"...She of the Scourge" [Open]

[Arvælyn]

Arvælyn gripped the bicep of Finn’s unwounded arm at his clarification. A sweet melody of surprised gratitude snaked from Arry’s Symphony to Finn’s and he smiled warmly.

“Wait.” He blinked, his soft smile giving way to an expression of wide-eyed revelation. “It’s called ‘marshmallow’ because it grows in a marsh???” His eyes widened further, “And it’s a PLANT?!” Arry was today years old when he learned that little tidbit and it was enough to momentarily break him out of the awe of having just been graced by divine attention. A clear of Cithæra’s throat was enough to promptly return him to the present.

The Vigilia’s head turned sharply to the foreign as if to say “Et tu, Finne?” But instead she only said:

“Indeed…” Her head straightened out as Finn posed his question. “Alas, I have yet to render unto Her my sacrifice. Anon, anon…” She looked to the statue, then to the Vastian girl expressing her gratitude.

“Thank not me. It is Her Will I do seek to enact. I am but a Vigilia… a grain of sand in the vasty desert.” It was a common phrase of humility that all of them would have heard more than once by this point.

For the desert was no desert without its sands, but would not lose that designation with the removal of a single grain or even entire dunes worth. They were legion and they were disposable. This perspective was promoted as another way in which they sought to distinguish themselves from pride or personal gain, while donning the uniform of a Vigil. The order was as good as their identity.

“Now, then. I know it has been a long day for the devout and the newly introduced alike…” This last seemed to be directed to Finn. “I must tarry, but you should rest and meditate on all you have seen and wrought, for it is increasingly clear we now stand at the precipice of a new dawn in Solunarium.” She glanced to Arvælyn,

“The timing of your arrival has proven more auspicious than anticipated.”

[Finn]

Finn managed not to laugh out loud during this solemn affair, a dark goddess observing them.

"Pretty white flowers," he supplied quietly. "The buds can be pickled, the leaves added to tea, and the roots are edible... especially when crops fail." There was more, but Cithæra didn't seem to think it was time for a lesson in poor people survival. Perhaps he would be able to find some and the servi would allow him to boil it with honey until he could offer his prince a treat from home.

Finn hadn't really expected her to be forthcoming, but he wondered how long Arvælyn would be content to follow her blindly.

"Gratias, Vigilia." He showed what deference he had been taught was owed from a cadet to a Sentinel while veiled, then waited to see whether they were going to quit this place for home or find a place to loiter and discuss. There was something new in Hilana's symphony here, and he thought that perhaps she would have rather sacrificed an enemy rather than an animal, but he wasn't sure he was reading that correctly. In any case, she was a kind, practical woman. He would be curious to hear her take on the Varværyn religion. They were both human, though apparently her tribe chose to other humans who weren't of the desert born. This was odd to him, as the only enemies he had were Zaichaeri, and that wasn't the entirety of them—just the Order of Reconciliation.

"Well, friends, I know someplace we can share some sacramental wine..."

In fact, he knew quite a few places to drink in the Umbrium between his forays into performing and learning where Raithen liked to drink after an intense sparring session.

[Hilana Chenzira]

At Arvaelyn’s exclamation, Hilana’s eyes danced and she had to bite down on both lips hard to keep her mouth shut and trap the first giggle that wanted out. Her gaze went down to her hems while she got herself under control, and only once the urge to laugh did she stopped biting herself to stay quiet, keeping herself from fidgeting like she wanted to. Not the time, not the time, not the time. Stay quiet! She did nod at Finn’s explanation; she had more of her own to add to it later, and by then she could go into detail like she wanted to. But he was a good student, to have picked that up from his Grandmother. She would have to take him out to the marshy areas along the coastline.

She knew the saying that Cithaera spoke, and she inclined her head again to her. There was no argument from her there; she did understand. But she was thankful for the opportunity and invitation all the same. Had she thought things through, she would have realized she was swimming in very deep shark-infested waters, and she was bleeding.

But she knew a dismissal when she heard one, and Hilana also knew better than to linger when it was suggested they leave. She bowed low to the Vigilia once again, the bandages around her midsection barely rustling compared to her similar actions that morning, heading for the door to wait for her friends. When the others were ready to go, she was right behind Arvaelyn and Finn.

Sacramental wine sounded good right now. She had planned to go home and drop into bed and sleep until it was time to get up for work… but with what had transpired in the space of less than a quarter hour down here… the Vastii was wide awake again. She would certainly pay for the burst of energy later, if her experience was anywhere to go by. “Lead the way. I keep meaning to come down here more, but I never quite get there,” Hilana admitted.

[Arvælyn]

Arvælyn still seemed awed by the news that those puffy little confections he'd enjoyed as a boy were named after a plant from the marshes. Stranger still, there were various types of mallow that grew in other settings. It was little more than trivia for him, though the other two seemed focused on the practicality of its uses. Ever having been a city boy, the type of survival to which Arvælyn was accustomed had little to do with foraging in the wild, and more to do with getting things out of people.

In any case, there wasn't much for him to do with this information, trivial or practical, and as Cithæra spoke again, Arry's attention returned to the momentous moment at hand. The veiled Vigilia inclined her head to the group and uttered:

"In light or shadow, go in grace." And with that, stalked away, seeming to disappear into the latter as the rounded the statue toward the rear altar. Thoughts of marsh flora fell by the wayside as Arry's golden gaze followed her and regarded, once again, the imposing statue of the matron goddess of Solunarium.

"I think we've earned a spot of wine." Arry agreed with a nod. They'd been woken early for the Radiant Mass, and now that they'd offered their Waning Prayers it was fast approaching midnight. These days, he wasn't accustomed to being out this late when wine wasn't already part of the equation. Would Solunarium change him to the sort of person who stayed out all night for the sake of devotion rather than inebriation? He hoped not. Although he wasn't as fundamentally opposed to blood sacrifice as Finn, he did much prefer a drink to a grisly rite. And yet, still...

"Kaladon." He repeated the name of the mount, as they started toward the exit. It had been the setting of scenes in the final act of Aværys Eternal, and he'd tried to catch a glimpse from the airship when they were passing over Auris, but the cloud cover had disfavoured the endeavour.

"How does one get to Kaladon? If it's on a bloody Wyvern, I'm going to need a sight more practice. Even if I'm only a passenger."

[Finn]

"Ship or airship to Auris, I'd imagine," he ventured as they began to walk. "I don't know if one has to climb the mountain on foot or..." He shrugged. He really didn't know anything about the Varværyn religion yet. "I don't suppose they might open us a portal there?"

That would rather defeat the purpose of a pilgrimage, he thought, but then there might be different purposes to a pilgrimage for different people and different gods. From what he gathered from epic poems, the journey was meant to be arduous to show one's devotion to that god.

As he seemed to be leading the way, Finn took them to a nearby bar that he knew because they carried Khyan's favorite wine. He hadn't seen the man in quite a while, though he had heard that only ill tidings had come for him and for his family. The Kalzasern man didn't know how to help without making matters worse, though he supposed if they ever crossed paths again, he might be able to outright ask what he could do to help. They weren't even close friends, but he had taught him about music, and that was not something Finn took lightly.

Mostly introspective along the way, he held the door for Hilana and Arvælyn. The black uniforms got them in almost anywhere, and he didn't know if this was one of the places Hilana would have trouble getting into alone. The social structure of the city was still strange to him, even with the education of the Sentinels.

"I wouldn't mind riding wyverns to the volcano," he said, though the conversation had since meandered. "And I wouldn't mind more practice riding." He flashed a smile. New experiences were fun, especially when they didn't involve burning people alive.

[Hilana Chenzira]

"I would expect they could fly if time was of consideration," she agreed with Finn when he mentioned ships or airships. "Too long to go on foot, which is a shame. Hayima'el would enjoy the journey," and the small smile on the Vastii's face suggested she would, too. Then again, she knew that being out on her camel was big part of her life, but it wasn't necessarily so for others. She did wonder about the possibilities of a portal, but as she had no idea what was possibly planned for such a trip... she couldn't begin to guess. That would certainly be something.

Either way, she and Tiaz were perfectly content to follow Finn and Arvaelyn. She did remember Khyan's warnings about her attire down here, even her copper earrings... but so be it. If someone decided to take a mining pick to her head, they had better dedicate her death to the Founders, considering the occasion. One could hope that coming from the Templum Mediae Noctis Madris would buy her some leeway, and considering her friends had their uniforms on... Well, she might get lucky yet.

"Thank you," she smiled at Finn when he held the door for them, looking around with curiosity. She had been in tabernas above, and in and around a few of the smaller acting houses and theatres, but all of her forays into the Umbrium to date had been for work or, well, to visit the Temple just now. A glance around her told her Khyan's assessment had been correct. Black and silver, well-tailored, and it didn't necessarily have to be extravagant... Hm. "And this is the Noctis Aeternae," she murmured. Definitely should have come down here earlier... Tiaz' tongue flickered, tasting the scents of new people as he rested on the girl's bare shoulders, draped around her neck like a shiny accessory.

[Arvælyn]

"That would be nice..." Arry replied to Finn's notion of a portal. The Aurisians had the only embassy he'd seen in Solunarium, so he supposed it wasn't not out of the question, but likelihood was another matter entirely. Whether or not the Solunarian holy site was in their land, the matter of sovereignty was ever a delicate one- Or so he'd learnt in his brief time with the Vigilia Argenti.

Arry arched an eyebrow at Finn's talk of wyverns.

"More practise riding?" He tilted his head, "Have you ridden astride a wyvern?"

At Hilana's clarification, he nodded, smiling. The matter of distance was not to be dismissed, nor was the issue of the continental divide between Ecith and Ailizane. Arry and Finn had passed through Auris on their way here, but even if they hadn't- He knew his Solunarian history from Aværys Eternal well enough to know that the Founders had been felled fighting their conquerors' war. That was part of both the honour and the disgrace of their doom.

"I suppose even Hayima'el has his limits..." He conceded, "And the Crystal Sea is a markedly different terrain than the Atraxian Expanse." He chuckled, slightly amused at his own jest. He let Hilana enter Finn's chosen venue, before following after her, albeit with a tickle to Finn's obliques as he passed.

"So it is." Arry smiled faintly to Hilana. This was not his first visit to the Noctis Æternæ, though it was likely the first time he'd visited without the intention of seeing Finn perform. This time he would enter at Finn's side. He wondered whether the handsome human would be recognised by the patrons. He was both talented and handsome enough to warrant such attention, Arry knew.

"I'll order a bottle for us." The Golden Elf knew that he would be the fastest served, even if Finn was noticed, and so he sidled up to the bar and ordered a bottle of red. It was more popular in the Umbrium, and seemed particularly appropriate, given today's sanguine focus. After a minute or so, Arry drew up to whatever table Finn and Hilana had claimed with a bottle and three glasses.

[Finn]

To Arvælyn's query, Finn only smiled mysteriously. He had been able to visit the wyvern stables, using his magic to keep one calm long enough to sit astride its back for a few minutes, but he hadn't flown. But if that was to be their mode of travel, he would certainly attempt to practice until they left. He was learning more, in a way, from the Sentinels than he had at the Academy of Kalzasi, though he was going to have to pay that back in service, it seemed, real subvigil or faux.

While the elf went to fetch them wine, he and Hilana found a corner table where they could have their backs to the wall and hopefully Tiaz wouldn't feel threatened.

"Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night."

Finn delivered the lines sing-song, but not sung, a bit of mental association with the name of the place. He had played here before, but perhaps people weren't used to seeing him in the blacks of a cadet and without his lute. It did seem that sometimes when one encountered someone out of context, the mind didn't always make the connection with who they were. He could sense Hilana's pain.

"Would you like me to... help you ignore your pain?" he asked quietly while they were briefly alone. He would, if she asked. It was a simple matter, really.

"Ah, the most beautiful sommelier in the world!" he declared with a wide grin when Arvælyn returned. Guile was difficult for him, even if he wasn't speaking to a Mesmer. Somehow, hyperbole never rang false when he used it. He was enthusiastic about the things and people he loved.

"Did they have that kind you like?"

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana wondered, her gaze going from one to the other at the talk of Wyverns, but such as it was, they were far more likely to have access to them than she was, especially with the black and silver uniforms of the Vigils. Perhaps in time, she would get her opportunity to see one up close. But until then, the girl was content to watch them from a distance. She would get to get close to one eventually. Somehow.

“If we took something across the sea, Hayima’el could walk the rest of the way,” the girl was cheerful. “He’s capable. One desert is another desert for a camel. There would be ways. But I think flying is more likely than walking,” she was grinning, though, because Arvaelyn’s jest was funny to her, too. Even if camels didn’t particularly like swimming. Hayima’el had crossed water with her before, but it was not anything one would consider smooth, or much more than bounding across the bottoms with those padded feet of his. Heading to the sea? Never.

“Thank you,” she inclined her head to the Sunborn when he went to get the drink, and followed Finn to the table. She was happy to sit, shifting her rucksack down and letting Tiaz move from her shoulders and onto her arms, coiling briefly, his tongue flickering at Finn, regarding him. Her lips moved as she repeated Finn’s words. ‘Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night...’ That was food for thought.

At his offer, though, Hilana might have been tempted, but she smiled at him and had to shake her head a bit. “That is kind of you, and I appreciate it, truly. But we can bear any pain so long as it has meaning. This, all of this,” she indicated his arm that she had bandaged, and her own body, from her calf to her abdomen to her bandaged bicep, “we did for Them. For your sacrifice, for my...adventure last night. They know our efforts for Them. So while the blood is stemmed, we will finish the pain until it ends. We remember why we feel it.”

She worked one of her hands free of Tiaz’s thick coils to pull back Arvaelyn’s chair for him when he came up to the table, smiling at Finn’s words. “Umbrian red. There is nothing quite like it, is there?” She guided the snake back up to her shoulders, letting him look at Finn from under her hair, that tongue still flickering. Once the drink was poured, Hilana held her glass up to Arvaelyn and Finn in a toast. “Blood for blood, pain for pain, prices paid, and choices made.” She offered the toast to them, to today, to tonight.

[Arvælyn]

Arvælyn drew up to the table his companions had selected in time to catch the tail end of Hilana’s comments on their recent sacrifices. He was a bit struck by the fervour that brimmed under her words. Although Varværyn religion was infused in everything here, it hasn’t been a regular topic of conversation he’d often encountered. Those with whom he’d discussed the Faith had mostly been members of those hallowed castes who were best served by believing. It would be difficult not to favour a religion from whose gods one descended.

Since learning such was true of him, Arvælyn hadn’t noticed anything different about himself. He didn’t get sick, but he’d always attributed
that to his Hytori background. He had no radiant halo and, while his magicks were potent, they were no more so than most mortals. Perhaps the purebred of the Unbroken Line enjoyed more apparent benefits, but if divinity dwelt in Arry’s blood it must have been dull or dormant.

He shook his head and sniggered at the minstrel’s comment.

“Finn the Flatterer plies his art again!” He placed the bottle down first, then used the newly freed up hand to pluck the glassware out from between the fingers between which they dangled by their stems. As far as noble elves went, Arry had an ease about him with service that came from experience working spare shifts at the Velvet Cabaret to supplement his performer’s income.

“Aye.” He replied to Finn’s question, “Sanguis Draconis.” He noted, as he poured for Hilana, Finn and finally himself. He cast an appraising glance to Finn’s face, gauging his response to the toast, before letting his golden gaze turn back to Hilana.

“Pro Deus et Domina.” He answered, before lifting his glass to greet hers and sipping, as he considered the lessons of the day. Public and personal sacrifice. Splendour and subtlety. Light and shadow. Their lessons in Solunarian religion had only just begun…