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Meditations on Reflections

Join us in the Shrine of the Thirteenth for a guided meditation on Dark Reflections. Be prepared to confront your darker passions either aloud among the group or privately, and begin the steps towards mastering them. Vanora Grimhall, Second Reflection of the Thirteenth, will lead the meditation at the Shrine. All are welcome.

Date

June 17, 2019, 4 p.m.

Hosted By

Vanora

Participants

Merek Orazio(RIP) Lark Rinel Sophie Bliss Harlex Valdemar Rowenova Kaia Zacharie Selene Arman Mirella

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - Shrine of the Thirteenth

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


Dame Rosario Nevarre of the Oathlands, Anouk Ardennes, Anais Ardennes, Triage, The white dove of Mercy, 3 Valardin Knights, 1 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Sophie.

Jared, an overworked-looking, nervous Apprentice Whisper, Sophie arrive, following Bliss.

Disciple Isabeau, Grace, a twittering songbird, 2 Faith of the Pantheon trained guards, 2 Faith of the Pantheon novice guards arrive, following Orazio.

Merek makes his way into the place with his cape adjusted about his black attire, as he settles at a place to relax a moment while he looks forward as well, listening.

2 Pravus Honor Guard, Levastire, a devoted clerk arrive, following Zacharie.

This morning the Shrine of Tehom is a bit busier than usual, with Silent Reflections here and there tending to the candles and offerings, and assorted Mirrormasks in prayer. In front of the altar is a woman in a dark mirrormask who appears to be preparing to address a crowd, as the congregation slowly filters in, Silent reflections usher them, silently of course, to take seats at the benches or positions standing in front of the many mirrors.

"Welcome to the Shrine of the Thirteenth. If you are participating in today's guided meditation, you will want to find a place in front of a mirror to get comfortable." There are cushions being passed out as well, and an acolyte of the temple circles the room offering a candle to anyone who has come to meditate with the Mirrormasks today. The lady in the Dark Mask lights her own candle at the altar, a long black taper that burns brightly. Holding it in her hands, the flame dances across the reflective surface of her mask. "Begin by getting comfortable, settling into your space, and observing your reflection for a moment or two. Try to clear your mind of other thoughts that might interfere during this important work by slowly counting your breaths."

Orazio makes his way into the Shrine of the Thirteenth. He's an old man now, wizened and tired - and the responsibility of the Dominus lies heavily upon him, judging by the lines of his face. And yet there's still youth in his eyes, that strength of will and determination that are so indicative of the Orazio that has been serving the city for decades now. Some Disciples greet him and he nods politely in return, before making his way to a bench and sitting, waiting for the sermon to begin. His own attendants accompany him, fanning out around him and making sure he's comfortable, but he doesn't find a spot in front of a mirror himself.

Princess Lark Grayson is diminutive and still, easy to overlook in a plain gown of dove grey and shorter than the majority of the crowd. Her ink-dark gaze flicks towards Orazio from where she stands in the crowd even as she accepts a candle from the acolyte, studying the man, before she looks back to the Mirrormask that addresses them.

Rinel looks relieved at the location of the Dominus and goes to sit in another bench. She isn't scowling, but her lips are a bit thinner than usual. Still, she is, mercifully, quiet.

Dolmen, a Crimson Agent arrives, following Harlex.

Merek makes his way to a mirror, while he settles before it as well.

Sophie enters quietly with Bliss, and when Orazio enters she smiles warmly toward him, and nods politely. She hears the woman at the front of the room speak, and she quietly makes her way toward one of the mirrors, plucking a pillow from the offering hands of a disciple on the way. Once it's situated on the floor in front of a mirror she sinks onto it with a little sigh and starts to get herself situated. She pulls the white robes she wears around her body tightly and looks into the mirrow while she awaits the next instructions patiently.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe arrive, following Mirella.

Sir Floppington, the soulful hound arrives, following Rowenova.

There is a sort of reverence that is often in the eyes of those from the Lyceum in the Shrine of the Thirteenth, and Bliss Whisper is no exception. She lets Sophie peel away and settle herself in front of a mirror, and she just takes a look around for a moment at the people gathered before nodding to herself, taking the pillow and moving back to sit near - but not directly next to - Sophie, likely giving room for personal space to the two of them. It's the woman in the mirror that has her focus, the dark stone dimming the bright brocade she is wearing, the eerie shadows that it casts over her face.

It's about the only Shrine one could catch Harlex at, most days. He steps in, quiet beneath the stride of his gait, heading toward the crowd as others appear to assemble for the meditation. With instruction from the Mirrormasks, he seeks out a place to sit before one of those lining mirrors and rests on a bench. Swords wrapped by the belt, nestled against his side. He strums a dark claw along his knee. Studying himself, he takes in a measured breath and does as instructed. Observing his hard, tenebrous features. His unfortunately bright, bright green eyes. Focusing there, on himself, not the adornments of his person but just his countenance.

Valdemar is here as well, has been for a short time, though he only takes a seat when the woman in the dark mask instructs those present to do so. Settling in before a mirror, the Duke focuses on his own reflection with practiced ease, watching himself intently in that reflective surface and taking only a short moment to still his movements beyond the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

Quietly now, Nova and Flop slip inside and carefully traverse across the reflective flooring, doing so with shorter steps for the human being than her usual stride for some reason. Meanwhile, Flop is literally leaning on her, giving The Eye to the silent folk and anyone else who may be extra creepy.

Kaia quietly makes her way in, doing as instructed, she makes herself comfortable in front of one of the mirrors after having taken hold of a cushion and stares at her refelction for a moment. She would be attempting to count her breaths, hoping to achieve that clearing of mind --but her expression would likely hint that she was probably having a difficult time doing so.

The lady in the Dark Mirrormask continues. "Once you have settled in with your reflection, use the flame from your candle to examine it. As you do so, ponder who it is you want to be, what you wish to show the world of yourself...and then consider what you do not. Look into your own eyes and confront the dark passions that rule you. Perhaps you are harboring wrath for an enemy, and fantasies of vengeance. Perhaps you are growing vain and greedy, or envious of those around you who have more. Each and every one of us has flaws, aspects of ourselves that are the shadowy ones, what we hope no one notices and fear admitting even to ourselves. Tehom teaches us to move past that notion of comfort and towards what we are afraid of, that it might be acknowledged and mastered. As you consider these things, continue to focus on breathing slowly, and on being present in this moment."

After a small pause, she continues. "When you have focused on your reflection long enough to see your true self, you may speak aloud what you are confronting to offer it to the Thirteenth, or you may ponder it in silence, the choice is your own. I will share my own meditation so that it might serve as an example..."

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe leave, following Mirella.

Zacharie enters quietly, carefully even, taking care to make as little sound out of his footfalls as possible. He catches the last of the instructions, considers visibly for a moment, and does indeed find a place in front of a mirror. Game for the proceedings, he takes a long slow breath and appears to put his best effort into the examination of his own face.

Merek lifts up his candle to that reflection, so that he can focus as well as ponder while he is doing so as well. He doesn't look like he will be speaking his as well.

Renault, the fluffiest Velenosan cat, Athenais, a dreamy apprentice Whisper arrive, following Selene.

Selene takes a moon-silvered mirrormask from a velvet drawstring pouch slipped over the wrist.

Though her dark gaze does slip to the mirror in front of her for a moment, Lark's attention does not linger overlong on her own reflection. It flicks over the crowd, scanning, studying those that are gathered more than herself.

Someone wearing a moon-silvered mirrormask puts a moon-silvered mirrormask in a velvet drawstring pouch slipped over the wrist.

Selene takes a moon-silvered mirrormask from a velvet drawstring pouch slipped over the wrist.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe arrive, following Mirella.

The lady at the altar takes a few steps towards the congregation, pausing at a floor-to-celing mirror close to the altar. She looks at her own reflection even though the mask obscures her features, seeing something there despite it as the mirrors reflect one another's images back endlessly. "I see in myself the shadows that I would avoid. I see grudges that are held close, nursed and nurtured like children instead of overcome. They stem from a place of envy, and a place of pride that holds me back from who I would become. I offer to the Thirteenth my envy, my vanity, and my desire for vendettas. I make the commitment to reach out to those who have scorned me, even if rejection is likely. I put my vanity and greed aside for the sense of community the gods would offer to humankind, I fight that which would hold be back."

There is comfort here, a familiarity among the mirrors. Selene is neither the first nor the last to enter the shrine, though she amounts to those among the quietest. For more than likely the luminaries ahead of her may be focused already upon their candles. Confidence emanates from that certain stride that brings her to a halt, and she settles in front of a polished surface unoccupied by others. Knees fold beneath her seasilk gown and she descends to rest quite comfortably. The rhythmic matter of breathing follows suit a short time later.

Taking a deep breath, Bliss looks at her own reflection, not turning away to focus on the others at all. There is a sort of familiarity that she has, the sort of look that only someone who spends a significant time staring at herself in the mirror might have, her expression going neutral. The Radiant turns her head one way, then the other, Bliss looking at her skin, perhaps, but then back into her eyes. A small smile creeps across her face, a knowing one, as she listens to what the masked woman leading the meditation has to say, and her hand rests on the peacebound hilt of Vowkeeper, her head shaking softly as she lets out a sigh from her nose. Whatever thoughts she is having? She keeps to herself, at least for now.

Kaia lifts up the candle and ponders on both her wishes, passions and fears in silence, her eyes shifting from the flame to her own gaze staring at her across the mirror. All the while making an effort to mantain her breathing even.

Rinel has joined the Perfectly Balanced Bench Seating.

Harlex takes his candle and moves it in a half-ring over the surface of the mirror, examining himself and these facets of himself that he's suppose to seek. Though he is still in the process of it, as the lady of the altar speaks. After a time, he withdraws the candle. He says aloud, "I see weakness. Frailty in humankind. Striving for strength that feels unobtainable. I offer the Thirteenth my doubts, my melancholy and hopelessness. And I will seek to amend it, even if I stumble. I won't let it stop me." He doesn't appear afraid to voice these things reflected.

Sophie's quiet as she listens to the Mirrormask leading the meditation, and it's clear that she's slightly uncofortable at the beginning of her own meditation. She shifts again on the cushion, and it's only after a few minutes that her eyes settle on the matching pair of sky blue eyes in the mirror. Her hands fold in her lap and she takes a deep breath before tilting her head and concentrating on the reflection of herself in the mirror.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Matteo arrive, following Arman.

It would be impossible to tell if the lady in the Dark Mirrormask is smiling, yet the way she looks upon Harlex as he offers his thoughts aloud one can almost imagine the smile beneath the mirrored surface.

When the Silent Reflections come up to usher along Nova, Sir Flop lets out a quiet grumble after which his human companion reaches over, slowly pets him, and then quietly mentions, "Oh geez. Good Boy, it is okay. Do you want out?" Stepping back to the door, Nova opens it, but Flop seems adamant about being right there with her and constantly leaning against her. Awkwardly holding an open door (for the new arrivals like Prince Arman!). She quietly tries to negotiate with Flop about it all. "I promise I will be okay. Just go ahead and go explore or what not."

Arman stepped into the familiarity of the shrine, moving beyond the corridor of mirrors into the shrine's belly. He moved aside from there with a small nod to Rowenova in thanks before finding a place along the periphery of the gathering to stand and observe.

Lark's fingers catch on a drop of wax, immediately putting her finger to her mouth for a moment. She listens as others speak, watches as others seem to react to their own reflections without putting anything to words, lingering particularly on Bliss for a moment. Then the former High Lord of the Crownlands lifts her own voice to offer: "I see anger, rage that has been burned deep with every life lost, a darkness that grows with every extinguishing of light that others have given me. I see a desire to destroy worlds, to tear apart cities until they are ash where they hold hostage my family, where they threaten my way of life." Correction for what she sees? This, she doesn't add.

Rinel looks at Flop, then makes a quiet "tch tch" sound and pats her leg invitingly. She's seated in the middle of the benches, a fair distance away from it all. Safety for dogs and Oathlanders alike.

"If this rite is unfamiliar to you..." The masked woman begins, "It may feel uncomfortable. Try to push past that discomfort if you can, yet do not feel pressured to speak your truths if it feels like too much. The Thirteenth knows them regardless, and your prayers and silent meditation are enough to move you forward. If you are experienced with this meditation, or are not feeling troubled with unease, then do share your meditation aloud as the Sword of Lenosia did, and the Princess Grayson. These truths when confronted strengthen you, allow you to evolve and become something more. Embrace that through discomfort."

Selene raises her gaze when the Grayson princess speaks. In such proclamations, a great deal to be learned. Her lowered gaze avoids direct eye contact but a survey she makes all the same with the earnest interest of someone listening closely. If to the end she happens to nod for a moment, so may it be seen as a simple acknowledgment.

"Her name is Torment," Bliss says after a moment, motioning toward her reflection briefly with her chin. "She keeps secrets buried deep within her, enough that they are beginning to mask who she is. A fury at the center of it all, a screaming pain. There is so much more, but..." she trails off, closing her eyes and shaking her head, that smile still lingering on her face as she opens it and looks the other Bliss in the eyes again. "The Thirteenth knows my offerings regarding her by now. They are between me and him."

After those words, Nova looks up to where Lark is with a curious mien, but the Northern scout is soon distracted by Sir Floppington who seems to plaster his houndly self against her and do so in a way which steers Nova toward Rinel. After the awkward duo finally arrive proximal to the Oathlander where the soulful hound peels away for a little bit to soak up whatever affection that Rinel might give. Nova sits down beside her, nodding slightly before then glancing forth toward the ongoing rituals.

Upon the direction of a disciple or the vague gesturing of one of the Silent Reflections, Arman seemed to briskly catch up to speed on where everyone was at in the ritual. He moved toward the mirrors after receiving a candle though he did not kneel or seat himself. Instead he simply focused upon the mirror, staring in silence though en route a low bow of his head was dipped toward the lingering Dominus. One of those gestures received mostly only for royalty, but it seemed His Most Holy was also considered for that calibre of respect by the traditional Lycene. Otherwise he remained quiet and watchful of the mirror before him, listening to those surrounding give forth their testimony of what they saw.

Sophie's voice is quiet as she says, "I see pride.. someone who wants to accomplish things for her own glory instead of the glory due to the gods.. someone who lets pride stand in the way of her relationship with the gods.. with Lagoma.." Sophie blinks once and she adds, "I see mistakes made from this pride." Sophie shifts a little and continues to study her reflection in the mirror quietly.

Another of the quietest number is represented by Mirella, who sits calm and straight upon the cushion, legs curled beneath the ripples of her gauzy seasilk skirts. Her breath comes and goes like the whisper of slowly-undulating seas, and her duskstone eyes -- shielded by lowered lids and heavy black eyelashes -- are almost as glassy as the mirror into which they look. With one pale hand resting upon her lap, and the other holding the candle aloft, she quietly murmurs, "Arrogance. Pride. The stubborn foolishness bred by self-regard."

Harlex looks aside from his reflection for just a moment to acknowledge Lark's voice and see her and he seems to nod a bit, almost approvingly, before attention is drawn to Bliss then with some quiet consideration as well as Sophie. He turns back to look at his reflection, focusing upon it while the other's speak.

Merek seems to think about those words, then he nods a bit to his reflection. It would seem like he has what he seeks on his mind. He then decides to speak, "I deal with the hopelessness that seems to take me often, and feel like no matter what I do it is not enough to protect people. Often I deal with distance from people for worry of them."

Lark's gaze slides to Bliss as the Radiant speaks, a familiarity sparking between their confessions, perhaps. She tips her chin softly towards the other woman, her gaze lingering another moment before she makes a little waving gesture of her fingers that likely is supposed to mean something.

Zacharie sits comfortably in front of the mirror, apparently either relatively practiced with the ritual or not too disturbed with what he sees. Which of this is unclear; he has evidently decided to reflect upon what he sees quietly, internally.

Rinel smiles thinly at Rowenova as she sits near her, but the woman's smile warms briefly for Sir Floppington. The dog receives many, many scritches behind the ears, and Rinel keeps her hand resting gently on him as the ceremony proceeds.

The masked woman near the altar turns her head, though it's not easy to tell just where she is looking. For a moment to the dog, perhaps, because she cants her head towards it, but then Bliss and Sophie both address their reflections aloud, and she nods almost imperceptibly at each, in thanks or acknowledgement.

"Take a few more moments to ponder the shadows that distract you, that might consume you, and offering them to the Thirteenth. For some of you, that alone will be enough, and there is no need to press further. Others will be ready for that next step, and might now consider something they might do when they leave this meditation today, to battle what is dark within. For me, I determined to reach out and build compassion where there is anger in my heart, to release old grudges and let them die, rather than allowing them to poison my thoughts and those of others around me. To shed my pride, even if it is unpleasant to do so, for it is how we grow, by pushing past our comfort levels and towards what is new, in order to better ourselves and the world."

Harlex holds his candle in his hand, the light shining weirdly over the blackened metal of his gauntlet. He unfurls the claw tips, considering what is said, and looking from this gesture toward his features which are drowned in the shadows of the badly lit Shrine. The words of the Mirrormasked speaker clearly considered by a self-directed nod.

Something makes Bliss turn her head a little, and that seems to be enough that she catches Lark's motion of her head, giving the woman a small lifting of her own fingers as well, a small smile of recognition toward the Grayson Princess before she looks to her own reflection once more, lifting the candle to rest near her chin, illuminating her skin as best she can in the black stone.

Against the pew backing, Nova leans back and then slightly sidways to Rinel, softly speaking in the quietest tones to not cause major disruption here. Meanwhile, Sir Floppington happily regards Rinel with a wagging tail and the grateful eyes of a hound dog who is touched deeply in his heart for being treated kindly by an adored human as he looks up at Rinel. Many nosings!

The cool intentions painted against the shining surface find Selene narrowing her eyes. Once more attention departs from the crowd and settles there, scouring her reflection with a singular intensity.

Orazio folds his hands in his lap, listening to those who share their meditations. He doesn't share whatever he's thinking of course - the Dominus is unlikely to speak randomly about whatever his failures are, of course. And yet there's something in his mien that suggests he's paying close attention both to the sermon and the participants.

Merek nods a bit when the Mirrormask speaks, seeming to content in his thoughts while he thinks on what he might do, looking then to the candle as well as reflection also.

Sophie's gaze moves from the mirror to the flame of the candle she's holding as she continues the meditation. Unshed tears make both pair of sky blue eyes shimmer, and when she lifts the gaze back to the mirror and she looks into her own eyes, determination sparking there.

"Good work." The masked lady praises the gathered group, meeting them wherever they are in the meditation. "When you are ready, bid your reflection farewell and turn from the mirror. The Silent Reflections will open the doors after each of you have shown you have finished by blowing your candle out, like this." A puff of air and her candle is extinguished. "If anyone wishes to linger, for questions or discussions, I will remain here for some time. Otherwise, I thank you for joining us here today, and hope that each one of you have taken something from our time together that you can use."

Harlex rises to his full height, adorning his waist with belt and burden of the bound Mirror Blade. He bids farewell to his reflection, turning and exhaling a breath which sees the candle snuffed and only the memory of fire remaining on the smoking wick. He gives another bow of his head to the masked lady, as though in gratitude.

Once her candle is extingued, Vanora removes her mirrormask, revealing her features, pale green eyes and pale skin. The illusion broken, but she was never aiming for anonymnity. "Thank you, Master Harlex, for sharing your thoughts aloud and participating. It pleases me to see you here." A smile is visible on her face, warm and compassionate, where the Mirrormask seemed so cold and unforgiving.

Lark does not linger overlong in front of the mirror, her expression giving little away as she blows her candle out firmly, quickly. She rises, handing the candle off to an acolyte, but she doesn't hurry to the exit.

A little exhalation of breath, and the flame upon Mirella's candle wavers and flits out. Setting it aside, she turns from the mirror slightly, gathering her legs up and curling them upon the cushion. For just a moment in the darkness, the certainty of her expression flickers too, but then calm returns and her eyes are cold like dark stone.

Kaia quietly does as instructed. She considers possible solutions or actions she can take in order to leave behind whatever it is she shares in silence with the god and at last, once ready, she puffs out the flame of her candle and sets it aside. Getting to her feet once more and quietly taking her leave afterwards.

Colin Laurent, a quiet and serene companion leaves, following Kaia.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe leave, following Mirella.

Rinel keeps petting Sir Floppington as she murmurs quietly to Rowenova. Her brow is furrowed, and she's frowning in earnest now.

Sophie seems reluctant to end the meditation, but she does.. eventually. She sighs heavily and rises, blowing the candle out as she does and handing it discreetly back to one of the attendants. She steps back from the mirrors and draws in a cleansing breath before clasping her hands in front of her and turning toward the room proper to see the others who have gathered for perhaps the first time.

Merek blows on the candle, while he shifts a bit so he can stand up also.

Bliss is less solemn as she ends her own meditation compared to some of the others, and her hand lifts, her fingers wiggling in a slow wave toward the figure therein before she blows out her candle, and the features dim to the point of lack of recognition. She stands, then, and looks at Sophie, smiling at her. "Shall we head back?" she wonders.

A quick breath extinguishes Zacharie's flame, and he rises easily to his feet, the expression on his face comparatively serene. Silent, he bows his head to the formerly-masked lady.

Vanora moves gracefully around the room, whispering bits of praise or gratitude to various people gathered to take part. Slowly she approaches Sophie, looking upon her with empathy in her pale green eyes, and whispering something softly in her ear. A hand lingers on the Mercy's shoulder briefly if she allows it, and then Vanora moves on.

Having been late to begin with, Arman lingered and continued to stare intently at his reflection. If one were to observe his expression, it was one of his usual dry twists of what could easily be viewed as condescension. Why would he be condescending toward his own reflection? Who knows. That was simply how it appeared to be. As others in meditation began to disperse, Arman murmured something beneath his breath and that expression shifted slightly. His brow furrowed in a barely there knit of what seemed to be anger. It washed away quickly and the elder prince turned to extinguish his candle and offer it to an attending Reflection.

Rinel gives Sir Flop a final skritch and rises with a wince. She hobbles her way towards Sophie and bows deeply. "Mother Mercy. I came across a snippet of information regarding Lady Lagoma and would speak to you at it--at your leisure, of course." Her eyes flick briefly to Bliss, then back to Sophie.

Harlex's attention is focused on Vanora as he turns, "Much obliged--" But it looks like he snaps his sharp gaze back to his reflection. Perhaps a trick of the light, but for the way his expression falls to something grim.

Sir Floppers happily soaked up all those pets, then they finally cease, and there is this look like 'why?', but he does nothing more to bother Rinel about the stopped affection besides watching her. Nova also stands up, too, then smiles to Sophie as Rinel addresses her.

The Silent Reflections throw open the doors as the last of the gathered blow candles out, letting the Shrine flood with sunlight. The whole aspect of the place seems different when lit by the day, and objects or figures that hold such mystique when lit by candleflame seem altogether ordinary. Almost.



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