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A Song for the Dreamer, A Prayer for Aion

Something dark has occurred recently in the Shrine to the Lost and Sister Dianna Godsworn knows enough of it to care to gather those who wish to sing to The Dream in a ritual cleansing of Aion's Shrine.

Date

March 15, 2020, 10:30 p.m.

Hosted By

Dianna

Participants

Waldemai Rinel Nina Rukhnis Ilsa Ras Lucita Merek Evander Vayne Katarina

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - Shrine of the Lost

Largesse Level

Grand

Comments and Log


1 Saik Guard, Gunther, a Rottweiler, Micana, Golden, an Oakhaven bloodhound arrive, following Lucita.

Stepping from the entrance to the left of Archlector Vayne of the Shrine to the Thirteenth and dressed in a cloak of opalescent plumes atop a lavish gown of nebulous black-and-wine-colored silk scattered with gemstones and glass beads winking like the stars, themselves, Sister Dianna Godsworn is literally sparkling, the bare chasm of her throat and chest modestly covered by an impressive wreath of mirrorsilver and sapphires; her dark, curly hair dusted with shimmering glitter. She holds in her left hand an unlit mirrorsilver censer on a chain as she steps to the low-lying table that stands above a patch of dark grass.

Despite how shiny she is, the priestess’ mood, however, is somber as she walks, taking note of those who wish to witness the cleansing and contribute by honoring The Dreamer with their own vision, songs or prayers. Standing at the doorway and around the walls of the shrine to distribut candles are volunteers from all of the various discipleships - although, if one were to note that a larger number of Mirrormasks and Silent Reflections are in attendance, it may not be too much of a surprise, due to the fact that this ceremony was organized by the Third Reflection Mirrormask and Archlector for the Shrine to the Thirteenth.

Dianna has joined the a low-lying tridecagon table with stone feet, inlaid with twelve raw stones.

Waldemai stands quietly near the back.

Rinel limps up next to Archlector Vayne and leans on her cane as she rests next to the man. She looks displeased, which is generally par for the course when Rinel Tern encounters any servants of Tehom. But, unlike the usual, the woman keeps her mouth shut. Mostly. She mutters something to Vayne.

Nina, being very curious about this ritual especially since it was a type of song, did not want to miss it. She knows a bit about why Dianna wanted to hold this event here today. She arrives quietly, dressed well and wearing her spider pendant from the Harlequins. She has a look of awe in her eyes at the priestess's glittering garb.

Rukhnis comes into the garden of the shrine looking as solemn as ever, yet with a shine of determination in her eyes and a resolute set to her jaw. For once she doesn't edge around to some perfectly unobtrusive out-of-the-way spot as she enters, but rather enters as if she had a right, or at least some mission, to be here. She crosses over to the shrine building itself to take a candle, which she holds loosely but reverently in both hands.

Ilsa was only one of many who had made their way to the Shrine to honour the God and to assist the Sister in the cleansing. She moved with ease in the space and took the candle if one was offered to her, seeking for a place where she could settle comfortably without causing either concern or disruption to the ritual.

Rinel mutters, "... is ... why there should ... ... ... ... the ..."

Ras has a faint smile on his face for some reason as he skulks in after Rukhnis, but he doesn't move with her upon approach - and instead migrates to the outskirts of the gathering, where he leans against an outer edge wall of the shrine's building's open face. Burying hands in his jacket pockets, he watches, gaze sliding sideways for a moment to take in Rinel.

Jaq, a solemn looking assistant, 2 Kennex corsairs arrive, following Evander.

Lucita comes into the shrine, her expression somber, quieter than is the usual for her. She leaves her dogs and a guard with them at the entry and glances around for a spot to sit.

Merek makes a way to the shrine, his attire adjusted about him, while he looks about.

Evander steps inside, his muffled coughing disturbing his otherwise quiet approach. He glances around, finding somewhere to stand largely out of the way, making sure he has his journal with him out of habit than any need.

Vayne stands with Dianna, wearing the usual sort of thing for his station - tabard, etc - and looking serious and intent. When Rinel mutters something quietly to him, he offers a quiet reply in response. Noting each person in turn with a level, even gaze, the Archlector then turns his attention back to Dianna.


Princess Katarina Valardin is there, flanked on either side by Valardin guards. She remains in plain sight of both Dianna and Vayne, and her golden eyes trail both figures as they move. Her hands are folded in front of her, and she bears a solemn, respectful expression -- different from her guards' solemn, dutiful ones.

"We begin this ceremony by expressing our intention for the ritual and sharing our gratitude to the gods for helping us on our journey," Dianna gently intones, her amber gaze slowly moving across the shrine to look into the eyes of each and every person here. "I thank you all for joining us and will invite you, when the cleansing is complete, to sing, to add your thoughts, to speak your dream to the Dreamer."

The Third Reflection takes a short pause before continuing with quiet gravity: "Dominus Marach wrote: 'When one asks about songs honoring Aion, they are asking the wrong question. I tell them to sing of themselves, to sing of the world, to sing of everything they know and everything they don't. To pick a song and sing it with their heart, for if they hear it, then so it shall be heard. But few are satisfied by that canticle. I have found they enjoy the explanation of one of my predecessors far more. Dominus Tin, who some believe is behind of the window, had a different explanation. And so, while his precise words may be lost to time, I will attempt to paraphrase what has been repeated in the church he stewarded through years of nightmare and sorrow: "Dominus Tin said, 'Look up at the stars. They abandon us during the day, when our lives are bright, but we can be forgiven for forgetting they ever exist. We cannot touch them, we cannot reach them, we know not their nature, and they remain ineffable in many ways to us. If we pray to them, they will never, ever answer us. We will never know what they truly are. We must make our peace with that.

'But, my children, if we are lost at sea, we look up at the night sky in all its beautiful mystery, and they still wait to guide us.'"

Again, Dianna pauses and speaks to all those gathered, "A dreadful thing has happened in this shrine, recently - and, though there is but a lingering darkness, we must show our gratitude that worse ends did not come. We are here to cleanse this shrine; but we do not pray to Aion - for it is not right to pray to the very thing of which we are one." She turns, setting her amber gaze on Vayne and nods silently, indicating his turn.

Nina listens to this intently. There is... always, some manner of song in her heart, and even at the comment she has the urge to get out her lute, and play. But she will wait, listen to the sermon, and then perhaps understand this better.

Rukhnis simply listens in silence, everything about her posture and face and the look in her eyes speaking of a keen and vibrant attentiveness. And yet, all this attention seems only focused partly on the speakers, and instead to be devoted to the shrine and its altar, the candlelit garden, the dark skies above, or perhaps to something felt only by Rukhnis herself -- but whatever it is, she seems to thrill to it like the sound of a long-unheard melody.

As she accepted her candle and awaited the beginning of the sermon, Ilsa's eyes were drawn to the darkened patch of grass she could just see from where she was standing. There was concern there and obvious curiosity, but it was subsumed by attentiveness as Dianna began to speak and her eyes found the Sister and her ears her words.

Vayne lets silence hang in the air for a moment and then he speaks. His tone is rich and smooth, voice clearly heard without him seeming to shout. "Great Aion, Dreamer of all we know, in whom we move and live and have our being, we are here with purpose. We would see what was done cleansed from this shrine, that all who step through the door from now until the end of all time would find for themselves the sense of wonder at the world in which we live - which you Dream - and would have their hearts turned toward knowing more, knowing better, and doing better." He lets the invocation end there, and then he turns to ignite his censer. Letting the fragrant smoke begin to billow, Vayne moves slowly to his right, walking around the table.

Waldemai moves back so the archlector can have an easy path.

Evander looks thoughtful at Dianna's words, nodding to himself here and there. He glances downwards, as if focused in thought for a moment, before Vayne's voice draws his attention back upwards.

Lucita stays respectfully silent, listening to each of the speakers.

Ras listens to Dianna and Vayne, and though his gaze shifts to follow the path of the Archlector's moving censer, focus continues to return to Rukhnis. After a moment or two, he pushes off the wall and pads very quietly over to Rinel.

Taking a lit piece of kindling from a Silent Reflection nearby, Dianna lights the material within her censer and softly blows until billowing white smoke lifts, wafting on the breezes. With smooth, elegant steps, the priestess steps around the small table, wafting the burning sage around while the sunlight streams through the table's embedded stones. Once circled, Dianna steps in the opposite direction from Vayne, moving with even, peaceful steps towards the left of the triangular shrine. Her focus is intent and her expression beatific. When she and the Archlector meet back at the entrance, both turn and face the altar, moving forward together and filling the room with wafting, cleansing smoke.

Dianna turns towards the group and softly speaks, her voice quiet enough that one must not quite strain to hear her. "I ask, as you witness this cleansing, to consider how this place feels, and what negativity you may harbor. We are part of The Dream; so, we must cleanse ourselves, as well. Close your eyes," she gently says, closing her eyes meanwhile, "consider it... then, let it go. Let the cleansing smoke carry it away; let The Dream fill you again with all potential."

Rinel glowers even more as the Mirrormasks speak of Marachian theology, but then Ras is next to her, and she murmurs something in response to a quiet question.

Waldemai closes his eyes as bidden. He stands still and quiet.

Nina closes her eyes, as well. She feels.... light, or at least, is trying to feel light. She is not one to allow her burdens to weigh her down, and though there are a few things on her mind, especially with regard to what had happened here, she allows them to pass with the smoke.

Rukhnis closes her eyes as requested, slowly, a distant look settling upon her face. She isn't still, but rather sways in place a little, her movement like a dance about to spring into motion but held captively in place. She draws in a deep breath, unclasping one hand from the candle to touch the chains of her earring and set them clinking softly, and then she exhales just as slowly and returns her hand to the candle.

Ilsa, still silent, still attentive, still allowing the words of the ritual and the sermon to wash over her inhaled, catching just that first waft of sage as it burned, allowing her eyes to close on the exhale. She seemed entirely content to remain so, allowing her other senses to do what her eyes no longer could. She was careful though, not to allow the candle, still unlit, to waver.

Evander seems to be well-practiced at being still and quiet, his eyes closing, quiet breath only occasionally married by a slight, muffled cough.

Vayne leads by example, his eyes closing. Vayne's head tilts backwards, face up toward the sky. There's a low rumble from the man that sounds only vaguely musical in tone - like the bass line of a rather uninspired song - and then he's quiet. The Archlector's eyes open and he looks around the shrine, his dark eyes piercing as he takes in each individual. "You are invited and encouraged to participate in this. Offer whatever you wish as part of the cleansing ritual," he says, then he adds with a small smile, "and thank you."

Rukhnis has joined the line.

Lucita follows the instructions given as the clansing progresses, remaining respectfully silent.

Turn in line: Rukhnis

Rukhnis truly is still now and simply breathes in and out for several long moments, each inhale and exhale deep and calm. As the flame of her candle wavers in the evening breeze her dark eyes catch its glow, the liquid glimmer in her gaze becoming more pronounced as she pauses, parts her lips, and begins.

What comes next is not a song, quite, nor exactly a chant, but something between the two; low and melodic and somehow mesmerizing in its cadences despite the husky roughened quality of her voice. At first the sounds from her tongue aren't even words, or at least not Arvani words, nor Eurusi words, nor those of any other language recognizable by scholars, but instead seeming to belong to some made-up dream-tongue like a soft babble of lullaby.

Nina has joined the line.

Turn in line: Nina

But just when one might indeed be lulled almost into a dream oneself by the syllables' rough senseless intricacies, distinguishable words break forth in sense like bright birds taking sudden wing from a tangled thicket.

"Between the shadow
and the light
between the silence
and the sound
between the substance
and the thought
lies the dream--
between the future
and the past
between the forward
and the back
between the notion
and the act
lies the real--
between the dream
and the real
lies ourselves."

Even from this short snatch of chant, almost a prologue of sorts, Rukhnis's voice shows quiet signs of strain, and a bead of sweat captures its own fragment of candle glow as she continues in a different pebbly harmony.

"The color
of true desert birds
is dull gold and deep bronze,
and grey like tarnished pewter,
cloaking an iridescence
that hides in still plumage
but wakens
into brilliance
in flight.

During those parts of the year
that in other lands are called
Spring or Fall,
thousands of birds spill
across the sky,
in great flocks or lazy whirling kettles
or strung in dark wispy threads.

When the weather turns,
they tumble
from the sky,
a shower of living gems,
and roost ... "

There's a cracking in Rukhnis's voice as words and melody simply trail off, descending into a low gravelly hum that also soon fades. It doesn't seem as if they're really the end of the song, and yet it doesn't sound exactly unfinished either. It's more as if the last lines were themselves the start of something, the promise of potential, a new dream about to begin.

Waldemai bobs his head along with the chanting first section, but when the song breaks into full voice he simply lets it wash over him.

Ras checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 9 lower.

Golden, an Oakhaven bloodhound have been dismissed.

Gunther, a Rottweiler have been dismissed.

Micana have been dismissed.

1 Saik Guard have been dismissed.

Ras listens to Rukhnis in silence, which turns stunned as her wordless melody becomes voice. Despite himself, tears gleam visibly in his eyes, and for the entire time she sings, he doesn't move, and hardly breathes.

A tender, softhearted smile lifts Dianna's lips as she watches from the altar, listens to Rukhnis and dips her head in a respectful, appreciative nod to the singer before she sets her gaze, gently, on Ras.

Merek has joined the line.

Evander has joined the line.

There is something about Rukhnis that is quite simply ecstatic while she sings, despite the poor quality of her voice, and even now when she's long past done and has drawn back a little further to allow the next person to sing the Dream, some remnant of this emotion hovers around her like a fading aura, regardless too of the tears that have welled up from her eyes and trickled down across her face. She presses the tips of her fingers to her throat, right at the top edge of her high collar, and bows her head over her candle.

Ilsa has joined the line.

Entranced, Ras gazes on Rukhnis through glimmering eyes until she draws back for Nina. That's when he feels Dianna's look, and his focus flits the mirrormask's way for a split second before he quickly lifts a hand from pocket to half-cover his face. Tilting his head towards Rinel, he mumbles something in return to a whisper from the Oathlander theologian.

Next in line to sing, steps forward a woman who sings often, the bard Nina Autumndale. She looks quite entranced by the lovely words to Rukhnis's song as she approaches the table.

She begins with a low hum, herself, placing her hands open and flat. She then opens her mouth into a broad "Ah..."

And that is the sound she maintains, throughout.

She does not have words which come to mind, only tones and measures. But she does have a bold, strong voice which never once flaters as she leads it bravely through the chant. It begins with a solid count up, and down in normal scales. Then... There is a dip where her voice seems to almost strangely split, and then her tone is in a different key, dancing into a minor that flips almost ominously into closer and narrower tones. She is not afraid to face either Dream or Nightmare.

But as the notes progress, she moves into a sound that, while more eerie than cheerful, seems to resolve, on exactly the right note, at the right time. It was not practiced. But it seemed correct. Then with her voice now empty, for the moment, she stands aside.

Turn in line: Merek

Waldemai looks up as Nina sings, and bobs his head. He sways in time to the music.

Again, enchanted by Nina's music, Dianna softly sighs, her lips lifting in another smile. The priestess closes her eyes and dips her head in another grateful nod.

Merek assists with the singing and all, perhaps because he does what he can, he sounds alright. He isn't very notable, it's like he doesn't want to be that notable, then he's back into the background.

Turn in line: Evander

Evander clears his throat, as he steps up. He doesn't look nervous, but exactly like someone who is not used to such attentions, especially following the others. He is no trained singer, by far, so his voice is slightly off tune when he starts. Even so, he manages to get the measure of the song he more speaks-than-sings in a foreign language. It is short, especially in comparison to the other, more talented singers, and ends with a dip of his head as he steps back.

Evander says in Rex'alfar, "The dragons may come with flame so bright,
Searing the city to ash tonight.
The dragons may come with flame so hot,
Defying the will of the gods we've sought.
The dragons may come with flame so pure,
But together we're strong, and we'll endure.
The dragons may come, but you're safe here,
For I'm at your side, my child, my dear."

Turn in line: Ilsa

Ras has joined the line.

Ilsa did not open her eyes, even as she offered her voice. She was no trained singer, but had that sort of sweet, untutored voice that was a product of years of singing cadence to mark the time for sowing or reaping, the beats to which those who were of the land worked the land. There were no words to the song only the sort of easy melody that came to mind when one marked the rhythm of life as one passed through it. But for all of that, the tune was light and bright, a melody of spring and not of winter.

The priestess' eyes twinkle with delight at Merek, at Evander, at Ilsa as each adds to the song, her smile only growing more. She glances up to Vayne's eyes momentarily and her smile eases comfortably.

Something seems to be building in Ras, the intensity of his breathing visible from the subtle rise and lift of his cloaked frame, even though his gaze stays down and his hand over both eyes. Abruptly after Ilsa's sweet voice, he steps forward, arms dropping to his sides where fingers crook and seize into fists. His song is less of a song -- and more of a blasted, raging scream that foregoes all bonds of common dignity, containing a great depth of sudden inexplicable fury and sorrow.

Ras shouts from nearby, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Rinel checked composure + empathy at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Dianna checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 20 higher.

Ilsa checked composure + empathy at difficulty 15, rolling 14 higher.

It doesn't matter who it is or what they sing, whether it's wordless, or what the words mean if they're there. Rukhnis appears to truly, deeply appreciate the contribution of each and every person who sings here, even when those songs -- particularly Nina's pure virtuosic tones -- make the tears flow faster down her face. But when Ras gets up and simply lets out that long, ear-splitting, heart-rending scream, she simply gazes at him with eyes like dark pools, and bows her head once again in a silent depth of mourning.

Nina looks quite moved by all the singing as well... but when Ras screams, she tilts her head at him, almost as if curious. She cannot deny however, that the ritual seemed to be... to sing as whatever came to mind. Perhaps that is what came to mind. Her stare is a bit vacant for a moment.

Evander keeps his gaze mostly down, after his turn, though it does flicker upwards when Ras screams.

Waldemai jumps half out of his skin at the scream.

Ilsa's eyes still did not open, though her expression turned to sympathy as she heard that primal scream. Still, this was a time for listening, for accepting whatever was offered as the song that it was, be it joy or sorrow and so, she did not look to ease the pain she head.

Merek looks thoughtfully to Ras, then back forward.

Rinel does not so much as blink at the scream of fury that tears itself loose from Ras' throat. Indeed, she squeezes the man's shoulder as she steps forward. And though she speaks quietly, her voice is confident and firm.

"The Faith," says Rinel Tern, "is in error. The Church would have you believe the theologies of Marach the Apostate. But Aion is more than simple existence, as Marach posited, just as the Gods are more than the mere Concepts he promulgated. The Thirteenth is a principle of the world. A princple of reflection, as fundamental to the Dream as the cycle of seasons, the phases of the moon, the humours of

Rinel does not so much as blink at the scream of fury that tears itself loose from Ras' throat. Indeed, she squeezes the man's shoulder as she steps forward. And though she speaks quietly, her voice is confident and firm.

"The Faith," says Rinel Tern, "is in error. The Church would have you believe the theologies of Marach the Apostate. But Aion is more than simple existence, as Marach posited, just as the Gods are more than the mere Concepts he promulgated. The Thirteenth is a principle of the world. A princple of reflection, as fundamental to the Dream as the cycle of seasons, the phases of the moon, the humours of the body. The Thirteenth does not respond to prayers. The Thirteenth is the Dark Reflection of Aion, and unwitting progenitor of the Archfiends. The Church will not appoint an Archlector of the Dream--for we are all its disciples. Then I speak with my authority as a disciple: You do not heal the body by allowing it to fester. Do not heal your souls by tending to darkness. Do not cleanse this shrine by thinking of darkness. Ponder all that is beautiful, ponder all that connects us--and be glad. That is how the Dreamer is best praised."

And with that said, she leaves and moves to stand next to Vayne once more.

Vayne watches and listens as people take it in turn to add their voice - however melodious or not it happens to be - to the ritual. Ras' scream doesn't really faze the man, though one might be forgiven for wondering what /might/ faze the Archlector of Tehom.
Rinel's piece also doesn't seem to bother him in the least; in fact, there's a slight, smirking smile that tugs at Vayne's lips as Rinel expounds on her position, almost as though he... enjoyed it.
Once he's satisfied there are no more voices, he simply raises his hands - palm toward the assembly in a sort of blessing - and then says nothing at all, though his lips /do/ move. A moment of that, and his hands are lowered to his side and he steps back, letting Dianna wrap up the ritual.

Rukhnis seems to be far less sure how to take Rinel's pronouncement than Ras's scream -- if the other woman's words are in fact heresy, the Eurusi woman seems to neither know this nor care. She listens with mildly speculative interest, a faint crease between her eyebrows, and frowns more in thought than disapproval as she watches Rinel walk back to her place.

Dianna's lips just... press into a line. Her teeth set. She looks up to Vayne's eyes with certain lack of amusement and lowers her voice to Vayne.

Merek looks at Rinel in complete perplexion, and just rubs a gloved hand upon his features, spiky ponytail smoothed back with a sigh.

As the Archlector spoke, Ilsa finally allowed her eyes to open, gaze scanning the faces of those assembled, before her attention returned to that spot of dead grass in a sea of green.

Merek checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 0 higher.

Vayne nods to Dianna's comment and then he offers the other godsworn a soft response. Stepping back to the fore, Vayne says in that rich tone of his, "Go, friends. Go, knowing you have been a part of something important here. Your effort has made a difference today, and the Faith is grateful to you for your willingness to participate and to give of yourself. Go, in peace." And with that, the ritual concludes.

Ras exhales, lowering his head again - Rinel's squeeze to his shoulder shifts him easily, and he looks up to listen to her in somber silence. Strangely, something about him is almost reverent towards the freedom of the theologian's words - especially spoken in this place.

Nina is overheard praising Dianna: A lovely ritual

Merek is overheard praising Dianna.

Merek is overheard praising Vayne.

Merek is overheard praising Rukhnis.

Dianna checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 20, rolling 2 higher.

Merek is overheard praising Katarina.

Merek is overheard praising Ras.

Waldemai bows. "Archlector, sister," he acknowledges the hosts. Then he's off in the direction of Southport Square.

Dianna turns slowly to face Vayne, seemingly and suddenly unaware of everyone else in the room for a brief moment, her lips parting before she realizes herself. She closes her lips and takes a deep, audible breath, then turns towards the group. "Yes, thank you for coming," she expresses evenly, though her gaze does not meet anyone's eyes.

Evander is overheard praising Dianna.

Evander is overheard praising Vayne.

"Knowledge cannot be gained without destroying what ignorance clung to, Sister Godsworn," Rinel says softly. "A dear friend told me that once. I regret that the coming days will be uncomfortable ones--but it is long past time for truth to creep out from under the Apostate's centuries-long shadow." She rolls her fingers over Reminder's handle thoughtfully.

"Then again," the disgraced theologian muses, "Driskell Stillwater /was/ a demon."

Rukhnis's shoulders sag and her eyes dull a little from their short-lived glimmering, a long breath escaping her that's not quite a sigh as the ceremony is called to its close. She shifts a glance over at Ras and Rinel, seeming to assure herself of their distraction, and with a final surreptitious swiping of the back of her hand across damp cheeks, she slips quietly out of the shrine without any further word to anyone.

Ras checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 10 higher.

Vayne comments, "Only at the end," to Rinel's assertion about Driskell. There's a pause, and then he says, "I need to send a messenger in the near future. But before I do that, you and I should speak. I'll send word." And with that, Vayne heads off to do... whatever it is he does with his time. Something evil, no doubt, or hair-related maybe.

Nina looks to Rinel, hearing an odd comment that ... definitely strikes her. "Was he," she says, her gaze as vacant as it was before, somehow. Perhaps the smoke has gotten to her eyes.

Ilsa is overheard praising Dianna: 1

Ras knits his brow thoughtfully at Rinel, but he isn't so distracted as to fail to notice Rukhnis' departure. Jamming both hands into the pockets of his jacket, he ducks his head and skulks off.

Ilsa is overheard praising Vayne: 1

Ilsa is overheard praising Rukhnis: 1

Calmly, Dianna sets her gaze on Rinel's eyes, her voice even and still. "You have said enough here, Messere. You are invited to leave."

Vayne is overheard praising Dianna.

Ilsa is overheard praising Ras: 1

Chase, a Silent Reflection in grey hooded robes, 1 Templar Knight guards leave, following Vayne.

Ilsa is overheard praising Evander: 1

Ilsa is overheard praising Nina: 1

Merek looks to Dianna, "May I offer some personal prayers while I am here?" he asks.

Rinel taps Reminder thoughtfully on the floor of the shrine. "I knew a woman who was very possessive of this shrine, once," she says at last. "You remind me of her. Gods keep you, Sister Dianna. I am sure we shall meet again soon, when you are called as witness." And with a courteous bow to the Godsworn, Rinel limps out of the shrine.

What theological discussion was being had, if one could consider it such, Ilsa did not join in. Instead, she simply studied the woman who had chosen to speak, rathe than to sing, before she turned to offer Dianna a respectful curtsey and took her leave.

"The shrine is free to use, so long as you respect it, Sir Merek. Though, as I mentioned previously, Aion is not exactly one to whom one prays, though reflection upon your dreams, of course, are welcome," Dianna gently reminds Merek, visibly relaxing after Rinel has made her way out.

Evander looks thoughtfully after those that have departed, and after a moment, quietly slips out.

2 Kennex corsairs, Jaq, a solemn looking assistant leave, following Evander.



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