Priskil

by **Tarot** on January 9th, 2013, 7:42 pm

Priskil is an ancient goddess of radiance and lover of Aquiras, god of doors and travel. Once nearly forgotten, Priskil has returned to prominence with the Valterrian, when Aquiras' Heart was stolen by Sagallius Hrinn, making the god fall into a coma. Priskil watches over her lover's fallen form and waits for his Heart to be returned, never losing hope. Because of this, she has acquired the new and stronger domains of hope and vigilance. She powers the Watchstones at the top of each Watchtower, making them flare with sadness and hope at the start of every new season.

Priskil appears to be a fair woman, one who has known great pain but still stands unbowed. She is clad in white robes and radiates a warm glow, true to her original godly domain. Her tone is calm and often melancholy, avoiding all excessive displays of emotion. Quiet, modest dignity is apparent in her actions, and she will never willingly try to overwhelm her audience with awe. More often than not, she will try to put herself on the same level as her listeners, and when she needs to reveal herself as a goddess, she will do so discreetly.

Unlike many other gods, Priskil has fully mastered words like "please" and "thank you" and there will be no signs of superiority in her attitude towards mortals, though her steely resolve will shine through.

For many millennia, Priskil was, above everything, more of a happy woman than a goddess. Content with the company of her lover Aquiras, she had no interest in the power struggles among the gods. While other deities bought the favor of man with powerful gifts, she and Aquiras helped them for free in their early days. Aquiras enchanted the Watchtower system with instant travel, and Priskil's light flared in the night, keeping monsters at bay. In time, men developed different needs, and other gods were quick to fulfill them. Priskil and Aquiras mostly faded out of memory, and they were fine with it. They knew their love was a commodity that no amount of power or worship could replace.

When Aquiras fell to a single mortal wizard, Priskil was devastated. Her world came crashing on her, yet her hidden strength revealed itself. She dragged his body into a corner of the crumbling astral gateways Aquiras himself had created for use with the Watchtowers. She protected him through the dangerous Valterrian, the delicate flower of radiance hardening into a formidable sentinel.

Priskil is a woman who knows love, and can sympathize with others. She keeps believing in the world and those who live in it. She is no longer naive and is fully aware of how much evil and darkness fill the hearts of people and gods alike, but she believes that there is always another way, something else to try, and she will not give up.

Her being more of a woman than a goddess is both Priskil's greatest strength and chief weakness. She demands nothing of her followers, who are almost always incredibly devoted, but also lacks the mindset of a truly competitive deity. She often hesitates to ask mortals for services, not wishing to cause them pain for her sake. She feels that gods and mortals should live in harmony, and neither should be a burden on the other. This feeling, while noble, does little to help in her fight against the intelligent, manipulative Sagallius - whose death is the only thing that might save Aquiras.

by **Wrenmae** on January 10th, 2013, 5:11 am

Winter 87, Zeltiva.

Shadows fell like dead eels across the moonlit university dormitory. Wrenmae, bound in blankets, slept soundly. In all the time he had lived, he looked the most peaceful when slumbering, too deep for dreams to reach his tired brain.

Zan did not sleep, however, had known none of it his entire existence. Once upon a time there had only been fire and violence, a planet in vying extremes home to species of racial prejudice and hatred just as strong as Mizahar possessed.

It had been nearly ten years since he'd arrived in Mizahar, bound to the troubled soul of a storyteller marked with disease. Back then, well...those had been trying times, but when worse came to worse, they always had each other. There had been fights...times they didn't get along, but hope was never a commodity far from their grasp. Before Wren had left Alvadas, he'd planned to see Sylira, seek the stories there, brings some home to Johanne, maybe find someone over there that could help him, remove the mark on his soul.

All he found was monsters in the deep, a forest fraught with danger, and torture in Sunberth. Only a year had changed Wrenmae in horrifying ways. The boy who loved to crow from rooftops, sing tales from barstools had almost completely flickered to nothing. All that was left was a hollow, ravenous, emptiness. Vayt and his mission consumed the mage's waking moments, as strong as any obsession ever was before. Gone was the light that always broke the shadows in his eyes, gone was that capricious glee, that wonder, the innocence in spite of tragedy that had made Wrenmae exactly who he was.

What slumbered now was a monster, an envoy of the very god who cursed him, as confident in taking life as his master...frighteningly devoid of pity for the bodies burning in the streets, the wailing of those left behind.

His mind was alien to the familiar now.

Shimmering in the moonlight, Zan transformed into a copy of Wren, djed already expending to turn his hair blonde, sharpen his nose, narrow his face, drops of sapphire in his eyes. He would not be the same as Wren, never had been.

And now he needed help...and Wren had no one who wasn't like him or an enemy now.

So he spoke to the only being he thought might help.

"Erm." he paused, tapped against his head as if the action would shake loose some words, "Hi. Um. Priskil? Right? Er...this is strange. I mean, are we supposed to talk like you're here? Can you even here me? I mean...sure, people, and knights, and kindly old women, sure...but familiars? I..." He paused, thoughtful, "I don't belong to this world, more an extended tourist you might say, or at least parasiting residence off my partner."

Wren sighed in his sleep, turned over. Zan stared at him in the darkness, quivering. Of course, he'd know if Wren were awake immediately...their bond permitted such...but still, the idea that he could wake at any moment to find Zan playing envoy to some glowy god lady...well, that might not go over too well.

"Right, oh. I'm Zan, by the by, and the oaf behind me is Wrenmae...he's asleep, so um, don't tell him I was here. He gets all choosey and possessive over which gods he talks to. Trust me, weird stuff, I mean, really...can you HAVE a more macabre group of invisible-sometimes-real-all-powerful-gods than him? Probably not, I mean, maybe. You'd know better than me."

Zan glanced out the window, almost as if he expected a goddess to be floating there, listening.

"Anyways...in the case I'm not just talking to myself, I need your help."

No flash of light. No thunder, no helpful voice. Only silence answered the familiar.

If he had a heart, it would have sunk.

"I mean...yeah, didn't really expect you to listen to a foreigner, I guess...but ya see, Wren and I have been partners for a long time. Poor guy has a mark against him, makes all the people close to him...well, I'm not supposed to talk about it...but suffice to say, he doesn't really have any friends."

He blinked.

"The nuits don't count. They're just as bad as him, and more clumsy corpse hopping versions of me...but he isn't bad, I mean, not always bad and...errr...shyke, hard to talk to an invisible glowing lady of hope...sorry Priskil."

He shook his head and shrugged, "Anywhos, people are getting hurt...innocent people, and I kinda want to stop him from doing it. Problem is, I can't exactly stop him without hurting him...and that hurts myself, weird double bladed sword there right? I mean, maybe I just don't get this faith thing. You float down and tattoo us or something? And suddenly our whole personalities change and hurting people is ok now? I mean, what the shyke? Is that what your kind do-"

He swallowed, shook his head, "I mean, sorry, I don't know you...I only know Va-...err, Rhy-...err, some other guys...and they weren't very nice. I think the poor guy could really use other friends...you know, nice ones, the kind that would help him, the kind that would save..."

Zan swallowed again, looking over at the slumbering Wrenmae,

"Save his soul."

He cocked his head back to the window, the brilliant blue eyes he'd given himself darker now, hollow, worried.

"I want to help...I want to protect people, ya know? I mean, sure, they can be jerks sometimes, but by and whole they're a good bag of fles-...err, humans, good humans...I guess. Maybe I have no right to talk to you, to ask for a sign, for some help, for...your blessing? I dunno. It's all very confusing and you're a goddess of hope so I figured, hey Zan, want to stay up all night talking hopefully to a window? Sure I says to myself, Zan ole buddy, you LOVE talking to windows! Never a better time!"

His voice broke and he looked down.

"Sorry...I'm not really good at this whole prayer thing."

He sighed, standing up, his form already shifting back into the watery shape of a Sarawanki, "I don't know if you even listen to my kind, not really. But if you do...I need some help. Give me the power to stop him...ya know, without suicide. I want to hope I can bring him back to who he was...but I can't if the only gods I ever get to meet just want to make our lives worse."

He paused, midway through shifting, looking out the window again.

"Please...I really don't ask for help much, I try to be a good friend. Help me help people, help me help him...I don't know who else to turn to that won't just try to murder us. There's good in him, I know there is. I saw it once, hiding...somewhere, but he's just...weak? Yeah. I guess he's weak right now, and sad, and lonely and-"

Zan half laughed.

"And I'm probably talking to someone who isn't even listening...smooth move Zan, really laid the groundwork for a top notch communication with the divine. Here comes the Zan ship, population Zan, on the way to 'Trying to Figure Out How to Help My Best Friend city'..."

He sank, his colors shifting his mood almost completely dour.

"Joy."

[/color]

by **Tarot** on January 27th, 2013, 10:02 pm

"I always listen."

The voice was soft, but firm. Suddenly Zan became aware of a dim glow in the room. A woman was leaning against the wall, looking pensive. She was dark-haired and very fair of skin. The light enveloped her like a halo, as if bubbling just under her surface and waiting to erupt. She was wearing a long, white sleeveless dress of some nondescript fabric. She wore no jewelry nor any other decoration. Her gaze fell upon the Familiar and trailed to the sleeping form of its companion, some lingering sadness in her eyes.

"Doubt anything else, Zan, but do not doubt that. I listen to every single word. I listen to sincere prayers like yours. I listen to lipservice. I listen to drunken blasphemy I would not dare to repeat in front of you. Everyone needs a little hope, even if it's only the consolation of knowing someone is listening. That someone cares." The goddess' light grew more intense for a moment. "Sometimes, caring is all I can do. Even in the pantheon, there are the movers and shakers, and then there are the inspirers. I am very much one of the latter."

Priskil took a single step towards the two of them. "Your problem is manyfold, brave Zan. First of all, you have entered a contract with your friend Wrenmae. That in itself is a contradiction in terms. When contracts and friendship mix, there's a chance one of them will be lost eventually. It is a risk you must be willing to run. I know you prayed to me with the best intentions, but... hope alone will do nothing. Many turn to me, only to lose faith as soon as their hopes do not immediately come true. Some think just dispensing smiles and pep talks will fix everything. It never does, and I'm not talking about you specifically. I am just saying, among all deities my way is actually one of the hardest to follow. You have to fight what your eyes tell you... what your mind tells you... sometimes even what your heart tells you. The way out is never easy to find. I stand as the one who reminds you it exists."

"The second part of the problem is the bad company your friend is keeping. Wrenmae is quite the unique soul. I'm certain he has even attracted the attention of my great enemy. You can imagine how awkward this makes things on my end, yet here I am." The goddess rolled her eyes at her own unchanging ways and smiled. "The thing is, we must respect a mortal's free will. It's one of the only rules we have - we can't tell people what to believe. Some of us will manipulate or trick them into generating that belief, but we can never force them. No-one can tell Wrenmae whom to worship except Wrenmae. Likewise, no-one can tell Zan what to believe. Not even Wrenmae."

Priskil stopped for a moment, as if considering her options. After a while she gave a deep sigh. "You must make a choice here, Zan. Hope is a powerful force, but it can lead to terrifying heartbreak. Disillusioned people have chosen not to suffer much; they have given up everything else in exchange for that single gift. But to hope is to ache, especially in a situation such as yours where the way out is hidden so deep that you might keep searching for a lifetime and never chance upon it. I can't make your friend stop hurting people or associating with Rhysol and Vayt. I might be able to empower you with the ability to lessen the harm he does upon specific people, but you must realize this would be a mere stopgap. Eventually, a confrontation will be inevitable and there is no telling what will happen then."

The goddess folded her arms across her chest. "I'm the worst recruiter ever, but I can't help it. I'll care if you get broken. What would you do with the measure of hope I could bestow on you, friend?"

by **Wrenmae** on January 28th, 2013, 7:21 pm

Priskil did not arrive as Rhysol or Vayt had. She was not attended by a swarm of tiny servants, insects or...whatever the 'light' equivalent of insects where. Nor did she arrive in a maelstrom of smokey chaos, dashing, splintered lights and agonizing pain. She almost seemed to sigh out of the wall, as if the world itself had gently laid her into existence.

Even so, her arrival was as unexpected as it was surprising.

Had he been in replicant form, the shock would have immediately thrown him out of it. Instead, the sarawanki rippled as if assaulted by high winds, twisting and turning in his own metamorphic display of shock and awe. Darting up, he almost made to move towards her, retreated toward Wrenmae, bobbed there in indecision and then settled toward the ground.

A soft glow, bright blue, filled the inside of the Familiar and he shifted toward replicant form, slowly, respectfully, incorporating Wren's own knowledge of Djed and morphing to subtly alter his own face...create his own identity as 'human' rather than that of his slumbering master.

There was a child-like wonder that the sarawanki could not adequately express without features. It spread on his face now, unfamiliar skin widening around his eyes and his heart fluttering like bird wings against his ribcage. It was all very jarring, always was. One did not move from a shape of any to a shape of one too often and, inevitably, the sensations translated over poorly.

Zan knelt, listening to to Priskil as she spoke to him.

At first, he didn't know whether to look at her or the floor. His head bobbed on rusty hinges, almost comically, but he did not follow up with his usual commentary. Her words were a balm on his mind, on his conscience, but in the same swing, they left a residue of duty, of necessity.

"Th-Thank you," Zan said, stumbling over how to address her, "Pris-errr, My lady...err, is it my lady? Or your lady? Your...ladyship? My Ladyship? Do ships have a gend-" He shook his head, violently, forcing his ordinarily distracted mind to focus. He was making a fool of himself before a goddess...the only GOOD deity since he'd been with Wren. Or at least the only good one that didn't want to curse him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry...I'm not accustomed to actually being addressed, ya know? Gods kinda look over me. Rhysol just told me no one was listening...I...well, I usually just get confused with Wren all the time...which isn't me." He paused, took a breath, an alien motion for the familiar. "You would have liked Wren, once upon a time, I think. I sure did. I mean, sure, originally signing over to him was a matter of desperation. My homeworld is...well, not the sort of place one stays in willingly. But ya know, once he wanted to tell a story so great, even the gods would want to listen. That was his dream! I guess, somewhere down the road, it seemed easier to do evil than good." Zan cringed. Wren would have berated him for using the words 'good' or 'evil'. "I guess he lost hope and turned to any deity that would pat him on the head or tell him he was important after."

He frowned, "Even when he tried to do good, it wasn't. Laviku cursed him for believing in the redemption of a weapon. I wasn't paying attention that much then, but in retrospect, I think it was a turning point."

Turning his face to her, he tried a smile on, wrestling with the motions of his mouth and their correspondence to his emotions. "I love the guy, I do. I don't want to hurt him, but I feel like I have to." He held out his hand, clenched it, "His pain is my pain. His death is my death. I don't want to think ending his life is the only solution to all this, and does that make me cowardly? I mean, you called me brave, but I don't want to die. I haven't been on Mizahar that long and this place is so beautiful, so wonderful! I'm only here cause he shared his life with me...I guess I want to repay him by saving his life from his own damnation."

His tone fell, shoulders falling, "But I guess that makes it messing with free will, huh? I mean, I don't want to force him to do stuff, but I want him to return to who he was, or become better than that. I met a knight, a knight named Imass who was taken by Rhysol to Ravok. He was a bit...violent, but he had such strong faith." He cast his head back at Wrenmae, who moved in his sleep, muttering words that were not so much words, but the spirits of words...sentences long dead.

"Wrenmae has no faith. He thinks that the world needs to be tested in fire to become strong again, but I think it kills him a little bit inside to be a part of this. His company is dark gods and the undead, everyone else withers. I wish I could save him from that, I wish I could save other people from that. You...errr, you mentioned he attracted the attention of your Great Enemy...I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that your enemy isn't a nice guy, like Vayt and Rhysol. Zan glanced back at Wrenmae for a moment, his eyes resting fondly on the young man. They'd come across the sea despite its best effort to murder them, survived Sunberth, Alvadas, the Unforgiving. Death wasn't the end of this story, nothing so sudden and hopeless. He'd find a way to reform Wren back to where he'd been, he'd make him see the light...somehow. Turning back to Priskil, Zan sighed.

I dunno how much more poor Wren can take. I mean, free will is free will, but are there any nicer gods that could...I dunno, sit him down and reprimand him? He's not so strong as he thinks he is, nor set in his path...and I feel...err, well, guess really, as well as any familiar might I think, that he's never been shown a nicer face...a more caring soul that isn't using him for some sort of convoluted agenda or example. I just-"

He bit his tongue, actually bit it, and winced.

Wren rolled over sharply in his sleep, growling, and then falling silent. Zan winced, frowning and shrugging apologetically. "I don't know if I consider myself worthy to carry your gift, I mean, I'm just a familiar, right? I'm kinda sorta a fugitive here, like a glorified tapeworm as some unkinder folk might say...but if I had a gift to protect someone, anyone, from what Wren brings in his misguided crusade...I would use it to protect whoever I can, and most importantly, to remind Wren he DOES have REAL friends, people who want the best for him, who want his talent to be used to help the world, not hurt it."

He paused.

"Erm. M'am, ladyship, yours or mine as your please."

by **Eleret** on July 27th, 2013, 7:27 pm

OOCFound this in my notes, apparently forgot to post it. Oops!

Spring 1, 513 AV
occurs in Sightseeing and Sea Kings

"Lady of Hope, I pray that in this new year we are all able to keep hope in our hearts, though at times the days seem dark indeed. I continue to hold my own close -- that my sister is well, wherever she may be; that the illness which darkens Zeltiva soon lifts, and the city brighten with the year; and that we should all find this year less tumultuous and deadly than the last. May Your light shine upon us all, now and always."

by **Ricky Maze** on August 2nd, 2013, 9:41 am

Faith In Hope
Summer 25 513 AV; 10th Bell
Location: Priskil's Spire, Zeltiva
oocRicky is learning how to develop faith, and more importantly hope.

Thought Priskil would be a good way to start.

"Now close your eyes," he obeyed as she instructed him to do so, "and start to pray."

"Pray f'r what?" He quirked with a chuckle, a little amused with Telion for attempting this.

"Anything. More importantly everything." She spoke softly now her gentle hands wrapped with Ricky's as they both knelt together. "Priskil is the Goddess of Hope and Light Ricky, her radiance is what gives us the light we need to see our path."

"You sound like one o' them priests or priestesses." He teased but she only shushed him, the smirk on his face disappeared rapidly as he took her more seriously.

"Right now you need hope, hope for yourself and hope for those around you. Make peace with what you've kept hidden inside, and allow Priskil to give you hope Ricky." She continued to watch him as he took a deep breath, and then exhaled as she repeated her self once more. "Now pray."

"I..." His mind drew a blank, not even sure where to begin his prayer, Ricky found himself completely lost at how such a think was properly done. "M'lady Priskil? I'm sorry, I'm terrible at all this worship. It's a new experience for me I can actually admit." Another smile came and quickly went away soon after, his thoughts finally began to unroll as they would allow for him to continue. "I've lived long enough to know fear, pain, love, and hate. Fear and courage is somethin' I've to live with ev'ry day recently, and lately I've come to question me abilities. I've learned how t' use magic but fear losin' me self to it, thus haven't risked the chance though threats still exist." He started to find it easy now, almost as though he were telling a story. "All me friends and me family believe in me, and I can only try to live up t' their expectations. What I want is t' be their shield, their protector in the times they are defenseless. I want to keep ev'ryone safe, be the person they see me as."

He hadn't felt any part of him really change, but he didn't expect it to happen anyway. "I... don't know if me words reach yer ear's m'lady, but I find me self wantin' t' believe. I really do. I'm just not entirely sure where t' start..."

by **Ricky Maze** on September 25th, 2013, 10:27 pm

Fall 2nd 513 AV, 24th Bell
Location: Zeltiva, Old Quarter

Darkness filled the room as the silence failed to send sleep its invitation, thus Ricky found himself sitting at the edge of his bed while his wife slept with no movement. He had been watching her for practically a bell now with a mind that wandered to other questionable places, like if he would be a good parent for their child or if they were safe in the city since turmoil seem to strike. There was always something that happened and for Ricky those things were testing his patience, his ability to remain strong as he tried to be the glue that held everything.together. A faint smile came to his face as he watched Telion change position, comfort restored in her expression as she remained asleep. He wanted to run away. Just take his family and run off elsewhere, leave to a much quieter place and never look back. Yet Zeltiva was his home, a home he couldn't really fight for, no matter how much he wanted to.

He sighed with a troubled frown as his eyes fell to the shadows of the floor, and then decided if he were to give for sure now would only be the best time. "Faith is 'bout givin' a part o' yer self t' that God or Goddess..." He remembered the words explained that day and the prayer that followed, and decided that maybe he would try another prayer to the Goddess of Hope. Ricky glanced over to check and see that his beloved still rested, then eased onto his feet to avoid chances of waking her. He then went over to the window with his eyes first on the grounds outside, then to the sky as he took in a deep breath before he started to pray.

"Lady Priskil..." He spoke softly in a near whisper as his eyes searched the skies. "I'm 'avin a bit o' trouble with things at this time. Zeltiva's in turmoil and I've not the ability t' protect it, not with the ones I love at stake..." Disappointment filled his eyes as he struggled to admit this, his heart filled with shame at that moment. "I'm not even sure I can protect them now, not as well as I'd like t'. I guess... I guess I'm stuck really. Ye'd think after ev'rythin' I've been through I'd 'ave at least one answer t' me current problems, but alas I... I just don't." He confided with a hand ran through his hair, a sigh followed as he took a moment to contemplate further on his thoughts.

by **Colt** on October 10th, 2013, 10:43 pm

13th of fall, 513 a.v, on the outskirts of Endrykas
daybreak

The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon when Shahar took a seat at the crest of what was almost a hill. The sky was on fire with the birth of day, stirring the grasslands from their slumber. The hunter crossed his legs and straightened his back, gazing at the skyline without truly seeing it.

It had been season since he had last prayed to Caiyha, or really given any god more attention that mundane recognition. Now, however, he gathered his thoughts in preparation for what the elders said would reach the gods’ ears no matter how impossible it might seem. It was very, very rare for Shahar to put much thought towards such things, but now… now was different.

Priska. Priscla? Priskil? Was that it? Shahar shifted, unsure, but continued nevertheless. Hope, that is what you do, correct? Good feelings, strength in dark. To help those who need it. He paused, trying to gather the correct words for what exactly it was that he wanted to say. I need… I ask… for your help. What he did next was not quite words; though he didn’t know if the goddess would hear, much less understand or care, he tried to express the depths of his weariness, his doubt, of his goals and of his fear that all of his efforts would be in vain.

Slither. Slither had been the first, so it seemed appropriate that he was addressed first. A snake-man. Dhani. Powerful. Dangerous. Predator. At least, that is what he should be. He is… Shahar looked at the ground, even though he was alone. … broken. So broken. No light in his eyes, no pride. He does not dream or desire. He does not hope. Almost a year now he has been with me, but he does not heal. I can give food and shelter, or even medicine if he is sick, but his wounds are not of the body. And they do not mend. I am a hunter, not a healer, and I do not know how to help him.

Isalie. She is the same, but different. She move as if she is sick, even when her body has food and water and sleep. She eats, but she does not taste. She hears, but she does not listen. She looks, but she does not see.

But the spark is there. I have seen it, like a bird hidden the the shadows of grass. But it flees whenever I try to get close, and I do not know how to anchor it, to make it stay, to feed it. And I am afraid that I never will. I am afraid that she will become like Slither, unable to heal, unwilling to care.

Help me, Priskil. Give Isalie hope, and give Slither hope. Something, anything at all that makes them believe in something better so I can prove it right. Help them to remember how to smile and laugh, to remember good dreams and forget their bad ones. How to be, as all people should be.

by **Lavira** on November 30th, 2013, 3:59 am

Timestamp: Fall 91, 513

The meeting had ended on a dour note, the young woman walking silently beside her lover with head turned down in seeming thought. Part of it truly was simply thought. Thought about what was to become of her friends as winter commenced; thought about the new rules and regulations that were to be enforced throughout the city and throughout every cast; thought about the effect the famine would have on everyone, including the endal. Thought about Zulrav's presence in Wind Reach and the looming threat he had placed upon its people for supposedly sheltering a Despised.

And thoughts of Marrin. The man had proven himself to be above and beyond the realms of a colleague. He had strong skills as a hunter in the field, but mostly it was the service he had done her not five days prior. The Avora had saved her, most certainly from what she feared would have ruined her, and had in turn set her down a foreign path. Things had been building since mid summer for her, and the near assault in the baths that day, and Marrin's subsequent intervention had helped to open her eyes immensely.

But now, Marrin was in trouble! And not the 'you stole an apple, you lose your noon meal' kind of trouble, either. Rumors had spread the moment the meeting had concluded and the Valintar left that Marrin and Syveris and all of these others were truly in league with this Despised man and that they should be flogged! Exiled! Treachery was unforgivable in a land that relied on teamwork to truly survive, not thrive.

And so it was, as she and Kovac walked through the corridors back to their home in the Endal aeries that Vira prayed with all her might to the Lady of Light and Hope.

"I am such a novice to prayer, goddess...but what else can I do? Our friend is in trouble, my friend is in trouble. Zulrav has targetted him and several others in the city, thinking that they are in league with some ill-favored person somewhere inside the city limits. But he doesn't know where he is...it makes no sense, or maybe he does know but can't get to him. I don't know, it is beyond my domain.

And yet, stands in the midst of it.

Priskil, I fear for my friend Marrin but am struggling to see the path which your Light so often shines on. I did not know before this season yours was in command of hope and vigilance and light, or I would have prayed more and often for your bountiful spirit. All I had in that hole was the hope that I would get out alive. Now, I need to help Marrin get out of the coming winter alive. It is the least I could do for someone who stopped a very bad thing from happening. I am indebted to him for it.

What should I do, lady of light? He will most certainly need a friend now more than ever, but he will need more than that, I am sure. But how can I help him when I am weaker? Hope will not stop the blade which may pierce him or the winds which will cut him down if he is determined to be guilty of treachery. I could only watch and hope that I see the blade before it reaches him...or somehow garner enough persuasion in the powers that be to convince them he is not a threat to them, and certainly not in league with this man. And if he is....then he must be being manipulated somehow.

They had paused, a cart of coal being moved through the warren by a team of Dek on their way to some other location within the city. Vira smiled at one of them, a boy no more than fourteen, if she were to guess, a hobble in his step and his face slackened with brow thrust forward by some unknown deformity. He smiled back at her and waved his hand enigmatically before continuing with the cart and team.

Were that I could help them all...but I cannot. I can only hope and pray that you will light the way, Priskil. I will need your courage this winter, that is for sure.

by **Lani Stranger** on April 11th, 2014, 12:55 am

5th of Spring 514AV, Zeltiva

Lani was about to do something she had never done before. Her hands were clammy and Lani pulled her legs out from underneath her, she had sat on them too long and needles were poking at her nerves. She began cleaning up her offerings to Aquiras. It was already dark as Lani stacked her things back into the bowl, She dumped the asked by the base of the tree. Lani was pretty sure she heard somewhere that ashes helped plants but she couldn't be sure. They couldn't hurt could they? Once everything was packed up and she had brushed away her crudely drawn wheel, Lani set her back against the tree, she had blown one candle out and stuck the other in the dirt beside her. With the candle light on her back and the glare from the moon shining through the trees, she turned her head up closing her eyes to calm herself down. This wasn't a scary thing, not at all.

"Priskil?" Lani paused, not wanting to go through with her prayers because of nerves. She was so used to praying to a God that she knew could not hear her, praying to one that could, was intimidating. She was worried about her faith. She was always questioning herself and she couldn't seem to just put all of her trust in Aquiras. Not because he couldn't prove to her that her prayers were being answered, but because she couldn't trust herself. "Hey Priskil. I'm Lani, I just want to ask you some things. I know you already watch over Aquiras, I know you love him. So I guess I can't ask you to do that for me, but I'm going to anyway. I want someone to recognize that I care about him. It's a bit selfish, but I worry, you know?" Talking became easier for her, it was as if she was talking to Aquiras, it wasn't much different, just a different person. "Also, you're the Goddess of hope. So can you give me hope? Is that possible? Can you just hand out little hope tickets and make everyone feel better?" Lani grinned, opening her eyes to look at the stars. "Probably not, I don't know how it works but I don't think it works like that. I'm just asking because I'm kind of having a hard time. I didn't notice it before, I've always been with people, but I feel a bit hopeless." A sigh tucked out of her lips, as she leaned her head back on the tree, letting her eyes droop again. It was relaxing talking to the Gods. She always felt like the listened when no one else would. They never answered but surely they were listening.

"It's a bit pointless I guess. I'm still young and I don't have it that bad . . . not anymore. But I'm alone, and its dangerous. At least for me its dangerous. Maybe not to other people but to myself. I think bad things when I'm alone. I don't know, maybe it's nothing." Lani opened her eyes, pulling herself up off the ground. She stooped to grab her things, looking around for a minute. "Good night Priskil, give Aquiras my regards." Lani turned to walk away, she honestly didn't expect an answer and she wouldn't be disappointed if she didn't get one, but hope still slid into ther words.

"And Priskil? Does he ever wake up? Can he hear me? I've always thought of him as my father. You know, 'cause I travel so much, and I don't exactly have one. I know its silly, but when I read about him he seems like a good guy. I don' think he would mind . . . " Lani set her things down again, realizing she would stay longer than she thought. "I hate that bastard, Sa- . . . you know. I hate him. Why did he do that? Why would he do that? Aquiras didn't do anything to him." Lani's voice cracked on her God's name. She rarely broke down like this, her childish nature kept her happy and carefree, but deep down Lani always knew she had to address the questions and memories that twisted her insides and forced tears from her eyes. Salty water now hung from her eye lashes and Lani tried to wipe it away with her fingers, she can't cry in front of Priskil. Where was her respect? "Why . . .?"

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