Private Tales In the Listless Night

[Ánië Táralóm]

It had been nearly a hundred and thirty years since the tower fell, since the shadow that ruled over their lands took hold. She remembered when the Eventide fell upon them. She remembered that then, too, the Shoraes had become quiet. But that had been for only but a moment, like the whole of them had merely taken a quiet breath in unison and then their song resumed without further falter. That was far from what had come of them now...

As before, the bringer of the Eventide fell upon their city, and reached to the very heart of their Order, of their people. With his cursed, otherworldly magics did he darken the Shorai itself, claiming the Shoraes and taking their minds for his own... for a time. It seemed but a fleeting, vague dream lasting only but a moment, but neither she nor anyone else seemed to know for how long they had not been themselves. It was a terrifying realization, a violation like nothing any of them had ever dreamed to be possible. And now, released from this terrible grasp by some unseen miracle, she and all like her found themselves wayward in the silent dark. No light showed itself from one's heart, and each one's voice felt hollow. Their song had gone quiet, and no trace of its melody remained as anything other than a distant memory.

For hours now, Ánië dwelt in her chambers, knelt in the midst of a multitude of candles set in a ceremonious arrangement. With her hands steepled together and her eyes closed she softly spoke out into the silence around her. She addressed the greatest of their deities, and beseeched that Astra lend the light of her guidance. In this endeavour she persisted in earnest, though for reasons she understood that she perhaps could not fathom, Astra shared not any clear path.

After much time she departed from her chamber in the Temple where she dwelt, and made her way through its grand corridors. Torches lit their halls, and though the Shorai itself had been mined and entwined with the Temple's architecture, the grand slabs and shards of it that were imbedded and featured in the walls and pillars throughout were... clouded. Even the heart of it which stood tall in the Chamber of Tychan was muddied by this unknown grayness, but more and more with every passing day its light shone through a little brighter, causing the cloud to assuage. She stopped at one great shard set into the wall and placed her hand upon it. It felt... cold.

She turned away as she heard footsteps drawing closer down the corridor. Anxiety rose in her as an uncertainty as to who approached crossed her mind. Being uncertain of who it was who also strolled through the Temple's grand corridors was something she was not accustomed to. That sensation usually meant only one of two things - not that it could be one of her own. Rounding the corner, the person in question was in fact a Shield of the Order, patrolling the Temple as any faithful guard would. She did her best to hide her sudden change from concern to relief, but was also not blind to the relief shown on her kindred's face. They exchanged a smile, but said nothing as they carried on their way. They were far departed from formality in this dark hour.

And so she wandered the Temple's halls with seemingly no aim, letting her feet find where she should go.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

It had all seemed so immutable and beyond threat. She had some fear with the Eventide first fell upon them, yet she remained steadfast then, and the song soon resumed. Raëlta hoped she stood as strong when the Eventide returned, but that she could not truly know. What memories she did hold required much meditation to even glimpse upon. When she did, she found they were were too fractured and disconnected to piece together into anything that could be interpreted, much less coherent. She knew little of that time of darkness, aside from the fact that the Shorai, that bond most holy could be so tainted by darkness.

She knew now that it could. The wisdom was horrifying to behold.

It had not been three days of meditation and prayer, and Raëlta was certain that she'd managed to piece together all that was possible of those dark years that evaded recollection. It was time to cease her inward search for answers, and depart to find them elsewhere. With a defeated breath, she broke free from her trance and slumped to support herself upon her arms for a moment to gather herself. After a moment of respite and a quick meal of water and bread, Raëlta prepared to leave.

She gathered her staff, holy symbols, candles and even incense with her before she left her quarters. She didn't know if she'd need it, nor what for. But if there were ever times to keep the gods close, this was unquestionably one. For that very same reason, she'd not stray from the temple. Perhaps the gods would grant strength or guidance. Raëlta was in great need of either.

She heard footsteps, and the sound was deeply unsettling. A reminder of the great silence that had fallen over her, for she could not see with her mind what she heard with her ears. Unsure of who it was, she followed the sound she heard with curiosity and concern. It was unnerving to not know. It could be, and likely was another of her order, but now they were all as distant from one another as they would be to any outsider. Gone was the bond that linked them.

And in her deepest fears, the footsteps were not friendly, but hostile.

To her relief it was not so, and guards walked by to keep them safe. Some irony, that their presence instilled fear instead. Were Raëlta not in a mood so dark, she might have found amusement in it. Answers were all she could truly focus on, and she continued in her search to find them.

More footsteps could be heard further down, again devoid of any sensation of her mind's eye. That she knew guards were keeping watch eased her trepidation greatly. Raëlta walked onwards with more reassurance than she had before.

That she had to physically search for others of the Sharyrdian remained troubling, but at least she now held the freedom to search. Footsteps felt like fumbling hands, attempting a search by the limited means of moving to the location of interest.

The darkness was dreadful.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

It wasn't as though they knew not what it was like to be away in the quiet. In the past there had been many who had left from Aeraesar and traveled out into the world where the song grew quieter. It was that they could be here in these great halls and not hear the song at all. Despite how discomforting it was, as everything else that had come before, they would have to adapt. She would have to adapt.

As she wandered through their grand corridors she began to hear once again the growing sound of approaching footsteps. There was a great ping of discomfort within her, once again feeling the grief that the inner quiet brought, accentuated by the knowledge of someone near. It was stifled more quickly this time, and her pace faltered not and instead she moved forward in feigned confidence. As she rounded the corner and saw who it was that, like her, could not be found resting. Raëlta was as faithful as one had ever known, and many in the Order respected and admired her diligence and wisdom. Ánië was one such soul. The Councilor approached the Priestess, and Ánië stopped with a few steps or so left between them.

She placed her palm against her chest and bowed her head in greeting, "it is agreeable to see you, Priestess," she said with her eyes upon the floor between them. She spoke of goodness, but to one so familiar Ánië could hardly hide the lack in her voice - the joy that once seemed ever-present sounding far, far away.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

The temple had been her home, yet now felt odd and strange. Walking these familiar halls felt disorienting under the circumstances they suffered, yet the sight of guards had been soothing. Raëlta hoped that further solace might be found in meeting others.

Without the shared sense to link them, she could only search in person and by the noise of footsteps alone. The sound grew in volume as she continued to follow the sound and seek the one making it. It was not long until she encountered Ánië. Raëlta copied the greeting, hand to her chest with a solemn nod to meet that of Ánië's. She wished they were meeting under better conditions, but it was not so.

“As it is to see you, Ánië.” Raëlta replied, her tone no more joyful than hers, though it was a relief to see her.

A cruel irony, that it was most needed to be given in times which she had the least of it.

“This darkness has been a blight upon us. But the dawn, however faint, can only grow brighter.” She began. Words of hope were hard to find. She could use it herself, but it was her place as a priestess to provide it. Desiring to uplift, in times such as these she knew not how. Alas, she was the priestess, and it was up to her to find it. They could not do without spiritual guidance, were they to move forward and rebuild. Which, they would – they had to. Much remained unknown, but the pieces would come in time, she was sure. It was of great importance that they put the pieces together to see what had been done, as ugly as the puzzle might look when assembled. Raëlta was disturbed about what might be uncovered, but resolved to give in to neither fear nor disgust.

Discovery would be a troubling time.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

As ever, Raëlta's words were a soothing comfort. They'd only just been brought out of the encompassing dark, and already she could speak of the hidden hope that they all surely sought for. She could not hear the whispering thoughts behind her voice, but she knew the priestess well enough.

Departing from formality, she moved closer and placed her hand on Raëlta's shoulder and smiled, saying, "may we find hope in one another, if nowhere else."

In the eerie quiet of their hallowed home's great corridors, they lingered for but a short while. The sound of footsteps a great ways off turned her attention, and Ánië broke from the momentary comfort they enjoyed, gesturing toward the main cathedral. At least there the shadows cast by their land's darkness were not so ominous and far easier to read, and the presence of their own not so shrouded in mystery. And perhaps, to be surrounded by those grand images, formed in the likeness of their gods, also likely offered some other measure of comfort.

"Come, Raëlta, let us talk a while, not as priestess or councilor, but one of Aeraesar to another."

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta smiled at Ánië's reply, glad that she'd been able to provide some surely needed hope in times so dark. She hadn't much clue over what had occurred. Raëlta only held fears of how dreadful the answers might be, but not any immediate hint that could lead them to it. Yet, they all had one another, and answers would come with combined effort. And however harrowing they might be to discover, they would all see each other through it.

“We shall, as we always do.” Raëlta warmly responded, looking to Ánië with resolve. There was found more solace found in the sentiment here, than her days of prayer and searching. That they were there was evidence enough that they would rise anew, no matter the toiling and effort needed. No catastrophe could be too great that they could not weather it, so long as they had one another. It would be trying and take great time, but it would be done.

Raëlta needed to hear the uplifting statement. All the same, her hope that things would become better did not elicit hope that things would stay that way. Raëlta knew of true catastrophe now, and worry remained that another could occur. Things were not as unshakable as she had formerly and naively believed, and the awareness was haunting – yet not hopeless. Her fret was a future matter, for they'd first need to rebuild for there to be anything to defend. The road, through long and difficult, would be tread together.

Ánië wished to speak further, and Raëlta was as glad to listen as ever. “Of course. You always have my ear, Ánië.” She replied, reaching up to gently pull her gilded ceremonial circlet from her head. Clasping it in her hands, she looked to Ánië warmly. “As a friend and confidant, then. Another blessing to have.” She softly added.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

They walked through their grand corridors, their pace calmed by the presence of one another. They said little as they made their way to the cathedral, sharing idle musings of the Temple's condition, and some of the tasks that were to be done. Emerging into the Temple proper, they entered into a vast chamber.

The main cathedral was enormous. Tall statues all bearing the image of each of their Celestial gods stood here, and at the fore was the grandest image, that of Astra. Around her were the ascending steps that led on further into the council chamber, and beyond that the Chamber of Tychan where the Shorai itself was. Entering in, they descended many steps onto the main floor. This was the grandest space, and it was divided by parapets, a raised floor at its center where over Aerasar's flag hung. All around, there was an encompassing mezzanine with many grand stairwells. On both levels, there were many archways on either side, each one leading down another grand corridor.

Within, there were several others, most of whom had taken up places before the image of their chosen patron, and quiet prayers were offered up.

"Raëlta, the darkness of these days has weighed upon me heavily," she confessed as they walked through the cathedral leisurely, her hands clasped together over her chest, "As high councilor, it is to me and the Conclave that the people, and yea even the council as a whole, look to see clearly which path to take," her eyes fell, "I fear I can see no clear path."

They continued on their way, Ánië's pace slowing to an amble, "do you remember what is was like, before you were joined?"

Though one could pessimistically say they were being reminded in these very days, Ánië's question meant something else. What they knew now was a time after having experienced the Shoraes' song and felt the presence of their kin more closely than others could probably imagine. What they knew now was a time after they could feel the emotions and inclinations of their brethren around them, at times reading them without so much as a whisper needing to be uttered. What they knew now was a solemn quiet after a soothing melody. But, what of before? Before ever having heard the song, before knowing what could be so woefully torn away.

Ánië was unsure if she really recalled what that ignorance was like, but a part of her wished she could.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

“As it has I.” Raëlta solemnly responded. Many nights had been lost to worry, and the darkness had bothered her dearly . In times of trouble, it was her duty to provide guidance and strength, and these times that they found themselves in was the most troubling she'd ever experienced. She did not know how they might deliver themselves from it either, and it was all she could do to remain stalwart. Yet Ánië shared the same burden, too.

“I cannot either, Ánië. I wish I could, I do long for direction. It is difficult when others look to you for guidance, but you know not where to even begin.” She continued, speaking in earnest. Both women faced the same problem, and though Ánië held no answer either, there was comfort to be found in knowing they were not alone in seeking it. Neither of them might know now, but they would find their way together.

“Before...” She replied, trailing off as she recalled the times before the Shorai had joined her and all of the Sharyrdian. For Raëlta, it was been centuries ago when she'd first been touched by it's unifying song. The moment she had heard it was one she could describe at length, but she had little idea how to describe the comparable nothing that had preceded it. The Shorai had always been sacred since it had become part of her, and the absence of it hadn't been something she looked to recall until now.

“It was so different, so long ago. ” She said, fumbling for the proper way to describe the way she felt before she truly felt. Without awareness of something, there was no longing for it. Without eyes, once can see neither beauty nor horror. Now, she was without the comforting song again, yet with full knowledge of what had been taken from them. To know the Shorai had been wonderful beyond words. To know that it had stopped was a catastrophe for which Raëlta held no answer.

“Blind and fumbling, yet knowing no better.” Raëlta continued, pausing again. “It was long ago, and I cannot recall clearly. I remember being more lost than I was aware.” The Shorai was a blessing, and it's absence a curse upon them.

“But still, the days went on then as they did now. I suppose we carried on, slow and clumsy as those times felt.” Raëlta added, and there was a touch of hope knowing that. It was silent and dark compared to the song they were both blessed to have heard, but their days did continue. They were not entirely incapacitated, the absence of the Shorai did not doom them. Yet, much as eyes had to adjust to sudden darkness, they would have to adjust to loss of sense they had formerly relied on.

They may not have the song, but they still had each other.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

She too could remember only vaguely what it was like to perceive things before having been joined with the Shoraes. She remembered vague images and hints of desires. She could see, but the memories were quiet. But then ultimately, when she carried out The Joining, she was made anew. Like all others who had done so before and all who came after, she had been changed. She heard the song of her people. She felt the light of the Shorai.

A smile slowly formed on Ánië's lips. The priestess never failed to rouse admiration in her, and she looked to Raëlta, sharing her smile with her, saying, "perhaps we shall find some blessing in this, then."

They came near to the great image of Astra, and there they were approached by several others. And in this too, there was an odd sensation. Though she knew each one who came to them seeking blessing and counsel, the distance that was perceived was palpable. Yet, it hindered her not, and Ánië laid her hands on them in kindness, and prayed with them for the guidance they all so mournfully sought. Then, after only a few short moments spent with each, they departed and knelt once more before their gods, praying quietly.

She smiled solemnly to Raëlta as they were once more left to their own, saying, "come," and began on her way up the grand stairs that lead up and around the image of Astra.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

“Perhaps we shall.” Raëlta replied, turning to Ánië with a smile of her own. The sentiment returned was true, as there was already a blessing to be found. As dark as their situation was, they still had one another to contend with it.

The two tread further on, approaching the towering depiction of Astra within the cathedral. Raëlta turned her head up to gaze at the image of the goddess. To stand before it always invoked a sense of awe within her, yet something further seemed to stir her soul. Footsteps could be heard, prompting Raëlta to turn around to meet the arrivals. As Ánië tended to them, Raëlta gave gestures silently with an arm to bless all who had arrived. Aside from the footsteps and shifting of cloth, all was silent and strangely serene.

The visitors had departed as quickly as they had arrived, moving to make prayer elsewhere. With her hands clasped before her, she turned to Ánië as she spoke again, beckoning the priestess to follow. Without hesitation, Raëlta did so and ascended up the stairs leading around the depiction they and others had just stood before.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

Quietly did they proceed, and once they'd ascended the stairs they came to a tall and wide corridor, and through it did they go. It was only a short distance through and they came to their most sacred place - the Shorai. They lingered there in the archway for a time as they looked up at the great crystal, standing tens of meters tall and encompassing a great span. And though there was still a strange cloudiness that dimmed the crystal's luminescence, the light within grew ever more vibrant with each passing day, and the darkness passed in kind.

Ánië's eyes studied it with a mix of worry and awe, and said, "I wonder how long the demon's touch shall linger, and if our song will return when it has passed," she began forward again, her eyes still upon the great crystal. It was, even in this diminished state, a sight to behold. And even now there was still a comforting warmth that came forth from it, and a low, gentle and nearly inaudible tone that rose and fell with the light which strove from within.

As they came near to it, they slowed to a halt. For a time she remained fixed upon the Shorai's majesty, but shortly, Ánië's eyes fell to the floor, and she said, "I am afraid, Raëlta. What if we never hear our song again? Will we ever be the same?"

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

“As do I. I hope it shall not linger much longer.” She replied, though she knew they needed more than simply hope. Ánië's next question gave Raëlta a trepid pause. She'd spent much time fretting over the question herself, and many of the answers she'd hypothesized were haunting to recount. To share such dread with such a close friend as Ánië was undesirable, but neither did she wish to lie to her. The quandary caused the priestess to choose her words carefully, seeking to deliver neither despair nor fiction.

“I do not know, Ánië. I can't deny that the thought is chilling. It is what makes us, us....” Raëlta began, before turning towards Ánië. “But even if the song is not, we will still be. We may be blind, but we will still be Sharyrdian.” She concluded, though the melancholy remained clear in her tone.

“Yet we cannot be without the song forever. As long as we go without, we must be ever determined to bring it's return. How, I know not. But we shall search, and we must hold faith. The power of the song cannot be gone forever. No, it is too great.” She added, slowly growing more ceartain as she spoke, as she had convinced herself it was so. Desperate for hope, Raëlta grasped at it firm. There had to be a way. Surely something so holy could not truly be dead.

She'd rather not imagine that it might.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

After listening to Raëlta speak with her head hung in sorrow, she lifted her eyes and smiled to the priestess, "you are as wise as you are faithful, my dear friend," she said as she stepped near. She placed a hand against the side of her arm with a reassuring and gentle squeeze, and said, "I believe what you say is true, and that no matter what comes, we will continue to be who we are."

---

* * *​

---

Several nights had passed, and each evening, High Priestess and High Councilor met there in the presence of the Shorai, and spoke of the things that were and could be, both good and ill. But in these quiet days they encouraged one another. They reminded one another that even if things were not as they once were, they could be remade anew. Though either of them would be remiss to say they would ever lose hope in the Shoraes' song returning. But wise as they were they remembered their patience, and remembered to appreciate all that they still had - as they had for so long now.

On a mezzanine overlooking the crystal's main floor, the pair sat cross legged across from one another with a number of candles round about them. For hours they lingered there like that, joined in a solemn prayer for guidance and courage. It had only been a short while ago when they finally closed their prayers and opened their eyes for the first time since they'd began. The candles burned low now. Incense was all but finished.

With a contented sigh, Ánië broke their enjoyed silence, saying, "it is a strange thing..." she started, "it occurred to me, that there are children alive now who have never seen Aeraesar like it used to be."

For many years after the war, many Aerai refrained from having children. But as the years went on, as they even could be said to have grown accustomed to their plight, this sentiment changed, and once again there were families, and youths. But it was bittersweet to one looking on as she began to realize as she dwelt on it.

Had she truly grown so pessimistic?

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta smiled at Ánië's reply, heartened that her words had found purchase and brought her some comfort for the moment. To her herself say it brought hope to herself as well. On her own in search for answer, she was free to toil without hope. In the company of another however, she'd felt it necessary to seek a silver lining to their plight. In doing so, Raëlta too had found some much needed hope.

* * *
​

She met with Ánië daily since then, sharing more thoughts and hopes for the situation and for their future. Raëlta was fortunate to have such a friend, and with her she felt more progress made towards their goal than she had managed on their own - in spirit, if not in effective practice. The catastrophe remained as dreadful as ever, but they would see it through. Raëlta so longed for that day to come.

Today saw them locked in a shared prayer, and again that she had another to pray with was a blessing in the darkness. They sat in silence for hours upon hours, before Ánië was the first to break it."it is a strange thing...it occurred to me, that there are children alive now who have never seen Aeraesar like it used to be."

Raëlta opened her eyes slowly, and turned her head from her solemn gaze at the ground to look at Ánië. It was a truth she spoke, and told of just how much time had passed since them. For those as old as they, it was easy to lose track of the years that passed by, were it not for those events by which it could be measured. Awareness was there, but realization only struck her upon hearing the words.

“That there are. Those who did not get to know it have had to grow up without it.” Raëlta repeated. They could only know from what they'd been told, and the priestess so wished they could have heard it firsthand. They still would, were she successful in that one effort that took priority over all.

“We must see that it returns. Within this lifetime, they ought see the glory that once was.” Raëlta replied. That she had only stories to tell, and not wonders to show was heartbreaking. Aeraesar was meant to be so much more than it presently was.

And now as ever, Raëlta yearned for it to be so.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

It was a reluctant hope, but hope all the same.

She rose from her place, and from there she seemed to drift to the handrail nearby upon which she pressed her palms against and leaned restfully. Another sigh escaped her as her eyes drew up and then descended down the height of the Shorai. Her breath felt warm in this place, and it soothed her.

As she lingered there, though she could not feel with clarity as she once could, she noticed that it seemed that they were alone. She glanced down and saw no one, and a quick look upon the mezzanines revealed the same. And then, just as her mind dwelt on this, a flicker of light caught her eye and her gaze was drawn to the Shorai once again.

And then came a deep, droning sound which made the air tremble. It started with a terribly low tone, and then grew until it suddenly became silent. Startled, Ánië took a step back from the railing.

"Did you-" hear that?

Her question was interrupted by another brilliant light showing forth from inside the Shorai. It coalesced into a singular point at what seemed to be the crystal's center, directly within their view. And then the sound returned, starting high this time and then quickly descending lower until inaudible. The sound's coming prompted the light within to disperse like noiseless lightning, ascending to the crystal's pinnacle and then raining down below.

And then, after a still and silent moment, its usual resonance and luminescence returned.

She remained there, astonishment plain on her face, and her feet felt unable to move. She felt her hands twitch, and then it was as though a painless shock ran through the entirety of her body. She gasped in surprise, and instinctively pressed her finger to her temple with a gentle wince.

... and then, still small and soft, like the gently rolling waters of a shoreline just out of sight, she could hear it. She could hear them.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

She rose from where she was seated, after a moment. The search for hope had grown ever harder the longer the song had been absent. Raëlta was relieved that she'd found the words for her friend. Morale among the Aeraesarians must remain if their order were to recover. No matter how difficult, Raëlta remained devoted to seeing it so, should recovery stand even a sliver of a chance. She had utterly devoted herself to the Shorai – the unexpected silence was a devastating change.

It was because of this hope that she could not believe herself when she sensed the song. So often, Raëlta had believed she'd heard something. At first, she was prone to abandon whatever actvity occupied her to listen in hope of confirming her wishes. But time and time again, her hopes had been proven wrong.

At first, she was convinced that the sensation was nothing more than another wishful hallucination. Though she stopped to listen and hope might remain – expectation was absent.

But it was real. It had returned.

“You heard- ” Raëlta could barely respond before a dazzling light robbed the attention of both, and they watched as it descended down before them. The weight of the sudden surprise nearly sent the priestess into shock. She remained still and silent as she saw the light enter the crystal. Her heart leapt for joy when she heard the song sing again.

There was no follow up to either questions, for their was no need. Raëlta too focused herself to see if it had truly returned.

And it was so.

“Ánië!” She exclaimed, and it was all she could say in her frantic excitement.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

For a moment, all she could do is stand in place with her eyes cast up to the great crystal.

They started as only a few at first, but as she stood there the voices became... closer. Soon, more began to speak.

She looked to Raëlta with a trembling smile, her movements stifled by the tension she now held in her body. She let out a shaky laugh, and as she looked to her friend she could feel her there, she could sense her thoughts - though they were difficult to discern - and the aura of her essence was once again visible to her, appearing as coloured light wreathing her figure.

It was all a bit incoherent and vague, but it grew in clarity with each moment. It was unmistakable. The Shoraes had returned.

---

For a time, all became quiet and still throughout all of Sharyrdaes. One by one, people stopped the things they were doing, and surrendered to the experience that began to overtake them. Many were so enraptured that they remained still for what likely seemed like hours, while others were far too delighted to remain in their place.

Ánië was one of those so affected by the song's return that she could hardly move from her place. She'd been brought to tears, and dropped gently to her knees with a broken and thankful prayer. She - like many of those in prominent positions - had an acute connection to the Shoraes. Having gone so long without its presence, its return had quickly turned from a rolling tide to a tidal wave. She'd been overwhelmed, and though she was hardly perturbed, it took her more than a few minutes to compose herself once again.

It must have been some while, for as she seemed to return to herself from what seemed like an out of body experience, she could hear the sound of voices ringing out through the Temple's halls. The choir had taken up its place, and their voices rose together in song as it once and always had.

Raëlta, her noiseless voice called out, and then she spoke audibly, "I... can hardly believe it."

She lifted her head, "we must speak with the Conclave."

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

She could sense Ánië. Not clearly, but there was no mistaking the force at play. No longer did her doubt linger, and once Raëlta realized that the miracle she bore witness to was undeniably true, she was speechless – which was just as well, for Raëlta would not need form any words. Mouth agape, she devoted every fibre of her being towards the blessed song she had been so woefully estranged from for so long.

How she had longed to hear it, to celebrate it once again. With the Shoraes returned, so had hope and purpose, both. For so long Raëlta wished she could do anything, but sat as powerless as any.

There was so much to do, but the priestess knew precisely where to start. She too knelt in prayer, joining Ánië in rejoicing the return of what was long lost. As they prayed, so too did the Shoraes strengthen, and it was an utterly euphoric experience.

O blessed be the hallowed song
That joins us all as one
Blessed be us whom hear You sing
Granting guidance and wisdom

For guiding grace,
For sacred space,
And every boon You grant

Our holy light,
That doth burn bright,
Ever shall we give thanks​

---

Raëlta had so much to do, and her mind raced over plans for ceremony and offering. The priestess was utterly euphoric about it all, and was so completely lost to wonder and awe that it took a moment to snap out of it.

Raëlta Ánië spoke first, through the Shoraes

I... can hardly believe it." She spoke next, aloud.

"we must speak with the Conclave."

“At once! We have so much to do. Oh, Ánië! I can hardly believe it, I...I...” Raelta began. But there simply words powerful enough to express her sentiment.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

In these moments, perhaps to an even greater degree than before, she felt the weight of responsibility.

Raëlta was right, there was a great deal to do.

She turned to the priestess and, in a way much like a sister would, embraced her.

"Raëlta," she said, quite hushed, "relax. Take your time..." she smiled, "meet us back here in a few hours."

---

In a way that had not been for what had seemed like an eternity, the Temple was bursting with life. It was as though - and likely was - all in Sharyrdaes were, at one time or another, arriving and giving thanks, taking part in choir or prayer, or simply lingering in the vestibules, corridors, or in the streets just outside. There was no call to prayer or agenda set in place, but all seemed inclined to take part regardless. Ánië, along with the other members of the Conclave, had chosen to take part in choir for a time before returning to the Shorai to meet with Raëlta. They sang for a time, and their presence there with the people helped strengthen the solidarity they once again felt so intimately. And so, they remained there in the main chapel for quite a while before it was time for them to go. From there, they left to meet with the High Priestess.

And those members of the Conclave, though their number was to be twenty-four, had been reduced since the great war, and so in all they were fifteen.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

None needed to be beckoned forth, not even though the Shoraes that newly sang again. Following moments had seen commotion erupt among their order. Even when Raëlta was within the stone walls the temple, the joyous cried could be heard in continuance beyond them.

It took such willpower not to rush the process of preparation. Raëlta donned her holy vestments with care and patience, virtues that were a struggle to hold onto in this time of joy. How she wanted nothing more than to burst outside and join the growing chorus of celebration! But hers was a special role, and this occasion among the most holy. Despite her eager excitement, she didn’t dare to rush. She could not.

Incense was burned, and prayers uttered to bless a small vial of oil sitting upon the altar before her. Once complete, Raëlta took the sanctified oil and anointed her robes with it, sprinkling the contents on one shoulder and then another while uttering new prayers professing the glory of the Shoraes.

The next step involved clipping the leaves from a sacred plant kept near. Winding ferns bore rows of long, round leaves, and six were removed though a slow process marked with prayer for each green gift the High Priestess claimed. One by one, each were tucked into her circlet, with three on each side of her head.

Only then did Raëlta dare to open a gilded and ornate box, a layer of dust resting atop it. She could count upon a single hand the number of times she had donned the great sacred mantle that laid within. Trimmed with golden thread, it bore ornate embroidery of holy imagery and symbols that textured the white cloth all over. It was only for the most holy of occasions, of which this was sure one if there ever was.

Only now, was she ready.

Descending from the upstairs quarters where she’d been, she spotted Ánië and others already waiting.

“A most holy and joyous occasion!” Raëlta cheerfully announced, descending the stairs in her full priestly regalia.

Everything finally seemed like it would be alright after all.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

"Indeed," came a reply from several of the councilors, their voices laced with joy.

Ánië looked up to Raëlta as she approached, and she could not help but admire the gravity she had bestowed upon these moments. The regalia the High Priestess had adorned was of the Order's most precious, reserved for only those most holy of times. If there were ever such a time, all were certainly in agreeance that this would qualify.

"And none better suited to guide us through such a time as you, Priestess," Ánië declared, her admiration plain on her features and in her thoughts.

As they gathered together, many of the councilors approached and spoke with Raëlta, for the moment exchanging little more the pleasantries and blessings. Around them, many people came and went, going to and from the Shorai where they sought to lay their hand upon it and give thanksgiving. After a time, they too went there and placed themselves round about the great crystal. As the appointed leadership of their Order, it was only appropriate that they all join in prayer under the High Priestess in this time, to bring their minds into alignment once again as it had been before, and decide how best to lead their people into this new time.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta beamed with a bright smile that all surely hadn't seen in centuries. For as morose and dejected as she had been during the dark times, she was exuberant to witness it's long awaited end. Her expression told all, and to see theirs was a most savoured reward for her efforts.

Only Ánië's comment broke her trance-like observation of the scene around her, and Raëlta turned to meet her with the same jubilant expression. The priestess opened her mouth to speak, but paused without a sound. In part, because she could not find the words, and in part, because so much sentiment came to mind that she knew not where to even begin. After a moment to gather herself, she provided her response:

“Your words mean more to me than I could ever convey. I could not be blessed with a better congregation, or a better friend. It is a true privilege to lead.” Raëlta replied, beaming brightly at the words of affirmation. To be a spiritual leader was beyond a position, it was everything to her. And on this joyous day, she had regained what was most dear. Not since she had been first ordained had she been so overwhelmed with emotion.

For so long, she had reaffirmed to all that this day would come, and today was the day she had so proclaimed!

Raëlta met with many, laying blessings upon one after the other. With so many to tend to, she could only spare a moment upon each, but the high priestess made sure that none were forgotten and overlooked, for each and every one of them was a precious member of her reformed flock.

Once it was done, she took her place before all and reached deep into the Shoraes along with them. Joined by the unifying voice that had been absent for far too long, she lead them in a prayer of tearful gratitude.

It took another moment to collect herself.

After, planning for the great rebuilding did commence.

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

It was wonderous. All the voices, hearts and minds all entwined and once again finding harmony in what to the minds of the untrained, would be utter chaos. Just as the Shorai's light grew and waned with the rhythm of one's beating heart, so did the collective find its unified rhythm. As Raëlta began to lead them, each one of them there round about the great crystal stretched out their arms toward one another with the palms lifted up, and too did they lift their faces with closed eyes. And together, they prayed. And over the course of this prayer, in a way that had not been since the days of the ancients, all of the Aerai who dwelt there in Sharyrdaes ceased their doings, and joined in this prayer - wherever they were.

And together their voices diminished, and there was a moment of joyful silence amongst them all in the midst of one another in spirit and soul.

Ánië's eyes slowly opened, and her hands fell to her sides. She felt tired, but not in body or mind. But in this exhaustion there came a great comfort. And it was this comfort that stayed the memory of the lasting dark cast upon their land, and the many terrors that dwelt in it. In these moments, there was only room to rejoice, for there may be no other time given to them. But, so long as they were together, as the many who are one, as it should be, then whatever end came of the plights they contended with would be met.

They drew closer together now, and Ánië was the first to speak, saying, "Priestess," she bowed her head, "I've not heard such inspiring prayer, save from our most storied leaders from long ago."

She turned to the other councilors present, "and now we stand, with our light rekindled, the favour of the gods plainly upon us," she gestured to the Shorai, the light within it now vibrant, without the haze that had marred it prior, "by the Patriarch we shall not waste these blessings. We must see our Swords sharpened, and our Shields hardened. No longer shall we cower behind these walls, no longer will Sharyrdaes suffer for us. Once again we shall guard her, as it had once and always been."

There was a stirring then, and the hearts of those present became strengthened. She was right. It was time for them to reclaim not just this, but all that had been tainted by the dark.

---

For days did the excitement reign. The Temple was scarcely without the sound of joyful song and earnest prayer. With Aerai being creatures of much less sleep than most mortals, Ánië remained present for the entirety while most others came and went. It was only after the excitement had greatly subsided that she finally departed from there, but she did not seek rest. Not yet.

In the past days, the Shoraes had become as though it had never left, and she felt comfortable in feeling for herself without impacting the others. However, to those most discerning, they could likely feel her uncertainty. So she took herself to those highest places in Sharyrdaes, where on a balcony high above she looked down, and beheld the vastness of her home, and beyond into Salquenor Minassë - the great meadow that lay before the city, and was nearly as storied as the Temple itself. Though in these days it was shrouded in darkness and fog, in brighter times even at night one could see the great river in the distance, and the forest beyond.

Now she could barely see past the city's walls.

And after a time of standing there in quiet contemplation as she looked over all that she felt so responsible for, her eyes fell, and she mourned.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

It was one matter to reach a position where she was honoured to be trusted as a priestess of the Shoraes, she had never imagined that they could ever be without. Today, Raëlta rejoiced not only that the song had come back to them, but that the darkness had vanished. The return of the sacred song was an overwhelming experience, even more so than when Raëlta had first been ordained. Worry had been a burden she weighted herself with, and the return of the song seemed so uncertain until this day.

When the sound stopped and all was silent once more, the priestess took a peaceful pause. It was the first joining they had all undertaken in years, and it took her priestly discipline to retain her composure. As much as she wanted to sing and display exuberant excitement, Raëlta kept her expression demure and her stance solemn. Having to hide joy was a much easier experience than the need to hide sorrow had been.

The air remained still and silent, until Ánië broke it with her kind words. "Priestess, I've not heard such inspiring prayer, save from our most storied leaders from long ago." She spoke, and hearing it filled Raëlta with joy. Her stoic expression quickly broke into a bright smile, as even she could not contain the joy she had felt in that moment.

“Never have I been so overjoyed to speak them.” Raëlta replied, working to recover her expression. “Thank you.” She added, and turned with all to hear Ánië speak, while the priestess still wore a muted smile she couldn't quite shake. Her words were as inspiring as they ever were, speaking of a return back to the way things once were. Of the restoration of their order that had been long awaited in the hearts of all, and promised eventuality that Raëlta had sworn would one day come. On this day, all that she spoke of had shown itself true, and Ánië galvanized them tp rebuild further and restore all else they had lost.

The sun and moons rose and fall, while the great celebration continued though day and night. Raëlta had no plans to call it to an end. Not only were they elves with much less need for sleep than was typical, they had long been without a cause for such revelry. So long as the others had the energy to rejoice, she’d not put an end to any of it. Though she had worn her holiest vestments, this was far from a formal affair. A celebration beyond any others, it that was badly needed by the Aerai and would continue until they had grown too tired to carry on.

Through it all, Raëlta was observant over the state of those in attendance. Though they had their moment to celebrate, it did not escape her that all had suffered much through the darkness. This was not just a time to celebrate, but to heal and recover. Now connected through the song, she could sense the state of them in a manner that she’d not been able for years. She could sense the joy that carried such overpowering strength, yet she could sense more beyond that. Concern and fret tinged the joining song, and Raëlta could not discern from whence it came. It bubbled up now and then, stirring her for a moment and then vanishing before she could find its source.

Once Ánië had vanished, Raëlta continued to conduct the ceremony for quite some time before the tinge of concern returned to mind, and the priestess had to not its absence over past hours. Hopeful that one of her flock had set aside their worry, she took it upon herself to visit with all in attendance, one by one. But she could not find that same sense she had witnessed earlier. Nor could she find Ánië.

Raëlta quietly slipped out unnoticed from the temple for the first time in days. Having checked upon all within, her concerns pushed her to take a look at those who were beyond it. As the priestess strode the hallowed halls leading from the temple, that same sense of fret struck her again.

She ascended a staircase, and still it grew stronger until she knew to whom it belonged. Ánië too, would know of Raëlta’s approached, connected again as the two and all were.

“Ánië. I sensed something amiss.” The priestess called out as she approached her friend. Ánië’s concern was clear, the priestess could sense her mourning. The cause of it however, was not, prompting Raëlta to ask. She’d not ask if Ánië was alright – the restored Shoraes made such an inquiry redundant. Rather, Raëlta offered her ear.

“Forgive me if I intrude…but may I hear it?”

Ánië Táralóm

 

[Ánië Táralóm]

She needn't have heard the footsteps. She didn't need to see. She felt Raëlta's presence seeking her, long before perhaps even the priestess had realized who she sought. Having removed herself from the immediate surround of so many minds, she could feel those who were reaching a little further. Ever the tender shepherd, it was only a matter of time before she came searching.

Raëlta and her had been close for many long years now. Each of them had stations of great prominence and importance, and demand. Even in a society as interconnected as theirs, there would always be the need for conscious leadership and conscious delegation, lest the subconscious take too much hold. And in their high places, often did their tasks overlap. Often did they work hand in hand with one another. If Ánië were to be the spear, then Raëlta would be its righteous aim. And more than ever through these darker days, she felt more with her than the bonds of their righteous sisterhood as Aerai - she felt friendship.

The sorrow on her visage faded as she lifted her chin and turned her eyes to see the priestess as she called, and a sleepy smile found her lips, "it was only a matter of time."

As Raëlta drew nearer, Ánië stepped a little to the side and gestured for her to stand near.

“Forgive me if I intrude…but may I hear it?”
​

Her eyes cast down and she almost let a small laugh escape her, "Raëlta, I..." her voice faltered, and she bit her lip, then said, "there's something I haven't told you... something I haven't told anyone..." she turned away and rested her palms on the railing, "I... know what happened to us."

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​