Private Tales The Many, Who are One

[Atandil]

There weren't many his age. Only a handful. He was told that it wasn't always this way, that once the Aerai were more numerous. He was also told that, once, the skies above their lands weren't always covered by rolling black clouds, that their forests and valleys weren't always filled with mist and fog and monsters. He was told that once, they had lived in the light. And though he was hardly one to argue with history, in fact he enjoyed learning about his peoples' past, but he found it so hard to imagine his home so differently.

All he'd ever known was the darkness.

But as he stood out on the balcony from his dwelling there in the temple, he wondered what it might be like the remember things he himself did not experience. He wondered what it would be like.

---

He'd left from his chambers early, leaving several hours before it was time for the days training to commence. He took this time to go to the Temple's grand chapel, and find his place at the feet of Astra's image, where he knelt. And for a time he sat quietly there, not in prayer but thought alone. He reflected on the things he had learned in the days prior, and the weeks, months and years, since the very earliest memories. All of it leading to this new day, this new challenge, this new step forward toward his first and foremost celebrated achievement - to join the collective.

He'd been there for perhaps a bit longer than he had realized, because before he knew it he could hear the encroaching footsteps of someone most familiar. It was Istoneth Nolmo - the mentor and teacher of not just him, but many - who he turned to greet as she drew near, and saw that it was indeed her. He moved to stand, and she gestured kindly against it, and instead knelt there not far from him with her hands joined together in her lap, and her back as straight as an arrow.

She studied him for a moment, and then said, "you seem troubled, my child."

"No, Istoneth, not exactly..."

"The time draws near for you to undergo the ritual."

Indeed it was, a ritual that was so grueling and painful to experience that it had proven to be fatal in times past. And, though for over a millennia now no one has perished during the act, it was said that undergoing this ritual was one of the things that made Aerai such formidable warriors - nearly no other pain could compare. He could hardly blame her for suspecting such reservations in him, but this was not truly what he feared. Not the pain.

He just hoped that he could bear it.

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

By now, Raëlta had overseen many initiations. An outsider might find it a bit odd that one of temperament as warm as hers would officiate such a gruelling ritual, but the agony was considered another form of care. To spare the suffering would leave the new soul unprepared for the pain that their potential enemies might inflict. Sheltering them from it would leave them weak and vulnerable in a world that gave no quarter unto them. Far better to see them strong enough to survive the trials beyond. Here within the temple saw these initiates surrounded by those who wished to see them endure and complete the ordeal. Those who might take up swords against them would extend no such mercy.

Preparations always took up a fair amount of time, as each initiation required much to be done. Offerings to both Metisa and Nykios had been burnt in sacred clay bowls as a request to the gods for their favour towards the young man. For Nykios was the god of warriors, and Metisa the goddess of civilization. Neither of those things could be forged without pain, ache and effort.

Flickering light from the surrounding candles bathed the altar in a shifting warm glow, reflecting off the gilded trim of Raëlta's robes as she walked around the chamber, conducting one final check to ensure everything was in order. Once she was satisfied it was so, the priestess took a moment to kneel in quiet meditation.

With a tranquil mind and the ritual ready, Raëlta then stood, and made her regal way out from the chamber and into the main chapel.

The echo of footsteps over stone foretold the priestess' arrival. Soon she was before Istoneth and Antandil, whom were both kneeling before the great idol of the goddess Astra.

“Atandil? The ceremony is prepared for you. Take what time you need to prepare for yourself, and please do not rush. I shall be ready when you are.” Raëlta affirmed with a solemn nod.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

He lingered in silence on the Istoneth's words - the time draws near. Even after all these years of preparation for this very moment, he was not so bold as to say he was ready. He'd heard far too many times from those who had come before him that one was never truly ready.

The sound of the priestess' encroaching footsteps caused his heart to quicken as anticipation rose in him. He strengthened himself, controlling his breath. Still as she drew closer, his anxiety also grew. When she spoke, he'd been so engrossed in the trifling of his emotions that she nearly startled him. His eyes shot up, his chin lifting swiftly, but he hid the surprise in his eyes as firmly as he could. No doubt it was a paltry attempt in the face of one so keen as the priestess.

"Y-yes," he stuttered, shattering any facade he'd managed to succeed with. With a quiet sigh his eyes fell, and he questioned then if he was at all ready to face this. Doubt clouded his mind, removing from his mind the vision of rising to his feet to face this great change. Instead he remained in place, troubled at the thought of moving.

But he had chosen this, this is what he wanted.

After a seemingly unending moment in time, he stood. He lifted his eyes again and nodded to the priestess. It was time.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

“Take what time you need, and rise when you are ready.” Raëlta returned a solemn nod, and spoke simply in response. She then turned and made her way back, leaving Atandil to himself for the moment he needed. Raëlta remained nearby but out of sight as she awaited the signal to reapproach.

The ritual ahead was a gruelling one, calling for steeled nerves and a readied mind. It would be cruel to move ahead if he had them not, and Raëlta didn't dare rush the process. Proceeding was inevitable, Whether in minutes or days, Atandil would be prepared and his initiation would commence.

It turned out to be the former. It often was.

As Atandil rose to his feet, the cadence of footsteps on the stone floor returned.

“Follow me, and I shall guide you.” Raëlta spoke once she was near. Her return was but part of the ceremony. Atandil needed no escort, but the presence of clergy was an important comfort she'd not deny. He'd be far from alone in this, as many were on hand to participate in and aid in the process. This was a cornerstone in Atandil's life, a highly important rite of passage. He'd have the help and hopes of many to see him through it.

Raëlta continued through the hallowed halls to the prepared chamber that awaited him, leading the way for him.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

It wasn't exactly that he was nervous, but he certainly felt something grow within him with each step forward. He knew full well what it was he moved ever closer to, but he was not afraid. Though it would be a trial unlike anything else, this was something that all his people experienced and came through stronger than he could truly imagine.

As he looked to Raëlta before him, he was reminded of and admired the devotion she so readily embodied. She was resilient and unshaken in the face of what seemed like anything, and she was a very present light in the times of dark. She radiated the faith of their gods and their people. His thoughts turned to the Istoneth: Nolmo, who's footsteps he could hear following just comfortably behind. She was of many centuries and much wisdom, and she had taught and guided him since his earliest days, as she had for so many. She had always been a far cooler presence than most, but she had been as faithful a mentor as he could have ever hoped. And he knew it was in the solidarity of the collective they drew so much strength - that it was indeed their own merits, but they were afforded so much more within the collective.

And he knew he wanted to be a part of it, there was nothing that would keep him from it, not even fear.

As they continued on down the vast halls of the temple, he decided to give the things around him one final look. The murals, the pillars, the polished floor beneath him, he wondered if it would be at all different after.

Deep into the temple now, they came near to one of many great archways. As Atandil beheld the grand doors there, Nolmo came to stand alongside him for a moment, and then she moved forward with a sagely and respectful nod to Raëlta. Nolmo had one final part to play in this act of Atandil's story.

"Within," she began, "I have witnessed the joining of so many Aerai," she stepped forward toward the door, placing her hand upon it, "the likes of Erën, Te'leis, and the likes of Phyrra, even Ánië, and even the priestess Raëlta," making no movement at all, the doors slowly began to swing open, "and as I witnessed them become as one with the Shoraes I shall witness you as well."

In that moment, of all moments, uncertainty washed over him. As the doors began to part, he did indeed feel... fear. He looked to the Priestess Raëlta, steeling himself as much as he could in preparation for what came next.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta could sense Atandil's apprehension. It was expected, common to most all who had embarked upon the gruelling ritual. Hardship was certain, but the reward awaiting him would be more than worth the pain ahead. He surely knew this well, for he'd not be here otherwise.

Raëlta looked to Nolmo respectfully but shared not a word with the ceremony already underway. For now, all speech and action was focused on Atandil and the trials he'd face. The short distance the trio travelled served as the final moment he could steel himself for what was to come, and the decorations surrounding them became more ornate the further they tread. Turning from the main passage led them through a hall with carvings etched into the walls, depicting ancestral tales and legends of their history.

The hall led into a spacious chamber, surrounded by six walls of bright white marble that stretched up as far as the room was wide. The roof that sat upon it was decorated with six murals depicting each of the Celestial deities. in the centre and surrounded by the murals lay a dome that bore a pattern gilded in gold. Strange and surreal patterns wove over it, inspired by visions dreamt in holy trance. The walls themselves were not quite flat, but offset and curved in just enough to enhance the sound carried within the chamber, as Sharyrdian architects had learned to do long ago.

The chamber itself was spacious, with many awaiting them in attendance. Three priests of high rank and gilded robes were flanked by eight others, all who stood in a row beneath the mural of Astra. Behind them, lined a dozen across and two rows deep behind the priests were wizards to weave magic in assistance, along with seers and oracles for the same purpose. All stood quietly, and the sound of three pairs of footsteps was all that could be heard as Raëlta made her way into the room with them.

She guided Atandil to the centre, letting him take his place to kneel with all around him keeping still. Raëlta gave no word, but instead looked to the rest with a gesture that the initial rites were to commence. Soon, a symphony of harmonic voices filled the spacious chamber of stone, bouning off the walls in a carefully constructed echo that added to the grandiosity of the song. In slow tempo, all shifted tones in the solemn opening hymn, with Raëlta slowly and carefully making her way to the forefront of all helping to officiate.

The song continued for several minutes, before all fell silent in the same unison they had sang. Raëlta recited a prayer to lead the ceremony, first to the gods, and then to the Shoraes itself. There were several prayers to speak, and throughout the others would continue as Atantdil would take his first trip to where the visions of the first dream would take him.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

Entering into the chamber, he was awestruck. His eyes fell upon the floor, so beautifully made and seemingly untouched by ages untold. He followed the tall walls up to the ceiling above, and each image therein captivated him even more deeply than those he had looked upon with reverence each day. These depictions were different, displays of each one in the wholeness of their majesty - or at least, one's greatest interpretation of this. It was written, Astra in her fullness was blinding. Only those who were perfect could look upon her if she did not dim her brilliance.

Then, after realizing how lost in these images he'd become, his eyes came to dwell on those present, and he was suddenly humbled by the vast number who had come to bear witness and yea, even participate in what was to come. At first he'd forgotten that it was not only Raëlta and Nolmo who would be there with him in this, and though this was a comforting thought, it was also nerve-wracking. If he were to fail in this with so much support at his side, how would they look upon him? But then... the results of failure lead to only one thing.

With a confident breath, feigned and forced but determined all the same, he moved forward toward the center of the room. And there he knelt. And as the voices rose up in song around him, his voice joined with them. It was only when Priestess Raëlta began in prayer that he fell silent, and he felt it. It was not on his own whim, he had not thought it, but as he knew it would with the song the feeling fell over him. With his eyes closed, his breath entered in with a sudden, foreign coolness. It filled and refreshed his lungs, and for what seemed like several minutes he breathed this breath.

At some point, Raëlta's voice had faded away. And as he knelt there, he began to feel that though he was fixed in one place, he was falling and spinning and turning, both slowly and quickly, but chaotically and orderly.

With a calm and yet sharp breath in, his eyes became open, and there he found himself kneeling in the center of the chamber. There was no one else present, and a single light beamed in from some unknown source and cast itself directly upon him. And odd calm overtook him as he breathed in another breath, and slowly he rose to his feet. Confusion came over him, but still he remained resilient and aware of the experience - he had trained for this for many years, the lucid experiences of the Shoraes.

Suddenly, and not of his own accord and without any perceived movement, he was turned in place and now faced the hallway they had entered in from. Only, there was a vast darkness in this hallway, and far away in the darkness, yet uncomfortably close, was Raëlta. Or... Nolmo. Their image seemed to shift between one or the other, changing depending on if he was looking directly upon... whoever it was, and when. He rubbed his eyes, and the figure disappeared, and now either of them stood on one side of him or the other, but as he turned to one, the other took their place.

And then suddenly, he found himself where he had first seen them, and now he perceived that they stood at the center of the chamber, standing side by side with their backs to him.

Frustration began to wash over him, and his confusion began to mount.

"What is this? What are you showing me!?"
​

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

"What is this? What are you showing me!?"

“The vision is not ours.” Spoke the eldest of the seers, in a gravelly voice.

“All that you’ve thus far seen is what you show to yourself.” Raëlta added, in explanation. The induced trance was no hallucination. The collective had not placed any idea or thought in his mind, but rather, the ceremony existed to remove the barriers that constrained perception. While she and all present were there to provide guidance, they were not in attendance to provide direction. Atandil’s subconscious was sole author of what he witnessed. This subtle detachment from the solid ground of reality marked the beginning of his journey, bound to continue in what direction his mind took.

“You tell me, my child, what to make of these visions unveiled.” Raëlta continued, carefully measuring what guidance she gave. Though the dream was his, Raëlta was able to witness it through the blessing of the Shoraes. She, along with the others, could see his vantage point shift from one place to the next within the holy halls of the temple etched into his mind. All were watching and aware while remaining cautious and silent. It was up to them to allow Atandil freedom. The initiation required it, and she could not constrain where his mind might take him by placing ideas before him.

The room expanded outward, with the positions of people shifting along with it, yet not the proportions. The already spacious chamber grew even more massive than before. Space between people and objects within faded darker and darker until only they could be seen, illuminated by an unseen light as specks of bright colour dotting the darkness.

Letting Atandil interpret his surroundings, Raëlta would stay silent for a moment before her voice spoke again.

“Tell me: what do you see here?” She inquired. She had witnessed the transition, but the vision itself was of little concern.

Meaning was the topic of interest.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

He watched as the environment around him stretched out in a way he could not explain. It grew larger, yet it did not, it grew more distant, and yet remained the same. The people around him too, though they remained in place they traveled further and further away from him.

As the darkness grew around him, he knew it to not be of fear of malevolence. It did not come with the cold as the cruel dark did. It was simply the space between, filled with nothing other than distance, and yet in it, everything was as close as the air in his very lungs. People became as lights in the vast dark, and as this vision took shape he looked upon himself to see that he too was no longer of flesh and blood in his eyes, but of light. He perceived no arms or legs to him, and he could not truly say that he looked around as one did with the swiveling of their head and the orbiting of their eyes.

But there was no fear in him. Only contentment.

From him, tendrils of light, listless and wayward, passively floated about the light that was his own form. But from the others who were now distant from him - he saw something else. These appendages of light did not flutter aimlessly around those other lights, these all stretched out and twined together in seamless unity over distances near and far.

Before him then, as he looked upon them, all of what was around him suddenly and gently folded upward, nearly upon itself, and around him he saw everything as though he looked down upon it from above. He saw great lattices of light stretched out in both neat and chaotic arrangements, yet all moved in harmony.

And further, he perceived an end to this harmony. A dark vastness beyond.

A blink of his eyes then, or a blink of his sight. The folding had undone itself back into the vast expanse stretched out around him.

A deep breath.

"I see... what is," he said, his voice hushed.

He moved forward, his direction uncertain, but chosen in faith, "I see that which gathers and guides, but I see... more...."

In the distance that he moved toward, unseen before this moment, like then sun's coming just still hidden over the horizon was a great light rising up into the dark. But it fled from him, or was so distant as to appear to be fleeing.

---

As the ritual took place around her, Nolmo watched on in silence. It was not her place to participate in any capacity other than to be present. Such was not her role - she was to be there in the time before, and the time after, but these steps were his to take alone, as it had been for them all. While others prayed, chanted, recited their mantras and employed their holy magics, she stood idly by - witness to it all.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta’s mind peered into the dream along with the rest, observing all. The dream was Atandil’s to have–a perception of his surroundings shaped by his subconscious in ways unknown. It could be seen that Atandil’s perception of himself had taken a substantial change, too. His limbs were no longer viewed as physical, but as surreal strings of light that shone among the black backdrop that the temple chamber had become.

What he saw could be sensed, and Raëlta peered deeper into the dream through intense concentration. She could see that space had shifted into a wide expanse that grew less and less recognizable. It was only because she had tracked the contorting visions from their beginnings that she could identify the new shapes that the people and objects had taken. What was once seenw was now scattered, joined by bands of light to form structure in the darkness. This, the high priestess took to be a good sign that the visions were progressing in a suitable direction.

Yet no two visions were the same, and all were so different as to be essentially incomparable with one another. Meaning had to be subjectively inferred, based both upon the content and the dreamer. Raëlta held plenty of experience in this regard, and inferred the formation of structure from those he was familiar with as a symbolic representation of the world that raised him.

It was not certain. Nothing was absolute in interpretation, and hers was but a guess–albeit an educated one.

"I see... what is. I see that which gathers and guides, but I see... more...." Spoke Atandil, his voice breaking the silence. Raëlta paused. She had her own thoughts, but was careful in sharing only what had been selected. She could make no direct interpretation or implication, for that would rob him of agency and invalidate the ceremony. She could guide him thought the process, but ultimately, he needed to be able to find his own way.

So far, he had been accomplishing that well.

“Good, for that means you are beginning to see beyond.” Raëlta spoke. Reassurance that he was on the right path was the suitable amount of guidance to provide.

“Tell me what you make of it all. You must interpret. You must see.”

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

As he moved through the vastness toward the distant light, he began to notice his perception. The lights he had seen before, each one tethered, moved about him now at varying distances both high and low, near and far, no longer laid out flat against what he would have once said was the ground. Now this ground was no longer present.

He stopped, and looked behind him. There, he saw a single tether of light binding him to the place he had last been. Then, once he'd continued, he stopped and looked back again, and saw again another coalesced light to which he was tethered. From where he lingered, he turned his attention again, and looked ahead. And before him, spanning wide and high above, a singular great light. And from this light he felt...

He could not describe what he felt. He could not truly comprehend the magnitude of it, not at first.

But as he lingered on these thoughts, he finally replied, and said, that is it, isn't it...

It looked to him as though it were a great archway, standing many miles high, and in it was a great, crystalline gate, blazing with bolts of light and fire as white as snow. And there he stood, dead center before it, tiny and insignificant in the face of it.

---

There in the chamber, whilst the minds of them was lingering elsewhere, power surged throughout. Arcs flashed from pillars that stood around the center, and each one who was participant was enveloped in an otherworldly glow around their forms. And at the center, Atandil would not consciously know, but his position had changed. He laid now, instead of knelt, on his back with his arms at his sides. It was when his body had come to begin levitating, lifted within the fields of great amounts of magical energy generated from the others as well as himself, that Nolmo preformed a singular act.

She lifted one arm up from its position crossed against her chest, and snapped her fingers.

From a pedestal that stood near by, a blue, crystalline orb lifted from its place, and slowly began to move nearer to Atandil. After a few moments, it came to hang just above Atandil, a meter or so higher than he, and in it a light began to grow.

---

Atandil reached out to the great gateway that stood now before him, careful in his reach, confident in his thoughts and in his strength. This is the Shoraes...

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta observed as Atandil’s vision continued to take form, the scene around him shifting. The priestess remained silent, with her attention on the changing dreamscape as the collection of lights and glowing tethers joining them moved around.

He seemed unsure what to make of it, and Raëlta left him to interpret and watch the ever-changing dream. Though she could see the Shoraes overhead, the guidance she could provide was limited. Atandil had to see and find it for himself. For a moment, Raëlta worried that he might not in due time, yet could make neither announcement nor guidance. To her relief, he soon did notice, and he craned his head up towards it.

He saw it, yes. But did he recognize it for what it was?

that is it, isn't it... Atandil said, and Raëlta was relieved and joyed to hear it. She gave no reply, leaving him to gaze up in wonder at the Shoraes. Raëlta could remember when she had first seen it, and it was as overwhelming for her as it clearly was for him. Keeping silent, she left him to his wonder. To bear witness to something so holy was to be utterly awestruck, and the contemplation that followed an essential part of the joining.

---

Within the chamber, Raëlta had her eyes closed, focused on Atandil's consciousness and the dream it was weaving. She was almost entirely in a trance, engrossed in his vision while hanging on to a thread of consciousness with an expert grasp she'd had centuries to perfect. Just barely aware of the others, she did sense the Shoraes descending. The rest took a much more active part in conducting the ongoing ceremony.

From where she was, she was aware of the Shoraes in both worlds.

This is the Shoraes... Atandil spoke in affirmation.

“Yes, Atandil. This is the Shoraes.” She replied, her voice carrying a harmonic echo as it called out to him.

To focus upon it directly could dazzle one blind, akin to staring at the sun. Atandil had learned of the Shoraes, but to focus upon it required much experience, training, and willpower. Those without could quickly lose themselves to it, and part of Raëlta's purpose was to see that were not so.

“And the source of the holy song. But remember, do not focus directly on it. Experience it, have it in the perhihery of your senses. Dive not too deep.”

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

"...Dive not too deep.”
​

She spoke as prudent a warning as one could have ever spoken then, but it was in this moment as it had been so many times before - it proved not enough.

He reached to it, a trembling in his touch.

And then suddenly, a tether of light snapped around his wrist - yes his wrist. And then another, coiling up his arm.

Shock. Struggle. A cry - a silent cry. No noise came from him.

And then everything around him, even him, were as shattered glass.

---

His eyes opened then.

Soft, green grass grew tall all around him, dancing in some gentle, unfelt breeze.

Blackness abounded in the distance around him, and above, but there in the place he stood and all around him was somehow alight. He looked one way, and then the other, and felt a coolness grip him.

"This is not the Shoraes..."

---

Kiros Rahnel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta watched on, at first with mirth and then concern as his hand rose up towards the floating Shoraes above him. This was precisely what she had explicitly warned not to do!

“Atandil!” She called out. With former concerns foregone, Raëlta sought to save him from his fate, but she'd not the time to weave her magic. He did not touch the Shoraes – the Shoraes touched him. Raëlta's final vision of the scene was a blinding holy light.

---

All present could sense the disturbance in the Shoraes, and several were already moving towards Raëlta with concern as it happened. Lost in her trance, she was both unaware of the outside world and vulnerable to any disaster that might occur in Atandil's world

“Raëlta!” Priest Tharael called out, catching her by the shoulders to ease her tumble onto the hard stone floor. Even before she could open her eyes, all could feel relief. That they could see her proved her body was present. That they could sense her meant her mind was too.

“He reached for it...” Spoke Raëlta, slowly rising to her feet with the aid of the others. She'd managed to break her trance in time, but barely. That brief glimpse too long caused her head to throb and her vision of the world to spin.

“Is he alright?” Asked an oracle.

“I do not know...” She replied, turning to look at Atandil.

He would be on his own for the moments it took for Raëlta to gather herself and re-enter the trance.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

At the center of the chamber, arcs of light coalesced around the crystal orb of the Shorai, reaching out then in many directions and then returning to a singular point high above before raining down like shimmering glass all in the midst of the center. Atandil's body was, as it hung there, encased in light and difficult to discern, but clearly present and whole all the same.

There was some concern evident on the Istoneth's face, but not enough to warrant her to interfere. Nolmo remained in her place as an observer and witness, and though she shared with Raëlta the worry in her eye, her reluctance to speak on it was a good thing.

---

Where he was, moments could seem like hours.

And truly, at some point, he was not sure when, he became uncertain of how long he had lingered in one place. He was unsure of what he had even been thinking, if he had been thinking. He didn't quite remember. But still, around him, the grass remained, the light remained, the dark remained. Everything was as it had been. Nothing had changed.

He whirled around one way.

"Hello?"

For what seemed like an age it remained quiet.

Hello? A voice replied... distantly... then again... slower Hheelllloo?

Then again. And the third time, his perception seemed to stretch out into one point, everything became and elongated blur, and then...

Hello? His perception snapped back into place, almost jarring, almost... slapping him, as it were. He shook his head, realizing it was his own voice that had called to him, echoing back in some misshapen way.

He felt a single drop on his cheek from above, but as he wiped it from his cheek he felt nothing. He turned his head up, and saw nothing but blackness except for a distant shimmering light, high above. He frowned as his gaze fell again, and he was shocked to see a figure standing before him. They of blackness and grey, robed in shadow, and from them he felt a chill.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Her head was still reeling from the reaction. She'd been observing from a vantage point far closer than the rest, with her mind's eye wide open and vulnerable to the eruption Atandil had caused.

“I'll need a moment...” Raëlta replied, with a hand still rubbing her temple. She took careful breaths to help naturally rejuvenate herself as best as she could. The ache from the experience had been incapacitating, but not injurious. She could return to the vision that very moment if she wanted to, but in her state she'd be of limited use. She'd be nothing more than an injured lamb should she return to any threat. Such an occuance was unlikely, but still possible.

“Silverleaf tincture?” Priestess Sylrae suggested, already crushing several dried leaves between her thumb and forefinger into a small clay vessel. Another priest stepped out out from the vessel with a cup full of water, seeking a source of fire that wasn't holy to heat it. The tincture was a long known remedy to the Sharyrdians, simple but effective in it's properties. It was notable among the priesthood for speeding recovery, without inhibiting the mental focus of the imbiber. The latter part was important, as Raëlta required focus to continue her guidance. Most other remedies alleviated the pain, but hampered focus.

“Please.” Raëlta awaited the concoction.

Atandil ought not be in any immediate danger, but each second that passed raised the possibility of something going awry. She could not rush to return, but she could not dawdle either.

The priest returned with the water, and mixed the tincture before adding water to cool the formerly near-boiling tincture. Once it was merely warm, Raëlta raised it to her lips and took a quick but careful sip. Normally, the contents would have settled at the bottom before drinking, but time was too short for that. She wiped her lips once she was done and returned the cup.

All she could do now as await her own recovery. It needn't be a full one. Merely enough to return in condition to contend with whatever could be normally expected.

If there was any abnormality, she did not yet know it.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

Eerily quiet was this apparition before him. Unsettling still as well, save for the wisps of black shadow that gently snaked around its figure. He frowned at the sight of it, uncertain whether to address it or not. But this uncertainty ran short, as the thing address him.

"You are not welcome," it lifted its arm, and long spindly and ghostly white fingers emerged from beneath a drooping cuff, "be gone."

Boney fingers snapped, and in the very instant a force unseen by his eyes slammed against him. All sight and sound departed from him, but unlike the breaking feeling from before, this time he remained whole, tumbling listlessly through nothingness.

Then as suddenly as he'd departed from there, he slammed into a dusty mound and rolled into a crumpled heap.

Even further away now.

Standing to his feet, he gave his head a shake and found himself yet again somewhere else. Above him was a starry sky without so much as a single blemish of cloud. Around him was a dry and barren waste, flat for as far as the eye could see. And there in the far off distance, a single figure. Was it the same from before? Or another?

Doubt clouded his mind, but with no guiding voice to lead him, he found himself with little other choice than to approach the far off figure. And indeed, coming near, he found himself in the midst of yet another shadowy figure. This one stood atop a round altar with sickly images and engravings adorning it all around. Its robes were black and torn, a long hood hung low over its head, and in one arm it held a long, silver sickle.

As Atandil approached, it turned to look at him with eyes glowing golden yellow beneath the veil of a thick shadow.

He stopped before it, and as he looked up to it upon its altar he opened his mouth to say something to this creature - but then something held his tongue. An unknown hesitancy, an instinctual caution.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta took the offered tincture with both hands, gingerly raising the vessel to her lips with a steady sip to down the contents. Pulling up the cuff of her sleeve, she dragged her wrist across her lips. Then, she passed the empty cup back to Sylrae, who had a look of concern on her face.

“Do you think he'll be alright?” She asked, turning to Atandil, who still lay unconscious.

“I do hope so...” Raëlta replied. Truthfully, she wasn't sure, and was hesitant to give any answer. It seemed enough that she'd observed it. She'd known exactly what happened – she didn't have to guess at the disruption's cause.

Concerning, but not alarming. Impulsive as Atandil may be, she'd not known him to be foolish. She didn't expect he'd get in that much further trouble.

The priestess then paced in place for a moment, awaiting her recovery. It took a few minutes before she felt fit to return to the joining. It was not a full recovery, but that hardly felt necessary. And the sooner she returned, the sooner she could guide him and ensure his safety from himself.

“I'm ready.” She stated, planting the base of her staff against the stone floor. Facing Atandil, Raëlta then closed her eyes and lowered her head, focusing herself upon him to rejoin his vision.

---

A glowing white haze began to materialize. Shifting from one abstract form to another, the priestess did her best to focus herself. The lingering effects from her prior expulsion still addled her mind, but she managed to push past that. After a few more moments the chaotic pattern of light began to organize and take the shape of the scene awaiting her.

The haze clouding her mind still lingered, and the world before her appeared as if viewed through twisted glass. In the distance, someone spoke in a manner so inaudible that it sounded like it had come from beneath water. Neither certain nor knowing of who said it, or even what had been said, she approached the odd and indiscernible figure that was little more than a moving blob in her vision.

Her perception of the dream began to steadily grow clearer, until she could see two figures before her with one appearing noticeably darker than the other. Only when she could clearly perceive firm ground beneath her feet did she begin to move. Slowly, she approached.

And then she saw it. The glowing yellow light that pierced her hazy vision. Unable to clearly see what was before her, she still had several suspicions.

None of which bode well.

“...Atandil?”

She called out, a tinge of concern to her tone that even she could not conceal.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

For a time he seemed fixed in place, mesmerized by the golden gaze that bore down upon him with the weight of a hundred worlds. It seemed to study him, delving in through the windows of his soul and testing his very being. Where it stood upon its twisted pedestal, ribbons of darkness and plumes of shadow did whirl gently around its figure. And from this blackness and mist came the sounds of many voices, quiet and distant, crying out in fear and anguish.

He felt this fear, he felt this wretched misery. He felt the absence of hope as it fled from him. Cold and dark, encompassing, far greater and more vast than his mind was willing, or perhaps even able to perceive. And the longer it persisted, the longer it weighed down upon him the more his mind tensed and pulled, and he felt as though it might shatter - and then...

“...Atandil?”
​

Like a lifeline was her beckoning, fleeting in its passing. Urgently and without thought did he reach to it, and his focus was torn from the being before him and turned around to face her.

Within, his mind abruptly settled and felt once more whole and secure, mended and uninfringed by the invasion just prior.

Relief.

---

It looked up, its gaze leaving from the dimmer one before it and on to the brighter one beyond.

To this one - guarded and she was, protected behind her gifted veil - it could speak. And with the sound of many voices echoing upon one another did it utter its words.

"Far from your hallowed halls, from your Isle of Light, do your sheep stray, shepherd,

farther than ever in your long history.

Many of late I have led through the pass -

shall this one go now, too?"

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

It was a great relief to sense Atandil reaching for her, and Raëlta both beckoned and ushered him within what security she could provide. In her still addled state, she was unable to observe the being with the same clarity as he. Though there were many malevolent entities she ought rightly be concerned about, yet there also more benevolent beings she knew ought not be threatened. Unable to discern which applied here, she was still certain it wasn't meant to be here.

Raëlta stood before the being with a display of confidence that was practised and professional. It betrayed her grave concern for her own hindered ability to contend with the potential peril. Whether the being before them was malicious, mischievous or even indifferent, she had to maintain a presentation of capablity. For, were her worst fears realized, this being would not hesitate to assail them were weakness detected.

It began to speak to her, and Raëlta remained stoic in her stance as she listened. Unconvinced that it was trustworthy, it was still a saving grace that it was not immediately hostile.

"Far from your hallowed halls, from your Isle of Light, do your sheep stray, shepherd,

farther than ever in your long history.

Many of late I have led through the pass -

shall this one go now, too?"

She could not deny the truth to the words, Atandil's lapse in judgment had taken them both quite far from where they ought be.

“No.” She stated, her tone steady and measured. The priestess could only conceal her tension. Unable to know precisely what she was dealing with, brevity was best for concealing that weakness.

“He is one of mine. He will return with me.” She declared, gesturing for Atandil to seek safety behind her, whether he required it or not. She had little idea how the being might react, nor what it's motives might be. Lacking any insight to work with, she could only wait to gauge its reaction. What little power she did hold was manipulated in preparation to whisk herself and Atandil away from it.

It was power she'd rather not have to expend, but she knew she might well have to.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

Beneath the shroud of whatever veil Raëlta's presence provided, Atandil was free to move within the scope of her authority. And so, his presence moved from there between she and the dark being before them, moving to place her now between he and it.

And as he did so, it watched intently, but made no move to intervene.

Then, when he'd safely placed himself behind Raëlta's more dominating presence, the entity spoke to her again, its focus shifting unnervingly quick upon her.

"Return from here, you must. Only those on their way on may venture through here for long...

...however, priestess."

There was a flash in each of their perception, and each of them was taken from that place and to yet another once again. It was like the blinking of an eye, without so much as a change in the air. Tall, lush trees round about them. Underfoot, the shortened grass of a well traveled path. There just near to them, the dark entity lingered upon its dark altar, whose blackness seemed confined to itself even still. Yet the being looked upon them continuously, and it spoke,

"Fate would bring you here now.

In all my existence, I have questioned very little.

I have a question now.

Follow down this path, you will, and find my answer for me.

Then, you shall return."

Then, the being dissipated into a wispy smoke and ascended out of sight. Before them, through the trees, a narrow path was shown to them.

And Atandil, ever the ponderous one, began to wonder if this journey was really his own anymore.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta stood silent and strong in the face of the unrecognizable being. As it spoke, the priestess listened carefully to both what was said, and how it had been spoken. She still didn't quite know what it was, and apprehension towards it's intent remained high.

Yet the being had promised an answer. To what, Raëlta did not know, though the priestess was still in search of many. It was a blessing above all that the Shoraes had returned to them, but the reason why it had remained unclear. What had transpired here while they had been separated from it? Raëlta wondered both about what might be revealed, and what risk the search might pose to them both.

Behind the safety she had arrived to project was Atandil, as inexperienced a companion as she could possibly find at her side. Yet the opportunity presented was one she could not expect again – with her senses clouded, she knew it was unlikely that she could manage to return later. Atandil, though his sense remained clear, was no more likely to retrace his steps.

The priestess did not like this. She did not trust the being, nor the situation. Yet...the promise of potential answers was wisdom that could not be done without. In this moment and task, she was Atandil's protector. Her greater role however, was to be protector over all.

It would be for the greater good of all to pursue this, a cause most worthy of the risk required. Despite her discomfort, they had to push forward. The endeavour would be treacherous for one so young, yet valiant to undertake.

“Atandil...?” She began. Raëlta sought her words with precision, careful to neither deceive Atandil through omission, nor startle him with undue concern. It was much to ask, and she wished to make the request an honest one. It could not be a demand. As much as she would rather receive affirmation from Atandil, Raëlta realized what peril would arise with one who was both unprepared and unwilling.

“I sense much has transpired here since our absence.” She continued. “I know not how you reached this location, nor what might await us down this path. I can make no guarantee of safety.” Raëlta said. The words were difficult to get out, standing in conflict with her own protective nature.

“What may be discovered could prove invaluable. The path forward is unknown, but I will remain to guide. I ask not if you are ready, but if you are willing to go.” She added. “If you are not, I implore you to say so honestly. The unknown path is not one the meek ought follow.” With that, Raëlta knelt down and began to focus her mind to meditate. Whether she was to lead Atandil further into the unknown or back to safety, she’d need her perception to be clear and unclouded. Now that the entity was absent from them, she seized the opportunity.

“Take what time you need – I must meditate myself.” Raëlta said, falling silent a moment later as she fell into a careful trance.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

If it had not been already abundantly made clear to him, than it certainly had been now.

This was far more than his journey on into the Shoraes now. There was more to this than just him, though, he thought, it was he who had been fated to see it come to this.

But in truth, he indeed did need to weigh what it was they were about to take on. So, as his guide prepared herself in a meditative trance, he too prepared his mind in what ways he could for what was to take place, and dwell on what had brought them here. Whatever this being was, it had not seemed malevolent. At least not outright. It certainly held the appearance of something far darker than he or his kind, but if it had wanted to assail them then he was certain it could have, and would have. Maybe they presented far more use to it before such things. But hopefully it was in fact benevolent, or at least benign.

In either case, he saw little choice other than to pursue the path that had been laid before them.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​

 

[Raëlta Ylnâthel]

Raëlta remained still with her eyes closed, the air humming with meditative energy. She didn’t know the entity’s disposition beyond what had been briefly observed. She couldn’t know what she had barely been able to see, given the strain of her rapid rejoining, and all she could ascertain about the being was that it held a high quantity of power. Ultimately, she put her faith into it, though the matter of whether it possessed truly benevolent intent could only be considered a mere possibility.

It was still enough to warrant a closer look. It would be a dereliction of religious duty to let such a thing go uninvestigated, but the same could be said of her duty to protect the younger and les experienced Atandil. It was up to her to balance both responsibilities, and she dared not falter in either.

Upon conclusion of her meditative trance, Raëlta slowly opened her eyes, and the steady harmony through the Shoraes faded to soft silence. With mind rejuvenated, the scene around them returned to clarity, sharp and distinct where it had been foggy and muddled. Raëlta looked towards the direction it had gestured to earlier, and then to Atandil beside her.

“I am prepared, and I trust you are, too. If not, correct me, but we haven’t long.” She said. She’d not want to keep this being waiting, whatever its nature happened to be.

With that, and with Atandil at her side, she set off in the direction of the being. The high priestess led the way with her holy staff held out. The path turned and twisted, and the route became convoluted to take. Yet, the dim glow atop her staff served as a guiding beacon while they descended further towards the unknown.

Atandil

 

[Atandil]

At her word, he too declared himself ready and drew in a deep breath - or at least, he thought he did.

As they departed, he fell into step behind the priestess, and he could not help but admire the resolution in her. She was indeed the epitome of faith, stalwart in the face of an uncertainty he knew was unknown to her. Yet by the Shoraes' guiding light she faltered not, and waded through the darkened abyss before them.

And it did indeed turn and twist. It darkened, and then grew bright. It became hot, and then it became cold, and all of it seemed to meld into oneness as they traversed.

And then as the sun splits the horizon did the way part and become open. It became still, and they found themselves in the midst of an endless expanse of a dark, ankle deep ocean.

He looked up, and became awestruck. Above, he could perceive what appeared as all of space and time, hung high above like a great circle of many lights.

"Priestess," he almost whispered as he gazed up, but his attention was stolen by yet another light, darting across his sight as quick as the wind.

As he turned to see, several others appeared and wisped past him, and as their number grew they began to twirl around them as a harmless whirlwind. To look upon them closely and with great care, one would see at the center of these little luminous balls the image of a person, though they shone so brightly that no features could be discerned.

Unmistakably, these little creatures were known in their waking world as Shorai Sprites, mysterious little creatures that inhabited Aeraesar. The Aerai knew little of them despite having lived alongside them for as long as any could tell. Interactions between them had always been scarce and rarely revealed anything about their nature, other than they typically seemed harmless and playful.

They'd been seen very seldom since the War of the Eventide, and now they were seen here. He could hardly understand the significance and was only joyfully confused, until he realized their behaviour was not like one would expect. They'd never appeared in such numbers, or done anything like what they were doing now - and more of them continued to appear.

---

Raëlta Ylnâthel ​