind and allowing herself to melt into the all-too-welcome hug. Laila’s hand found its way to Rashana’s back and settled in between her shoulder blades, drawing soft circles with her fingertips. She leaned in close and earnestly whispered “I’m here; I promise you I’m here” almost as much for her own sake as the other woman’s nerves.

Her eyes were shining when they parted, and even after she had blinked them clear, head turned slightly to one side of the sake of her blushes, they still seemed so much brighter. More alive. The smile she offered Alavatter in the aftermath (hadn’t there been someone else too?) felt almost apologetic. No similar show of affection was forthcoming however.

“I hesitate to say how long we’ve been apart. The Garden has been my home for...” a quick glance to Kayla as if to confirm her thoughts “...certainly something like that, but time moves strangely in the Night. How long it took me to find my way here, I really don’t know. I couldn't begin to guess”

Laila pursed her lips a moment, considering something, then seemed to think better of it. “Please have a seat, both of you, and I’ll try my best to explain things.” She gestured to the table. “Tea? I assure you it's quite excellent”
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:34, Thu 05 Nov 2020.

The blonde was tense, Laila could definitely feel that much, as the embrace settled form unexpected into a gentle moment. Laila's whisper seemed to sooth some of it, and tighten other hints of tension, questions doubtless swirling in the blonde's head. But that was enough.

Laila seemed brighter, after, that was clear enough to her. "You certainly seem to have  been through a lot more than we have. Things were... relatively smooth, once we parted ways... I suppose we owe that to you..." There was some very real guilt behind her words, her head lowering slightly. The offer of tea drew her eye back to the table, and back to Kayla al-Saif. She nodded gently, and moved at the invitation from Laila, taking up a seat smoothly, hand brushing down over her sturdy skirt.

"Ahem... I will have some, thank you. I am Rashana." She introduced herself with lowering of her head to the other woman present.

Laila drew in Madam al-Saif’s attention with a tilt of her head, looking to supplement that introduction. She spoke with the familiarity of one well-versed in such social protocol. “Rashana is a dear friend of mine and quite possibly the finest engineer and artisan in all the realms. She and I forged Dawnbringer together” - a brush of her sword’s hilt - “and I count myself blessed to have such a thing at my side. To have someone like her at my side again.”

“But Shana, please” she gently chided, keen to buoy up her companion. “Whatever you’ve achieved in the Nexus, I had no part in it. I gave our people a moment of hope, yes, but you and the others have had to reassure and comfort them anew with each passing day. If anything I am indebted to all of you for carrying my share of that responsibility.” Laila leaned in a little closer and her voice gave way to absolute sincerity. “Please remember that what happened was my choice and the consequences mine alone to bear. We’ve both of us fought our own battles, and that I have a few more scars to show for mine makes your victories no less worthy. Be glad that I am here, not aggrieved that some small piece of me is not; be proud of yourself like I am proud of you.”

Point made, and one last meaningful look shared with Rashana, she smoothly moved on to the other inheritor with a lazy wave of her hand.

“As for Alavatter, he is a man of learning and wisdom. Though we spent little time together before our parting, I always welcomed his council and found his knowledge and guidance invaluable. I’m sure his mind has served our people well in this unfamiliar new world, for there is no-one I would sooner trust to unravel its mysteries and problems. I think he might have much to offer you here in the Garden.”

The work of introductions done, her smile and easy warmth held a moment before giving way to an expression altogether more pensive. A look passed between Laila and their host that carried something, some silent conversation, before she nodded, licked her lips and turned to her friends. Her arm drifted over to hold her left side. “So… to more serious matters: the Roads and my journey here.”

“When I chose to stay and hold the line I did so hoping more than just to play the martyr. Rashana had proven that thing could be hurt, and that was enough to assure me such a stand didn’t have to end in death. It was a stupid thing to tell myself – arrogance of the worst kind – but in that moment I let myself believe it: I could do what seemed impossible and save everyone, even me. The people would truly see that we were Anaya’s heirs, and they would cause to hope again.” She laughed but it was a bitter hollow thing. “And I called Joshua a fool...”

“We were far from equals, myself and the beast. Perhaps on more favourable ground we might have matched it had we all stood together, but we were in the Night and I was the one who stood alone while swarmed by its smaller kin. I held for … not long is all I can say. Minutes perhaps. Even then it felt like I was being toyed with rather than truly tested. Like my efforts were an amusement and nothing more, to be ended as soon as it grew tired of the show.” Laila brought her hand up to her left shoulder and lightly patted the remains of her arm. “This could have been my head had it wished it. It broke my guard, tore my arm from me, and just … left me there like I was nothing. And I don’t know why. It would have been so easy to kill me, and yet it didn’t.”

“I sealed my wounds as best I could, and for a time I stayed there at the gate. I expected something from the Night would scent my blood and come to finish me, but there was only the dark and the quiet. It was almost peaceful.” She gave Rashana an apologetic look, as if she knew better than to say what came to mind yet could not help herself. “After a while I did try the gate, if only to be sure. I knew there would be no answer, but …”

Laila’s voice trailed off into a sigh. It was wearing on her, picking at her scars. That these things needed to be voiced, to be aired so they might better heal, made the process no easier. All that brilliant excitement of reunion was running thin and in its absence she seemed much diminished. “In the end I chose to walk the Roads. I had been given a chance at life, and even if that meant travelling blind and helpless it was still the only choice worth making. I wanted to live and to see you all again. That was enough to keep me going through the pain and the exhaustion and the sheer loneliness of it all. I couldn’t give up knowing that if I had just pushed myself a little further I might have found a way home and justified every last agony.”

“It was sheer luck that I found the Garden, and even more so that they found me near-dead on the path. Kayla and her people worked miracles to see me well, and as if I did not have enough to thank them for, now they have brought us together too.” Laila laughed again, honestly this time, and shook her head in what could only have been disbelief. “After all that, to have the pieces fall back together so easily ... just unbelieveable.”

As Laila stepped in to fill in the muted introduction she'd given herself, Rashana found herself rather on the spot, her cheeks  warming a little at Laila's glowing acknowledgement of her talents. She actually looked slightly away, at least until Laila addressed her directly. Her head turned and her eyes lifted to the dark-haired inheritor, looking perhaps a little stunned by the diminutive at play.

As she leaned in and went on a bit further, the maker's lips pressed together a bit more thinly and shifted into a slight smile, before her eyes lowered to her tea, and she pulled the cup closer, in both hands, to take a drink and sample it. Quietly, a breath left her lips, relaxing a small knot of tension in her stomach. Laila went on to introduce Alavatter, then to begin to talk about what she'd experienced.

Rashana turned her attention back to Laila as her story started, a soft expression on her face as she listened and digested the tale quietly. She felt her throat tighten, though, when Laila brought up the gate, and her eyes lowered again, turned slightly away as that twist in her gut returned. Her mouth parted slightly, then closed, as she pulled her lower lip in with a restless nip of her teeth. Laila continued, and she looked back to her, bringing her tea up for a drink - and a quick, subtle brush of the edge of her eye with a finger.

"...I'm... just glad you made it, Laila." She said, after a moment of quiet, leaning back in her seat with a quiet sigh, arms folding across her stomach and her hands taking hold of the opposite elbows lightly. Not quite the guarded look of crossed arms, it was a softer posture, though not a fully relaxed one. Her eyes moved to their thus-far quiet host.

"As am I," replied Laila fondly. She quirked her head towards the pair. "But enough about me: why is it that you are here?"

Alvatter, for his part, had stood in shocked silence for a long moment as his mind attempted to grapple with the realities of what he was witnessing. Before his Laila, one of the few Inheritors to have survived the collapse of their world but seemingly lost to the Night Road or the web of realms it connected to. She had aged, grown more mature, but more importantly she lived. As she spoke he regained some composure over himself and searched her with his divine powers, seeking out magic that might prove some fell illusion or blighted influencing of the mind and percepts. When he found none a weight he didn't know he carried lifted from his shoulders.

It was then that she introduced him and he blushed, a hand reflexively going to the back of his slightly too long hair. He looked down to avoid glancing into the woman's eyes.

"You flatter me. I am but one of many learned men that survived the collapse of our world but yes should you need of my services I am fully prepared and willing to assist however I may."

He then moved into the area proper, responding to Laila's question.

"We were investigating the many gateways of the Nexus. It was only be chance, or perhaps Fate, that we came upon the Garden first. We have a food situation you see. Nothing immediately pressing but without a stable food supply the people of the Nexus will be taxed."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:03, Mon 09 Nov 2020.

Kayla al-Saif smiles a little, busying herself making tea while the new arrivals talk with Laila. She returns and sets cups on the table before sitting back down. "So you are other travelers of the Roads Between Spaces, then? Interesting. It has been...many years since we saw one, much less a whole group of you." She shakes her head, expression bemused.

"Still, if you are friends of Layla's, then I think you friends of mine - she has been most kind helping us with the ward-lanterns. You say you need food, would you like something to eat? I can offer you fruit." Her tone is sardonic as she says this.

  Somewhere that is anywhere in the hedge maze outside the houses, La stands—unsteadily—at the edge of safety.  The last lantern lit.  She contemplates it for a time, and puts a little effort into coming up with the best way to take it down and carry it, but turns away from the project ultimately having done little but scurry aroundhasn't moved an inchand look at things.  The lantern is in her hand all the same, shining on just fine as she starts out into the twilight beyond.

  "Fishmonger, fishmonger, sell me your catch," she whispers rounding a corner some minutes later.  She hasn't seen movement that wasn't the breeze since she left the fortified spaces behind, and lately, the juice has been wringing itself out of every berry she passes.  The children's song is a call-and-response one.  She peeks down every path she doesn't take, at least a little bit.  "I've nothing to sell.  The seas are all dry~"

"Of a sort, it would seem." Rashana answered Kayla's assessment. "Travelers only insomuch as a disaster befell our world and, before that, the Goddess who watched over it. I, Layla, Alvatter, and several others were, as best as can be surmised, touched with shades of her power as she faded away, a last gift, and it was we who rallied out people to escape. We lost several on the road, Layla among them, when she held the gate out we had discovered. We have come across a strange, empty-seeming realm with a great deal of construction, including an array of gateways that seem to open other portals - this was the first we had investigated in the hopes of solutions to problems that linger less powerfully than immediate safety." She elaborated, looking to Layla, perhaps filling her in on what she'd missed - or rather, hadn't missed, really.

There was a brief pause, and then a nod, as she actually shifted from exposition to answering... "But yes, fruit sounds good to me... Thank you."

Kayla busies herself in the kitchen, and brings out a tray of fruits - everything from pomegranate and mango to more familiar fruits like apples, and to some truly exotic things - spiny melons filled with seeds in thick goop, crimson cruits with creamy interiors, and star-shaped citrus slices.

"Here, my home is your home," the mayor says, setting the tray down and taking her seat again. "Laila's help against the Lampkeeper has been invaluable. He has not taken anyone from the settlement, since her arrival, and only some few who were out in the forest. The lanterns keep him at bay again, as long as they remain in the pattern."

She sips her tea and sighs. "Of course we remain under siege. We need meat from the forest, game, to stay healthy. But that is his domain. Some of our foragers don't return, from any given trip out."

Meanwhile, in a darker place, La takes the ward-lantern and carries it out into the gathering night...

She isn't sure how long she's been walking through the floral trees, when she begins the children's song. But she hears the reply. It isn't one she's familiar with, but it fits the rhythm of the song.

"Then sell me your child, fisher-man, and I will bring the fish back." The voice is a smooth baritone, rich and resonant and filled with something that lurks beneath the surface like a sharp-toothed fish beneath ocean waves. "He did, you know. Brought his boy down to the water's edge, and gave him to the god of the sea. And the god of the sea brought the fish back to that part of the ocean."

The source of the voice steps out of the shadows beneath the trees. He's a tall man, with features fine enough as to look a little eerie, and skin so pale it seems more like a ceramic than healthy flesh. In one hand he holds a delicate-looking hooked knife, a karambit. The blade gleams like molten silver and moonlight pressed into a solid form. In the other, an old fashioned lamp, where an emerald flame burns too steady atop a reservoir of something that does not smell like oil. More like blood.

"Good evening, young lady," the Lampkeeper says. His smile is perfectly unreadable, alien, an imitation of a thing one does not understand. "It's a lovely night for a walk. Don't you think?"

Alvatter quirks his head to the side somewhat, looking to Kayla.

"Under siege you say?"

"What is it that this Lampkeeper is after within the settlement? And he is abducting people. Whatever for?"

He had a sneaking suspicion as to what the answer would be but he decided it best to ask rather than assume.

"Oh, nobody really knows for sure," Kayla says easily. "Just know that they don't come back, and sometimes someone sees him taking them with him into the forest. Always from a distance. And nobody finds anything of them, not even a lock of hair or a shed garment, ever again." She sips tea. "It's happening more, the past few years, then it used to. But it's always happened."

Her tone is almost eerily casual. As though she's describing a storm more than a thinking, dangerous being. Certainly something to be saddened and upset by, but there's no real trace of anger in her voice, and no sense of conflict.

Laila couldn’t wholly mask her grimace. Even being more familiar with the circumstances in which the Garden found itself, with how its people had adjusted, she was still far from jaded towards that vague yet ever-present threat. It ate at her in a manner her hosts had clearly long since put behind them.

“I’ve walked much of the borderline while working to strengthen the wards, but thus far I’m yet to see any sign of him. Whether that's good luck or him having some awareness of my power ...” Laila tailed off, answering her own question with a shrug. “I had been considering heading off the path to seek him out alone, but after what happened the last time I tried something like that it seemed a risk too far. Not without an actual plan.”

Alvatter listened to both Kayla and Laila before retrieving a small book and reservoir pen from his robes. For those curious as to its nature the book was bound in what appeared to be polished wood and its binding nothing more than simple loops of twine, a classic sign of the mass produced journals carried by many of the Archivists.

Lampkeeper

Entity of unknown nature that is currently inhabiting the Walled Garden, possible native entity. Known for abductions which leave no material evidence behind. May also have theurgic detection capabilities. Currently is being repulsed by warded lanterns. Further investigation needed.

He scrutinized his notes some before speaking again.

"If you'll humor a few more questions could you describe to me this Lampkeeper. You mentioned that some have seen them at a distance but how clearly have they seen then and are they confident there is only one of these Lampkeepers rather than a group or species of them. For that matter why do they have the name Lampkeeper."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:19, Tue 17 Nov 2020.

  If he is ceramic, she is a porcelain doll, stark white and idealized as she hadn't been, once.  But her valley is canny in the extreme, and her presence meets his Menace with Invitation.  She may be a marionette, even, with the way she freezes mid-stride at the first hint of his voice, in a position that surely can't be stably balanced.  She pivots as she places her foot back down, until she faces the visitor, respectfully attentive.  Typical of her.  Atypical: she meets his eyes with an unabashed smile, the muted sort you see when the pleasant emotions are a choice.

  "It's always night here, even in the daytime.  And it's always lovely."  But she takes a few steps closer and holds a hand up, palm down and relaxed as though she expects him to take it.  In her other, the lantern's golden flame jumps erratically.  "Come, appreciate it with me before the nightmare begins.  Show me the shore and the fish, so that I understand the moon.  You're part of it all; you're what I saw peeking through the gaps.  I need to learn that trick so I never lose track.  Come."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:48, Mon 16 Nov 2020.

"He's a pale man, very pale. Seems to be the same - we've never seen him in two places at once." Kayla's voice is easy. "As for the other, well, he carries a lamp. Old thing, made of silver, but it burns with a green flame. We call him other things, but Lampkeeper is the main one, because that lamp seems important to him - we've never seen him without it. No one has."

The Lampkeeper take's La's hand (where did the knife go? He didn't sheathe it, but it's not there now) and smiles at her. His touch is deathly cold, like a corpse, or snow, or wind. "Let us walk, then," he says, and takes a step off of the marked path, into the trees.

"It's an old story, the fisherman and the sea god," he says. "Very old indeed, and much lost in the retelling. But the shape of it is true. Offer enough, and one receives in trade. But it always has a cost..." His voice is melancholy, now, laced through with bittersweet sorrow.

"So tell me," he says, "what will you offer? What toll do you have, that I should tell you the secrets of the forest? I know many things and more, that I have learned over this long life. But there's nothing in this world or the next that comes without a price."

The Lampkeeper gently tugs her onward, through the blooming trees. The only light is the lamp he carries, and the lantern that she does. The air smells richly of jasmine and cherry, sandalwood incense and floral perfume.

"How very odd." he said, all the while amending his notes on the Lampkeeper.

Appears as a pale-skinned humanoid male. Believed to a singular entity. Carries a silver lantern that burns with an unnatural green hue, likely related in some fashion to its deeper nature.

He turned to look at the Laila then.

"When you created these lanterns did you know that they would repel the Lampkeeper or was an it an unintended consequence?"

It would be clear to all assembled that Alvatter would continue to ask questions until he either exhausted the groups patience or someone interjected with more pressing matters.

  "I come from further than that," La replies by way of reassurance and does not immediately proffer an answer. She seems content for the time being to follow, though her instruction had been for him to, and to relish the beauty all around them. Well, to relish something. She actually pays little enough attention to the sensory delights, from all appearances.

  Eventually though, a response is ready. "The fisherman cannot become the god of the sea. The sea has what he needs, so he cannot be its master. He will always pay what he takes. I think I am the shore the fisherman stands on when he begs, and all the land behind it. Do you know what that's like, to feel so vast? I'm still not sure I do; I don't have a single word for it. Now, let's be serious."

  Nothing about her increasingly dreamy smile or the overt friendliness in her voice changes to clarify what being serious could mean, aside from the subject matter. "You've chosen the destination and the reward. And I am flattered, but I will still need an invoice. And an estimate for the rest. And throw away your first, because it won't be honest enough, and then you're the fisherman's wife."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:54, Tue 17 Nov 2020.

“Oh, I did not create the lanterns,” Laila replied with a light shake of the head. “The practice was already well-established when I arrived here, but the magic bound to them had long been waning. I would not like to guess how long it might have been until they proved no defence at all against the Lampkeeper.”

“After spending some time with Zara – she crafts the lanterns – it was not difficult to replicate that same power with my own and to shed a piece of myself into each new ward we made together. The difference was dramatic to say the least, like the sun and a dying candle.“ She chuckled warmly, “Not that I mean to brag of course; the honest truth.”
This message was last edited by the player at 00:16, Wed 18 Nov 2020.

"You remind me of her, a little, a touch," the Lampkeeper says to La, his tone meditative. "You ask an invoice? Very well. A price for each question you want an answer to, a sacrifice. Life and love and laughter, all the things that she needs. Not all of it, no, just a touch...and I will answer your question honestly and completely. I have no intention to take more, or to be deceptive with my answers; that is beneath such as you and I. Does that sound fair, O Goddess of the Land?"

  "Fair is not the measuring-spoon that rattles in the drawer," La replies in a singsong. She slips her hand free from the Lampkeeper's, leaving behind a lavender mushroom the size of her thumb. The note tied around it with red string says "Eat me." She has found a rosebush in a trice, and when the roses here prove too pleasant to have thorns, she plucks a single large petal instead. "You should have asked if it's safe."

  She draws the edge of the petal down the center of her left hand, along the seventy-ninth meridian and its deep flows of wood chi, and it bites deep as any knife: even that one. The first drops to emerge were intensely red, but the color of the roses rather than of blood. But once the residue is flushed away, what ruins out in sheets is a synesthetic riot of texture and sound, flavor and direction. It quickly becomes difficult to hear anything but the wordless exclamations, always from just behind, that splash up every time a drop of worry strikes the undergrowth.

  "It isn't. But you offered without asking. The girl laughs with widdershins eyes and extends her kaleidoscope voice, and the leaves in the trees around them echo her words in his voice and vice versa. La raises her bloody hand, steps in close, and flattens it against the center of his chest. "I accept. I will sacrifice for answers. But for this? For more than you thought to ask? You must serve."

I'm taking a lot of license with the scenery because La is too real to properly exist, in this realm. But also because none to all of it might not be happening. Sometimes apotheosis is confusing.

Looks like she got a very clear price, and only raised from there. Miracle for The Harlot's Trade.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:01, Wed 18 Nov 2020.

Rashana had curiosities about this Lampkeeper, but the conversation turned to the subject, and, as a matter of practice, she remained quiet to allow an exchange that she could listen to and think on - if she could get her mind off of what Laila had said... implying that she had been the only one to deal with the consequences was still a knot in the fringes of the maker's mind.

Such was driven out of her focus when Kayla spoke, and the unsettling normalcy of the threat they dealt with registered for Rashana. Still, Alvatter seemed intent on gathering information, and she was as curious as he, so his questions didn't seem to trouble her.

As Laila mentioned shedding a bit of herself into the lamps, there was a curious glance from Rashana. "Maybe I could help improve the effect as well, given my talents. Though, perhaps the best solution would be a more permanent one, a means of removing the threat of the Lampkeeper entirely. Or, perhaps, containing it? Has anyone ever tried to confront the Lampkeeper?"

"Some have tried confronting him, but the result is never quite right. Sometimes they don't find him, others they vanish the same as the others." Kayla shrugs. "To be honest, we've simply grown accustomed to him."

The Lampkeeper rocks back on his heels at the touch. La feels something draining from her, even as the Lampkeeper grows more relaxed, calmer.

"Oh. Oh my, you have such life in you...you remind me of her." He pauses, muses, and then says, "For this, I will serve. For the life and laughter you offer, for the declaration of life...I will serve, if you can save her. Come. I want to show you..."

He walks, and the forest blurs, flows, blends into a single impression of a moment of riotous green life. When it resolves clearly once more, the two are standing in a clearing. All around are people, each one encased in clear crystal, blood slowly trickling out of them through channels in the crystal.

The blood merges into streams that flow to the center of the clearing, where an emerald flame the size of a child dances atop a pool of blood. The air smells of iron and jasmine. The Lampkeeper goes and rests his fingertips in the pool, and the flame brightens, strengthens.

"She was dying. I could feel her dying. And I will not let that happen. That can never happen." He says this with a voice that falls like a tombstone, the second date carved out by sheer force of will. His tone suggests that this is all the explanation necessary.

Alvatter listened and made some additional notes but at this point he had largely made his as much headway as he could without actively seeking out the Lampkeeper and studying them more closely.

"So how would you all like to proceed? I believe that there are two avenues available to us. The first is that we can use our power as Inheritors to strengthen the wards against the Lampkeeper and hopefully similar beings of the ilk. Alternatively we can seek out and remove the Lampkeeper's influence from this place. Perhaps peacefully but I am not confident in that."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:53, Mon 23 Nov 2020.

“No,” Laila agreed, “but who can say. He has never sought to explain himself or returned any who wander off the path, so perhaps if faced with adversaries who are more than mortal he might be willing to treat and settle some accord. There may be some motive to his actions that we cannot see.” She casually shrugged off the idea, all but dismissing it out of hand. “Failing that, we know the warding lanterns have some power to keep him at bay. Perhaps some sort of confinement is possible or we can house that magic in a shape the people can carry on their person.”

That last idea was not a new one. Laila had certainly thought of it herself, and she was quite sure that those of the Garden had to have attempted such a thing over the course of their watch. But she was no crafter of fine things, much less those of true power, and her own work to bolster the wards had seemed the sum total of all she could achieve alone on that front. It was a solution of sorts but one that ultimately left the root of the issue unresolved. At least it was more than she had been able to do for the other matter…

“There is one other thing to consider, not related to the Lampkeeper but no less important. Kayla spoke around this before” - a knowing look to their host - “but regrettably the Garden also has its own problems with food.”

“This place was made a paradise, a realm for enjoyment and pleasure … and nothing more. The trees and plants here offer a bounty of fruit like you’ll find nowhere else, but that is all the earth permits. Any other crops fail. It’s like the soil thinks them too plain and refuses to let them detract from the colour and beauty it fosters.” Laila gestured to the array of delicacies set upon the table, things delicious and appealing but hardly what one might wish to live on. “There is no shortage of food here but not a diet suitable for life. Hollow plenty.”

“Changing that will not rid this place of the Lampkeeper, but it is another problem we should solve if we can. Any answer might also be helpful in solving our own shortage.”

Alvatter considered their issue for a moment before offering a few possible solutions, or at least inquiries.

"Accepting that the magic which sustains the Garden is too potent to simply disregard perhaps we can work around it. Have the people of this realm explored grafting as a possible avenue of diversifying foodstuffs? I'd recommend stone fruits given that you could potentially grow almonds, coffee, and even olives among the fruits."

He then began to list some possibilities, counting on his fingers for each of the foods.

"Olives can of course we eaten although their raw state is quite bitter. They can also be used for oil which I imagine is a much rare commodity."

"Coffee can be fermented and roasted before being used to brew a strong beverage. Should you ever tire of floral teas and fresh water that is. And I suppose wine and spirits should you have a distillery."

"Then of course there are the delicious almonds which can be eaten or dried and ground into a flour. While not as useful as a cereal grain it can be used to make breads, unleavened unless natural processes aid you, and I imagine it would go quite well with the olive oil."

He then stopped and looked around, coughing into his hand as he realized he was rambling.

"There are a few more options of course but that was immediate thought."

Listening to the exchange and the answers to her questions, a hand rose, and rested on Rashana's chin lightly. She mulled the details over for a bit, before chiming back in. "Unfortunately, food is about the one thing I've found my talents consistently fail to achieve very much success with. I could at best create the tools and infrastructure one might use to prepare food more efficiently." She exhaled lightly, and gave her head a delicate shake. "Not a useful answer, in this case, I know."

She nodded her head then, lightly. "A direct confrontation may at the least tell us more about this figure. Laila, if you can show me what you've already done to craft the protective lanterns, it's likely that we can create something more effective together, as well. All are fine strategies, I think, but we would need to prioritize. If the problem can be solved directly, a great deal of effort could be spared on an actual project, and probably to a better end than simply trapping this being with lamps that may run low."

Laila had a look of sympathy for Rashana as she outlined her own shortfallings. It was humbling to recognise those places where their power, however great, was inadequate for the challenges before them, and she knew that sense of frustration very well. Even with several of them present it seemed unlikely that there would be any quick fix for the issues blighting the realm.

She was quick to step in after Rashana’s second point, keen to explain herself.

“I didn’t mean for that to be a permanent solution. My thought was that the people of the Garden should have some say in how this ends, assuming we are not forced to destroy the Lampkeeper outright. We should at least consider some safe means for them to speak with him if he can be captured or chooses to cooperate. He is their enemy after all, not ours. It doesn’t feel right for us to stand alone in judgement if we can offer them a part in any outcome.”

Alvatter heard the points raised by Rashana, nodding along with them.

"With my power I believe I could strengthen the wards. Such a working would only last while I remain within the Garden, or at least return regularly to reinforce the spell structures. Also should be manage to obtain an arcane connection to the Lampkeeper I can banish them from this place forever."

"You both have a point... Still, seeking out some kind of interaction with the Lampkeeper would give us more insight into what we're dealing with..." The girl paused for a moment, taking one more drink of her tea, before sitting back and casting her eye about. "...Alvatter, did you happen to see La with us earlier? I saw her joining us, but she isn't here, now."

Rashana had been trying to take a bit more note of her than before, especially after their arrival in the Nexus. Laila's seeming loss hadn't been easy, and in the subsequent confusion... well,  she'd been instrumental in making things happen.

"I've noticed she seems to have a talent for eluding attention. She may already be having a look about, though I couldn't guess as to where." She said with a slight shrug.

  "Was she always like this?" The temple-girl's voice is low, still soothing in the way one approaches an injured animal.  In fact, that better explains her demeanor all this time: tending to someone frightened of her.  It's almost a palpable aura of care, and she's not even looking at him.  She's watching the flame as she rinses the blood left on her hand in the blood of the pool. If his second-hand offering brightened it...

  The flames strengthen enough the air they draw in can be heard rushing. She rocks back in a start, but not in fear, and the display some. The potential for More draws the air tight, all the same.  She still hasn't looked at him.  "Oh, but I know better.  Is she even like this now?   Or is it a cenotaph?  I'll have to protect it differently, depending."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Wed 25 Nov 2020.

Alvatter turned to Rashana and frowned. He took in the room for the first time, really looking at everyone assembled.

"Huh." he said almost casually.

"It does appear that she's slipped away."

He considered that for a moment before looking back to Rashana.

"It is her way of course, to be unseen. She is a consummate professional in that way. Still I am a tad concerned that she might have found herself in precarious situation, especially given the lurkings of this Lampkeeper. It might be best if we look for her within the city."

"It is her spirit. Sustained by the life of these others. Life for life, for the gods are fair, as they say." The Lampkeeper waves at those encased in the crystals. "But she needs so much, to stay here. So very much. And I cannot repair what was done, cannot return her to herself. It is all I can do to keep her like this."
This message was last updated by the player at 02:54, Thu 26 Nov 2020.

  "Like this," the girl repeats, with her too-wide eyes still on the flame. Only now, they have a more canny look in them—a cat who knows the bird's wing isn't broken. She squeezes her fist enough for another dribble to run into the pool. "Nothing ever stays the same, Elder."

  Then she grasps the fire.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:15, Thu 26 Nov 2020.

Confusion marked Laila's features. "I'm sorry, someone else came with you?"

Alvatter nodded once.

"Yes Bire La. She is one of the Dreamers. A survivor of Irohn just like us. She came with us to the Garden but it seems that she has slipped away between then and now."

The fingers of Laila’s lone hand idly tapped the arm of her chair as she did her best to make sense of that answer. Irohn seemed a lifetime ago now, and there had been a great many people swirling about them in their homeland’s chaotic last days. It had been all too easy to simply stop paying attention to specific names and face. They had become as tools, defined only by how they might aid her in pushing forward towards the goals that lay ahead. The thought sent a ripple of shame running through her and she shivered slightly at its passing. How quickly she had distanced herself from those who should have been her responsibility.

The tapping came to an abrupt halt. Laila pursed her lips, hesitant, before risking a guess.

“I don’t know the name, but the woman who played secretary at our first council perhaps? She was a Dreamer, I think.” Recollection flashed in her eyes. “She was with us on the Roads too, wasn’t she - before the last?”

"That's her." Rashana added, looking to Laila gently. "She has a talent for slipping away if I so much as take my eye from her. She's been helpful, surprisingly so - she has a talent for getting things done when we ask, almost to an unusual degree. We don't talk much, but she has made herself a fixture in helping us." She put a finger to her lip. "So, if she is wandering about, I doubt we'll find her unless she wants to be found, but at the least, we should look."

Bire La touches the flame, blood to fire, and the flame leaps up into her. Distantly, she hears the Lampkeeper shouting. His voice echoes like it's coming from the bottom of a deep well.

But then it all fades away. She is no longer in a forest. She stands on a cliff, looking out over an ocean. She had not seen an ocean before, but she is seeing one now, and the awe at looking out onto the waves fades into open-mouthed amazement as the water turns crimson with a sunset behind it. She feels something push her forward from behind, though nothing is behind her. She falls free through the air, lit by fire and smelling of salt and sorrow.

Abruptly, in the sudden fashion of dreams, she is elsewhere. She stands in a meadow, looking onto a bed of crystal. Within, beauty. There is no other way to describe her. She has coffee skin and raven hair, and her fingers are so graceful as they twist in her sleep. Her eyes are wide open and smell like almonds. She looks at Bire La, and her mouth does not move but a tenebrous alto speaks. "You are not Rahim."

The world shifts again. She is caught between teeth. She is held. She feels the pain, burning, searing through her body like acid spreading through her veins. She cherishes the flame as she feels herself coming unwound. And then the voice speaks again. "But you smell of Rahim. His power."

The pain stops. She is standing on the branch of a colossal tree, the branch wide as a highway, each leaf looking like an emerald dinner platter. The woman from within the crystal stands before her, her almond eyes gleaming with unshed tears, her lips twisted into the most expressive sorrow. "I'm sorry. I thought you were...never mind. What are you? How did you survive that?" And now, finally, La finds her voice responding to her will.

  And the first sound to emerge is a grunt of pain. The doll girl was careless in the safety of her silence, and it slips right out. And then it didn't happen, because she is too poised, too pristine to feel anything so venal as mere pain. It would be agony deserving of a pieta or nothing, for one like that, made of teacups and petals. "I have so many questions," she answers, and her tone is clear: that is her answer. She bows, but as to a generous host, not a superior.

  "You've been here with no body to take you places for a very long time. How long has it been since you've seen Rahim? Smelled his skin, not just his soul?"

Alvatter considered.

"If you'll give me a moment I can attempt to reach out to her. Given that we have a close enough bond I should be able to reach across space to speak with her using theurgy."

Assuming that no one sought to stop him he rose to his feet and moved to a free space. He began to cast, focusing his divine power into each word and gesture.

Committing Effort for Scene to Cast Quickly Trumpet of Far Utterance on Bire La
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:08, Mon 30 Nov 2020.

"Time is strange, in this place," beauty says, and her voice is sorrow, and she sighs. "But ages of the world have passed, out there. I don't know how Rahim has kept it up so long without going mad. The flame never dimming, never fading, in all this time." She shrugs, eloquently.

"We were doomed from the start, really. The emperor's favorite courtesan, and his trusted captain of the harem guard... Rahim threw himself on the fire, you know, when they burned me for adultery. Silly of him. He was always such a drama queen, you've really no idea." Her face is fond.

  And La's mirrors it: not just in also being fond, but in the specifics of the expression, too, and with remarkable fidelity.  "Oh, he's quite mad," she says in the usual tone for calling someone sweet.  "He thinks of nothing but you—perhaps he even can't—and preserving what life this is, for you.  Utterly insane.  You're two dreams dreaming each other, and neither can awaken lest they both perish."  Importantly, her tone does not change.  She makes it sound almost romantic.

  "You can't tell what sustains you."  It isn't a question.  "That's best for now.  I'm here to change it, in any case.  Will you come with me?  I'll see more answers with your eyes.  And you'll see his again.  And all three of us will find new life for you both!"  As simple as that.  Go with her—be the fire that makes her blood run hot.  And just like that, the road to a happy future stretches before you, after eternities of sorrow.  It's as insane as anything she could say about Rahim.  She makes it sound possible.  Makes it seem real.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:21, Tue 01 Dec 2020.

Beauty looks at La, and smiles, and there is nothing sharp in her as she says, "Deal. With my thanks." The bargain bites all the same, sharper than teeth could ever be, and the dream melts away and the Dream returns.

The Lampkeeper - Rahim - is standing beside her, hand raised to stop her, too slow. Only an instant has passed. The fire goes out, and for a moment his eyes and lamp burn with fury and betrayal. But then he sees something, and hesitates, and whispers, "You...Iesha? No, but you...her fire...you took her in, didn't you? And she dances on you like a candle's flame on the wicking...can she see? Feel?"

Alvatter finds his spell latching onto Bire La, and she appears in his mind's eye. But her eyes, once soft brown, now blaze emerald, like new leaves and fresh-cut grass and barium flame. Unmistakeably the same. Unforgettably different. Around her, a glade of blood and crystals, the latter beginning to crack and release bodies to the grass.

Corpses, more like.

For at least one of the bodies that struck the grass was little more than a shriveled husk draped in funerary rags. It hit the soft grass with a just audible noise, as if it weighed no more than a feather, throughly overshadowed by the weighty metal staff thudding to the ground next to it.

Bire La recognized that staff.

It was the badge of office of one of Anaya's lesser servants, both title and duty wrapped up in twisted black iron.  Anaya's Breath, it was named, for it was the tool and the word that that had filled the limbs of the dead with their Goddess' will. Which meant that the corpse next to it would likely be Etu, the small woman who had born both the staff and the responsibility.  Perhaps the imprisonment in the Lampkeeper's care had drained her, or perhaps the artifact had turned on its wielder.  Either way, it did not look like she would invoke its power again.

  The image turns its head sharply away from Alvatter, and a few seconds later begins to frown in confused wonder.


  La turns to face the ground, looking thoughtful, troubled, even lost.  They aren't emotions one typically associates with anything that might be on the ground in a glade like that, except perhaps a stream of blood flowing past.  For a moment she glances up and sees the ghost of Alvatter, and her eyes widen in brief surprise.  But she stands and turns away again, in the direction she originally faced.  Behind her back, one hand waves him away before she steps forward and both hands reach toward the figure appearing at the edge of the image.


This message was last edited by the player at 06:29, Wed 02 Dec 2020.

Or not.

One of Etu's shriveled hands, the flesh brown like sun scorched leather, twitched.  Blindly groping, as if on its own instinct, it reached for the curving shape of the black staff.  When those skeletally thin fingers found it, there was a hum of power, and with a gentle sigh a miasma of black sand began to pulse from her body in slowly shifting waves. Her grasp tightened about it, and the thrumming noise went subvocal, more sensation than sound.

With a parched sounding groan, as if she hadn't had a drink in days, she sat up.

"I...  dreamed that everything I had known had fallen."

She said, her voice surprisingly light and dreamlike despite the bone dry death rattle that filled her throat.

"And that all the silver keys I had been gifted were chains of thorns. Was I truly nothing but a maker of such, and little more?"

She rose, shakily at first, but gaining strength.  As she stood, black sand fell off of her in a wave, as if she had been draped in a thin veil of the stuff. Her eyes, vastly deep things, settled in the direction of the Lampkeeper.

"Is this to be my punishment then, at the end of all things?  Bound undying for all eternity?"

Rahim's grip is just as tight, his arms wrapped around Her so tight that it seems as though ribs should be cracking. The lamp falls abandoned to the ground, landing in a stream of blood; the fire blinks out as it falls from his hand. He buries his face in her hair, and breathes deep, and all the tension runs out of him. His voice shapes words in a language that hasn't been spoken aloud in eons .

He does not pull away, does not look away, barely even breathes. But he musters a sentence after Etu speaks. "Your future is your own now, a gift to you - treasure it, for such things are all too simply lost." It is not wholly clear whom this was addressed to.

  The woman in his arms laughs through audible tears and sniffles, but moves only to expose her mouth.  "Etu!  Old friend, things have continued on!  Irohn has survived!  If you are undying now, then that is a blessing.  So many have been lost..."  She shivers and presses tighter against Rahim.

  "I remember both pasts...  Even speaking to— But they were both me, and both strangers, and...  Oh it doesn't matter.  I am alive.  I am still alive again.  And you, my heart's breath, are—"  She replies, and it's in that language again, unheard in Irohn but fluent from her lips.  Whispers at first, but whatever she's talking about, she can't suppress her joy for long.  But when she looks up, she stops abruptly, then frowns and spends a moment searching the eerie mask that stands in for the Lampkeeper's face.  "You've... Another sacrifice, Rahim?  Was the fire not enough?  Etu, can you come closer?  Your particular skills might be needed; I'm not certain."

Etu stared, unblinking, at the Lampkeeper where he held the woman she had known.

"A gift?"

She paused, contemplative, her words more for herself than for them.

"Anaya was... a lie."

She sat up, using the staff which bore the name of the one she called liar.

"I will not serve as I once did.  I will not help as I once helped.  I am Undying, but that part of me is dead."

She would practically be shouting, but her voice was too dry to do so.  It came out only as a hoarse whisper.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:05, Sat 05 Dec 2020.

  Now La turns in the tall man's arms, a frown already settling on her brow before she even gets a look at Etu.  Out comes a bit of a horrified gasp, when she does.  "Etu!  Ohhh, no wonder you blaspheme.  But don't lose heart!  I'm sure one of the Inhe—  The...  I'm...  oh."  She shakes her head clear and swivels to better face her desiccated friend.  It doesn't require the slightest interruption of crushing herself into this "heart's breath"'s chest, come to find out.

  "They're— The Inheritors of Amaya's power, they're really amazing.  Were you hurt in the invasion?  The harrying on the glass road?  I'm not sure how much you saw of them, but I've been present for so many miracles, Etu.  Surely one of them will be able to help.  There's a scholar who knows just about everything, and I know he'd savor the challenge.  And if he can devise a way, one of the noblewomen has the power to make it happen, without fail.  Really, the two of them have become anchors for the survivors.  Oh!  And there are so many!  Please come back with me, Etu, won't you?  I'll be sure to lead conversation away from your unfortunate condition."

"Invasion?"

The word was meaningless to her, for she had been trapped, and knew not of what the other woman spoke.

"You are known to me. You are Bire La.  She who managed the temple.  I have known nothing since Anaya's fall, cut off from the world by whatever that..."

She shuddered.

"... prison was. A penance, perhaps.  One that I will forever dread, even if it was deserved."

She took a step, and her staff landed on the cobblestones with a weighty thud.

"I will meet this scholar, for I am troubled by a lifetime of sin. The scales will never be weighed, but with his knowledge perhaps there can at least be an accounting.  Yes, I will follow you Bire La, for there is so much work to be done."

  And that left one. "This is not our home anymore. It has not been for a long time. There is a vast city of people on the other side of a simple door, and they have been blessed to have... several righteous indi—" She stumbles over something then, enough to actually put more weight on the Lampkeeper briefly. When she slides her hands up his shoulders, it is so her arms give her space to look him in the eyes.

  "You told me an eternity ago that you would follow me to Hell, to keep me safe. An instant ago, that you would serve, to save me again. Come. I will always return here, but we have both been too long among dappled shadows. Come." She nods by a margin in Etu's direction.

"Much is needed. Jade, gold, silver, and a smith work them."

She said incongruously, placing the butt of her badge of office down onto the ground with a weighty thud as she took her first step. Death surrounded her, called to her, ephemeral and intangible. The work before her was endless, but she had nothing but time.

Alvatter appeared in the strange place of blood and crystal, of freshly released corpses and esoteric powers that played at the edges of the arcane and eldritch. He listened as much as he saw but had no understanding. What was clear to him at least was that Bire La was alive, albeit changed, and she was not alone. He relayed this information to the others but nothing more. Mostly because he wasn't sure in himself what to make of what was going on or how to address it.

As Alvatter shared what he was seeing, the artisan's expression faltered briefly, and she she seemed a bit stunned for a moment, given the details he related. "It.. sounds as though La is at least managing the situation she found herself in, if she isn't hurt, though I can't say I that..." She glanced over to Laila for a moment, then back to Alavatter. "Do you know where to find her?"

Rahim nods, slowly. "The shadows are...trying. If you say there is elsewhere to go, then I will follow." He beckons. The forest twists.

The door of Kayla al-Saif's house opens, and in step the three of them - a tall man with eerily pale skin and fine features, a woman who sheds darkness, and that which once was Bire La, who now has emerald eyes and an entirely different bearing. It seems to have happened far too quickly for them to have made their way there from the forest.


"Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm." The Lampkeeper's voice is gentle, almost caring in a strange way.

Alvatter shook his head in the negative and went to speak when the door opened. Turning to see who had entered he allowed his spell to collapse entirely. To say he was shocked was perhaps an understatement but the Lampkeeper, or who he assumed as the Lampkeeper, had his desired effect. Alvatter did not move nor speak, simply listen.

The woman who shed darkness was hardly a living thing at all.

Her silhouette was human enough, though despite her small frame those with keen senses might have noticed that something was wrong. Sharp eyes would have spotted flickering shadows about her face, sharp ears might have heard the rasp of sand that accompanied her every movement.

Her flesh was as dry and taunt as leather long scorched by the sun.   Each movement she made accompanied by a fall of a thin layer of black sand, as if she were somehow a shattered statue brought to life. Yet it was the miasma of death that clung to her that was the most obvious, a black shroud that hung about her in a grim aura.  It was a dark, cold, dry thing, ever present in her divinity. She carried with her a heavy staff, fashioned of some strange and twisted black metal.  The miasma that so infused her infused through this too, the Necromantic energy the antithesis of all life.

She stared out from beneath her cowl at the others, her withered gaze resolute and unflinching.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:37, Wed 09 Dec 2020.

Laila had scarcely had a chance to process this new, and regrettably vague, information before the issue forced itself. It hardly mattered that her companions vouched for Bire La, nor that she neither understood the nature of the company she kept or how they had fallen in together. All that truly mattered was that unfamiliar (and dare she say untrustworthy) faces had imposed upon a place under her protection unannounced.

Without a word she rose from her chair, crossed the room and stood sentinel at Kayla's flank. It was a smooth and measured motion rather than one carried by the raw urgency of fear, but she hardly needed to draw her weapon to give voice to her thoughts. Even if this was to be a reunion the air about it was anything but celebratory. No joy and smiles now.

"That may be so, but things are moving very quickly. I hope you can forgive us some precautions," Laila returned. She offered the very slightest of nods. "Laila Casryn of Irohn. What would you have us call you?"

From where she sat, seeing the door slip ajar and two unknown figures enter, with  La among them, her eyes and... everything seeming different at a glance... Rashana moved as Laila did, up to her feet with a guarded expression, her hand lowering and fingers outstretched as if ready to close around an object that wasn't quite present, yet, something yet to be formed out of raw creative potential... waiting there at the edge of possibility for her to make it real.

"La... what happened? And exactly who are those two?" She prompted, her eyes darting from the woman reeking of death to the uncomfortably gently-voiced man.

  "What?! Laila!!?  I...  Hrm."  The slight woman steps immediately, protectively, to the front in almost perfect coordination with the swordswoman, but drops her own guard upon seeing Laila's face.  Recovering haltingly, she considers the group seated now standing before them, then brightens when she sees the tea.  She holds out one hand, closes her fist, and opens it palm-up to reveal a handful of loose petals the air does not dare disturb.

  "Some chrysanthemum, lord and ladies?  I see the water is still hot enough for steeping."  She blows them into the air then, but they all disappear into twinkles a pace away from her.  It draws out a little delighted laugh.  "I suppose you were not my friends, but we have been companions since Anaya was lost.  Call me Alýeda; La is a Servant's name."  Hands coming together in front of her waist, she lowers her head respectfully, but no more than that before stepping forward with a warm smile.

  "I have so much to explain.  But first: this is Etu, from Irohn.  She provided the bulk of the labor force for the Dreaming See.  I could not mistake her.  And this—"  She turns from the lich to extend a hand to the wraith.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:52, Sun 20 Dec 2020.

Kayla stares, her face going nearly as pale as the ghostly-pale features of the man beside Bire Alyeda. "That's him. That's him. You brought the Lampkeeper inside the wards?" Her voice rises to nearly a shriek as she says this last, and she produces a knife from under the table.

  Alyeda frowns and turns back to the Lampkeeper.  "Lamp... You mean Rahim??" She sidesteps closer to him, both empty hands up, but her eyes widen with sudden realization before she's even settled into place.  "The lantern.  Of course.  And the blood.  Oh no, no, there will be no more!  We should talk, without the weapons?"

Etu was silent as Alyeda introduced her, unmoving and untouched by the stares of those about her within the shadows of her cowled hood. When she saw the knife, her fingers tightened slightly about her staff, but that was the only indication she gave that she had even noticed.

"Of what wards do you speak?"

She said at last, her voice parched and raspy as a knife run over a file.

Laila took a step forward, her arm sweeping sharply across her chest to cover Kayla as barrier and shield alike. A flicker of concentration crossed her face – but half a breath – and in its wake a wave of something. There was no blinding show of lights, no coruscating surge of power. Those about her would merely feel a pleasant warmth on their skin like the height of golden summer, the comfort of watching a new dawn rise with its promise of a better day to come. There could be no darkness here – not in the face of her light.

Her head tilted ever so slightly towards their host. She spoke with a deliberate calm. “Kayla, please. Your protection is my concern, and I will let no harm come to you. Put the knife down and let us speak while we have the chance. If violence comes of it then mine is the only blade you will need.”

At that she turned her attention back to their visitors.

“My wards”, Laila sighed with no small bitterness. “The work of weeks that you rendered so very pointless with this trespass.” A slight flick of her fingers towards the Lampkeeper. “Meant to keep him out.”

OOC: Committing Effort to extend Heart of the Lion to allies.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:45, Fri 11 Dec 2020.

Kayla relaxes, perceptibly, and sets the knife down on the table - still in easy reach, but not in her hand. "If you say so," she says stiffly, not taking her eyes off of the Lampkeeper (Rahim?).

Etu turned, regarding the Lampkeeper dispassionately. Little motes of black sand fell from her as she did, defying gravity to orbit about her in a lazy cloud.

"And who is he, save for the instrument of my first penance?"

A rough gesture towards their host. "Is her terror not answer enough?"

"To the people of the Garden he is death. He is the reason they fear the darkness and dare not wander from the marked paths; he haunts their nightmares as their borders."

Rashana stared with baffled eyes, and after a few moments of putting things together in the back of her mind, she spoke. "... Without weapons." She said, moving her hand and she looked to Leila with a nod. "Please, explain this, We're all very curious. ...Alyeda, my first question is what happened to you?" Her eye darted back to the  Lampkeeper warily. "You said there would be no more blood. Do you have some certainty of that?"

  "Yes. I see now how the pieces fit together. Forgive me; I would have told you, had I realized sooner. We might have met first on less sensitive ground." Ducking in chagrin, she seeks eye contact with Kayla before she claps her hands in front of her bust and bows. She does not rise again, at first.

  "You have my apologies, Kayla. There will be no more sacrifices, no more fear of the shadows. Rahim, my salvation, your Lampkeeper, has reached the end of his long struggle. But your people have suffered for the magic that saved my life. I am in your debt, we both discover now." In the ensuing silence, it doesn't take the woman that long to realize the most positive response is a blank stare and a sword still sheathed.  Her cringe deepens.

  "A full answer, then. I suppose I look more like the singer.  I'll explain from her perspective then.  This realm called La to its heart, and she found the Lampkeeper there.  He said he would sacrifice her, to keep his beloved alive, and as many of the people here as it took.  But his power could only keep her soul from departing, not return her to life." She lowers her head again; it is an awful thing.

  "The singer was stronger than anyone he had ever sacrificed, enough to take that restless spirit into her own, because the fuel it burned answers to her as a goddess.  She and the beloved... are me.  There is nothing to sacrifice for.  La gave Iesha new life—hers.  And it was enough to end the ritual."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Tue 15 Dec 2020.

Rashana remained quiet, letting the silence say what she had only been preparing to, when the strange La-but-not-La provided more information. That was enough to at least shed some light on things. Her eye darted between Etu and the Lampkeeper briefly, digesting the words. "So, La simply stumbled upon your ritual, and in trying to make a sacrifice of her, things didn't go as planned? Meaning you fully intended to make a sacrifice of her." She assessed with a sharp gaze in the Lampkeeper's direction.

She turned her eye back to Alyeda. "And you... are somehow both La and the woman he was killing all of those people to keep... alive doesn't seem to be the right word, does it? And now here you are, acting nothing like our La, trying to pacify what's clearly no small number of deaths for your sake. It's not my place to say whether or not this world will just forgive that. But what is my concern is what you have done with... to... La."

"I can't tell how much of you is the La we know, and how much is... whoever else you appear to be. Is this what she wanted? Is she okay with this? How much was she hiding from us, and just how welcome are you, in there?" She prompted, then raised a finger. "I don't want to hear from you. I want to hear from her. If you've done anything to her, I won't let you keep walking around pretending to be her."  She didn't make any violent moves, turning a glance briefly over to Laila. "Can your light illuminate the details, Laila, or tell us how La feels about all of this?"

For all that was being said, Laila could not shake the feeling of being an outsider looking in. This Alyeda was a stranger born of a stranger, and Rashana was speaking for the memory of woman who had barely left a trace of herself in Laila’s own memories. That this all came on the back of Kayla’s silence only made things all the worse. There was no certainty here, no steady ground where she might plant her feet and trust the cause she stood for. Only the doubts of a friend and a being formed wholly from unanswered questions.

How good of Rashana then to invite her back into the conversation.

Laila considered those questions – considered Rashana herself – before reaching out to lightly place a hand upon her shoulder. Her eyes became as two thin disks of gold, and a heartbeat later so too did Rashana’s, imbued with that same sunlit sight. They stayed like that for a breath and then another. Only then did that radiance fade, and in its absence it was hard not to think their eyes somehow darker than before,

“No sign of possession, curse or other foreign magic,” Laila announced with a certain hesitation. Then almost apologetically, “And if she lies, then I’m afraid I cannot sense that either.”

Her fingers traced the slightest of circles on Rashana’s shoulder. “I do not think there is a Bire La to ask, Rashana. Only this Alyeda.”

  The woman's response is... perhaps not as expected, when the light finally shines. "It is true! You live!" something gives within Alyeda and she nearly loses her feet. The Lampkeeper's movements are inhumanly fast to catch her, but her weight never quite settles on his arm.

  At this point, tears have burst from her eyes. Relieved ones, for all of three heartbeats, until the memories finish catching up. Her hands drift toward her mouth and eventually cover it while her elation turns. To guilt. "I... I thought you... You're really her. I thought I killed you."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:35, Tue 15 Dec 2020.

"Undying."

Etu suggested, when Rashana grasped for words to describe that liminal state. A joke perhaps?  It was impossible to say, for the word was delivered without inflection. More husk than human, she would know better than any the answer.  While she had only been bound for two days, already it had been an eternity.

She turned slowly towards Alyeda as Laila's gaze burned golden and bright, her hooded eyes ponderous.

"You promised me answers and a scholar without peer. Yet so far, all that has come is suspicion and mystery and fear. Why do they name you changed? You speak of ritual and sacrifice, these are words I understand, but their end point is still clouded to me. We have passed between realms, was the first but a dream?  Who was its master, who was the dreamer? Are you not the same who promised me if I but left my prison?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:56, Sat 19 Dec 2020.

Kayla shudders. "The ritual you describe...it is an abomination. It is foul, corrupt. To take so many lives..."

Rahim just stares silently. He is slightly hunched, as though braced for a blow, or expecting to deliver one.

Etu turned her shrouded gaze onto Alyeda and the Lampkeeper.

"What?"

There was anger in her voice, raw and scratched.

"Heartsblood or soulstuff?"

She gripped the staff tightly, the twisted black metal that bore the name Anaya's Breath. It had once been her badge of office, rank and title both.  The black miasma of death about her flared, and those standing near could feel a searing heat as a cloud of stinging black sand began to whip around her.

"Which was claimed, and whose will claimed it?"

Alvatter gradually came out of his shock and listened to the strangely broken and haphazard exchange that was occurring between the others. He rubbed at his temples as he attempted to sort the information that he was gaining. He felt like he was developing a headache and took a seat once more.

"Life and love and laughter, and all the things that keep a memory breathing," Rahim says softly. "I took them all, to fuel the furnace. But before you speak curses on my name, child, ask yourself - would you have done any different, if you had the power? If you could save the one you loved more than life itself, what price would you call too great? If you could save the people you protected, but only by becoming their nightmare so that they would close ranks to fight against you rather than each other, would you call that a sacrifice you couldn't make?"

"Yes" Alvatter responded without thinking.

"I would do differently. I cannot say that I have ever truly loved another person but I have loved in my own way. I have already made difficult choices about who and what to save, what to abandon, and what to keep for the future. We all have, back in Irohn."

He then gestured loosely to Bire Alyeda.

"But this. What you've done here. You can be dressed it up anyway you desire it, present any moral argument you want but the reality is that you chose her life over the lives of innocents and for that you have a debt that to pay. One that I ensure you will be paid in full."

He then turned to Etu.

"I am the scholar. My name is Alvatter. If you truly are a survivor of Irohn then I welcome you but I apologize as you find us in a precarious situation. I ask for your patience while we sort out what is to happen next. Then I will gladly answer any questions you may have to the best of my abilities."

Then he focused on Bire Alyeda herself.

"Since you've been instrumental in these events I want to hear what you intend for Rashim now that you've merged with his beloved. If you intend to shelter him then I believe we will be at odds in this."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:11, Sat 26 Dec 2020.

Laila's words brought a heavy pause to Rashana. It seemed less like anger, and more like pain, to anyone with an eye for such things. Her head lowered, but she was quiet, for a moment. La wasn't... she was gone? How much like her was it to be gone, really - she had been ever elusive, and even trying to take note of her when she could, Rashana had failed her here, to keep up with her in a dangerous place.

All the pain of Laila's loss, and her return, echoed all over again, all the self-blaming anxiety too. She knew La had come along. Why hadn't she kept her closer to hand? She was distracted from those thoughts, though, but the murmuring of the unusual new arrival in quesion. Words that were seemingly addressed to no one present -- addressed to...?

Through her distress and fog, the realization was like a miracle, somewhere between her keen mind and some impossible insight open to supernatural possibilities, or perhaps simply wishful thinking... Alyeda's words were addressed to La, and as her ears could sense, it didn't feel like a duplicitous utterance. The relief in it felt, seemed genuine and true? Then La really was still there? She couldn't say, couldn't know for certain, but at the least, she felt that she understood as well as Alyeda did, in the moment. More, she understood the relief she felt.

It was enough. Enough that Rashana decided that she could relent. There could be time enough to learn the truth, and she didn't want things to come to bloodshed here.

With an uncharacteristic elegance, the artisan stood, her voice softer as she moved toward Alyeda with hand extended. Her posture communicated perfectly her gentle intent to Rashim in such an obvious way that it was certainly understood, and as she reached Alyeda, her hand settled upon her shoulder. She spoke with a softer, more gentle tone, then. Almost like a different person, herself, or, perhaps just one who had found an entirely different perspective on matters in moments.

"Alyeda. I can tell this wasn't your fault. And... it seems like you can still sense La, somehow? She's not... lost?" She asked, leaning to look her in the eye.

She exhaled, then glanced up, to Rashim, to Etu, and to Alvatter as well, then stood fully again.  That gracefulness and social finesse was still there, like she was some other person entirely from the Rashana they knew, full of insight and understanding and navigating the situation's complexities with courtly finesse...

"To be more clear, I believe Alvatter and I are in agreement that we aren't strictly talking about life-for-life punishment. On one hand, I feel like there's been death on such a scale that would not be enough to balance what you've done, Rashim. For you, and for Alyeda... your story is tragic, and you have done terrible things... and terrible things do have a price. Are you prepared to make right what you've done?"

---
So yeah, Rashana has Intelligence. Though I'm also kind of channeling a Grace Miracle here for social grace and understanding. Don't expect her words to solve everything, mind, but do expect them to be angled toward a de-escalation of the situation. It's not aimed so much at being 'diplomancy' as it is 'miraculously navigating a supernaturally complicated situation and trying to find a clear route through it' and because these conclusions felt a little off from her usual perspective, the idea of Grace giving her a different perspective to approach it from as a miracle made some sense to me.

Etu's gaze had locked on Rahim, sparing barely a glance for Alvatter when he answered her questions.  She spoke so quietly as to be almost unheard, for her words were revelation for herself and no one else.

"So you were not the instrument of my divine punishment at all, merely another slaver imposing your will upon those you found helpless."

She hissed, and Rashana could feel the black miasma about Etu resisting her efforts to bring a peaceable solution, a stubborn knot of anger and rage that could not be smoothed over.  Yet even as she felt that will resist her own, the iron barriers that Etu was fashioning about herself softened and relented.  She was not submitting to Rashana's grace, but neither was she striving against it.  She drove the butt of Anaya's Breath into the ground, and the aura about her lessened.

"I am not to be your judge nor jury then, for my crimes were no better than your own, despite my ignorance.  I will relent to the decision these others make as to your fate, and pass no judgement over you for what you have done to me. From what you have taken of me, draining my dry until I am thus.  You are not forgiven, but the will which decides your fate will not be mine."

She took several steps back, the black sand about her relenting as it fell slowly to the ground.

"You have my eternal patience, Scholar Alvatter."

And there was only the merest hint of a threat to her voice. Rashana could still feel that knot of anger, but like a ship turning with the wind and the tide, it had turned to be in harmony with her will.

  The torrent of questions and accusations had cut Alyeda's relief short, anyway, and there is more evidence in it to answer Rashana's questions. None of what fills in behind the vanishing relief is fear. Her attention sharpens, but her caution isn't wary, and her posture actually relaxes as she and Rahim are crowded. She looks composed, efficient unto strict, as though she were about to open a board meeting. She looks the way La had, when she was addressing other (?) ordinary survivors. But La would never have directed that demeanor at an Inheritor.

  Thank you, Rashana. You want details; I can see the uncertainty. I will try to answer ev—"

  But the Waker has more to say to Rahim, and she pauses again. When she does resume her response, it's with an apologetic smile at Rashana before she proceeds to have no time at all to answer those questions. Her words fly out in a stream to make an auctioneer sit up. "I'm sorry, everyone. I will not be able to maintain the pace you demand, when your demands are so complex and profound. I wish we could have remained allies, but it seems you are not collectively interested in that, as you are not interested in knowing what, exactly, you are so angry about. I know you won't believe me, but I do this with a heart heavy unto breaking." The woman turns then, just her head and just a little, enough to indicate the Lampkeeper without taking her eyes off anyone.

  "Rahim, please take me to the gate, as quickly as you brought us here."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:47, Wed 30 Dec 2020.

"Wait"

"Just wait Bire."

He sighs.

"I don't intend to mean that we aren't interested in the truth, the full truth of what happened here. Just that we find ourselves blindsided and concerned. Much has transpired in little time. Tempers are high."

He looked to the others sympathetically.

"Please. Stay here. Let us speak of this under peaceful terms. You have my word that I will listen as impartially as I can and we can reach some sort of agreement on what to do next."

He then looked to Rashim, the Lampkeeper.

"I extend to your an armistice. I will do everything in my power to see that you are treated well as we sort through all this."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:33, Mon 28 Dec 2020.

Rahim hesitates, looking to Alyeda for confirmation, before slowly nodding. "An armistice suffices for me, if my love wishes it so. And, for what it is worth, I am sorry. I spoke in haste and anger; my long vigil has left me with a shorter temper than I once had, it would seem."

  Alyeda hesitates, stiff and silent like a carved statue except for her eyes seeking out the others' each in turn.  It's something she sees the second time she gets to Laila that apparently convinces her; tension bleeds slowly out of her torso, and she lets her weight settle onto her heels again.  "Then yes.  Irohn's survival may yet need all of us.  Is this the appropriate place?"

  She raises a hand to gesture broadly about the sitting room, and there is a short wake behind her movements that leaves colors more precise than they ought to be.  "This is a refuge for someone.  We have brought fear in; perhaps we should take it out again?"

Etu nodded from with her cowl, appearing to accept the consensus the others had reached.

"Yes, refuge is needed. Does one call to you, Alyeda who was La?  Or have you all in this way also been cast out? Given time, I will create my own. Yet the expenditure of power behind such a thing would be great, and much is needed before I am truly ready."

She drew closer, her presence a palpable heat upon those around her, as if a furnace burned within her shriveled flesh.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:48, Thu 31 Dec 2020.

"I would prefer that. If you truly wish to converse with that...monster, do it elsewhere than my sitting room." Kayla's voice is stiff, as is her posture.

  "Someone will need to represent the Flowers in their garden, "Alyeda gently points out in response. "I can come alone, later, if that's better for you. But I told you—I live at your people's expense, one way or the other. I am in your debt."

  The way she says the word, it stokes the dimmest embers of ambition to life. 'And how a goddess can pay,' it whispers quite beside her own voice.  Between her influence and the confidence of the Sun's Aegis, the one "mere" mortal in the room at last gives a subtle nod.  Alyeda gives Rahim's hand a gentle squeeze; the world blurs around them in an eddy of passage-through with no coherent feeling of direction.  And then the entire group stands at the edge of the compound.  The Lampkeeper and the Riddle arrive with their feet just outside the line of the walls without being outside the group, and she holds the last lamp, its light still pulsing in time with Laila's heart.

  "You should have this back.  La took it, thinking she might need protection from the nightmare under your dream, but she preserved the magic inside.  It might even still bar Rahim despite my caveat, once you hang it back up.  Ah, if you still feel the need, when we're finished here."  She holds it out to Kayla by its hanging-hook.  Her attention briefly rounds the participants she actually knows, then she sets her shoulders squarely.

  "Song Zhiao Fan wrote, in Where Leaves May Fall, 'Vengeance is a fire that burns the furnace down'," she began, quoting the Dreamers' most famous contributor to Irohn's literary canon.  "I have pulled the splinter out, here, but the wound is still infected.  What kind of further violence will clean it?  Whose suffering will bring peace to those who grieve?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Fri 01 Jan 2021.

Watching this all play out, Rashana's conclusions had confirmation from Alyeda's words, but under the tension of the moment, it was easier to let the others converse for a moment, as she tried to sort out what, exactly, she thought of the matter. When Alyeda simply... moved them all, Rashana tensed slightly, her guard raised as her eyes focused on that, particularly as she noted Kayla had been brought along.

"You know, magicking people around without asking them is not exactly..." She exhaled. "Whoever you are, now, you've lost a lot of your subtlety. Maybe too much of it."  Rashana shook her head, and looked to Kayla. "Whatever the circumstances, I trust that Rahim will trouble this Garden no longer. And I think we all wanted to help you. Circumstances are... complicated, now, but that is still true enough."

Rashana exhaled, smiled briefly at Laila, then looked back to Alyeda. "Out of respect for La, I'm willing to give you a chance. She was reclusive and quiet, but I could relate to that. You... don't seem like her, anymore. Even if part of her is still there, it's not the same for me. I don't want suffering or vengeance. I just want... " She exhaled, heavily, unable to find the precise words - or maybe just not knowing how to finish the thought, at all.

Rashana folded her arms, in a closed and guarded posture, and exhaled a heavy breath. "I'm... just tired, now. I don't know how I can feel so exhausted. I haven't done anything. I haven't even processed you at all." She said, with a glance aside to Etu. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I'm just... dealing with a lot right now." Her arms uncrossed, but her hands fumbled together, and a flexible, multi-armed tool formed in her hand instinctively, of pale shimmering light, which she kept restlessly adjusting into different configurations.

"I... I have questions about what both of you intend to do in the Nexus, when we return. The people of Irohn depend on us for guidance, depended on La, but you aren't exactly her anymore, and you have been through so much." She looked to each of them in turn at that... then to Rahim. "...And I don't trust him at all - I'd say it's nothing personal, but actions have consequences, and that includes whether or not someone thinks you're trustworthy. Maybe you have no more reason for killing people, but you did, and on a grand scale. That's all. I don't want him dead, I just don't want anyone else to get hurt right now."

Rashana's free hand came up and pressed into her face with a heavy breath. "... I don't know how to handle it all, right now, when so little of it actually makes any rational sense. I don't think I can deal with asking those questions and taking the answers right now."

She lowered her hand, and started moving - walking away from the gathered group, along the wall some ten feet, before she leaned herself against it, and slid down, a faintly-shimmering bench forming underneath her as she tipped her head back against the wall. She was definitely still in earshot, but clearly trying to remove herself for the moment.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Fri 01 Jan 2021.

Etu drew in a raspy breath, her hooded gaze unmoving from Rashana as the Maker addressed her.

"I am here as an instrument neither for the infliction of suffering or the administer of vengeance."

She said at last, her voice a groan in the wind.

"I was wrath, and in truth I am wrath, but none here are the wellspring from which that emotion pours. Not even him, though he touched near enough to it with his actions against me. No, not against me.  That appears to suggest intent."

Her eyes were not visible beneath her cowl, but the weight of her gaze had drifted upon Rahim, then fell.

"That which fills and sustains me is directed at one, and one only.  Myself. I am here to atone for the crimes that I committed upon the souls of our brothers, sisters, and others under Anaya's will. I had thought myself merely a fashioner of tools, binding unthinking and unfeeling souls to flesh to fashion the labor that gave fruit to paradise. Long did I labor, confident in my pride, attaching chain after ghostly chain about the necks of my fellows. For the sin of this hubris, I will be doomed for a thousand lifetimes. There is no hope of redemption, but at least within the multitude of eons that stretch out before me I may endeavor to undue that which I have wrought."

Her staff hummed with power as she spoke.

"I will find those who have paid the price for my hubris, and I will liberate them from the chains I placed there. I cannot restore them to the wheel, but I may at the very least give them the choice. I will give unto them what life I can, though such has never been my domain. I will build for them a fortress of the mind and the soul, a bastion where they will be protected from any such as I who may come from now until the end of time. Much is needed, much will be needed, jade, diamond, gold, silver, and fleece. It will be a great working, but it will only be the first step of thousands in the journey of my penance."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:51, Sat 02 Jan 2021.

  Alyeda's teeth squeak from how tightly she clenches them during Etu's explanation, though the stiff posture had been there from almost the moment Rashana began speaking. Her intake of breath is quick and full-volume, a sound to hold her place while she decides the last of her words.

  "We were told their souls had already returned to Amaya—that the Restless were little more than automata despite the macabre sourcing." Her voice is tight in the way of bowstrings, and it sounds near to its maximum draw. "It little matters now. I will explain to the Intermediaries once I have a draft policy ready for curtailing their use in the temples. But the doctrinal scandal will be extreme."

  Her voice rises. It makes her sound even less subtly angry, but it does make obvious that she wants the distant tinker to hear. "—and it would be terribly unlike La to accept enough authority to resolve that. They will have to find their own way through. Although, it was like her to magically present herself as Amaya to direct their decisions anyway. She just thought she was dreaming it, found the nightly blasphemies frightening, and wanted them to stop. Rashana!  That's when you understood her." The hardness is abruptly gone from her voice. The last that precise tone spoke, the voice belonged to La, and it was offering the Lampkeeper safety from his threat against her. Now, it speaks of La, but she is hardly the point.

  "She was comfortable and familiar to you when she was frightened, and when she could not see her own worth. She imagined the lot of you were quite as far above her, spiritually, as she was above an ant. I want everyone to consider that, please, when you have quiet time. Whatever you thought about La, it regarded someone just as confused by her new reality as the rest of you. But while you had the honor of position to reassure you it must, at least, be a good reality, La could not imagine herself more than a Servant. A servant ended the threat to the people of the garden by rescuing a whore while the nobles drank tea. Meditate on that also, please. Except Rashana. Sweet girl, you think too little of yourself already.  Remember that the woman holding the Remnant government together almost single-handedly admired your wisdom."  Finished for the moment, she releases the breath that was holding her posture so proud and shuffles back a footstep.  It's a minimal relaxation, just on the edge of the spotlight, but she seems markedly smaller now that she isn't projecting.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:08, Sat 02 Jan 2021.

"You spoke, Scholar, about making choices," Rahim says softly in the silence that follows on Bire Alyeda's words. "You said that you needed to make choices, about what to sacrifice on the altar to save the rest. What would you call someone who for fear of what would be thought of him refused to make such a choice, if not a coward and betrayer?" He smiles, more than a little sad. "That was what I was given. The chance to kill some, so that others might live, and be known for all my days as a monster - or to do nothing, remain a beloved god of my people, and watch them wither and die."

His voice is deep and sorrowful as he continues. "So yes, Rashana was it? Yes. I killed. I killed more than I could ever atone for. There is no place for me in the halls of heroes, I have made my peace with that. But then, who among us can truly say that she would never kill, no matter the cost of staying her hand?"

Alvatter bit back a quick retort, his mind soothed by a foreign force that seemed to be present among the group. Instead he straightened, rising to his full but ultimately unimpressive height and meet eyes with Rashim the Lampkeeper.

"If it's all the same to you perhaps we table philosophical debate and instead focus on the full details of this decision you made and the events that lead up to it. We've established that you killed others to preserve someone, someone how has melded with Bire La to become Bire Alyeda. You also attest that these actions were done to preserve the denizens of this realm. Please. Explain it to us so that we might truly understand."

As Rashana tried to extricate herself, the attention, the address, and the focus followed her. She tensed a little where she was now seated, and she listened as Etu answered the question she had raised. In all honesty, whatever assurances she had ever heard regarding the use of the bodies of the dead, the practice had always felt uncomfortable to the engineer. Using people as a part in that way, even just the fleshy automaton of a formerly inhabited body, had never felt truly comfortable to her. So, it wasn't as much of a shock for her, to learn that it really wasn't a thing that was just okay. "... Perhaps there was no way to know it was like that, before. But you know now, and..." She nodded her head. "I have never felt at ease with the practice, myself. There will be resistance, but, we are revered to a point..." She seemed uncomfortable admitting that. "Though, I do not know how well new arrivals will be able to win the favor of the people, even announced as an Inheritor. Perhaps some who knew you survived the chaos." Rashana seemed, at least, to approve of Etu's plan.

The burden of having to watch over the people seemed like a weight for her, in the moment. Something seemed like it was pressing her down into her seat, at least. Alyeda seemed to agree smoothly with that approach, though. As easily as La would, if she were to propose it, Rashana realized. As she spoke about how La would appear as Amaya to guide the decisions of the government, there was a soft sigh from the artisan. "... La... had a great many hidden talents. I had only been realizing slowly what she was capable of. I had wanted to tell her, ask her. Help her understand what kind of potential she had. I didn't really know how I was going to approach her about it, when the time came."

She exhaled, her head lowering slightly as Alyeda continued, elaborating on how small La thought she was. Her assumption about how reassured they must've been by their positions made her tense a little. Of how a servant had saved the garden while the nobles drank tea.

"...La acted without understanding the situation. Without consulting those who were involved, or who could've helped her. We weren't just drinking tea, we were consulting the locals before we meddled in their affairs. We're outsiders here, we were trying to understand the situation before we did anything carelessly. For all of her acting as a servant, as our companion, in this, she acted on her own without concern for her own safety, the position of the garden and its inhabitants, or concern for... us." She shook her head gently. "I don't understand why she did that, it wasn't like her." She glanced up at Alyeda uncertainly. "... Though, I'm not upset with her. Just... confused about why she did it, and sad that it ended the way it did. She's here, but not here, and I'm not really completely sure what that means, or how to feel about it." La's presence would recognize some of that pain - it was similar to how Rashana had seemed upon the loss of Laila and the realization that they couldn't go back for her.

There was a quiet breath as Alyeda went on to address her directly, then. She let the moment linger as she mulled over words, a response. She just took a couple of soft breaths, before speaking in a quiet tone. "... Alyeda. Please don't try to tell us how we should feel about things. I just need some space and time to..." She hesitated with her lips parted, unsure what word to fill the gap with. She settled on lightly shaking her head and closing them.

She looked briefly up to Alvatter, her features a little pale and her eyes slightly wet, as he addressed Rashim. She gave a small, subtle nod, as he asked for more understanding, quietly trying to yield the floor. She slowly got to her feet, bench vanishing and her eye watched for an opportunity to slip away, if only behind the wall, up a tree, or past some brush.

-----
If Rashana can find an opportunity to take some cover and get out of view, she aims to use A Prowling Power's stealth to try and duck out of people's sight. She's not going anywhere, just wants to shed the attention, which would be automatic unless she does something to draw attention to herself, prompting a spirit save. I figure an opportunity won't exist until the conversation actually moves away from her directly, though.

  Alyeda draws a deep breath and spends several seconds holding it in silence, eyes closed.  It comes out quickly when it does and lets her shoulders round even further.  She doesn't open her eyes to respond, at first.  "As someone who cares for your well-being, and who spent three years helping the new girls adapt, I was trying to be encouraging.  I apologize; it was too familiar of me.  I need to remember we aren't friends."  One more shake of her head, and she finally raises it again.  A flicker of terrible weariness enters her eyes when she looks at Alvatter.

  An instant later, the polite emptiness of the underling washes everything else away and there are only questions to answer.  "When I saw this garden with Iesha's eyes, it was an emerald in a sea of gold, a private oasis created and maintained by sorcery, but in the midst of a desert, not endless chaos.  I lived here once, entertaining the Pasha and his guests."  She pauses for breath, and to collect her thoughts, and to glance up at Rahim before she moves on.  "Rahim was the unfairly handsome head of harem security.  It was hardly the simple duty the Comedies poke so much fun at, but it did include what you'd expect: keeping any threats to our chastity at bay.  We tried to avoid each other for a time.  It didn't work."

  She tells the story as though deposing herself before a court, every detail offered as though it were just an item on a mental checklist, and her demeanor carefully Certain.  "I was executed for adultery.  Burned alive, on a pallet of used hay to make the point clearer.  Rahim broke free of the men holding him and leapt into the fire with me.  The last words I remember from that life were his promise to protect me.  I cannot say what happened in the meantime—why La arrived in a clearing full of dying sacrifices, how long Iesha was a bound spirit. But..."  And there, she finally loses her grip on the calm act.  Actual vulnerability slips out, and she doesn't rush to cover it up.

  "Please do not ask me to choose between my people and my heart."

Etu went utterly still.

"The Restless toil still?"

There was a pause, an intake of breath, the singular moment of calm before the storm broke. Then with a sigh she released the tension, her muscles uncoiling and her grip on her staff unclenching.

"No, have we not just born witness to the terrible price of haste and desperation?  I will not walk the same path trod within that Garden by Rahim, uncaring for the purity of his will and the selflessness of his intent.  What choices you make are your own, Alyeda who was La, and I will have no say in them.  A stone at rest can be shaped and molded, but as the sun sets it can only be made smaller. That which has been carved cannot be replaced. Much has changed in only two days, and while my need for justice is pressing, I will not act in reckless haste.  Too much damage already has been done."

She turned to encompass them all within her gaze.

"Speak to me of what shape the world holds. I hear you utter intent of molding and shaping, and yet the old laws seems to hold place. The Restless are still chained, despite my passing between worlds? They must be freed, they must be liberated. Share with me that which I need to know, so that in my duty I do not cause yet more suffering and death."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:00, Mon 04 Jan 2021.

With Alyeda's eyes off of her, Alvatter addressing Rashim, and much of the direct conversation shifting away from her, the blonde slinked back into the treeline slightly, slipping herself out of sight behind the trees. As Alyeda spoke again, she froze for a moment.

"I apologize; it was too familiar of me. I need to remember we aren't friends."

It felt like an icy stab to her heart. Unseen behind the tree, Rashana's hand came up to stifle over her lower jaw, covering her mouth as painful feelings surged under the burden... Like Alyeda expected her to be perfectly okay with what had happened, that nothing was wrong. Expecting that they would already be friends without any context or... ?

Rashana's breath was tense, and she felt a trembling in her frame as her eyes blinked tears, but her hand kept her muffled and silent, out of view. Etu spoke, elaborating on her own situation, and try as she might, Rashana found it so hard to pull her focus from the internal to what she had to say, at the least, to process it in the moment. It was overwhelming and stressful, and the maker felt her pulse pounding as the moment grew heavier.

Her barely contained tears started flowing, but she muffled herself, keeping silent. She breathed deeply, heavy, slow breaths as her sense of the world tipped off-kilter. She began to move, stepping through the undergrowth, the crunch of leaves muted by divine discretion in service to her anxious impulses, hiding her as she made her retreat a stride at a time.

She didn't know this realm. Where she went, she really didn't care, in the moment. Dizzied and fighting her strain, she made a quick and quiet retreat into the woods, moving away from the gathering along that wall. Once she was a few paces away, she ran instead, ran for several minutes, until she dropped to her knees in the forest.

It was just too much. She was wrong, she shouldn't care. One loss, found again, but another loss, except replaced, and she didn't understand how or why. It wasn't only the moment, but weeks of worry and struggle and strain, obligation and trying and failing to meet it, layers  weight her down and it had finally broken her to collapse. Her hands shook, as she brought them up to cover her face and muffle her tears, as she let herself just cry under the pressure.

Rahim sighs heavily. "Let me elaborate, then. After the war, after the world broke, the Garden was left isolated. The theurges of the Nexus were our only contact with the outside world. We were left alone, confused, and largely left to ourselves."

"I had the power of a god, and I used it to preserve the people here. What else was I to do? They were my friends, my companions. And so I protected them, guarded them, from the monsters of Uncreated Night and the occasional intrusion from another realm that found its way here. And for a time, all was well. Their prayers and my power were enough to sustain the spirit of Iesha."

He sighs heavily. "But then the doorway to the Nexus closed. I don't know why, but the theurges stopped coming, and the door was closed, and we were alone. Without enough food, only fruits and flowers, the people turned on each other. Infighting was consuming them. The people I loved were killing each other for a scrap of meat or simple frustration. Can you imagine how much that hurt? To watch as the delicate system I had created, and the people I had sacrificed to protect, were killed by each other?"

He begins to pace in a tight circle. "At that point, I realized there was a pattern. Every time there was an intrusion from the Night, the people put their differences aside until it was resolved. An enemy made them close ranks, you see? And so I was left with a choice. I could remain their god, their friend, their guardian - and watch them kill each other. Or I could...become the enemy that made them work together for protection. I could kill some few, retreat to the forest, and become a monster, so that they always had something to make them see the value in cooperation and working together rather than abandoning each other."

He pauses, and then says, "I wasn't sure at first what to do. But then I saw a man murder someone and eat her because he wanted something of more substance than fruit. He was the first I took. It all flowed from there. May the One have mercy, I know every step I took that led me here, and yet I still feel so lost."

Alvatter listened attentively as Bire Alyeda spoke of what she had gained during her fusion with the spirit of Iesha. His face was placid as he took in the details and when she was finished he gave her a single nod of his head. Then Etu spoke and after processing her words more than a few times in his own head he gave her a nod as well but did not comment further. There were many conversations swirling about and he had to keep focus on the topic he needed to know most.

Then Rahim spoke and his understanding began to solidify, although not without some holes in his understanding.

"I see."

He paused, considering his next words carefully as the foreign power worked its effect upon his mind to smooth his normally lackluster social graces.

"I can appreciate, if not understand, the difficulty of the decisions you made and the perceived necessity of them. Especially in light of the circumstances surrounding your relationship with the late or perhaps transfigured Iesha. I cannot say what I would have done in your position, trapped in a garden set adrift in the Uncreated Night with a devout group of people looking to you for guidance."

"You may well have saved the sum of their society even if it cost many people their lives. Unfortunately we do not have the luxury of diving futures that did not come to pass. I can only maintain, at least to myself, that there was another way."

He quickly held up a staying hand, hopefully stifling whatever interjections or comments might arise.

"That, however, is neither here nor there. What I would like to know now is how you achieved apotheosis. From Bire Alyeda's account you were a guard who threw himself upon a pyre. How did you awaken to the powers of a divinity and what exactly are these powers that you possess."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Wed 06 Jan 2021.

Etu had attempted to keep each of these strange creatures in sight as they had spoken, but somehow she had lost the one that had named herself Rashana.  Her hooded gaze panned back and forth, trying to discern where the woman had gone, but she could not pierce the veil of subterfuge that had been woven.  She shook her head as if to clear it, listening to the others and trying to make sense of their words. She had been trapped since the Calamity, and yet Rahim's actions had been well after. How long then had she been bound? She did not know, could not know. Time had not existed, within her crystalline prison. She had just felt that wave of darkness roil, and Anaya's presence vanish like a dream.  Understanding had come to her then, of what she had done in her name. It had been too much, and she had collapsed into unconsciousness.  When she awoke, it was to her crystalline prison, and her own laments.

"For how long was I imprisoned?"

She said at last, looking between Rahim and the others.

"For how long has the world been broken, and how many survive?"

Would she even be able to understand this new existence? Rahim had spoken of having the power of a god.  Is that what she was now too? Was her new understanding born of that same place?  She could not say. She could feel that wellspring of power within her, observe its effects upon the world. She had assumed that was just a side effect of her wielding Anaya's Breath, but it seemed that it was more than that.

Laila had been silent for some time, barely even a presence amidst the rising tensions.

It had all begun with La’s re-emergence. What might have been a welcome surprise, an innocent mistake put right, had failed to draw either of relief or joy from her. Laila’s realisation had taken the form of a subdued and wary stillness rather than abject shock, and her brief flicker of wide-eyed realisation was swiftly smothered by an unyielding stony expression. If she felt anything at La-in-Alyeda’s admission of guilt then it was shuttered, buried deep. What was that though but a tacit admission that she felt something.

That was the last of it. From then she had been closed off, diminished, easily ignored. A light gone dim.

Rashana had been the one to begin to chip away at that shell, because of course it would be her. Her words, her pleas, her sheer emotional exhaustion couldn’t help but stir up a restless energy in Laila, a stiff knot of emotion, but even then she was still left watching from the sidelines. It was all so overwhelming – so much – and in the light of things she had half a mind to quit the scene herself. She couldn’t though, whether for responsibility, propriety or simple cowardice. Her mind wouldn't let her make that choice; it would be worse than staying.

Still something broke within her as she watched Rashana turn in tears and flee. It was the worst kind of wake-up call, one which had only reached her after things had long passed boiling point. A sharp and painful admission that things had gone too far, and a stark realisation that she had done nothing but stand by and let this happen. Another all-too-preventable failure marked against her name.

She could have acted – should have – but instead failed to take a stand, consumed by indecision. Perhaps there was something to what Rahim had said. Perhaps deep down she really was a coward too afraid of the consequences.

That had to change. She had to make a choice, for what use was the Sun if too ashamed to show its light.

---

With new revelations, with the truth finally given voice, a way forward finally began to form within her mind. Laila found herself looking on the strangers anew, and even as the firestorm their words had raised within her turned to ice she found it thawing under that fresh lens. Alyeda’s desperate plea had her composure on the edge of slipping and she clung to herself tightly, her fingers tangled up in the hem of her cloak. Even that softened though as Rahim offered his past and perspective. Her throat bobbed in sympathy.

It felt as though she finally understood them, like something had finally cut through all the noise.

Laila stirred at last, her mind made up. She gave one last look towards Rashana’s path of flight, affirmed her own course with a nod, and then finally forced herself to move. Her stiff steps carried her not towards her fellow Inheritors but the one who still stood apart from them. Towards Kayla al-Saif.

She settled in alongside her friend but only had eyes for the debate before them. For a while Laila was content to listen and absorb all she could, letting the dead air between them draw out. It was only when Alvatter sought to push his questioning further that she inclined her head towards Kayla and spoke in a tone wistful and tired. “I’m sorry, Kayla. None of this has gone as I had hoped.”

Half-heartedly she cast her hand towards the others, palm open. “When they found their way here I thought that we would finally have our answers. I hoped that your people might finally know peace.” A bitter sigh as her arm dropped. “Perhaps we have some of those answers now, but it feels like we’ve only brought you new conflicts rather than ending them.”

“I know that we can be better than this.  Everything I told you about Alvatter and Rashana is true, and that woman …” -her eyes marked out Alyeda- “… even if she’s a stranger to me now, I trusted who she was before. They’re people I was willing to die for, and it hurts seeing them like this. Seeing us fall apart and feeling powerless to stop it.”

Laila turned to look Kayla head on at last. While far from how dejected she had looked at her lowest, there was still a downward cast to her features. She spoke earnestly and with contrition. “All of this happened because your voices were ignored, and I’m truly sorry for that. But I’m here now, and I’m listening.” The ghost of a smirk caught her lips. A welcome flash of confidence. "And I think I can end this."

“But for that I need to you be honest with me: what justice would satisfy your people, Kayla? How do you want this to end?”

  "Anaya's presence scattered into Their Inheritors on eleventh— Uh, eleventh Phaio... Oh! Finally!" Alyeda leaps at Etu's question with a librarian's eagerness to synthesize. La had delivered the month's repair orders (and a forecast of the See's upcoming maintenance needs, and usually a report on tomorrow's weather and a personalized horoscope) in the same tone, back home. But she barely begins before her attention drifts after Laila, eventually breaking away from the conversation entirely.

  Alyeda, likewise, slips away. But she reconvenes a moment later, just close enough to Kayla to mark all the rest as outside her attention. It puts her half a pace back from Laila, just beyond arm's reach to the right.  The flowers are larger near her, their colors more saturated. Faint eddies of jasmine breeze tug her hair back and wind it into a complex braid right in front of them. As high as she's keeping her head, it shows a lot of neck.

  "I apologize for my distraction earlier. I am—" Alyeda's eyes lower, and a shift in her weight settles it firmly on her heels. "And for that, I am in my nieces' and nephews' most terrible debt."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:31, Sun 10 Jan 2021.

"My name is of the sword. But I...there has been too much death here. Too much blood soaks this dirt already." Kayla's voice is choked by emotion. "Go. Just...just go."

Alvatter was perturbed by the seeming lack of cohesion in the group, conversations being carried out entirely separate of what he felt was the true objective of their meeting at current. He considered, albeit briefly, trying to reassert control over the situation but when Laila spoke to Kayla and was asked to leave he simply sighed.

"Yes..yes perhaps that's best for the moment. Let us return to the Nexus. There we might resolve this matter further. We can return to the Garden when we have answers and a plan."

Assuming no one stopped him, Alvatter was the first through the portal back to Nexus. His hand massaged his forehead as a headache began to mount.

  "No one should have to make such decisions so quickly," Alyeda responds, oblique as ever. Her tone is gentle, but the glance she shoots Laila in the process of turning around is pointed. She searches for Etu's eye.

  "Thirty-seven days since Anaya was divided. Thirty-four since the Remnant departed. We could wait no longer. Likewise, we should all be going now." A pile of yellow dust, just paler than clover pollen, lies in her palm. A breath turns it into a cloud. She extends a hand toward the Lampkeeper and a wry smile to the rest of them.

  "Darling. The rest of you will have to breathe deep to follow, I'm afraid." Then she mimes opening a door against the palisade and leads him through the wall. Both vanish completely. Seconds later, in Nexus, the darkness ripples again and disgorges the inhabitants of the Garden together. There are already several busy-looking people with clipboards approaching by the time Alyeda is three paces into the plaza.

Etu had nothing to say to that.

Thirty seven days then, for what had seemed an eternity of years. She wondered, as she had a thousand times within that prison, if that what those she had inflicted undying servitude upon had experienced. Trapped forever within a cage of her making. She would have her answers soon enough, and then her great work could begin. Gathering both her badge of office and the mantle that came with it, she moved to follow Alyeda towards the plaza.

Her attention having been on Alyeda over her shoulder, Laila’s head whipped back around at Kayla’s strangled request. She found herself reeling, eyes darting between the others as they accepted in turn without complaint. Even without thinking she found the words slipping free, a tinge of desperation to them. “What? But I ...”

And then she caught herself. Stopped dead.

Laila forced herself to stand by as the others went their own ways. Maybe there was a look in her eyes that bordered on pleading, small gasps escaping her like stillborn words, but she made no move to act on what was racing through her head. If they could simply turn and walk away then it was hardly her place to stop them – to tell them what was right and what they should think. Perhaps … perhaps she had been wrong in assuming that she knew the best course in the first place.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

She regarded Kayla with a stiff formality so different from her approach mere moments earlier. A forced front fraying at the edges. Even with her mind set it still took Laila a second to find her words, her mouth left hanging awkwardly mid-thought. “Our doors will will always be open to you, and if we learn anything that could help - I understand if you don't want our help, but just ...” She did her best to give a watery smile. “Please think about it. Please?”

With a parting nod she turned and made for the treeline and the absent Rashana.

Only then did she finally release her power and leave Kayla to ponder things with a mind entirely her own.

---

Back set against a tree, Laila allowed herself to breathe. Breaths came shaky and tense but still they helped. She pulled the armour back in around her heart, set the clasps tight and forced herself to move forward, in mind if not entirely literally.

During her time in the Garden she had made more than a few patrols of the world beyond the walls, whether to learn the lay of the land, provide an escort to foragers or assist in the relighting and replacement of the warding lanterns. She didn’t truly know this place but that hardly mattered. All that mattered was that she had known it – that the light knew it. She whispered a small prayer of thanks to Anaya – force of habit – that Rashana had not been more subtle in her flight.

Laila went down on one knee, placing a hand upon the trail of disturbed foliage, and reached out with her senses. The sun became her eyes, tracking those small signs of a forced passage from one patch of daylight to the next. Some of it was little more than guesswork between literal blind spots and those she had never walked, but eventually ... there.

It took all her self-control to not simply drop everything and run.

She made her approach with a conscious effort not to catch Rashana unawares. The last thing Laila wanted was to be another shock, another welcome surprise, so she closed the gap between them cautiously but calmly and from within Rashana’s field of view. She announced herself while still a good few meters away.

“Shana …?” Laila’s own uncertainty bled through, and she raised her hand in a placating gesture – desperate not to seem a threat. Her voice was soft, reassuring if not entirely sure. “It’s alright. I’m here for you.”

A few steps closer, slower now. She reached out tentatively, reluctant to make contact however much she wanted to.

“Are you …? Can you look at me?”

OOC:
Ending Heart of the Lion and using some narrative time Effort commitment to track Rashana through Sunlit Sight.

One way or another, Rashana was not hard for someone of Laila's talents to pursue.  While she had been fairly stealthy simply from her desire to slip away unseen, that didn't really hide the traces she left behind, or the emotional residue of her withdrawal into the trees. She had run into the woods for some ten minutes before she had stopped, and so Laila could trail her easily, finding her by the sound of shaky breathing and upset sobs, the sort that puttered out of someone who had managed to pour themselves out to the first point of fatigue.

The sound of footsteps in the brush and leaves perked her attention, and as she twisted to look, the soft voice seemed to soften her expression. For a moment, the girl down on her knees just stared, then she reached up and wiped her arm over her eyes, audibly drawing in her breath. Her head nodded, as the arm came clear of it, and lowered. She was red in the cheeks and her bright eyes seemed stormy instead, as the cloud hung around her. "H-hey. You came." Her softened expression shifted into a slightly wistful slant, before it became a faint smile, and her eyes lowered. Her posture softened, arms uncrossing as she took a heavier breath. She was still shaking a little, especially her hands.  At the very least, she didn't feel closed, as she had with Laila's approach.

Of course it would be her. The day didn't like being subtle about things. When Laila asked her to look, she twisted about, angling her legs into a curl beneath her as she spun about a third of the way, so she was facing her at an angle, now. Seeing the hand outstretched, Rashana's eyes lowered briefly. Her hands squeezed each other atop her skirt in her lap, before she pulled one free to reach up to the one hand offered to her. She hesitated for a moment, then gently touched. She exhaled a breath, and Laila could feel a sense of relief wash back up through the flood again, obvious even without her keen sense for emotion; with it, it was as obvious as a flare in the night. Just as quickly, the tide of that emotion ebbed to mingle with a more tense and timid feeling. "I.... I'm sorry about just... just running off like this. It was just getting to be... too much." She still had that shakiness to her, looking up to meet Laila's eyes directly, now.

She did still have that shaky instability to her emotions, heightened emotion that seemed prone to swinging wildly from one to the next, a tempest stirred up by just the right conditions. Her fingers grabbed on to Laila's, squeezing them gently.

  At five paces, her leg buckles under her. No surprise registers on her face, and her fall is controlled, but that only means she hits her knees hard to spare her wrists. The clerks, nearly upon her, lose speed. It isn't enough; the Intercessor's lunch escapes her before her weight has even settled, and none of them fully escape the splash. Alyeda's sleeves take the worst of it, at least. At a glance from her, they scatter, one returning quickly with water while others start assembling teams or moving purposefully off into the city. Even the Restless were not so easily directed, though she'd always delegated with the clipped efficiency of triage. When someone begins heading her way with a mop, Alyeda backs away toward an unused alley.

In the Garden, Kayla nods to Laila. "I will. We will. You are still a friend, you are still...but we need time. Time for the wounds to heal. And I cannot promise that we will ever be at ease with him, after this has all...I cannot promise welcome for him."

---

In the Nexus, Rahim moves almost instantly to catch Alyeda, but doesn't quite finish the movement. He is standing at wary attention, eyes everywhere and nowhere all at once. "This is...a far cry from the Garden, this city-world," he murmurs.

Alvatter is not quick enough to say Alyeda from her fall and he doesn't follow her when she moves off into the alleyway alone. Instead he looks to Rahim.

"Yes it is and we will see to your familiarization. In the meantime however please see to Bire Alyeda. I fear she may be overwhelmed at the moment and her changes could prove taxing, possibly even unstable."

Laila squeezed back, soft and tender. “It’s okay. Really. I understand.”

She shuffled a little closer. There was a certain awkwardness to the movement, her mind still undecided on the right balance between contact and space. It left Laila eyeing the gap between them as if warring within over whether she should bridge it or not. In the end she settled against and raised her eyes with a nervous smile, suddenly self-conscious. She huffed out what just might have been a laugh. “I felt the same, I mean. It was too much – nothing like I had hoped. I might not have ran, but if I wasn’t so familiar with keeping those feelings locked away I think I might have.” Laila’s thumb gently stroked up and down Rashana’s fingers. “I think you were the braver of us, truth be told. You weren’t afraid to speak your mind and show what was in your heart.”

Her eyes turned down to look at their clasped hands. Despite Laila’s best efforts there was a faint air of melancholy about her, those words as much a barb turned inward as an outward compliment. When she spoke again her tone was slow and thoughtful. She didn’t look up.

“Anaya may have chosen us, but none of us was made to bear this weight. Despite our power we’re only human and inevitably will make mistakes, argue … fail. That’s just the way of things.” She gave Rashana’s hand another soft squeeze. “That’s why this is important. We pick each other back up; we make sure no-one has to carry more than they can manage.” A flick of the head towards her absent left arm. She rolled the shoulder for emphasis. “Nothing good happens when we push ourselves too far.”

Laila inched a little closer, her jaw working as if feeling out her words. She was in no rush to force something out for its own sake and chose to let the quiet draw on, still but for the slight motions of her head. Eventually even that came to an end. She stirred. “What I’m trying to say is … of course I came back for you, Shana.” Laila looked up, and her eyes were soft and warm and honest. “I’ll always come back for you. I promise."

"Anaya lied to me."

Etu said with finality, staring hard at those who had stepped through into Nexus from within the darkness of her cowl. There was iron in her voice, so unlike the woman she had been. Her form had always been twisted by the mantle of her office, but none who had known her had ever heard he speak with such unconcealed rage. The fury was directed not at all at her new companions, it had not even been aimed at Rahim upon the revelation that he had been her captor. It had been aimed purely at herself, and at their creator. Her voice was bitter and corroded by whatever revelations she had experienced during her enforced solitude.

"Everything that has come before was tainted with that deception, and the power spoken of within the Garden that suffuses us is similarly twisted. Are all who have survived the collapse transformed such, or are some infused with divine purpose and others spared such power and responsibility?"

She paused, simmering but contained within herself.

"What of Nexus, what of the other survivors? I have seen some of the dynamics between each of you, some of you known to me and others not. I see that you are changed in the ways that I sense I am changed. I see that it has altered things between you, and that you are still adjusting to what that means for each. I am an outsider here, and thus likely I have only seen the surface. I have no insight to offer there, it is not my place to interfere. What of the world upon which you manifest such power? You have spoken of shaping the perceptions and beliefs of others, not as Anaya did. Are all not suffused with Anaya's cursed divinity then? Are some still as they were, untainted and untouched by the fall?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:35, Tue 19 Jan 2021.

Rashana was still trembling, caught in a storm as Laila approached and as she began to offer her supportive words. At the very least, she agreed with how intense the whole situation had become. Her heart pounding, she drew comfort from what Laila had to say, and her breath drew in, exhaled more slowly as she sat upright a bit more, and brought her arm up to wipe her face lightly, once more. The brush of Laila's fingers over her own softened the blonde's grasp, but didn't break it.

"I don't know about brave. I just felt like it was getting out of hand. I... really still don't know what to make of this. I..." She paused, then trailed off entirely for a moment, making a thoughtfully quiet sound as her lips closed and her head lowered again. She bit her lower lip slightly as the words lingered, before Laila went on, reassuring her that despite all their power they were still human, still fallible, still able to make such a mess of things.  "Yeah..." She looked back to Laila as  she agreed, in time to catch the nod toward her missing arm. Her eyes followed the indication, lingering on what was left of it, there. Rashana twisted where she sat, and turned to face Laila a little more directly, her free hand patting the ground beside her and the other gently pulling her a little bit nearer. The storm had steadily calmed, just hearing her talk, and Rashana let out a breath, managing to echo that faint laugh from earlier.

Laila's words then, a promise that she'd always come back for her, made the maker pause with a brief fluster. Her cheeks warmed to a visible shade of pink as her head angled lower and her eyes lifted, looking Laila in the eye with her head slightly at an angle. Her lips faltered from the subtle frown to a slanted smile. "Okay, that makes me feel a lot better, if I'm honest..." It made her feel... a few things, if Laila was bothering to pry with her keen sense for emotion.

There was a moment of hesitation as her eyes went to their clasped hands, and she gave another little tug - though whether she was aiming to draw Laila to her or to help herself up really depended upon how much firmness Laila put into her hand in the moment - either way, it was a smooth effort to either rise to her feet or pull Laila down to sit beside her - whichever the other woman instinctively leaned into, Rashana herself mirrored with grace, as if it had been the plan all along.

"I admit, though... I don't know what to do about Alyeda. I... I really cared about La. I was starting to figure her out, I think. Slowly. I'd realized she had some special powers, though I didn't know what exactly... Now... I don't know. I feel like I'm just being expected to transfer all that over to Alyeda, despite her being someone completely different, whether La is in there or not. What she said, about not being friends - it was like she expected me to just... be okay with La being gone. Honestly, I'm not a fan of Rahim or anything, but... it's what's happened to La that's bothering me more than anything." She looked up, seeming relieved to just have the words off her chest in what felt like a much safer place. "... Does that make sense?"

In reply to Etu (msg # 134):

Alvatter took stook of Etu, really for the first time since her mysterious appearance. She seemed to have a more personal history with the now absentee, likely deceased goddess, than he did and while he was curious as to how and why he decided that now, especially now, was not the opportune time. Instead he simply listened to her words and did his best to respond to the questions she raised.

"I'm afraid I can't speak much to Anaya's motives or actions. I am an Archivist for the Order of Triumphant Wisdom, a scholarly order dedicated to transcendence through arcane knowledge. Our interactions with Anaya was distant at best. I hope that we can find out the answers in time, together."

He then thought more on her next questions while gesturing for the pair of them to have a seat near the fountain. Alvatter wasn't exactly weak but he wasn't built for the high-stress of what he had just been through. Calming down now had robbed him of a great deal of his strength or perhaps just his desire to do much more than what was necessary.

"As for the Nexus I've been considering it a world between worlds, a hub where some ancient society coordinated movement between various realms or perhaps fragments of realms given the size of the Garden. From what I pieced together from Rahim this place was ruled by theurges for a time and they seemed to be using the realm-gates for resource gathering or some such thing."

He gestured expansively.

"They are gone now, along with nearly all of the evidence of what they were doing here. The people you see are the one we brought from Irohn or as the portal called it 'The Land of Twilight Skies'. It's gone now and these people, and us, are all that remains. That portal is sealed now and I wouldn't recommend opening it."

He pointed to the now sealed portal but quickly moved to her last point.

"Then there is this cursed divinity you speak of. I'm afraid I can't speak to how many people inherited Anaya's power, cursed or otherwise. Those of us you've already meet are all what we've been calling Inheritors. It seems that Rahim is one as well although we weren't created at the same time so it's entirely possible that his power isn't Anaya's but another dead gods. I don't know. I wish I did."

Then he waited, a tiredness gradually seizing him and showing on his face.

Laila made no effort to shift Rashana, instead happily accepting the invitation to join her. She did however excuse herself on the way down with a slightly embarrassed “A moment,” to adjust the angle of her sword and smooth out the lie of her cloak beneath her. Only then, after one last check to make sure everything was in order, did she reach for Rashana’s hand again, a sheepish shrug her only explanation. She just couldn’t help herself.

They were closer now and Laila couldn’t help but feel that bit more confident for it. Where before she had been keen to give Rashana space and control, now she found herself shuffling in until they sat shoulder to shoulder with their hands nestled in the space between them. It didn’t matter that Rashana looked away as she spoke. Laila felt the distance between them falling away, eroding piece by piece as Rashana unburdened herself. She gave her hand small squeezes of encouragement as she went on, stumbling then catching herself, in the hope that such a small thing might carry even if Rashana couldn’t see her face. It didn’t matter if Rashana didn’t think herself brave, Laila needed her to know that she thought it – was there for her through every word.

“It does,” Laila nodded, soft and sympathetic. “This hasn’t been easy for you.”

Despite that affirmation she was slow to speak again. Laila seemed unhurried, content to let this moment of calm stretch or not wanting to set ripples on the water. She couldn’t keep it from her eyes though. Even if her lip still wore the hint of a smile as she sat there calm and warm and steady, Rashana would be able to see a sort of distance to her if she only looked close enough, a mind at work behind her mask.

Eventually she stirred and lightly shook out the cobwebs. Still she didn’t speak immediately. It took a moment of looking into Rashana’s face, idly chewing her own lip, before Laila managed to find her words.

“Being chosen changed us, Shana. You’re worth an army of workers now, and on a good day … maybe I’m worth an army too. But we’re both the same people underneath all that. You’re still you and I’m still me. No amount of power is going to change that.”

“I don’t think other people saw it that way. To them we were divine: the last remnants of Anaya. They weren’t wrong to think that, but that was all that they could see. It didn’t matter that we were normal people just a day ago. Suddenly we had to have all the answers. We just had to.” She sighed and gave a tired little smile, rubbing their fingers together. “But you were still you and I was still me. We still had our memories, flaws, fears. And we made a lot of mistakes Anaya wouldn’t have.”

“And when I think of it like that I start to see a little of myself in Alyeda.”

The words hung in the air, and while Laila headed off any questions with a pointed look she was in rush to explain further. She chewed her lip again. Only after a long beat did she continue, her timbre vulnerable. Soft.

“I was a quieter person before. All this power gave me the confidence to make myself heard … but the things I've found myself saying haven't always been helpful or right, not even when I was sure and speaking from the heart. I changed a lot very quickly, and that must have been hard for the people around me. I felt more comfortable in my own skin than I ever had before, but to them it must have seemed like a stranger wearing my face. Maybe they didn't even recognise me at all.”

“I’m not trying to say this is the same because it isn’t” - quick to make the point -  “but to me it feels similar. Both of us have only known a change like from one side and now we’re seeing it from the other.” Laila shrugged and their shoulders ran against one another, not for indifference but uncertainty. She was picking her words carefully, speaking slowly enough that she seemed afraid of stumbling. No room for misunderstandings. “Maybe Alyeda is different from La, but you and I are also different from who we were before. We don’t know how much she’s changed deep down or if these  ‘changes’ are just pieces of herself that she chose not to let us see.”

“Shana … you’re not wrong to be uncertain. You’re not wrong to feel hurt. But today was bad. We haven’t even begun to know her yet.”

Rashana was quiet and thoughtful as Laila joined her, her thoughts busy in her own head as they settled together, and her eyes lowered to their hands, clasped between them as the sat side by side. "... It's not been easy for any of us, I think..." Rashana agreed with her initial sentiment, and turned back toward her for that lingering moment of quiet, meeting her eyes.

Laila spoke of how they were still so very flawed, and Rashana couldn't help but agree. It made sense, and while she certainly had power now, she didn't really feel like much more than herself. In truth, the reverence had been something she hadn't actively encouraged toward herself, and so...  So, the point about Alyeda made at least some sense.

During the brief lull, Rashana turned to focus on Laila, seeing the hesitation as the other nipped at her lower lip. Then she seemed to open up and talk about herself. Rashana listened, lowering her head in quiet contemplation as Laila shared with her.

"I was always... good at this sort of thing. With my hands. Horrible with dealing with people, though. Which... was never great, given my family or their expectations. And then my talents just brought on a whole other set of people who were interested in what I could do, and I just... didn't want any of it. I wanted to learn, to create, to understand... but..." She shook her head a little. "And I got so much of that, but people are still a mess, and people with all the power we have are so much harder to figure out..." She said quietly, and lightly squeezed Laila's hand in turn.

"But I think I see what you're saying, at least. It's not easy for her, either. I can at least try to understand her for her. I just... in the middle of all of this, all at once, all just... happening. It was a lot to figure out and I just... didn't have any answers." She exhaled a heavy breath, and let her weight shift, slightly inclined against Laila's shoulder, before she turned and wrapped her other arm across her frame, gently up past her severed arm with a feather-light touch as she leaned into a brief embrace.

"I wouldn't say today has been bad... It's been... hard. Very hard. It's been a relief, too, Laila. I'm... I'm really glad you're back..." There was a brief pause, and she looked up to her, a moment of hesitation on her face. "... So, when exactly did you start thinking of me as 'Shana'? I kind of like it... At least, when you say it."

A flush of colour crept its way up Laila’s neck. She swallowed hard. “A while ago. When I realised I missed you most of all.”

“Zara had been trying to teach me how they make the lanterns. I was awful at it, but she did her best to help me. And as she did … all I could think about was your workshop and watching you turn broken things into something beautiful.” Laila sighed long and low and deliberate. “And I needed that. I needed something to remind me that not everything we did ended in loss and failure.”

“It was a small thing but it meant so much to know that. To remember a time when I felt completely happy and sure that we were doing the right thing.”

A shine caught her eyes but Laila was quick to blink it away. Nonetheless her voice still came a little thicker. “I’m really glad to have you back too. I know we haven’t known each other long, but you've grown so dear to me, Shana.”

The maker was quiet, leaned slightly into Laila's good shoulder to listen as she told her story. "... I'm... I'm glad that I was able to be there for you, in a way...  Dealing with all that on your own... When you turned back to hold them off, I...." She exhaled quietly. "I had to remove the mechanism for that gate, to stop myself for going back to find you." She trailed off quietly, letting a moment of silence linger in the air, before she angled her legs, feet away and knees toward Laila, shifting slightly in her position.

"I felt from the start that you understood me in a way I don't think the others... can?  We have a lot in common, heavy expectations, demanding families, people who wanted to make all our choices for us, even Anaya. And there's a lot we need to do, even now." Rashana exhaled quietly, her eyes lowering for a moment. She quietly chuckled a little to herself, as she continued. "But nobody else can really decide for us, anymore, Laila." Rashana glanced back up to Laila, and formed a bit of a grin, one hand brushing away the last of her tears from her eye.

She exhaled, and sat a little more upright, hand settling back in Laila's gently. "I really think... neither of us wants to do this alone... yeah?"