Denica enters the Shrine, taking a dutiful seat at a pew toward the back.

Valencia steps into the shrine, dark eyes quiet. She finds a seat in the back, head lowered, but listening.

The Shrine of the Thirteenth is deathly quiet, as it so often is. Acolytes and Silent Reflections can be seen moving from place to place, though many are beginning to either slip back into the inner chambers of the Shrine or settling in to observe what is about to begin. Standing before the altar, that dark jet slab that seems to be older than the rest of the building...ancient in fact, and reflecting the chamber in its polished surface. Just in front of this altar is a Mirrormasked woman clad in dark robes, her face obscured with that telltale reflective surface, a glimpse of red-gold hair braided in back the only clue as to who might be behind the shimmering mask. The Acolyte (for she does not wear the same vestments as the true Godsworn) waits for a few moments and then lets her voice, proud and clear, fill the chamber. "We are gathered here today to pay homage to the Thirteenth, the Dark Reflection. We shall do so with our thoughts and our words, and those who are willing and ready...through a deeper consideration of what it is that the Thirteenth does for mortal men, why He ought be valued by all of the Arvum."

Christine has a book under her arm when she enters the shrine. She looks around and looks for a free seat.

    Merek is dressed in his umbra-lined supple leathers and tunic, in addition to the cloak which he has on. He looks like a walking shadow almost with some crimson as well when he steps into the shrine, and moves to settle in at a seat, mostly by himself, while he listens to Vanora speak.

"I've opted to wear armour from now on, to hide the mangled state it is in. When I joust this evening, I expect if there is any poor showing, it will be because of said bone-crushing," Talen replies without even looking up, trained into knowing that voice, his lips only faintly moving as he talks. It's only then that he fixes his steely gaze on Blacktongue's face and utters: "You must've heard the other news as well then? Our son takes a familiar name."
When Vanora begins her ceremony, he refocuses forward, watching in a long stare.


    Cesare quietly interest into the Shrine of the Thirteenth. Today, he has no instrument carried as he goes and finds a seat. He sits somewhere in the middle of the small group of worshipers, curious and quiet as he listens and waits for all to be said.

Always full of curiosity, for good or ill, Quenia makes her way into the shrine to observe the ritual for the Thirteenth. Lyceum born, this is no unusual thing for her. She smiles and nods her head to the others already seated, and goes to find a place to sit herself.

The Mirrormask lifts her hand in signal, and suddenly a pair of Silent Reflections move about the shrine, offering lit black candles to those who have come to worship, unless the candles are refused. Her other hand lifts in signal and the doors to the Shrine close with an ominous thud, leaving the Shrine in darkness save the ritual candles being passed around. As this occurs, the Mirrormask moves towards the altar to light a brazier that sits upon it, murmuring prayers too soft to hear before turning back to focus her attention on those gathered again. "Tehom does much for us, if we take the time to allow Him to. He would see us master our weaknesses and our passions, eliminating what does us disservice while honing and embracing what makes us stronger. Today we will focus on a particular passion...the passion of Envy. It is a strong emotion, one that we all fall under at some point in our lives, yet it holds us back just as chains do. Today we will reflect on our own feelings of Envy, past or present, and through prayer and discussion learn how we can turn that jealousy into something positive, something that will make us stronger, better, and more true to ourselves. You are being offered candles that might be used in this ritual. If you are uncertain, do not take one. If you are ready to embrace your own Dark Reflection, accept the candle and hold it carefully before you. Soon you will know what to do with it."

"I will have to kindly thank your wife for the spectacle. If you need help turning the tide, let me know. As for his name, you make an old man have heart again." Blacktongue reassures Talen with a black gloved hand placed over the heart. He falls silent as the Mirrormask speaks, sharp eyes darting to the front of the temple and its altar.

When one of the candles comes by, Merek reaches to take it into his hands, while he looks at it for a moment. He seems to consider, while he listens to Vanora, and seems focused upon the sermon.

Talen extends his reach to take a candle, wordlessly holding it for the moment, his expression relatively brooding as it often is when in its natural state. "You, a heart? Please. We all know it's improbable, if not possible and I already lost one bet this week. I was almost certain it'd be a girl. Now I owe Eleyna 10,000 silver." With a exhaust of frustration from his nose, he then awaits instruction for his participation in honouring his Reflection.

if not impossible*

Christine considers the candles when they get close. She glances the book she has, but she picks one, listening.

Quenia settles near to Valencia, recognizing the Princess of Velenosa from the other night at the Golden Hart. She takes one of the pro-offered candles and clasps it delicately in her hands. She furrows her brow somewhat as she thinks on the sermon, settling back in her seat and thinking to things of the past.


    Cesare looks quietly to a candle as it passes by- taking it and focusing on the dancing flame. Still, he remains silent- the reflection of that same flame dancing in the reflection in his eyes.

    Denica quietly accepts a candle as one is offered, considering it only momentarily until she starts to artistically carve into the wax with her thumbnail while listening to the Acolyte deliver her sermon.

Blacktongue takes a candle and with a lift of his brows he glances at Talen out of the corner of his eyes as he recites, "Complications are rare and few, for the heart of a fool is nothing new. Easily swayed, easily slayed, easily forgotten. It is as sweet as it is rotten." A smirk. "Do not take that silver out of my House funds."

After the black, flame-lit candles have been distributed by the Silent Sisters, the Mirrormask steps forward slightly as she begins to speak again. "Envy. Jealousy. These are among the feelings we call 'Passions' because they are oft passionate in nature. They are strong feelings, and at times feelings that overcome us...that push rational thought away that they might take the stage. I speak on this Passion today because it is one I can identify with strongly myself. I am a creature shaped in part by Envy, but through Tehom I was able to turn that Envy into something else. Ambition. You will forgive my anecdote as I provide it to help you, congregants, identify Envy and its power in your own lives." A pause then, a deep breath, and the flame-lit Acolyte continues. "When I was but a child, a cousin whom I counted as friend and companion was blessed in a way that I had never been. She became the center of attention for a very long time in manners I would have liked to hold attention. Though I was but a child, this Envy settled in me, like swallowing a stone. I loved her and yet hated her for having what I wished I could have. It is through Tehom's teachings, through serving and studying Him, that I was able to change the nature of that passionate feeling. Instead of hating her for having what I wanted...being what I wanted...I decided to learn from her. She became a mentor, and the things I envied her for as a child I was able to hone in myself. You see, Dark Passions can be turned into other emotions, useful emotions. My Envy became Ambition, and it was that turning point that helped me appreciate the nature of the Dark Reflection. We must be able to confront the darkest parts of the self in order to rise above them or use them to our advantage." A pause. "I want all of you now to silently reflect on your own lives, your own emotions. Connect to a time that you felt Envy, or to Envy you feel now. Consider how you might hone that Envy in a way that is useful to you, instead of a chain holding you back. Look into the flame, and into the mirrors all around reflecting the flame, as you meditate. When you have reached your conclusion...blow your candle out."

"Why not? I'm family. I'll pay you back," Talen says with a tone of voice that bespeaks of his privilege. "Honestly, I'm just going to add it to the tab of what I owe her at this point, it's becoming a game of how much I can rack up in debt before she claims it in blood or something." With a slight shift to get comfortable, the creak of his armour's hide interrupts the silence he would have otherwise created by ceasing to speak for the next few moments. "I've got this one on lock, have you?" he asks of his uncle, chin ticking up toward the acolyte and her remarks, before he lapses into revery for a lengthy time.

Valencia blinks as if waking as Quenia takes a seat. She offers a little nod of greeting and a weak smile, before turning back to the service, adjusting her seat.

    The little Thrax princess pauses, lips pursed. As though she might be prepared to laugh at the most inappropriate time. She looks down, focusing on the flickering flame of the candle in her hands very carefully. Starting, studying the flame. She flicks her fingers through it, contemplatively. That brush of heat making the lesson of envy a tangible thing. Denica nods to herself and blows her candle out.

    Merek looks at the candle for a moment, and seems to consider it, while he tilts his head to the side a bit. He then just blows his candle out after less than a few seconds. For what reason, is hard to tell, but he looks fairly sure of himself for the time being. He then frowns a bit.

Dante steps into the Shrine, pausing to inspect his reflection in the mirrors along the corridor, straightening out his armor before continuing to take a place near the back as the ritual has already started.

Quenia nibbles the corner of her right lip as she continues to think on things. She watches the flame dance to and fro, to and fro, then looks up at the mirrors when attention is called to them, before glancing back down to her candle. After a time, she pulls it toward herself and blows it out. There's a sad cant to her eyes when she does.

Christine smirks as she looks at her candle, after listening quietly to the explanation. She blows it, a weak, playful blow that only kills the fire at the second attempt.


    Still in silence, Cesare looks at the flame. Quiet, the man of music looks at the flames- its a difficult thing to find his 'Envy'. All he has ever wanted is music. He has his music. No one can take it from him...

    Cesare still stares into the flame. Quiet. He stares onward. What does someone have that he wants, but doesn't have. His eyebrows furrow. He continues to stare into the flame.

Valencia looks into the flames a long while. She holds her hand over the flame, idly playing with it, testing it. There is a little frown and she closes her palm over it, crushing the light with a delicate hand.

Blacktongue snuffs his candle's flame between two fingers rather than blow it out. "You're family, yes, but so are your cousins by that definition." and he leaves it there in the point he makes to Talen.

Talen's inward consideration comes to a close, punctuated by a short, sharp blow on the candle he holds. Pressing the softer edges of wax inward to leave an impression of his closed fist, the length is then set aside. With a breath inward, he then throws off the silence that wraps him, looking to Blacktongue. "I really should just fund a Thrax venture south for raiding, then hopefully they'll come back with profits to share with you. Our friends are _really_ good at that, you know." With a glance over his shoulder, he looks toward the door, only to spy a familiar face and so said individual is given an upnod.

    Merek frowns a bit as he looks aside at something he overhears, but instead decides to focus on the candle, while he flicks his finger around the wick, then takes out a flint striker to light it once more, and places it back in his belt, before he looks at the new flame.

    "They are," Denica speaks up very quietly when she hears mention of her family's name. Her eyes drop back down, facing forward.

While she waits for the ritual to continue, Christine takes a couple of drops of warm wax between her fingers. She rubs it into a small ball as she looks around at the other people.

As candles are blown out throughout the Shrine, the closed doors mean that the brazier in front on the alter is the only light left. Plenty of darkness to feed the imagery of Dark Reflections. Though some might stay lit as congregants ponder, the Mirrormasked redhead begins to speak again. "Some of you may find yourselves struggling...may feel that you want for nothing and be unable to find a time you envied. Look back as long as you wish, find the innocent envy of a child in your memories if you can. If there is nothing, then hold onto your candle." At that point Silent Reflections again move about the room. Two collect the snuffed candles, which appear to be most of them. One however searches for those still lit, offering to take them if the congregant holding the candle does not seem to be pondering but rather ready to pass it onward with the flame still burning. As they do so, the Mirrormask continues to speak. "Most of us have seen the Envy or Jealousy we hold within, and now reflected upon it and resolved to use it to make us stronger. Those who have not done so, be at ease. Tehom sees the duality within us all, and blesses us for it. Thus now, we meditate on that very thing...on this oft ignored or feared God who gives us such gifts." A pause and then she lifts her voice in what appears to be a communal prayer, one others can join as they please, or listen to instead. "We thank You, our Dark Reflection, for the wisdom You grant us, for the inner and outer strength you push us towards again and again, even if we do not feel ready. We acknowledge you for allowing us to see our True Selves and thus improve them. We praise You for always ensuring that improvement, whether through times of comfort and peace, or of challenge. Thanks unto you, Tehom, the Thirteenth, the Dark Reflection. Now and always." As the prayer concludes another Silent Reflection opens the doors again, letting natural light once more fill the chamber, and implying the ritual and sermon are complete.

The Mirrormask who conducted the Rite then steps down from the altar among the people, and removes her mask to reveal a face familiar to some but not others. "I will remain here for anyone who wishes to ask questions regarding the ritual today, or Tehom's teachings in general. Or to discuss, or to debate...may we all learn from one another."

Talen is overheard praising Vanora for: An advocate of the Thirteenth is commendable in my book.

Valencia offers another little smile to Quenia and incline of head and then silently rises and moves up the aisle to the entrance of the shrine with a rustle of silk.

"Praise to the Dark Reflection." Blacktongue echoes the sentiment as he leaves his candle in the pew for some acolyte to collect whenever. "Extremely good at it, I concur. How much does a Thrall go for these days?" a jest, surely.

Talen has his moment of consideration for the debriefing, as it were, his attention only drifting from time to time. In the end, he leans over and murmurs a few words regarding the acolyte to Blacktongue, audible enough by those nearby. They're not exactly scathing, so that's likely a good thing from Talen. To his uncle, he replies: "You wouldn't hire a Thrall. You'd pay the sailors and reavers and get a good warship," insists the Sword of Lenosia.


    It took some time. Long moments. Cesare takes a slow breath before he exhales, finally, he hands the lit candle over to the passing acolyte- he remains seated, however, when the light washes over the crowd again. Sitting. Quiet. Contemplative.