Legend of Ransera

At the measuring gaze, Finn stilled and willed himself to be calm and open, rather than bring up walls made unnecessary by his vigilant vestments. He was reminded of a tidbit of wisdom offered to a young Finn by an early teacher, that while people had civilization and all, they were still animals. In the wild, when an animal was being watched closely, it was most often because another animal wanted to eat them. She had been speaking of performing before crowds, but Phocion's gaze could be more dangerous than all the eyes in an opera house.

He wasn't afraid anymore. Phocion and the Vigilia had helped him learn to rely upon his skills and his training, his power and his prestige to keep him alive. And Aværys didn't mark cowards.

All the same, he didn't release his breath until Phocion began to speak again, and then he offered a faint smile in return.

"Then it is fortunate, I suppose, that the Deus Imperator chose men with different skills and different paths that needn't come into conflict. I will support him inasmuch as his plans bring more glory to the Divine Twins. I will assuage my hunger in other ways." Janus had called him absurd once for his strange worldview, and he was correct from a Solunarian perspective. Finn's thrall had been a slave, and taken more out of friendship and compassion than hunger, although that had certainly flickered to life in the taking. The next in his sights was a popular songstress, but she could be the next step in his rise to power.

Finn supposed Varvara had chosen wisely, as well, in that there were checks and balances to keep Arvælyn and Phocion from conflict, Cithæra not the least mitigating force.

"Nae," he assured his sometimes complement, "when a God tells you that you weren't meant to hide your light under a basket, you know that, for whatever the reason, you deserve to shine." There was a touch of awe in his voice and around his eyes at those circumstances. He smiled it away after a moment and raised a glass. "I promise, your Exalted brother and I can multitask." He took a sip. "And I look forward to seeing how you support your cousin Vlahos."

"His Wisdom is Infinite." Phocion phonated, sounding as though he was quoting some passage of scripture with which Finn was unfamiliar. His moment of reverence passed and his expression transitioned smoothly to a slight smile, as he considered the sundry differences between Finn and Vrædyn. Ironically, the two bearers of the Golden God's emblems were dark of hair and fair of skin. The most sunlit Emblem bearer donned Her mark, not His. Were Finn and elf, one might have pondered the portents of a moonborn preponderance, but such as things were, his humanity was its own notable distinction. But the contrasts were what Finn was referring to, and there was merit to the observation, in Phocion's view.

"Indeed. Finn for the hymns and him for the homilies..." He mused, punctuating his poetry with a small sip of his spirit. Phocion glanced down for a moment as Finn invoked his connection to Vrædyn, but beyond that he didn't seem to have much of a response to the sentiment. Instead, his focus turned to the more grandiose matters at play.

"I do not believe gods and dragons have begun to assert themselves again in Solunarium because they expect us to remain still and stagnant as we have o'er these many millennia. It is clear to me that this is a renewal, of sorts... that we are done biding our time. Old forces awaken as new powers rise to prominence. You and I, Farstrider, are under Their lens. That They have not asserted themselves more directly is, I think, a testament to the righteousness of our path. Should we err, They would not hesitate to correct our courses. Of that I have no doubt...

"But still, there will come a time when bolder moves must be made to sate Them. We must not tarry long before taking such strides."

Finn nodded solemnly at the words, whether they were sacred or merely poetic. He supposed he ought to memorize the sacred texts, but Aværys had made it clear that the old ways were no longer entirely His own. And, as Phocion expounded as he continued, the times, they were a-changing. The lives of elves and humans were but a blink in a divine eye, but surely his moonborn brother-in-law-to-be was not wrong.

"Indeed," he agreed. "I have my eye upon a certain talented musician with great skill in Mesmer. It is my intent to enthrall her after His Starlit Highness' Mascerata. I will rebuild the ancient Leh'anafel order. And so, if you would support me, finding me persons worthy of consideration would be a boon. Your reach is long. I can train the talented, initiate those strong enough to carry a rune. Thralldom will maintain order and loyalty and perhaps, when my days are done, Deus Aværys will mark my successor so that bonds can be renewed."

Parts of him still rebelled at this plan, but he felt a similar impulse, perhaps, as that which bade Phocion support him. With a chorus of Mesmers, Finn could—judiciously—alter the thinking of the world.

For a moment, Phocion might catch a golden glint in blue eyes.

Finn still wondered whether hunger and ambition had been implanted within him by Aværys and His mark, or if They had merely connected him with a repressed part of himself that needed confrontation and embrace. He came to the same conclusion, however: the results were the same.

When he looked up from a momentary reverie, he half-expected a silver sheen on the eyes looking back upon him. For all that they had spoken directly to deity, the divine were still couched in mystery. That was the way of things.

“When the time comes for you to embark upon that holy mission, you need but say the word and I will release you from your duties to the Custodes Deorum to serve higher ambitions… Or if you require the aid of our order, I will do my best to see it provided.” In truth, the Sentinels were stretched quite thin at the moment. It was for that reason amongst others that senior students at the Academia Arcanum were currently training to make an expedition into recently uncovered territory in the minims district.

Thalya’s absence only made her more of a threat, and Sentinels were taking on duties that had been under the purview of the Golden Guard this time last year. If it weren’t for the importance of their work, the Custodes Deorum would never have been sanctioned under these circumstances, but such as things were they were a priority to be sure.

“I cannot speak on the matter of successors, but I did sense a new chain being forged in Searing. I don’t know who or where, but another has been blessed by Her mark…” His eyes were no more silver than usual, but they did take on a dreamlike quality as if he was lost on a memory or a reverie for a moment. When he returned to the present, he was lifting his glass to his lips to finish off the drink.

He sighed,

“I’ll not prevail upon any more of your leisure time, Sentinel, but I am pleased we had this opportunity to speak casually and share a drink from your homeland.”

The lesser Sentinel nodded, suddenly solemn.

"Your aid will be valuable," he said, "but fear not - my rise will be slow enough that I will not leave you without my hands on the chains that keep Solunarium ascendant." Finn knew how thinly the Vigilia was spread; he was kept quite busy between his responsibilities there and those to His Exalted Highness. They had all but free rein in the Umbrium, but the Luxium made their jobs more difficult. Some Luxian powers understood the need for unity, but others jockeyed for influence, which got in the way of the careful governance of the realm.

The revelation of another Tethered made his brows rise, but he didn't press for details. If Phocion knew them and deemed them details of which Finn should be aware, he would be.

Instead, he quaffed his drink without making it look hurried, and rose.

"Not at all. I value shared leisure time with you, Sentinel, but I will not prevail upon your treasured solitude." His smile was light and carried not a hint of judgment or malice. There were days when Solunarium still made no sense to him and he wanted to hide away from everyone, even Arvælyn.

Everyone needed time to themselves.

And it was decided: word would be sent to Talon Novalys, and Finn would have his boon. Even better if he could count Arcas Lightbringer as one of his instructors in the weaving of wards. Between him and Phocion himself, he was certain his power and skill would grow as quickly as had his power and skill with Traversion. Finn would be mobile, and infinitely more difficult to kill. He liked those ideas applied to him, and he liked being able to better serve the Vigilia and his amatus with them.