Glorious Home

[Nephrite]

Moore nods politely as he turns to Sulia and gestures at it with a smile.

"Yes, Empress. I addressed it to Morniel, who should still be serving as Aurora's diplomatic advisor and general counsel. There should be no issues with further establishing diplomatic ties with them and requesting golemancy work be done."

He turns back to Villisa and offers a sincere smile. "I'm certain that even now she bolsters your spirits in a way even I could never hope to match." He clears his throat politely afterwards. "Ah, if the third child is equally as painful to talk about, please don't feel the need -- I apologize for prying." 

[Anastasia]

It is Cresiel who speaks up, "We are immortal, but we are not free of loss." His voice is quiet as he speaks, but powerful and resonant nonetheless, filling the air. "We are not maimed as those victims of Shar's vile clergy are, but we suffer our wounds. Mortals pass on, becoming something new and forget our bonds forged in mortal life. Immortals pass into true glory above us," Cresiel's gaze goes up, as if the light of Chronias could be seen even here, "And are lost to us for a long season. Others...do not have a miracle happen and are lost to unspeakable places below, and one can only pray that they find the escape of true death somehow."

As Cresiel speaks, you feel a connection to him. It is bright, warm, strength filling you.

"Yet like them, there are seasons for loss and seasons for healing. What is lost may well never be found, but there is more to be found beyond a loss. There is always more. That is what keeps us going."

Cresiel satisfied a node goal and is updated, so go check that out.

[Nephrite]

So noted.

Moore briefly glances over at Sulia before he looks back to Cresiel.

Could Sulia's presence be somehow bringing this sort of thing out of them...? He puts a hand on his chest for a moment and nods to himself.

He offers a smile.

"Trust me, I understand what you mean. When I was able to be in the presence of the tree of Yggdrasil, I was overwhelmed by the whole... ah, process." Moore says. "Still, despite your obvious differences, it's good to see you both agree on certain things. That's the way I think myself about a lot of things. Ah... so, about your father then, I take it he's in Celestia somewhere?" Moore asks in Cresiel's direction.

[Anastasia]

Cresiel is silent for several moments, Sulia's gaze on both of you. Ultimately Cresiel nods, "Yes, my father is Romiel, a solar who lives on Lunia. He oversees many and varied duties, and recently lead a crusade to Avernus."

"A successful one," Martan notes, "I've heard the stories. That was the first real appearance of Seira and Alicia on the planes, was it not?"

To this Empress Sulia chimes in, "Yes, it was. Their coming out party, one may say."

[Nephrite]

Moore nods. "I'll have to introduce myself to him sometime. I don't think he'd make the same connection between us your mother did, though, I'm afraid..." He offers a smile at Villisa.

A clear of his throat afterwards. "At any rate, I'm sure we've impressed upon your hospitality enough for the time being, Empress. I should probably head back before Grias starts to worry about everything. If you'd like to stay for a bit to catch up, by all means."

[Anastasia]

"Oh no, I believe we can go now," Cresiel says, rising, "Thank you, Empress," he bows deeply, "An honor to meet you, Martan." A look to Villisa, a pause before he simply says, "Mother."

Empress Sulia nods, Martan smiles and Villisa...just returns his look. "Oh yes, mother me. Because I'm serious about coming to visit Moore. Moore, kindly prepare  me a permanent guest room, for I plan to visit often enough to make it a requirement."

"As you like, mother," Cresiel says, then with perhaps the faintest smile, "Until then."

[Nephrite]

Moore just offers a merry laugh. "I'll make sure it's taken care of when I return." He offers a bow to her. "Empress, thank you again. If you have any need of my services, please don't hesitate to reach out, either via magic or more mundane methods." He smiles again.

He will bow a final time before he takes his leave with Cresiel!

Once a sufficient distance away, he will give him a pat on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I think that about does it for anything of much excitement that could happen here for us on this trip, though, don't you agree?" He asks.

[Anastasia]

"I believe so, but yet again - you felt that?" Cresiel asks, turning his gaze to you, looming over you by sheer dint of height.

[Nephrite]

"Yes." Moore says with a nod. "It seems like... mm. It seems like something is happening ... I would be remiss to say that Chronias being brighter didn't have at least some relation to it. Whether it's actually an effect of that or both... circumstances are simply a byproduct of something else..." He shakes his head.

"I'm sure we'll find out eventually, but for now it seems like we should strive to continue to forge bonds with each other. Ah... we don't have to tell your mother about it, though." He offers Cresiel a cheeky smile.

"Hmm, I'll have to ask Illsenine if she's noticed anything similar happening, I wonder how widespread the effect is." Moore hums once.

[Anastasia]

Cresiel merely nods at that and from there...

Any other todos in Brightwater?

[Nephrite]

Nope, we've had enough fun for one day. Time to return Home.

[Anastasia]

When you plane shift back, you simply are not awake.

You awaken.

How curious. Instead of Lunia, you lie on a thin layer of snow, besides a babbling brook with bits of ice floating down it. Sitting on a boulder by the stream is Erathaol, no sense of presence for him. For he instead is intent on the stream, watching it.

There's no sign of Cresiel, for that matter. You remember going to return home, then you're waking up here.

[Nephrite]

Yeah, it's about that time, isn't it? Regardless, he knows in his heart what his answers are to all of this...

Moore regardless pulls himself to his feet and dusts some of the snow off before he flies over to sit down next to Erathaol.

[Anastasia]

Wordlessly, Erathaol gestures at the stream, hand open as he brings your gaze to it.

In the waters you can see images - your battle with Makim, your fall. Makim above you in darkness, magic weaving into your mind, seen as dozens of eyes observing you from all over.

Then in the water, images refract off one another, countless paths forward.

In one, Makim murmurs, "21," then vanishes, leaving you never to awaken. Makim is never seen again in this Creation.

Another refraction. In this one a dapper, athletic fiend shakes Makim's hand, as your unconscious body is carried away by servants. You are never again seen in this Creation.

Yet another refraction. Makim stands amid Aurora, the defenders defeated to the last. Elena screams at him, crying...and she is ignored, as Makim travels to Medi's quarters before Aurora vanishes. Aurora is never again seen in this Creation.

A fourth refraction. Makim stands before an angel of fire and fury, withstanding all of his endless hatred. Instead he presents something in his hand...and the angel is never again seen in this Creation.

A fifth. A seventh. A tenth. A one hundredth. A one thousandth. Ten thousand. A hundred thousand. Ten million. Ten billion. A hundred trillion.

Voice barely a whisper, "Look on the prism of what may be, all that could spring from one event, one person gaining knowledge they never should have." Erathaol states. "You know much, Moore, and you will in time learn far more."

The stream continues to flow.

Makim sits alone in darkness. He ponders, "Morwel, eh," he murmurs aloud, inspecting his wine glass, seemingly lost in reflecting on it. "Let's bring this to the light, Titania."

A hundred million futures. Makim slays the celestials who ask him to hold his tongue. On occasion he is slain by the Children of Liberty in self defense, great battles that shake his entire demi plane. Occasions where Makim succeeds, fey revolt. War. Old bonds reexamined, reevaluated. Wars of good and evil spilling to the prime, fey courts thrust into a new age of violence and bloodshed.

The stream continues to flow.

Makim. Sehanine Moonbow. The Yggdrasil looms on the horizon. In some, she stands aside and he reaches the Yggdrasil, its magic studied. In others they battle, terrible conflicts that shatter the puzzling manor he emerged from.

The stream continues to flow.

The Eye of Shar looms high in the sky, darkness enveloping all.

"Not all have the wisdom to act responsibly with what you  know," Erathaol says, "The future is ever uncertain until it happens. Perhaps Makim will use wisdom, perhaps he will not. Another may not be so wise nor so merciful."

[Nephrite]

He's about to open his mouth, before he just smiles. "I don't need to defend my actions because you already know why I did what I did." Moore says, not sounding upset -- or resentful, or anything. Only honest.

He takes a breath. "Regardless of how I feel about it, I still recognize what could have been, though you know I still believe in the futures where he will be an ally." He turns to Erathaol and offers a sincere smile. "It's naive, I know. But the experiences that've shaped my life are now part of him -- the good things you've helped me accomplish. I don't think someone who knows everything that I do can still stay out of this conflict and let Shar win."

He turns to look back at the stream. "Nonetheless, I will accept responsibility for my actions. Whatever I need to do, I'll make amends, whether it takes me the rest of my lifetime or the rest of my soul's investment."