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[Kavala]

Mid Spring, 514 AV
The Twenty Fourth Bell Of Night

It was the powerful bell just before the day turned, replacing the old one with the new. Leth was full, floating somewhere above them unseen, something Kavala had planned for Caelum's pleasure. Normally she'd hold a ritual outside in the moonlight for just that reason, but tonight was not about Leth. It was indeed about Nyself and his followers. Tonight, as far as Kavala knew, they would be bringing something back that was long overdue in the world: The Cytali.

But when someone brought forth the new, they often had to shed the old. And to that end, Kavala had gathered what she needed for her own personal pre-ritual and went to the beach. She wasn't due to meet the others until it was the cusp of the new day. So it was to the sea she went, bathing in the salt waters that were so healing and blessing to her race. Then, once her body was physically clean, there was something else that was in need of cleaning... her heart.

She sat quietly, nude, in Leth's light and summoned her res. As the djed converted to the substance within her hands, she pooled the power and transformed it to stone. A black box formed in her hands, one etched with a hundred promises broken and a hundred potentials unrecognized. She carefully sat the box down in front of her in the moonlight and then reached into the small pack she'd carried out to the surf with her. Out of it she pulled a lock of hair. It was the pale hair of Tasival's father. Hatot. He'd died too young. She bowed her head, laying the hair into her box and reached back into the pack and pulled another lock out. This hair was darker, belonging to a human she'd loved despite the fact that he would not give her his heart because she was not human. She quietly whispered Ronan's name and laid the lock in the box as well. Cugacon's hair was next, never removed from the bloody cloth it was wrapped in. The cloth held her blood and was something she kept to remind her of how hurt she'd been when he'd brutalized her. Then finally she pulled a dark lock of Riaris' hair from the pack and laid it alongside the others in the box. Each man she'd loved. None of them had loved her back. They'd instead damaged her in one way or another, a hurt she'd long carried with her with no need, no reason, other than she could not let go.

Tonight was time to let go. There was more love in her life now than she could ever imagine having. Her brother was here. Caelum was here. And both men she loved more than life itself. She had three beautiful children, and a niece and nephew that meant the world to her. She had Reven and Xira and all the family that had grown around her. There was no need to hold on to old wounds. There was no need to dwell on failures. Kavala took the box and filled it with locks of hair from all of the rest of them, hair that overwhelmed the first few strands she'd put in there. She even added hair from their father and hair from Akela and the rest of the Denusks that had been done. All her life she'd saved things like that. She even added a small cloth full of hair she'd saved from her time in Mura and someone she'd met there. All of it went into the box. And then with her res she formed a lid for it. She placed the lid carefully on the box then picked up the whole of the box.

In her hands, swelling with power, it melted and reshaped under her grasp. Her fingers worked the stone like a metalsmith would work metal, forming the deep black box into something gleaming and glittering and deadly. It was a thing unlike she'd ever seen before. It would part flesh without hesitation, yet it wasn't indestructible like metal would be. The stone was most like obsidian, though it only shown translucent when held up to the light. And then, with it in her hands, completed and etched with Drykas Runes, Kavala began to speak.

I lost myself
Somewhere between
The dawn and dusk.

Somewhere,
In serving you
I lost my self-worth.

Somewhere,
In trying to survive
I sold what gave the days meaning.

Somewhere,
In seeking the truth
I discovered the extent of lies.

Somewhere,
While needing your love
I altered myself to gain embrace.

Somewhere,
In needing to believe,
I let myself be deceived.

Somewhere,
While telling my story to you
Your fictions became my biology.

Yet somewhere,
Sometime…somehow
I found myself
There, in-between
Sunset and sunrise.

There,
In the dark,
When your light
Was no longer upon me,
I could see myself.

There,
In the silence
That opened while you slept,
I could hear myself.

There,
In the solitude,
Detoxified of that need for your touch,
I could feel myself.

There,
In the gulf between worlds
Where body and Being are in harmony,
I remembered the whole of what I am.

There,
In the absence of desperation,
I gave myself the freedom to be
And came to love what lies within.

There,
In the absence of desperation,
I gave myself the freedom to be
And came to love what lies within

When she was done, she rose, not bothering to sheath the strange weapon, and walked up the beach with her pack. It was time to meet the others in the Sacred Circle. It was time to birth the Cytali back into the world.

She'd asked the others to join her at the first bell, having fasted and bathed and wearing nothing but what they were born into. Kavala had the alter all set up to Nysel and the room was strewn with candles that left the whole of the sacred circle dark except around Nysel's statue which glowed with their devotion.

A pile of glittering cloth was stacked on one side of the alter. While she waited for the others to appear, Kavala rubbed a spiced oil into her skin and took up a delicate brush. She painted symbols of Nysel up and down her arms and legs and across the colorbone of her chest. His all-seeing eye, keys and locks, and a thousand swirls that represented dreams and nightmares and more importantly the chavi on the chavena.

Tonight, as they filed in, she'd begin the ritual and one after another she'd ask them to become someone else, someone deeper, and join a cause that was as old as time itself. Kavala herself stood naked before the alter, ready to lead the rites.

As the other's entered, Kavala greeted them, first with the knife she'd just created less than a bell ago. She would press it into their bare chest and challenge them. "You enter the temple today as the name you have given us and the person you believe yourself to be. That will not remain the same. Today, if you walk forward, cross the threshold and enter, you will assume another name and become someone else; someone better, more powerful, more whole. This is a privilege and a burden. Come forward only if you are willing to make these changes and join us in a cause that has never been overshadowed by something greater." The Konti said firmly, her body glittering with the oils she'd rubbed into her skin and the patterns of Nysel's symbols she'd painted onto her flesh.

She would let them say their piece, then hand them the dagger so they could in turn challenge her as they saw fit - as their temporary leader and priestess of the night.

[Vanator]

When evening fell, Reven and Vanator retired to their suite, the bondmates spending a few quite bells together. There were no words spoken of the pending ritual, for neither knew what to expect, but a serene, sober air lingered over the room. The man and Kelvic made love, lay holding each other in the bed for a bell, then agreed to prepare for the induction alone, to ready themselves physically and mentally.

Vanator had dressed and grabbed the minimal amount of gear. Slipping up top, the Drykas met up with Sirroco and strapped the yvas around the Strider. Vaunting onto the stallion's back, Van rode out the gates beneath the white glow of Leth's full moon. The Ankal would have chastised any of the others for riding out at night alone, but the seasoned Drykas felt the need to connect to something significant to ground him. He was compelled to make the short ride through the forest to the open grasslands.

Sirroco didn't mind a bit, his gait jaunty as they cleared the forest edge and the expanse of the Sea of Grass spread out before them in the moonlight. Van drew the horse to a halt. Careful eyes drew focus until the strands of the great Web illuminated in lines across the landscape. His djed shifted within him, and the Drykas felt out into the nearby threads. There was no indication of danger, predator or otherwise. For a long moment, the Denusk marveled at the beauty of the softly glowing web, and felt the twinge of the pull, the lure to enter and walk the strands, a world of knowledge and life humming through the lines. Once, he had longed to roam the Web, to seek the family he knew were gone, his parents, wives, the baby boy that would be his heir. Maybe he would find their souls there. But no longer would Vanator desire to search. The past was just that.

Reaching into a pouch tied to the yvas, Van pulled out a bundled cloth. Carefully unwrapping it, the contents shone a cold yellow in the moonlight. It was a torc fashioned of gold, a gift from Sybel. Once his family was gone, dead, his cousin Delani appeared, then left them to sail across the sea to some dead city, only Sybel remained of his old life. When she left him the past season, Vanator closed the door to his life before. Spring had begun with a new life for him. He was called of the Dreamer, he had found joy and love in Reven, and later that very night, he would become part of an ancient purpose with the most beloved people in his life.

Vanator let the torc slip from his fingers to land in the fresh green grass, the cloth allowed to flutter away on the cool night air. As fingers touched the necklace around his neck that Reven had given him, dark, pensive eyes were cast again to the plains swallowed into darkness. Once, Vanator believed there was nothing for him beyond the horizon of the Sea of Grass. Now, his horizons reached the Ukalas.

With a laugh, Vanator suddenly kicked Sirroco into a gallop, urging the strong Strider stallion into a djed-fueled run. They streaked across the grass at breakneck speed, the mane of both man and beast flowing behind them. It was a simple pleasure both Van and Sirroco indulged in, a moment of freedom with no strings but gravity attached.

-----

Vanator had made his bath a time to settle his heart and soul. The warm water soothed his muscles, washing away the soil of the day, the scents of horses and children and Reven, all comforting and pleasing to the Drykas. But that evening would be about the induction, and he wished to enter it with nothing literally than his own skin, as Kavala instructed. So he washed his body clean, and anointed himself with aromatic oils that smelled of the herbs and spices of the grasslands, his hair cleansed, towel dried and combed straight. There were females living at the Sanctuary whom could be offended by his nakedness, but the tunnel from the bath to the Sacred Circle passed only through the training room, so Van left his robe hanging in the bath chamber. Not even Reven's necklace adorned him as the Ankal padded down the passage to the sacred room.

Vanator entered the chamber, a place he held truly sacred since the ritual in which Kavala had introduced him to the gods and goddesses of Sanctuary, then shared her res with him. It was that night that the first whispers of a greater service to Nysel were heard. Since then, Vanator regularly made offerings to the deities represented around the room, aside from Ivak.

Kavala greeted her brother with the tip of an elegant blade pressed to his chest. There was no shame between the siblings over their nakedness. That night, Kavala was not his sister, she again became his priestess. The tip of the unfamiliar knife met his skin near the scar over his heart, it had been made by Kavala's blade. She had a matching surgical scar near one of her breasts, made by him, as part of the induction of res to his body. Van's torso was a testament to his life, in a way. Three lacun marks over his sternum memorialized three lost loves. That scar over his heart marking the sharing of power and devotion with his beloved sister. The myriad of smaller scars left by lions, Zith and metal blades told of countless battles. And the fresh lines of red welts left by the passionate cougar that shared his bed displayed the new love he had found.

Sober gold-flecked eyes met the sincere cerulean of the Konti as she spoke her charge to Vanator. The Drykas took them with great reverence, seeing in Kavala's utterances the answer to many questions, a call to his willingness to step into the new world he had found. He was ready, more than ready. Vanator was not becoming Cytali, he was returning to it. He just happened to be a few lives late.

When his beautiful sister's final word was spoken, Van met her deep gaze. "I walk willingly into this chamber, aware of the significance it brings. I only wait to reveal what has been waiting, waiting to come alive inside, to uncover what I have always been, hidden beneath a hide of leather and horsehair and tradition, and the confines of my own disbelief. I bear the mark, I know I am he whom I do not yet know. I am ready for him, me, to take his place in this world and time."

Kavala turned the knife in her hand, the handle jutting towards Vanator. With a glance, he understood and took the dagger, pressing it to his sister's scintillating chest. Again, his gaze fixed upon hers. "Kavala, you must rise about what we see. Sister, friend, boss, mother, aunt. In these capacities you excel and are loved. But our calling demands more of you, more than any of us. On your precious shoulders, you must breath life into that which has been asleep for ages. He called you to take this mantle. Wear it with the strength and grace I know you can. I beg his hand will lead you. As for me, my hands will always lift you up, will carry you when your strength wanes, defend you when others aim to spill your blood, hold you when your heart is heavy. Be my priestess, lead us, Kavala."

Vanator turned the knife again, handle offered to the Konti. His gaze lingered for a moment on the blue of Kavala's hoping to express in a glance the deep sincerity of his words. Then the Drykas entered the round chamber, soflty walking to the illuminated altar of Nysel and offering quiet reverences to the god.

[Reven Heath]

Dark skies illuminated by Leth's moon shined down upon the Sanctuary as the bondmates returned to their chamber, anticipation cycling through both beings yet neither spoke of its cause. Cytali's initiation ritual would occur in a few bells, an induction ceremony which Reven was to be apart of along with Vanator, connected to him in yet another way she didn't full understand but craved for regardless. This ceremony wasn't just a connection with him alone, but with others, people who the Kelvic already considered family. Over the past season, she was able to learn, love, and grow. Reven was able to bond, make friendships, and find purpose in the world. Kavala had been the catalyst with her invitation of residency at the Sanctuary, which the cougar would always be indebted to her, but it was Vanator who took hold of her, captured her heart, and brought her into a new life Reven never thought she'd experience.

They tangled up together, expressed their passionate love for the other, and basked in the silence soon after. She understood the importance of the ritual, knew that mental and physical preparation was needed in order to fully accept what would become of them once Syna showed her light. Reven knew tonight was special, she could sense the intensity of the ceremony in the air, as if the emotion was nearly tangible and she could grasp it. Vanator needed to be alone and with a parting kiss, the feline watched him leave, mulling over her own past endeavors. Life had changed so much for the young Kelvic. She had developed in ways she never expected, had helped others despite her introverted personality, had branched out with her skill, and she'd learned many lessons. Through all of this, the cougar could not shake the depression eating away inside her from the knowledge of her heritage.

Tonight was a night to let go of the past because it was simply that: the past. Reven couldn't change it, no matter how much she wished for the past to alter itself. Sadly, she couldn't release it from her heart either. Sitting alone in silence, the Kelvic soon reached out for a particular pile of furs tucked away in a corner of the suite. Maneuvering the skins, Reven produced a small stack of letters from the pile, letters that had been sent from Mutaldi but never opened. The cougar didn't want to glance upon apologetic words, writing meant to persuade her to appreciate the woman for what she had done. Keeping the truth from her. Lying to her. Meaning to ruin her when she was older. Reven couldn't forgive this.

Maybe it was because she was young, or the fact that the only mother figure in her life had manipulated her, but were Mutaldi's actions and lies for the better? If she had not pushed for the information, Reven would still think she was the daughter of traders who had disappeared. Was this the pleasant ignorance she should have stayed captive to? No, no... She needed to know. The cougar's worth was important to her, her blood, her name, it was the small sliver of hope that kept her going when she was by herself. Reven wanted to know if she was more than what she was discriminated as being. Naive in her ways, the feline wasn't expecting such damaging information and so, hid it like a dirty secret away from the world. What would they think? What would they say? Her heritage was another weapon to use against her but she would not have it...

Her feelings were passionate, blazing inside her like an inferno of anger as she stared upon the letters. This was a time of preparation, to console one's self and forgive, let go, purify underneath sacred light for a new time was coming, change, spiritual rebirth. Reven couldn't think like this, she needed to let go of her anger just as she needed to let go of her pain and the letters. For tonight, she would be at peace.

Slipping from the bed, Reven clothed her bruised, naked body in a light tunic and cotton pants, slipping on her boots before leaving the suite with letters in hand. She traveled out of the within, moving quickly so the cougar would not bother the other animals as she made her way to the cliff face, through the Sanctuary and its main gates. The wind had picked up at this point, weaving through her brown tresses as strands floated loosely around her face. Making her way to her usual spot, Reven sat upon the grass, looking out onto the sea with a somber expression. Hazel eyes watched the waves as they rippled in the distance, the only light giving detail to their fall being the full moon above. It was the perfect night, it seemed. The air was warm, moist while the breeze pushed against her love touched skin, cooling the marks, welts, and bruises passion had exerted on her.

The Kelvic sat there for many chimes, listening, watching, calming herself, trying to let go. Slowly, her mind eased, allow dark thoughts to fall away in the night air. Then, she took the letters and tore them up, shredded them, made sure the parchment was finely cut apart before releasing the paper shreds, allowing the wind to carry them away. Reven tore the letters apart because it didn't matter what her caretaker told her. Mutaldi would always be family. It would take time to rekindle what was lost but the feline accepted that and her anger, she allowed it to fall away from her and, like the shreds of parchment, relinquished all thoughts to the wind and the moon above. Tonight, she would be called to a higher place...

Reven departed for the bathing chambers soon after. Earlier in the day, she had been instructed to cleanse herself and arrive naked to the circle when prepared. It didn't bother her, displaying her body to the eyes of others. One is born nude, natural to the world and often times, Reven found it humorous that others frowned upon nudity in such a way, even perplexing. Humans were confusing at times, that's why it was more than difficult for the Kelvic to act like one. Sometimes, instinct called to her more than civilized behavior.

Arriving to the chambers, she didn't take long scrubbing her tanned skin clean, washing her hair with lightly scented soaps, making sure to clean herself well enough yet still retain her natural, pleasant scent. The Kelvic relaxed in the warm waters for only a brief moment before rising from them and drying off. It was time now and she was ready. Her heart thudded nervously inside her, anxious for the ceremony and initiation. The bond was softly rippling with gleeful emotions, coming to life as she felt Vanator slowly returning to the area. Reven smiled, her wet, brushed hair sliding over her shoulders as she shook her head. He was ready to take hold of the same commitment.

Warm air drifted throughout the Within as the Kelvic ventured off to the Sacred circle. With each soft pad of her barefeet against the stone ground, Reven felt her shoulders straighten, her mind clear, her heart racing yet her entire being was calm, collected. In a few short ticks, the cougar made it to the entrance of the room. It was dark, the only light in the room cast from numerous candles lit around a familiar statue. Nysel's statue. On the alter, hazel eyes could see shimmering fabric, glittering with brilliance against the yellow hue of the flame. Then her gaze landed on the Konti woman, naked before her and shimmering in much of the same way as the cloth. For a moment, she couldn't help but analyze the markings on the woman's body. Kavala was covered in patches of scales, like a fish out of water, glistening and glowing in a way that mystified the young woman. It was the first time she gazed upon her friend fully natural before her, giving way to a larger part of markings Reven never knew hide under her garb. With childlike curiosity, she wanted to reach out and touch the markings, to examine the texture, but she kept to herself. It was obvious the cougar was taken back by Kavala, by the beauty she radiated. Reven stepped quietly to her as she was met with a blade to her heart.

Kavala looked upon her with shinning blue eyes, firm, challenging the cougar. Instinct flared up causing her to stand taller, reflecting the same emotion back to the Konti but also, commitment and trust. Loyalty. “I believed myself to be less than what you see me as today,” She admitted after Kavala finished speaking, “That has changed. I have always craved to be more than what I am, to be capable beyond what I am presumed to be. Those ambitions have not changed yet, I am given more reason to pursue them further. With new light and guidance, your light and guidance, and of the powers above and the people before me, I know I can accomplished these things. I give myself over, not as the person I was but the person I will be: stronger and able to take on this blessing and burden. There will always be challenges ahead and obstacles to overcome but my commitment will never sway. My fate has always been tied to this just as yours has and together, we will face the tasks ahead.” Reven answered, her voice full of promise and truth.

Then the dagger found its place within her palm and in the same fashion, the Kelvic held it up to Kavala, her eyes locked on hers. “You mean more to me than you know and there is only one who will ever understand that. Now, Kavala, I place within your hands my trust, my loyalty, and my strength. I will protect you and give to you my power so that your burden may be a bit lighter for you carry the heaviest one of them all. I know that you have many challenges to overcome, and I understand that this is not a task easily taken and yet you've taken it despite these facts. From tonight on, my assistance is yours, I will always help you no matter what dangers we face, even if I'm to meet Dira herself. However, you yourself need to stay strong so that we all may overcome the obstacles that lie ahead. I choose you as my priestess, Kavala. Guide us, show us the way, so that we will never be lost and our will never forgotten.”

After a tick of silence, Reven returned the blade to her friend, remaining within her presence for a moment, hoping that she understood the promise the cougar laid out in front of her before stepping into the chamber and taking up her place by the alter. This was all new to her. Not knowing what to expect made her nervous, but Reven accepted it and let it melt from her thoughts, wanting to keep her mind clear, open, accepting. After several chime, she felt the bond intensify and turned to see the siblings standing before each other, words exchanged between them just as the Kelvic and Konti had done. Echoes of promise sounded from her mate's voice but Reven ignored it. This was sacred space and she felt as though she was violating it listening to his own promise to their beloved Konti.

Instead, the young woman stood closer to the alter, silently offering her own prayers with a tilt of her head up to gaze with steady eyes toward the face of the statue. The god would look upon them all tonight...

The bond told her he was close even before she saw Vanator approach the statue and give his own prayers to the God. Reven couldn't help but turn her eyes to her bondmate, looking over his naked form as she noted the red welts over his skin. A soft smile sprouted on her lips as she caught his gaze for only a tick before turning to stand within the shadows around the alter, waiting for the others to arrive before they would begin the ceremony.

[Caelum]

Starlight stretched betwee the sky and the sea like a bridge between the human and the divine. It was tranquil in the shallows where Caelum stood, his clothes a discarded pile on the shore, a stark foil to the tempest that had swept him off the coast of Black Rock a decade gone. Even the gnosis marks that littered his body were made pallid in the night, Rakeli's a soft shimmer on the back of his hand, Nikali's a wine stained chain that looped over his hip and coiled into his groin, and Nysel's a twisting design down the length of his spine as if it might keep him sewed together. These marks mingled with the darker shadows of windmarks inked into his skin, telling tales as old as their resurrected world and all was interspersed with scars that had stories of their own. Leth was not unkind to him, but rather he drew the wild out of the noble ethaefal's bones until the harsher aspects of humanity were evident in every lean muscle and dark look from knowing eyes. As the Drykas he had been, Caelum wore the face of Kasb'el Sunsinger, a warrior and a horselord, a champion and a spy master in the age of the Valterrian. He had seen war, had known all manner of favors and failings in both the human and the divine. That life was carefully stored in Caelum's mind, inserted there for his perusal before the Djed Storm that had shattered his world like a mirror. He had been turning over the shards in his hands ever since, now and again holding them up to the light to watch the sun chase across his face. Now in the starlight, he bathed. It was a proper, bitter sort of bath for him, reminding him at once of his deepest connections to gods as well as how quickly, how harshly they could be sundered. Soap was smoothed down an arm and he remembered the vambrace he had worn in another life, made of hardened leather and outfitted with a dozen secret pockets and hooks perfect for storing both potions and cures. He could catch a knife on that vambrace or he could loose a medicine to save a life. He lathered his chest and recalled an examination of his soulcore beneath the scrutiny of the sun. Lives upon lives he had lived and he had served, the skin of him changing but the inside maintaining its shape. Until it hadn't. Until he had been altered at his most banal level, and was forsaken. Now Caelum -- Kasb'el, Ares, the Unspeakable, and still yet more -- did not crawl back into the favor of his constant gods so much as he stalked, suspicious and strong, stealthy and seeking the questions to go with all of the answers he had been forced to swallow. With a final, warning glance cast the face of Leth, he walked out of the water and without bothering to dress returned to the Sanctuary. He waited in the shadows of the Sacred Circle while Kavala spoke her piece, the gold flecks in his eyes shining in the candlelight. He listened to Vanator and to Reven and studied the stone face of Nysel's statue, finding nothing of the dream god he loved in the inanimate devotion. Such symbols had never been for him though he did not disregard or disdain their use to others. Caelum understood he was not common in his view of the divine, nor in his so-called obseisance to some members of the Mizahar pantheon. When it was his turn, he stepped forward and met Kavala's achingly blue eyes as she pressed a knife to his chest. "I have come as I was called and have left all of my names along the long road, shed them like skin just as with sunsets and seasons the rest of me also shifts. They are the callings of dead men and not the living one who stands before you. He is nameless as all of his gods have made him, preparing him for this moment. He is me and I am the heirophant. I will be better, I will be powerful, and I will be whole. My will is my own," though one of his gods might dispute it, "And I allow it now to be shaped by the Dreamer." He took the knife from Kavala and turned it his hand, pressing the edge lightly between the curves of her breasts. "You were my friend first, and I approve of you as my priestess. You are worthy of the role and I have faith that you are up to the task." They were very simple words, but perhaps Kavala knew him well enough now to know that it was of the highest compliments Caelum had given anyone -- he took his gods, his faith, and his role among them as the guiding influence of his life. "I have already heard you and fought for you, healed you and followed you, loved you and cared for you. You know that I will continue to, but now I will also be watching you. I will not bite my tongue. I will not turn my head or stay my hand. My priestess deserves more of me, and I will give you every ounce of challenge you will require to lead us all. May you bless me for it." He leaned forward and down, cheek brushing hers, to place a kiss to Kavala's cheek while pressing the knife firmly back into her hand. His promise made, he joined the circle.

[Xira Hezmek]

The gardens of the Sanctuary was dark and quiet. The familiar chirps of insects and night birds that lived among the slumbering vegetation were hushed tonight. They had tilled the soil earlier that day, turned it over so that the plants might "breath" better. Or so he was told. Light filtered among taller plants, dappling Leth's full gaze. It created a somber atmosphere for the young courier to think. He settled himself down among the soil, earth and growing things.

Before the man was the Vian sapling, now transplanted into the ground. New pale white and blue, bell like leaves budding and slowly growing along its thin branches. Xira drew up one leg and wrapped his arms around it, resting his head on his knee as the young man considered it. Here was a living thing that was uprooted from its home and brought to an exotic new location. It was an oddity among the green, earthy plants that made up its neighbors. Was it so strange that Xira compared himself to that plant? The only difference was choice. He made a choice to be here, he chose to take the sapling when others could have. Yes, he even made the choice to stick around. He found that he thoroughly enjoyed Riverfall, his new friends at the Sanctuary, the work that he did in the gardens.

He was to prepare and wait for tonight. The auspicious 24th bell, the changing to the first. The courier was told to go into the depths of Sanctuary, under the protective embrace of the earth with nothing but what he was born with. He reached out and stroked a pale leaf; they were like petals rather than leaves. Soft to the touch, an otherworldly feeling for an otherworldly living thing. He would need to not only shed his clothes, but his past life to make way for this.. future.

Xira had attempted to do just that the season before. What was his life? Most of the time he characterized it by what he lost. His mother and father he never knew, the loving adoptive mother who died. The father figure that was his friend and mentor, Temur, who left without ever saying goodbye. Reflecting on his past made his heart felt heavy with the grief. Always he buried these hurts deep down. His core was burned and raw at the idea of more loss. He thought he had let it go by walking in his idol's footsteps. That by being what he so admired his soul would be soothed. Clearly he had not and would have to now.

He had nothing to give. No tokens or gifts from his past that represented his pain to relinquish. For him, all he had were memories and those would never be parted from him. Instead, he turned to what he gained, the holes that were beginning to fill. He dug his fingers into the fertile ground and let it fall through his fingers. In the place of family the wreckage of his old life, new friendships set root. Reven, Lyn'nice, Vanator, Caelum, Lysa, all the others as well, all thanks to the wonderful woman that his path brought him to, Kavala. If he was indebted to her, it was nothing monetary. It was more than debt and gratitude though, he deeply cared for the Konti woman and felt a connection that was there the first day they met. He knew Kavala somehow, it was inexplicable and perhaps a bit irrational, but she was familiar to him. For every person he lost in Syliras, he had gained two or three here in Riverfall. For Xira, Riverfall was an opportunity for a fresh start. With the first bell, he would take it.

And yet, he always kept himself guarded. His shell was thick and his fleshy parts sensitive. Formality and business meant he did not need friends or loved ones. This is what he would also need to change. He took a sprig of hyssop and crushed it between his fingers. The cleansing scent filled his nostrils. He would endeavor to expand where he started. The friends he had found here, Kavala and the rest, would be the core of his new life and he would expand from there.

Cathartic his thoughts were; his meditation made him feel more in control. A burden was lifted on his shoulders. He would always have his past, but it was time to move on from his hurts. He had nursed them to long, buried them, pretended they did not exist. Xira faced them, acknowledged they existed, not just for himself, but for the people who counted on him and the person he would become.

Xira took out his signet ring and examined the swirling design. Cast in silver the curve went about till it found the center. His past hurts would have no control over him, but perhaps it was time to think of what his future would entail. Kavala, she and the others would help him shape his future and learn from the past he had long buried. This ring would be the key to his past and the cast of his future. Nysel would see to his dreams.

He breathed in deeply and gave a brief prayer to Semele and Caiyha. He thanked them for the Sanctuary and protection the garden gave him while he thought. Then he left. The inner did not reflect the outer; his mind was cleansed but his body remained filthy. In his chambers he stripped of his simple, serviceable clothing and made for the baths. One was in use and he left the occupant to its use, the other he had to himself.

Within moments the courier took to the task of cleansing his body with no less the determination that he cleansed his mind. The mortal shell of Xira Hezmek was ordinary. Average height, average build, and in all accounts what appeared to be a human mutt. He was nothing special. Soil and the day's toils fell from his body, olive toned and fairly hairless. It was perhaps the only unusual thing about him, the smooth, toned flesh, unmarred by tatoos or scars. He was a blank slate through and through.

Perhaps it was the modesty he was raised with, but walking the halls of the Sanctuary's Within nude was rather embarrassing. No one was about but he and the four others, and yet he hesitated. Embarrassment had no place in the somber and serious affair however and Xira forced himself to leave the bathroom and his protective clothing. He would not need to hide himself behind the shell he left behind.

Xira found himself the last to arrive, the beautiful konti woman greeted him at the door. Completely bereft of clothing and modesty the young man blushed and inclined his head in deference as she spoke the words by rote. The blade was cool to the touch and caused him to shiver. Briefly he felt alarmed at the thought of the sharp blade passing through his flesh. But this was Kavala, she would never hurt him. The challenge issued, he responded, ignoring the details of the woman's flesh, and he spoke with sincerity.

"My past, I relinquish. My present, you shall receive freely. My future, we will forge together. I know now that our meeting was more than simple chance. That there is a price for the joy I have found here. Somehow, Kavala, I know you and I do not completely understand how I do. But I am ready to shoulder the responsibility of change and burden that it carries." He looked deep into her eyes, blue searching blue and continued, "Nysel willing, you will lead us and bring honor to his name." He then broke the gaze and looked past to the others, "You honor me by trusting me so, by allowing me in, treating me like one of your own and teaching me things. I can never truly repay you, not when I am but a simple man who works at the beck of others. Or, I should say was." He nodded, finished with what he had to say.

Then Xira crossed the threshold and was given the knife. They then switched roles and he challenged her. He carefully balanced the knife in his hand to not damage the smooth skin, fearful of harming his beloved friend. "Kavala, my friend. You know better than I do what is required of you. You have accepted this by being here, allowing me to take this dagger and lead us in worship to Nysel. What I wish for you is to keep open your heart, never let it close to strangers like myself. In this way more is needed of your kindness, generosity and patience. I will help you in all that I can, but I know I am both a stranger and a friend. That I, a man who knows you but knows nothing can only do so much. But I will do what I can." In this situation words fled his tongue. Long speeches died on his lips in favor of the truth and sincerity. He left it at that and returned the dagger to his friend and priestess and took his place, the penultimate. With Kavala leading them she was the first and the last of them.

My words.

Their words.

[Kavala]

Vanator was the first, which was fitting in Kavala’s mind. He was so proud, so elegant as he stood naked before her. She witnessed his scars as he witnessed hers and they came together as two races united under one family, with only a blade and words between them. In Nysel’s name, she witnessed his testimony and the sincerity of it almost stopped her breath. That she had the same blood flowing through her veins as this human before her often gave her pause. They were linked, the two siblings were, as far more than brother and sister. They were linked in the deep sort of kinship that only true family – accepted and fought for – could be. They were linked in love and compassion and in the steadfastness needed to see something through.

When Vanator in turn challenged her, she listened carefully, nodded, and replied to his words with ones of her own. “For now, I will lead. I have walked the paths of darkness, traced the Chavi of those that have gone before, and I know the pathway well. I will light lanterns of knowledge and line the pathway so that those that live in the here and now can follow after us, tracing our path and repopulating the Cytali. Thank you for your borrowed strength and wisdom freely offered. I will use it often and well. Be welcome here, Vanator, and know that this is the last time within this circle you will use that name.” Kavala said, leaning forward and retrieving the blade he offered back to her. She kissed his cheek as well, and turned to watch him pace the length of the circle, pausing at Nysel and offering him reverence as well.

Kavala smiled. Her brother was so noble, so willing to go where most Drykas feared to tread. He was a new generation of leader. She hoped one day he’d be able to do for them what she’d just pledged to do for the Cytali. Through him, they would have no hope of failure, for through him they could thrive once more.

When Kavala faced Reven and the candlelight, her body blazed with all the markings Reven was busy looking at. She had a prominent gnosis mark of Eyris, one of Nysel, and two of Rak’keli. There were more, strangely subdued, but that wasn’t what struck the Kelvic. In the candlelight Kavala’s skin was etched not just with scales that swirled patterns alongside her pale normal skin. But the place where she should have flat and smooth stretches of paleness, indeed the skin was etched. It was as if someone had taken an extremely razor thin blade and had carved up the Konti repeatedly. In some places the etchings formed words; in others they formed geometric patterns. It was obviously a sign that sometime in her past she’d been bound and cut, carved like clay, and if the patterns had any indication, for someone’s pleasure and not Kavala’s gain.

But the Konti wasn’t ashamed of the way her skin looked when it was kissed by the sun causing the faint scars to show. She was proud of her survival and her history in many ways made her who she was. So when Reven stepped up, she challenged her in the same way she had Vanator with the same exact words and waited for the Kelvic’s response.

It was not long in coming.

Kavala smiled at the depth of the Kelvic’s proclamation and then in turn offered her the blade. The Kelvic spoke again, this time pressing the blade into Kavala’s chest without making a cut. She absorbed Raven’s words and nodded, taking the blade back gently as she spoke. “Your strength is the prowess and cunning of a cat. You see more, hear more, and sense more than many of us can. Your assistance pledged is invaluable, not only because of the strengths you bring but because of the happiness and stability you’ve carried into our circle. Tonight, and all the other nights to follow, Reven, you have become my sister, my family, and though we do not share blood, we share something far greater together. We share the love of a man and the claiming of him as family. Be welcome here now and always.” Kavala said, leaning forward to kiss her new sister on the cheek and to allow her into the circle.

Caelum was next. He stepped forward proudly moving in the way Caelum moved, which was an art form in and of itself. He was stunning in his own right and any clothing he would have draped on his body would have just taken from that visage and not from added a thing to him. As often happened when he was wrapped in Leth’s power and beautiful to behold, Kavala had trouble meeting his glittering eyes. But today she could feel Nysel fill her with added resolve, and she met his gaze with her own eyes blazing the pale blue they got when she was feeling deep emotions. It made her look blind against her white skin, having such a pale gaze, but that was the furthest from the truth. She saw more locked in the thrall of ritual. And as she watched Caelum join her, she knew she watched a fully realized Cytali come to claim his place, already present in the now. This was good for Caelum, Kavala thought absently, because so often his thoughts turned dark as the past haunted him. The Eth needed to look forward always. His power was prominent there, while his weaknesses were stretched behind him.

She challenged him and he replied. Then she was relieved of the blade and he responded in kind. “It is not He who shapes us, but us who shape Him as need requires. You are already better. You are already powerful. You are already whole. You just need to find the pieces of your life yourself you have left scattered in the world. We move backwards in order to move forwards. Then, you were not ready or willing to take up the mantle that those pieces represented. You are now. And you will claim them. You have never been less than perfect in His eyes or ours.” Kavala said, accepting the fact that Caelum had already named himself and came forward with that name.

Then, when he spoke again, she replied in kind. “I accept your wisdom and censure, as always, Hierophant. I would ask no less of you and demand nothing more than the best of you for I love you well and deeply, claim you as family, and will stand at your side in all things for as long as I walk this world.” Kavala replied, returning his nuzzle and kiss and taking the blade back into her hands. It felt more powerful to her now, with all the charges thus far pledged with it gripped by and pressed into flesh.

She watched Caelum pass by, joining the other two in the circle, and turned to smile at the last person. She knew perhaps that Caelum and Vanator would not understand, but Xira and she had a long history in another life. Even Xira did not fully realize their relationship being mark less at the moment. But he would. And his calm accepting nature told her that though he could not know the details, he knew what he felt was acceptance and truth, a kinship to the woman who had invited him to come here. Nysel would mark him soon enough, but Kavala suspected that Xira’s test in this life before receiving his mark was blind faith. It was something he’d struggled with and learned in his last life together with Kavala when she’d been human and been known as Crescent. Back then she’d been a trained Ruv’na assassin. She’d been sent to take out the head of the Cytali. They’d had a file on her, naming her as an assassin and escape artist and had marked her for reconditioning. If that had failed, they’d marked her for death. Crescent, as Kavala had been called then was the daughter of a high ranking assassin named Eclipse for the Suvan Empire. He was the leader of the Ruv’na and had trained Crescent harshly from the time she could walk. Tizack, the leader of the Cytali at the time, had known the assassin was coming for him and had laid a trap. She was captured and he had walked her Chavi personally and had reworked her entire set of memories so all the training she had received was by his hand. Tizack had placed Crescent fully in his control, saving her from death. He’d also placed her in his personal guard and through her had risen to the ranks of Leader, using her as his chief security. She’d foiled Ruv’na assassination after assassination, and in the end had slain her own father without realizing it. That trauma had almost broken her conditioning, so that night Tizack had taken her to his bed.

Xira had been the first product of that union, whether he knew it or not.

Tizack never told Crescent what he’d done, and ironically she’d never gained a Nysel mark to find out for herself that her whole life was a lie. Everyone in the organization had kept the truth from her, though if had they been honest and altered her memories back, Crescent would have stayed with them anyhow having found a measure of peace and happiness. Xira had been the first of many children. They were trained as mages and assassins, their minds sharp and their skill set varied.

The Cytali wouldn’t trust her though, nor trust in their belief in the roads Nysel lead them down. In those days the Cytali were much more and had done a lot of good in the world both for Alahea and to advance Nysel’s cause. Kavala even though they’d seen the Valterrian coming, the advance gnosis bearers like Tizack. But in the end it hadn’t saved her, not in those days. Nor had it saved her family or children. Nysel had promised them to her again. Xira was the first of such promises being kept.

Though she’d produced Tizack many heirs to the Cytali and had gone through lives afterward that had seen her marked and fully trusted member. She’d never lead. This was her time, her chance, at least in the initial days. But life was frail and Kavala’s plan was to train each and every member so that they could lead if necessary, so no matter how many of them fell, they could still carry on.

So when Xira spoke, Kavala’s eyes filled with unshed tears and she was proud beyond measure. His charge was simple, eloquent, and full of his potential. “There are no words….” She started to respond. “… that can be spoken between us that will not be on some levels understood. In another time and another place you, Xira, were my son. Now that dynamic has shifted and we forge new bonds. But I know you, more than you realize, and some of who you are I have had the molding of. You were the first son of the most powerful leader the Cytali has ever seen. You went on to lead them yourself after your father had passed from the land. Your soul remembers. And while there is no blood between us now, there will be love beyond measure. We are not welcoming someone new into this family, but we are welcoming an old familiar presence back home. This is where you belong and why you are so comfortable here. These ways are familiar to you. Once, you would have challenged everyone as I have challenged you today. And while your body bears no marks, I suspect it will shortly. You were predestined to come home to us. We are the souls you choose to link to and be with. And while that might not make sense to you now, it will later, when you’ve had time to adjust. Life outside of the Cytali for a true Cytali – especially one born and raised as you have been in the past – is harsh. You wander. You feel lost. You know there is more out there than you have come to witness and experience. Here is the more. Here you will settle and feel comfortable and find your way. You are a son of The Sanctuary as much as Tasival or Ralac is. You are a man of the order just as much as Vanator and Caelum’s are. Be welcome here. Be welcome home.” Kavala said, and reversed her grip on the knife, offering it to Xira.

His charge to her was like a warm blanket wrapped around her cold soul. “I will keep my heart open. I will do what must be required to nourish it like it was a living thing. That includes my kindness, generosity, and patience. You are no stranger, Xira. That you are here means more to me than you can ever truly know at this point. But I will heed your words. They have always been the wisest of council.” And with that she took the blade back from him and turned to the others as Xira let himself into the circle.

Kavala walked over to the altar and stood before it. She waited for the others to move to the four quarters around her. She laid the new blade down at its center and with a quick thought and burst of res the candles there blazed to life. They illuminated the circular room even further, casting a glow on each of the people present. They also clearly revealed what the altar held. Folded in a neat stack was a glittering pile of robes. And beside the robes were blades very similar to Kavala’s ritual blade. Hers lay beside them now… all individual but all formed of the same material. There was also a pile of silver and gold candles stacked neatly by the burning pillars on the stone table.

The Healer, borrowing the guise of a priestess that day, cupped her hands and summoned res. She shaped the res differently, moving around the altar to stand before it rather than behind it. Kavala pulled stone from thin air, excelling at the geomancy she so loved. The bowl rose in a pedestal much like a birdbath would, rising from the ground to the height of the table. It formed a vessel, a bowl of sorts, which opened up like two wings with a depression in the middle for water. She waved her hands over a strange reimancy formed depression in the center and it slowly filled with her own res and turned to silvery liquid water. The surface of the water glittered like diamonds – like stars in the sky – reflecting the candles flickering around the room. And then the water coiled and changed, reflecting not the flickers of the candles like stars in the sky, but instead contained swirling colors that those who’d been there would recognize as the Chavena. The glittering twirling strands of light were the individual Chavi depicted in the light. Kavala dipped her hands into the water and lifted it up, pulling the strands with her before they fell back into the water. She smiled, satisfied, and looked to the group.

“Before the ritual is finished, often we will receive our next directions from this vessel. In a way, it becomes Nysel’s All Seeing Eye. Any of you can set it up, transforming any bowl into a Nightmares & Dream Mirror. You just need reimancy.” She gave them all a pointed look. “Each person looks in and each person will get a different message. The message is of Nysel and I suspect our first few challenges after this night’s one will not be something massive and heavy to test our boundaries and strengths as a group. Those will come later. Our first charge will be a glimpse of what we need to set out on this path. And it is as Caelum has already hinted at. We all must change.” Kavala said, looking around then reaching down to cup the surface of the water.

“I will no longer be Kavala Denusk before you and within the Cytali. I will be someone else, someone more, someone who carries Nysel’s holy word and will. You will as well. Here, tonight, we take different names, each and every one of us. That is why you stand before Him and us naked. You must walk forward, dip your hands in the water, receive your first task, and be birthed a new in front of Him and in front of us.” Kavala said, sliding around to stand in front of the Nightmare and Dreams Vessel. She dipped her hands in the water, swiped it across her face, and waited, carefully.

Some time passed, while they all waited…

And finally Kavala spoke, her back towards them as she faced the altar. Her mind had filled with images; some of the partial necklace Caelum had gifted her with, some of the necklace made whole. It was another Cytali tool she knew, one that in sudden clarity she understood would be the first task for them all.

“I know my name.” She said simply. “I am Nacreous. If it pleases me I may go by Nacre as well. I am the high fierce clouds in the stratosphere that shimmer with dangerous luminescence. I am the lining of an abalone shell that swirls with colors. I am named for color in his mind and variety for I hold many cards and have many skills but all of them illuminate the darkness in his eyes. I am Nacreous.” Kavala repeated, then reached forward and took a robe off the altar. She swirled it around her shoulders and it fell about her form, concealing her. It had a deep hood and was lined with an iridescent material that reflected her name. The robe was a perfect fit, having been tailored seasons ago by the Konti’s foresight and Rosela’s hand. The sleeves and hood were lined with gemstones that were as black as the outer material of the robe, but caught and reflected the candlelight.

She looked, in that moment, like a high priestess.

“My task is simple. He has revealed it. Each Cytali has a talisman, a necklace if you will, that holds the keys to the Chavi of all they love. This talisman is called an Inac. Mine is out there in the world, from lives past and this one, waiting for me to retrieve it. I must go forth and find it. I have a piece of it now. Caelum returned it to me however unknowingly. It is the first step in this process. It is our initiation quest. He has shown me what it is and where it is. Now I have only to go find it.” Kavala said softly, facing the group and moving behind the altar to make way for the next person. She had a suspicion that all their quests, though different, would be entirely the same.

[Xira Hezmek]

The young courier considered Kavala's words carefully as she spoke them and meditated on them as he waited for her to join the circle. To complete it and lead them as his and the others charged her to do. Xira quite frankly did not understand what she meant by him being her son in another life. The time they had spent together thus far had been anything but familial. But her words made a certain amount of sense. He felt comfortable around the people of the Sanctuary. He enjoyed the company of his newfound friends; the loneliness of before was gone when he was in their presence. He felt at home. But unfamiliar words she spoke of both bothered her and tugged at him, like things half remembered in a dream. Words like Chavi, or Cytali. True she mentioned Cytali in days before, but she did not elaborate and Xira was a man that hungered after knowledge. He trusted Kavala though, perhaps more than she would ever know.

Lights suddenly illumined the five gathered there giving the young man a bit of a fright. He wasn't sure what was to be expected and flushed with embarrassment. He hoped the others did not see that, and worked to regain the ritualized reverence of the moment. And her casual use of magic added to the mysticism that shrouded her as a robe would. Where there was nothing, suddenly there was a bowl on a pedestal. What was empty, there was water. Where there was water, the still surface did not only reflect just the surrounding but a shifting light and swirling of colors. Xira could scarcely believe his eyes but with magic, anything could be done. Or so he thought.

Then she spoke and explained their ritual. The bowl was His eye and He was to give them a message. Interesting. He nodded his understand as she spoke, unconscious of the act and not willing to break the sacred moment. They would be given a chance to change, and he would be sentenced to live in a Ravokian prison, a fate worse than death in his eyes, before he refused that.

Kavala was the first to partake of the Mirror of Nightmares and Dreams. Washed aglow in its light the woman shed her former name and became Nacreous. With her new name, she took the mantle of her temporary holy office and turned back to them.
"Each Cytali has a talisman...an Inac." Another set of words he did not understood. But this mission given to Narcre, it also tugged at him. Behind the altar as she was, something inside compelled him to take a step forward.

Naked, bare under the gazes of the others, he made an effort to not feel self conscious. Instead he cupped his hands together and dipped his hands into the bowl just as their priestess did. Before he brought the shimmering water to his face he intoned, "I will no longer be Xira Hezmek before you and within the Cytali." He was not entirely sure if that was acceptable, but it was what his compulsion demanded of him. He then cast the water over his features.

He was overwhelmed with images, light bloomed in his mind. He understood now. He had a name, not one chosen by another mortal. If he chose it himself or was gifted it by Nysel, he did not completely know. The images ordered themselves in his mind and he saw a staff. On the staff was an ornament, a pendant in some of these images, a set of pendants across a string in others and it was bound to the staff. Each image had a different staff, but the necklace remained consistent. The stick he understood it to be unimportant, simply a style of a man he did not know, it was the ornament or the necklace that he was tasked in finding.

"I have shed my former name. I am Halcyfer. I am the harbinger of tranquility to stormy skies and storming minds. For Nysel has named me so to bring joy and misery, wealth and poverty. I am one of the fishers of kings, for we all shall bring in the kings and queens among dreaming men." Halcyfer paused for a moment more, absorbing the message their god sent to him. Then he took up a robe and settled it over his shoulders. The fabric was rich and soft against his bare skin and a welcome warmth.

"My task is not dissimilar to Nacre's" He moved from the pedestal so that the next could use it. "I am to find the staff that has wrapped around it my Inac. In truth, the walking stick is not important. But if I find it, so too will I find my talisman."

Halcyfer could not help but think of what was expected of him. He could not imagine where to start to look. The possibilities were overwhelming. He did not even fully understand why he needed to find it. Deep down though, he felt optimistic. He could spend the rest of his life searching for it, or only a season, in either case, he would be doing the what he was tasked to do.

My words.

Their words.